Blossoming Path-Chapter 167: The Forest Holds Its Breath

Windy slithered low against the ground, his pale scales brushing over the brittle, frost-touched grass. His tongue flicked out, catching the faint coppery tang of blood on the cold wind.

The trail had been easy to follow at first, with crushed undergrowth and faint, unnatural disturbances in the air that only his sharp senses could detect. But as the hours wore on, the path grew colder, the figure moving with an eerie precision that left barely a trace behind. Yet, the serpent was determined. His coiled patience kept him moving, silent and watchful.

The hooded figure moved further than Windy had ever dared. Away from Kai. Away from Tianyi. It was only by pure chance he caught sight of the elusive shadow that terrified the den of snakes. After days of traversing the forest, going deeper with every passing day, he found it.

His instincts screamed of danger, but the spirit beast wouldn't give up such an opportunity.

The figure was no ordinary prey, but neither was Windy an ordinary snake.

The battle had unfolded just ahead of him, in a clearing where frost clung stubbornly to the ground. Perched high in a tree, the serpent wrapped himself around a branch, his pale scales blending with the icy bark as he watched. The massive tiger prowled into view first, its jet-black fur bristling with tension, its movements graceful yet predatory. It seemed angry, emitting a low growl that made his scales stand on end. It was a formidable foe; one he would be hard-pressed to defeat.

And the shadow moved.

The ragged cloth draped over its frame shifted unnaturally with each step, and its feet were gnarled and cracked.

The tiger lunged without hesitation, its roar splitting the silence. It was swift, deadly, its claws glinting in the dark as it swiped at the figure. But the hooded man did not dodge. The claws sunk into the man's arm, but he pushed forward without any reaction to the pain, his bare hand lashing out with terrifying speed.

Ignoring the attack in favor of delivering a counter-blow.

Windy’s eyes narrowed.

Fingers, pale and claw-like, raked across the tiger’s side. The force of the blow was staggering; three deep gashes appeared in the beast’s flesh, muscle tearing apart as if it were paper. Blood sprayed in an arc, splattering the frost-kissed ground in dark streaks.

The tiger howled in pain, staggering back, its massive frame trembling from the sheer ferocity of the strike. The man’s movements were precise, deliberate, and far too fluid, as if the edges of his body blurred with each step. He stood motionless for a moment, his hand dripping with blood.

The serpent's tongue flicked again, catching the sharp metallic tang in the air. He observed the tiger’s swift retreat, the beast limping heavily into the undergrowth. It was still alive, but just barely. Its steps were slow, dragging, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

Windy had waited, watched. He had expected the hooded figure to pursue the wounded tiger. That would have been the logical move. Injure the prey, track it, finish it. That was how Windy himself hunted tougher creatures; paralyze them with venom, then follow until their strength left them entirely.

But this was different. The hooded figure didn’t move immediately. Instead, it lingered in the clearing, lowering itself onto its knees. Thin, ragged cloth clung to its frame, barely shielding it from the cold.

'Immortals feel the cold, don’t they?' Windy thought, tilting his head. He could remember Kai layering on his maroon robes during the chillier nights. But this figure… it did not shiver. It knelt like a statue in the clearing, its movements unnervingly still. For a second, he thought it was just too injured to give chase.

Then it spoke.

The words were low, guttural, and wrong. Windy didn’t understand them, but he didn’t need to. The forest seemed to hold its breath, and the air grew heavier, laden with something vile and tainted. The sound was like a blade dragging across bone, reverberating with a malevolence that made Windy’s instincts flare with alarm.

The way it prostrated itself before the tiger’s bloodied trail spoke of something darker, more twisted. Windy could feel the impure essence seeping into the ground around it, poisoning the frost-kissed earth.

His instincts screamed at him to leave—to abandon this hunt and return to the safety of Kai and Tianyi’s presence. But he couldn’t. The hooded figure’s actions were a threat to them, to everything.

The figure rose slowly. Windy slithered after it, careful to stay far enough that its shadowy form wouldn’t sense him. It repeated the process for a couple hours, a staggered but deliberate pace, leaving behind bloodstained footprints that glistened darkly in the weak moonlight.

'It bleeds. Just like them.'

The realization settled like a cold, steadying weight in Windy’s mind. The shadow, for all its unnatural power, was not invincible. The tiger’s strike had landed, and the droplets of blood that trailed in its wake were proof.

He couldn’t fight it head-on. The figure was far stronger than he was, even wounded. But strength alone didn’t guarantee victory. A snake never fought like a brute. It fought with precision, cunning, and patience.

This was his chance.

The hooded figure moved to the far side of the clearing, its steps silent despite the frost-covered ground. It paused, crouching again, and resumed its eerie ritual. The guttural, rasping words spilled forth once more, each syllable carrying an unsettling resonance. The figure’s bloodied hand traced patterns in the frost, leaving streaks of crimson that shimmered faintly in the dim light.

