Bio-engineered Dinosaur in the immortal world-Chapter 26: Confident disciples

Beneath the towering blackwood trees of the vast forest surrounding the Autumn Dragon Sect, a hidden group of young disciples gathered in a well-concealed thicket, their expressions ranging from boredom to smug arrogance.

Though they were under strict sect orders to stay hidden and avoid all contact with demonic cultivators, their actual reason for staying out of sight had little to do with fear or obedience.

They simply didn't care about the sect's warnings.

To them, the demonic cultivators were just another obstacle—one that, while seemingly dangerous to the weak-willed, was nothing but an inconvenience to the well-prepared.

And they were prepared.

More than prepared.

They knew they were strong.

They knew they were clever.

They knew they had traps, plans, and strategies that would make them unstoppable if they ever truly had to fight.

A disciple with a lean but muscular build, dressed in a dark green robe, leaned against a tree, arms crossed, his expression full of impatience and annoyance.

His name was Qian Mu, and he was one of the more experienced in-name disciples.

"Tch. This is ridiculous." He exhaled sharply, shaking his head in frustration. "Hiding? Us? From demonic cultivators? What do they take us for, outer sect disciples?"

Another disciple, a tall and sharp-eyed youth named Luo Jing, scoffed as he played with a small, intricate formation disk in his hands.

"Right? Like, are we really supposed to sit here and cower while those so-called 'righteous' sect elites get to take all the glory?"

Luo Jing rolled his eyes dramatically. "If we actually fought, we'd wipe the floor with those demonic cultivators. Do they even understand the level of preparation we've done?"

A third disciple, a woman with an elegant but arrogant air, named Zhang Mei, let out a mocking laugh, flipping her long black hair over her shoulder.

"Exactly." She smirked. "It's honestly insulting. The sect thinks we're weaklings who would just die the moment we see a demonic cultivator. If they knew how well-prepared we are, they wouldn't even worry about us."

Qian Mu nodded firmly. "That's what I'm saying! We've spent months setting up formation traps, preparing poison weapons, and training in anti-demonic techniques."

He gestured around the hidden clearing, where various traps lay in wait, hidden beneath leaves and dirt.

"If a demonic cultivator shows up here, they're dead the moment they step inside."

Luo Jing grinned, flipping his formation disk between his fingers.

"We even have a multi-layered formation system. If they trigger the first layer, they'll be bound. If they trigger the second layer, they'll be hit with paralyzing poison. And if they somehow survive that—"

Zhang Mei finished the sentence with an arrogant smirk. "—then the third layer will outright kill them. Simple as that."

The disciples, rather than feeling worried or scared, began to laugh among themselves, their arrogance thick in the air.

They weren't just confident in their safety.

They were eager for a fight.

They wanted a demonic cultivator to show up.

They wanted to prove that the sect's warnings were pointless.

They wanted to show the elders that they weren't just in-name disciples—

They were warriors.

Qian Mu cracked his knuckles, grinning. "Honestly, part of me hopes a demonic cultivator does show up. Just so we can show them how useless they are against actual preparation."

Luo Jing scoffed. "They probably think we're just random weaklings who ran to hide the moment we heard 'demonic cultivator.' Little do they know, we've been waiting for them."

Zhang Mei smirked, crossing her arms.

"It would be hilarious, actually. Watching some overconfident demonic path scum walk into our formation, only to be helpless and struggling while we casually finish them off. I'd love to see the look on their faces."

With every word, the arrogance in their voices deepened.

They genuinely believed that no demonic cultivator could outmatch their strategy.

They had spent too much time planning, setting up their countermeasures, practicing their techniques, and refining their formations for there to be even a slight chance of failure.

The mere thought that they could lose never crossed their minds.

Luo Jing stretched lazily. "Man, it's a shame we actually have to wait. If the sect weren't so damn strict, I'd go hunting for them myself."

Qian Mu grinned, his sharp canines glinting in the dim light. "Oh? Who says we can't do a little scouting of our own? The sect said to hide, but they didn't say we couldn't set traps along the way."

Zhang Mei's eyes gleamed with excitement. "That... is a brilliant idea."

They were at their peak of arrogance.

Fully convinced of their own superiority.

Completely blind to the subtle, creeping danger that had already begun to unfold.

Then, it happened.

Suddenly—

A sharp, unnatural sound cut through the air.

A soft, nearly silent thud.

Something fell.

Qian Mu, Luo Jing, and Zhang Mei froze mid-conversation.

Their eyes snapped toward the sound.

One of the other disciples—who had been standing just a few steps away—

Had collapsed.

For a single, horrifying second, no one spoke.

No one breathed.

No one moved.

The moment the first disciple collapsed, the once smug and overconfident group of in-name disciples of the Autumn Dragon Sect found themselves spiraling into confusion and panic, their minds racing to make sense of what had just occurred.

At first, it seemed impossible.

Nothing should have been able to get past their defenses.

Nothing should have been able to bypass their formations without them noticing.

Nothing should have been able to bring one of them down so silently that not even their keen senses could detect it.

But the proof lay right before their eyes—one of their own had fallen, unmoving, and with no sign of struggle.

