Alright, stop thinking, your brain isn't up to it.

"Silence!"

His hoarse roar jolted all the trainees still lost in their thoughts awake.

"Today's hunt ends here!"

"Medical team! Treat all injured personnel! Evacuate critical cases back to base immediately!"

"The rest of you, stand down and rest!"

Lin Xiao's voice was icy and rigid, devoid of any warmth.

The trainees instinctively straightened their backs.

"Instructor," a timid voice spoke up, "then... what about tomorrow's assessment..."

"Assessment suspended!" Lin Xiao cut him off sharply. "The Black Forest's danger level exceeds initial estimates. Until we understand the situation, no one is to set foot in that forest again!"

"Await further orders!"

With that, he turned to leave.

He needed to report this to Elder Feng immediately. This was no longer a training exercise—it had escalated into a severe supernatural disaster.

"Instructor Lin."

A lazy voice stopped him in his tracks.

Lin Xiao's body stiffened. He didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was.

Su Qi, holding Liu Yuan’s hand, strolled over casually.

"So... if the assessment’s suspended, does that mean we can head back early?" Su Qi asked with exaggerated sincerity. "It’s cold and damp here at night. I’m worried my little sister might catch a cold."

Lin Xiao turned around slowly, inch by inch.

He stared at Su Qi’s deceptively harmless face, his lips trembling for a long moment before he managed to force out a single word.

If he had to exchange one more sentence with this guy, he might just drop dead from a heart attack on the spot.

In the end, he only gritted out through clenched teeth:

"Go—the hell—back—and—rest!"

After roaring those words, he refused to spare Su Qi another glance, storming into his tent with a retreat that bordered on fleeing.

"Terrible temper," Su Qi muttered, then cheerfully led Liu Yuan back to their clean patch of carpet.

...

Night deepened.

The camp gradually regained order under the medical team’s busy efforts.

Severely injured trainees were rushed away, while those with minor injuries huddled together after treatment, whispering among themselves.

The atmosphere remained heavy.

Two figures stood out as the most unusual presence in the camp.

An invisible barrier seemed to surround their spot, keeping others at a distance.

Chen Ye sat by the fire, calmly polishing his black-framed glasses, his expression as unreadable as ever.

His two teammates, Zhang Wei and Wang Fang—two utterly ordinary-looking young men—gazed at him with undisguised admiration, occasionally stealing awed glances at Yun Huang.

They’d always known Chen Ye was strong, but never imagined he was this strong.

Su Qi finally cleared the game that had tormented him all afternoon, stretching with satisfaction.

He patted Chen Ye’s shoulder.

"Good job."

Chen Ye, though puzzled, nodded in acknowledgment.

"Next time, though, don’t use so much force," Su Qi added. "Look at all the blood and brain matter splattered everywhere. Not very eco-friendly."

Chen Ye: "..."

Zhang Wei and Wang Fang: "..."

"Take Yun Huang, for example." Su Qi pointed at the distant figure sitting alone. "Burns everything to ashes. A gust of wind scatters it—clean and sanitary. We should learn from that."

Chen Ye fell silent for a moment, then nodded seriously.

"Understood."

...

Dawn of the second day.

Sunlight filtered through sparse treetops, casting light over the ravaged camp, yet failing to dispel the oppressive mood.

Lin Xiao hadn’t slept all night, his eyes bloodshot.

He’d reported everything in detail.

Elder Feng’s response was just four words:

[Protect him at all costs.]

The identity of "him" was something Lin Xiao already understood.

After a night of tension, the trainees’ dynamics had grown subtly strained.

At that moment—

Su Qi sat cross-legged, a small table before him as he played Pictionary with his sister.

"Brother, is that a turtle?"

"No, it’s the Black Tortoise."

Lin Xiao stared at the grotesquely misshapen, uniquely ugly doodle on the table, feeling his temple throb uncontrollably.

He approached.

"Su Qi."

"What?" Su Qi didn’t look up.

"Come with me. There’s something I need to discuss with you privately." Lin Xiao’s voice was rough with exhaustion.

Su Qi set down his pen and studied him.

"Fine."

