Chương 9: Chapter 8: TO PREDATE

How onyxgleam wolves were the most dangerous third-step gleam beasts, to the point there were records of them killing even fifth-step gleam beasts before. Chromal beasts, like artifacts, had spiritskills, powers that resembled the bondskills of cultivators. And the onyxgleam wolf had two of them. One was Onyx Blind Flash, which could temporarily blind those caught in it.

That was troublesome enough already, but the other spiritskill was the real issue, the reason they could kill above their step: Hastespace Manifestation. Onyxgleam wolves were one of the rare few Redrealm beasts that could manifest hastespace—an ability usually reserved for cultivators at tenth-step Redrealm. The power to hasten time in the space around them. The onyxgleam wolf's hastespace wasn't too strong, far from that of a tenth-step Redsoul, but it was still a significant advantage.

The wolf took a slow, deliberate step forward, slightly lowering its body forward as it did. A stream of sunlight caught on the wolf's back, lighting it up with a grayish glow. The beast bared sharp, pearly teeth, and a low, deep growl rumbled out of its mouth. Its orange eyes flashed, and the shards of gleamstone it had instead of fur moved on their own, one and all, standing on end, bristling, rattling. Vibrating. The sound of it melded into the rumbling growl in a sharp, strident cacophony that filled the air.

"It's trying to frighten us," Meiyao said, whisper-soft. She had her saber out, one-edged blade facing forward, held in front of her, ready. Not a tremble to her voice, the delivery smooth, steely, analytical.

"Unsettle us, throw us off balance. Make us easier prey." Jieyuan gripped his own spear tighter. He had both hands on the shaft, holding the spear steady by his side and across his front, the short, triangular blade making up the head pointing directly at the wolf. Legs bent in a half-crouch, spaced. Feet firmly planted on the ground. This was a bad idea.

Even if their plan had been to make straight for the Inner Valley, for the Third Ring, an onyxgleam wolf was definitely not the kind of target they should start with. But his heart was ramming against his rib cage like it was trying to burst out, and his blood was rushing, pumping, thumping in his ears. There was no cool pit of dread settling in his stomach. No. Far from that. He was afire, flames roaring in his chest, searing heat coursing through his veins.

Goosebumps prickled his body, running up and down his arms and legs and back. And what brought them on was a hot, crazed hunger. Jieyuan swallowed thickly, trying to get himself under control. He knew what he was feeling, even if it'd never come this strong before. A Firesoul's burning, undeniable need to let loose and wreak havoc. The need to be like fire and scorch the earth. You couldn't dangle a challenge in front of a Firesoul and expect them not to take the bait. Rot. This is— This is bad.

He felt like he was about to burst. He was well aware of his alignment, but his Firesoul traits were of a subtler, deeper variety. Ambition. Passion, maybe. He was far from your standard reckless Firesoul; his father had made sure of that. Suddenly, though, he wasn't so sure anymore. Under the force of his fire, his previous wariness and apprehension burned away; there was no longer some unseen enemy prowling the shadows, no possibility of a sudden ambush hanging over his thoughts.

The enemy was there, in plain sight. This was a battle, and battles were what Firesouls were born for, what they lived for. The beast was still eyeing them, growling but motionless. Ground yourself. Jieyuan forced himself to think through the red haze. Could they do this? The three of them, against an onyxgleam wolf? It'd been their idea from their start to hunt a third-step Redsoul beast, but this was one of the worst to start with; in fact, ideally they'd have practiced with second-step ones first.

But could they do this anyway? Take on the beast in front of them? Yes, Jieyuan decided. Part of it was the fire speaking, to be sure. But they could do this, he had no doubt about that. It'd be dangerous, and far from ideal, but definitely feasible. His eyes roved the wolf's body. Thin gray lines cut across its crystal coat. Gaps in its armor, where there was no crystal, exposing rough, gray skin. Unlike gleam plants, gleam beasts weren't made from crystal, just covered in it.

One of these lines split the upper half of the beast's face in half, branched at the muzzle and then converged back at its chest, where it ran down in a thin line through its center until it disappeared out of sight. Around the base of its neck was another one, horizontal, intersecting with the vertical line. Another two vertical rifts, one on each foreleg, running across their length.

Its hind legs should be much the same, and Jieyuan remembered there being another thin vertical breach spanning the entire back of the onyxgleam wolf he'd seen in the sect's vivarium. Plenty of weak points to target. Not to mention the eyes. The problem was getting his blade into them. The wolf would be fast, agile, and probably significantly more than the three of them were. The dizzying light show the forest was putting on definitely didn't help, either.

"We're doing this, then?" The words came out slowly, charged with heavy expectation. He kept his eyes trained, unblinking, on the crouching, still-growling wolf. They hadn't a chance to work out anything even resembling a battle plan; the wolf hadn't attacked yet, and didn't seem planning on it, so they might still be able to quickly put together something of a plan. Meiyao didn't get a chance to respond. The wolf suddenly went silent. All sounds—growling and ringing—ceased.

Jieyuan felt a spike of tension, knowing, somehow, what'd come next. The beast lunged, blurring through the air. Hastespace. It ripped across the ground and around the trees as if it were on open ground, the clashing of its paws against the crystal ground coming out as a whole, unbroken keen, moving with speed that it shouldn't have. And then it was upon them. Jieyuan brought his spear forward, teeth clenched as he braced for impact, all in a flickering, unthinking moment.

Something sped past from behind him, and then Daojue was there, front and center, meeting the wolf's charge head-on with his spear. There was a dull, near-deafening chime as the spear blade struck the wolf's shoulder, the beast's head snapping out of the way of a strike that would have gone right through its eye. Even though the impact must've shaken his arms something fierce, Daojue was already moving, spinning on his feet, bringing his spear sideways in a sweeping arc at the wolf's head.