Qian Mu's breath hitched as he quickly stepped forward, eyes scanning the fallen disciple. "Check them! Now!" he barked, his voice sharp with urgency.

Luo Jing, still clutching his formation disk, immediately dropped to his knees, pressing two fingers against the disciple's neck.

Cold.

Unmoving.

No heartbeat.

No breath.

Luo Jing's hands trembled as he slowly turned his head to the others, his face paler than moonlight.

"T-They're... dead."

A shockwave ran through the group.

Zhang Mei staggered backward, her face twisting in disbelief. "That—That doesn't make sense! There's no wound! No blood! No sign of an attack!"

Another disciple, a young man with short-cropped hair named Sun Ren, clenched his fists. "Then what the hell happened?! People don't just drop dead for no reason!"

Qian Mu's teeth gritted together, his sharp jawline twitching with frustration. "This has to be an illusion technique. That's the only explanation."

"If it was an illusion, why are they not waking up?!" Luo Jing snapped, his voice shaking with something bordering on hysteria.

"We trained against illusions! We know how to break them! If this was an illusion, we'd be seeing inconsistencies—but look! Look at them! They're not breathing! They're not moving! They're just—

He cut himself off, unable to finish the sentence.

Because even saying it felt too real.

Too terrifying.

Qian Mu, refusing to accept what was happening, spun around sharply. "Check the traps!" His voice boomed, a desperate attempt to regain control of the situation. "Something had to come through! We'll find the break-in point!"

Immediately, the group split apart, each disciple rushing to check the barriers, formations, and traps they had painstakingly set up to ensure their safety.

Zhang Mei ran her fingers along the formation inscriptions, her lips moving rapidly as she recited the activation phrases, ensuring they were still intact.

Luo Jing knelt beside the hidden spike pit, checking the fine trip wires they had strung along the perimeter.

Sun Ren examined the poison-laced caltrops hidden beneath the leaves, ensuring they were still undisturbed.

Everywhere they looked, they found the same answer.

Nothing was wrong.

The formations were untouched.

The barriers remained unbroken.

The traps were still active.

There was no entry point.

And yet—

Something was here.

Something had already entered.

Something had already struck them down.

And they had no idea how or why.

The tension that had been simmering beneath the surface exploded into raw frustration and fear, their once strong camaraderie shattering like glass under pressure.

Zhang Mei, eyes wild with panic, spun toward Qian Mu. "You said this place was secure! You swore that nothing could get through!"

Qian Mu's veins bulged at his temples as he snarled, "It is secure! You saw it yourself—the formations are still active! That means whatever is killing us didn't break in! Maybe one of you let something in without realizing it!"

Luo Jing's face twisted in fury. "Are you accusing us?! Do you think we're so incompetent that we wouldn't notice a threat entering our own camp?!"

Sun Ren's eyes darted between them, his breaths shallow and uneven. "Everyone, shut up! This isn't the time to fight! We need to figure out what's happening before we all end up—"

THUD.

Silence.

They froze.

The argument died instantly, replaced by an almost suffocating stillness.

Slowly, their heads turned—

Another disciple had fallen.

No sign of struggle.

No scream.

No warning.

Just silence.

Cold. Lifeless. Gone.

A choking dread crawled up their spines.

Something was picking them off.

Something they couldn't see.

And it was still here.

"NO!" Zhang Mei screamed, stumbling backward, her legs trembling beneath her.

Luo Jing's fingers dug into his hair, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "This isn't possible! This isn't possible! Nothing can kill like this! Nothing!"

Qian Mu's face darkened, his grip on his weapon tightening to the point that his knuckles turned white. "Stop panicking! We can still fight! We just need to—"

THUD.

Another body dropped.

This time, the disciple landed right next to them.

And that was when the panic turned into sheer, unrelenting terror.

Qian Mu's body tensed, his instincts screaming at him to RUN, but his pride held him in place.

Luo Jing's breath hitched, and he turned wildly, his eyes darting in every direction. "We need to move! We need to move! We're sitting ducks here!"

Zhang Mei's teeth clattered as she struggled to draw her weapon, her hands shaking too violently to hold it properly. "W-We can't even see it! How do we—how do we fight something we can't even—"

THUD.

THUD.

THUD.

Three more collapsed.

The remaining disciples were now barely five in number.

Their faces were drained of color, their bodies frozen in sheer horror.

Suddenly, adding to their fear, a low, guttural sound filled the hideout they were in, making the air warmed up with a predatory aura, a sound so deep and primal that it sent an instinctual wave of dread through their bones.

It was then—through the flickering shadows of the forest—that they saw it.

A creature unlike any sizes of the beasts they met in the trial.

Its massive frame loomed over them, standing on two thick, powerful legs, its body covered in dark, reinforced scales that seemed to absorb the dim light of the forest.

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But what sent an icy shudder through their spines—

Were its arms.

Unlike the short, stubby limbs of a normal Tyrannosaurus Rex, this creature's arms were long, muscular, and inhumanly powerful—built not just for gripping—but for ripping apart prey because of its long and strong sharp claws.

Its deep-set eyes glowed with an unnatural intelligence, as if it understood their terror, as if it enjoyed watching them fall apart piece by piece.

And then—the shadowed beast stepped forward, making the last of their courage shattered.