He stood and followed Lin Xiao toward the woods at the camp’s edge.

The two walked single-file through the trees for several hundred meters before stopping in a clearing.

Before Lin Xiao could speak—

Su Qi beat him to it.

"You want to learn that?"

Lin Xiao blinked. "Learn what?"

"The Sourceflow Construction Method." Su Qi wore an "I get it" expression. "Impressed by Yun Huang’s version? It’s brutal, sure, but the talent requirement’s sky-high. At your age, it’s probably a stretch. Want me to recommend something gentler? Good for longevity."

Lin Xiao’s facial muscles twitched violently.

He inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly as if expelling every ounce of frustration from his lungs.

"That’s not why I’m here."

"Oh? Then what?" Su Qi’s interest instantly waned.

"At noon today, everyone will evacuate this Source Realm." Lin Xiao locked eyes with him, enunciating each word. "Don’t wander off. If we can’t find you during roll call, it’ll be a problem."

Su Qi raised an eyebrow.

"Trouble?"

Lin Xiao nodded grimly.

"Yes."

No further explanation came.

Su Qi waited, but when Lin Xiao remained tight-lipped, he pressed, "What happened? Yesterday’s beast tide wasn’t part of the plan, was it? Someone’s interfering?"

Lin Xiao glanced at him, hesitating as if weighing his words.

Finally, with the air of a man surrendering, he spoke in a near-whisper:

"Last night, I received word."

"The person in charge of the other outpost... is dead."

For the first time, Su Qi’s lazy demeanor faded slightly.

"Which outpost?"

"The one on the other side of the Black Forest." Lin Xiao’s voice dropped further. "Our final assessment was supposed to involve assisting that outpost in a regional purge operation."

"Letting trainees observe from the periphery would’ve been valuable experience."

This was no minor incident.

Anyone capable of overseeing a core outpost in a high-tier Source Realm had to be at least Tenth Order in strength.

A powerhouse of that caliber could serve as a regional guardian anywhere in the world—a true pillar of stability.

"How did they die?" Su Qi asked.

"Unknown." Lin Xiao shook his head, his bloodshot eyes weary. "The outpost went dark. The military’s reconnaissance squad also lost contact after nearing the core zone. They only transmitted one blurry photo before vanishing."

"What was in the photo?"

Lin Xiao's lips twitched slightly, as if recalling a scene that had deeply unsettled him.

"A flower."

"A... blood-red flower blooming on a corpse."

"This information is known only to a select few and is classified," Lin Xiao said gravely, locking eyes with him. "Don’t go spreading it around."

"Am I that kind of person?" Su Qi retorted indignantly. "You can trust me to handle this."

Lin Xiao’s expression turned complicated.

"That’s exactly why I don’t trust you. You’ve never done anything reliable."

"How am I unreliable?" Su Qi shot back. "I promised to bring you barbecue, and I did—even went out of my way to borrow fire from a Flame Demon Lion. That’s dedication."

Lin Xiao felt his stomach twist in protest.

Just as he was about to argue, the communicator at his waist emitted a sharp, staticky crackle.

His face darkened instantly as he snatched it up.

"Hold on a second."

He stepped away, turning his back to Su Qi and lowering his voice.

"...Copy that, go ahead... Repeat for confirmation... Makka Pakka..."

"Blah blah blah."

"Gibberish gibberish."

A stream of encrypted chatter Su Qi couldn’t decipher.

Bored, he kicked a pebble at his feet.

A few minutes later, Lin Xiao ended the call, his expression even grimmer than before—like the bottom of a burnt pot.

He returned, his first words heavy.

"New intel. Seems like the work of 'Descenders.'"

Su Qi raised an eyebrow. "And you’re telling me this?"

Lin Xiao explained, "Elder Feng pulled strings overnight for you... So, yeah."

That explained it.

The methods of the "Descenders" were bizarre. Wiping out an outpost without a trace sounded exaggerated, but it wasn’t impossible.

The real question was—

"What’s their goal?" Su Qi cut to the chase.

Lin Xiao paused.

"Goal?"