From his vantage point in the treetops, his coils tightened. His tongue flicked, tasting the air for any hint of a shift in the figure’s focus. Nothing. The hooded figure seemed entirely consumed by its dark purpose, oblivious to the serpent watching from above.

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Windy’s intuition screamed at him to wait, to bide his time. The figure was powerful, far beyond anything he had encountered before. But the blood-streaked footprints trailing from its fight with the tiger reminded him of its vulnerability.

The shadow bleeds. It could be hurt.

And hurt things could be killed.

The figure’s voice rose, the guttural tones growing more fervent. The tainted essence radiating from it was almost suffocating now, curling through the air like an invisible toxin. His instincts urged him once again to retreat, to slither back into the safety of the trees and return home. But if he fled now, the shadow would continue.

It would find Kai. It would find Tianyi.

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'I wanted to kill this monster for my pride, but now I fight so they’ll never face it.'

With a flick of his tail, Windy launched himself from the branch. His lithe body sliced through the cold air, silent and swift, his target clear—the figure’s unguarded back. His fangs glinted in the faint light, venom ready to inject at the first bite.

For a heartbeat, it seemed as though he would land his mark. The hooded figure remained crouched, its focus entirely on its ritual.

Then, impossibly fast, it turned.

Windy’s momentum carried him forward, but the figure’s hand lashed out with unnatural speed. Fingers like iron clamped around his neck, halting his strike mid-air. The force of the grip made his scales crackle under the pressure. Windy writhed, his tail lashing instinctively, but the hold was unyielding.

The hooded figure stood, lifting the serpent effortlessly. Its hood tilted slightly, as though examining him.

Loose strands of unkempt, greasy hair fell across a lined forehead, their ashen color blending with the ragged shadows of the hood.

The man’s skin was weathered and uneven, as though it had been both scorched by the sun and bitten by frost. His lips, cracked and pale, peeled back to reveal yellowed teeth, jagged and uneven, as if they had been filed down by years of grinding. His breath carried the stench of decay.

But it was his eyes that froze the serpent in place, even as he struggled. They were not the eyes of an immortal, sharp and calculating, but the eyes of a wild beast.

“So,” it muttered, its voice low and dripping with disdain, “you’ve been following me.”

Windy’s tail coiled, striking out, but the figure barely flinched. Its grip tightened, and the serpent’s vision blurred as the pressure threatened to crush his windpipe.

“I sensed you hours ago,” the figure growled, its tone shifting to a sharp, simmering rage. “And yet, you chose now to reveal yourself. Interrupting me.”

He knew the grip would kill him if he didn’t act now. Summoning every ounce of his remaining strength, he funneled his qi into his tail. The air around him shimmered faintly as the energy coalesced, sharpening his strike.

With a fierce lash, his tail snapped forward, aiming directly for the figure’s face. The blow connected with a sickening crack, catching the figure in its eye.

The figure recoiled with a hiss, its grip loosening just enough for Windy to twist free. He dropped to the ground, his body coiling defensively as he retreated several paces. His tongue flicked rapidly, assessing his opponent.

The figure staggered, one hand clutching its face.

“You insolent wretch!” the figure hissed, its voice trembling. Its movements were jerky now, like a marionette driven by rage. “How dare you interrupt! How dare you defile this sacred moment?”

It straightened, holding its wounded side as it staggered to the opposite edge of the clearing. Despite the clear signs of pain, its grip on its ritual was unwavering.

The figure began chanting, its voice a guttural rasp, the words laced with a twisted reverence. “Great one, hear me! Forgive your unworthy servant! But I will make it right, oh divine one! This infidel’s blood will quench your thirst. This unclean, profane creature will serve!”

Windy remained still, his body low to the ground. His mind raced. The figure’s reaction had been too quick, too deliberate. It hadn’t been caught off guard at all.

This wasn’t a failed ambush.

It was a trap.

The realization settled in Windy’s mind like a shard of ice. He had walked into the figure’s game, and now he was its prey.

Tianyi moved silently through the dense forest, her steps light and deliberate as her sharp eyes scanned the undergrowth. The trail she followed was faint. Windy had always been a master of stealth, and it was clear to her that this time, he didn’t want to be found.

Her lips pressed into a thin line. Windy’s subtlety was both a gift and a curse. She admired it, respected it, but now it felt like an impenetrable veil keeping her from him. Even so, she pressed on, her senses sharp, her antennae-like strands twitching faintly to detect the smallest vibrations in the air.

The forest was unnervingly still.

It was wrong.

This silence reminded her of... something.

Memories, faint and fragmented, surfaced unbidden.

Before Kai. Before Windy.

A time when she was nothing more than a fragile creature, flitting through endless trees under an endless sky. The forests then had always been alive with sound—birds chittering, beasts moving, the hum of the wind as it carried the scents of the earth.

But not now.

She unfolded her wings, the glowing blue edges spreading wide. With a sharp leap, she propelled herself into the canopy, gliding effortlessly between branches. The world below blurred as she moved with purpose, the wind rushing against her skin.

The two strands falling down her face twitched again, sensing the subtlest of disturbances. There; a faint rustle, too deliberate to be wind. She veered toward it, her wings angling to catch the light breeze.

She landed softly on a sturdy branch, crouching as her sharp gaze scanned the shadows below. Her antennae flicked, honing in on the faint movement ahead. It was quick, almost imperceptible, but it was there.

“Windy...” she murmured under her breath, her voice low and calm. She doubted he would respond. He wouldn’t unless he wanted to.

Still, she moved closer, her wings pulling her effortlessly from branch to branch.

'Why are you hiding?'

The question lingered in her mind, but she didn’t stop. Her movements grew faster, her focus sharper, as she pursued the fleeting traces. The trail wasn’t growing colder; it was changing. More erratic.

And the forest remained silent.

Her antennae twitched violently, catching something.

An aura, faint but impure. Her wings shifted instinctively, angling her to glide low, just above the forest floor, as she followed the faint disturbance.

Ahead, she caught the barest flicker of motion. It wasn’t Windy.

The metallic tang of blood hung thick in the air now, growing stronger with each step. She slowed further, her wings folding partially to minimize the faint hum they emitted. Her sharp eyes caught the glow of a lantern, flickering weakly against the shadows of the forest. She moved closer, crouching low to avoid detection.

Her mouth pressed into a thin line as the scene came into view.

Three figures lay scattered across the forest floor, motionless and broken. The robes of the Verdant Lotus Sect hung from their forms, torn and bloodied. One disciple was crumpled against a tree, his head bent at an unnatural angle. Another lay face-down in a pool of crimson, a trail of smeared blood leading to him as if he had tried to crawl away. The third was slumped against the remains of a shattered lantern, the faint light casting an eerie glow over his lifeless face.

Tianyi’s stomach twisted as recognition dawned. These were the disciples. The ones sent ahead to scout.

Her eyes narrowed, scanning the clearing for the source of the slaughter. Her antennae quivered again, drawing her attention to the center of the carnage.

There, kneeling amidst the carnage, was a person.

No, not a person. Not entirely.

Their form was similar to the one described by the den of snakes. A shadow. They were covered in a robe, its edges frayed and tattered.

The figure knelt, its hood obscuring its face, though long, loose strands of hair clung to its angular features. Its body was unnaturally still, save for its hands, which moved with eerie precision. It dragged one of the lifeless disciples closer, arranging the body with care, as though laying it to rest. But the intention was far from reverent.

She watched the figure shift to another body, rolling it to its back and dragging it to form a crude triangle with the others. Her sharp eyes caught something glinting in the figure’s hand.

A seed, black as pitch, pulsating faintly like a diseased heart.

The figure leaned forward, burying the seed into the center of the triangle. Its clawed hands dug into the blood-soaked earth with fervor, smearing its palms with a mix of dirt and gore. It began to chant again, the guttural, rasping words sending ripples of unease through the clearing.

Tianyi didn’t need to understand the words to feel their intent. The air thickened, curling with malevolent qi as the seed absorbed the blood pooling beneath it. The forest seemed to recoil, its silence growing more oppressive.

A moment passed. Then another.

The ground where the seed was buried began to pulse faintly, like the rhythm of a beating heart. The blood around the triangle of corpses glowed faintly, drawn toward the seed in thin, crimson tendrils.

The figure raised its bloodied hands high, its chant reaching a fever pitch. “May your bloom feed on the unworthy! May your roots drink deep of their essence! Let this offering strengthen your dominion!”

Tianyi’s sharp gaze fixed on the ground as the soil erupted.

A dark vine, thorned and grotesque, burst from the earth, writhing as though alive. The vine twisted upward, its movement jerky and unnatural, until it unfurled a flower at its peak.

Her antennae pulsed violently, detecting the vile essence radiating from the flower. It was not natural. It was wrong.

The figure knelt again, its clawed hands gripping the base of the bloom as if in worship.

Tianyi’s stomach churned. She had seen enough. This was not her goal. Her goal was to find Windy.

But before she could retreat, the figure froze mid-chant. Slowly, almost deliberately, it turned its head toward her. The hood shifted just enough to reveal a pale, feminine face streaked with dried blood. Their eyes, wild and sunken, locked onto hers with a predatory gleam.

A sickly smile stretched across her cracked lips, and her voice shifted to a low rasp as she rose to her feet.

“Ah, another offering,” She murmured, gaze gleaming with manic fervor. “The Heavenly Demon provides bountifully indeed.”