"Yeah." Su Qi spread his hands. "Outposts function as footholds because of Great Xia’s endless logistical support. Those 'Descenders' operate in the shadows—they’d struggle to smuggle a pack of spicy sticks. Even if they took the outpost, could they hold it? No supplies mean it’s just an empty shell. What’s the point? Pure spite with no gain."

Lin Xiao fell silent.

He’d been fixated on the outpost’s destruction, the losses, the enemy’s brutality.

But he hadn’t considered the logic behind it.

Su Qi’s words hit the mark.

"Unless..." Su Qi stroked his chin, narrowing his eyes. "Their target was never the outpost."

Lin Xiao’s pupils contracted slightly.

"Then what?"

"That flower." Su Qi’s tone was casual, as if discussing lunch. "Or rather, whatever 'planted' it."

A chill shot up Lin Xiao’s spine.

If true, the nature of this incident had just shifted entirely.

The "Descenders" weren’t conquering territory—they were... "sowing"?

Were they trying to turn the entire Origin Realm into a breeding ground for those grotesque flowers?

Lin Xiao muttered, "Your theory holds some weight."

"But our official conclusion is that this is the Descenders’ provocation."

Su Qi countered, "So how are you handling it?"

Lin Xiao replied, "That’s high-level strategy. Not my concern. I just follow orders."

"Or, even if I had ideas, I can’t act on them independently."

"Stop overthinking—your brain’s not built for it." Su Qi clapped him on the shoulder. "What’s the plan? Calling in the cavalry to bulldoze the place?"

"Military reinforcements are en route, but they won’t arrive until tomorrow." Lin Xiao took a deep breath, forcing composure. "Until then, we evacuate all trainees."

"Got it." Su Qi nodded. "I’ll go pack my things."

He turned to leave.

"Wait!" Lin Xiao called out.

"What now?" Su Qi glanced back impatiently.

Lin Xiao’s lips parted, his face a battleground of pride, reason, and military duty.

Finally, deflating, he spoke in a near-pleading tone.

"I need your help."

"Hard pass." Su Qi dismissed him flatly. "Violence isn’t my style. Plus, I faint at the sight of blood."

...

Deep in the Black Forest.

Su Qi halted.

The surroundings were silent.

Too silent.

No birdsong, no insect chirps, not even the rustle of wind through leaves.

The forest felt like a colossal corpse, its soul ripped away.

The Origin Realm creatures that had been shrieking here yesterday were gone—not a trace remained.

They’d fled.

Or been "cleansed."

Su Qi crouched, pinching a handful of soil.

It was unnaturally ashen, devoid of vitality.

He could sense it—the "Origin" of this land was withering.

A frigid, corrupt force, saturated with death and malice, spread like a virus through the earth’s veins, seeping toward every corner of the Origin Realm.

And its epicenter lay at the forest’s heart.

Standing, he dusted off his hands and pressed forward.

Soon, he stopped again.

Ahead, beneath an ancient tree, a sinister crimson flower bloomed in eerie stillness.

Its petals were vivid, the dark-gold veins along their edges sharper and more sinister than the one Yun Huang had encountered yesterday.

Beneath it, the desiccated corpse of a seventh-tier Wind Wolf had been drained of all life—now mere fertilizer for the blossom.

"Truly... 'No fire can burn it all; spring breezes revive the dead.'"

Su Qi clicked his tongue, unsurprised.

He could feel the flower’s "call."

The mental lure was a hundred times stronger than what the trainees had faced—a tangible psychic assault.

[Come...]

[Become part of me...]

[You shall gain... divine power...]

The voice slithered into his mind, dripping with temptation.

Su Qi scratched his ear.

Then, nonchalantly, he raised his foot—and stomped.

Squelch.

A soft sound.

The demonic flower, capable of shattering a seventh-tier mind and its grand promises of godhood, was crushed into the dirt like a cigarette butt.

For good measure, he wiped his sole on a patch of grass.

His gaze lifted toward the forest’s core.

Through the distance, he could almost see it—a colossal, sky-blotting horror of a flower, fed by countless corpses and despair, unfurling its petals in the fog-shrouded depths.

That was the mother plant.

These were just its seeds.