But the beast was faster, moving unnaturally quickly, crouching under the flying blade, then lunging forward with a snap of teeth. Daojue just barely stepped back in time to avoid the bite. And then the beast was turning to the side, using its head to meet a strike from Meiyao's saber from the left. Meiyao's blade wailed as it met hard gleamstone, and she skipped back. Meanwhile, Daojue was closing back in with another stab, and this time Jieyuan wasn't far behind.

As Daojue came from the front again, Jieyuan dashed to the right side, eyes on the gap in its armor. Then he let his spear loose, the blade whistling. Just as it was about to make contact, seemingly just a hair's breadth away, the wolf moved fractionally to the side with that same blurring speed, and his blade hit gleamstone armor. Jieyuan felt the impact up his arm, but he was a cultivator. Pain was his philosophy.

The wolf lunged at him with a snarl, and Jieyuan barely had a moment to hold his spear out in front of him before meeting the wolf's rush with its shaft. Its muzzle struck his spear, backed by the bulk of its entire body. It hit like a boulder, and his arms almost snapped, bones rattling at the sheer impact of it. He struggled to hold on, tapping fully into his mantle, drawing its pressure-like power into the muscles of his arms, back, core, and legs, quadrupling their strength.

Up close, the wolf looked enormously big, its gleamstone-armored head larger than Jieyuan's chest, its eyes bigger than his fists. Its mouth half-open, wide enough to bite his head right off his body. A strangely pleasant scent wafted up at him from the wolf, brushing against his face. A sweet, inviting smell rather than the heavy, cloying stench he'd have expected from a beast. His nose tingled as he breathed it in.

Then the beast let out a low whine, rearing its head back, and the weight bearing down on him vanished. Just off to the side, Jieyuan saw Daojue removing his spear from where it'd pierced the wolf on the shoulder. At the other side was Meiyao, slashing at it from the other direction, saber singing in the air. Jieyuan grinned as he forced his body to move again despite all the aches he'd won in just a few moments, throwing himself back into the fray.

Meiyao was now the one taking on the beast from the front, Daojue coming down from the right. Thick, dark red blood bubbled from the wound Daojue had just opened in its leg, dripping down its dark crystalline armor, tainting it crimson. Somehow, they were working together. Making it work. Not perfectly—far from it—but far better than he'd have thought possible right off the bat like this. Weaving between each other's attacks. Making openings for the other to take.

For the first time, he felt like he was in a team, and he was only too happy to do his part. Circling the group, Jieyuan took the other side, searched for an opening—for a single brief instant of stillness, for a snap of visibility among its blurring movements—spear held ready, eager in his grip. The glow of the forest didn't make his job any easier, the wolf's coat catching the light from the gleamstone surrounding them and reflecting it as a darker, grayer glint.

His eyes flickered back to the still-bleeding wound on the wolf's hind leg and the beautiful, lustrous track of blood it left on the beast's dark-gray shimmering coat of crystal, and the fire inside him sung. First blood was theirs. They were winning. They could do this. They could— The wolf's crystal fur flashed with a dim gray light, and then Jieyuan's vision went black. Pitch black. Everything was gone, vanished.

One moment there'd been kaleidoscopic lights blasting at him from all directions, and then there was only pure, absolute darkness. Still caught up processing his sudden blindness, Jieyuan detected a presence barreling towards him with his soulsenses. Still utterly blind, submerged in darkness, he snapped his spear out instinctively, but it was batted aside as the presence drew nearer. With his soulsenses, he could make out the outline of a head in spirit, third-shade red, coming down at him.

Another presence—a human-shaped red outline—slammed onto him from the side, and he was thrown to the side. His back slammed into the trunk of a crystal tree, hard. The blow knocked the air out of him, the spear out of his hands. And all of a sudden he could see again. Meiyao was just in front of him, her back to him, saber held out in front of her, one hand on its hilt, the other hand with its metal-sheathed palm pressed against the blade, holding the onyxgleam wolf back with the blade of her saber.

Then the wolf turned to the side to deflect a stab from Daojue.

"Spiritskill," Meiyao snapped at him without so much as a glance his way, before throwing herself at the wolf again. Right. Onyx Blind Flash. The spiritskill of the onyxgleam wolf. Jieyuan snatched his spear back from the ground and steadied his form again, mind whirling. He recalled what the elder in the vivarium had told him and what he'd read in the material the sect had provided on the Gleamstone Hunt.

Onyx Blind Flash momentarily blinded those who were caught in it—those who were looking at the wolf when it was used. Activation preceded by its fur glowing for a moment. Flashing. He licked his lips. He'd already made a critical mistake, and the fight had barely begun. Heart hammering in his chest, blood roaring in his ears, Jieyuan forced himself away from the fiery, unthinking haze he was in, forced his thoughts through it. Or at least as much as he could manage.

Which turned out to be enough to remind him that the wolf wasn't the only one with tricks to pull. The only one with skills to use. Jieyuan fought the unbearable itch to rejoin the battle, fought the burning want for thoughtless violence, as he put his mind to work. But even as he did some furious thinking, he still drew closer, unable to stay completely away, already on the lookout for another opening as Meiyao and Daojue and hacked and stabbed. Absolute Will Command.

He reached for his bondskill as he considered possibilities. But there wasn't much room or time for complex thinking in a battle like this, and he wasn't really in the right frame of mind for that. Simple and dirty was the best he could do right now. It'd have to suffice." Stop," he commanded, eyes on the wolf. A good chunk of chroma vanished from his soulprism. An intangible bond snapped into place between him and the beast, and his command issued forth.

And his body locked up entirely as a primal, bestial NO roared back in response at him like thunder booming from the Heavens. It struck him like a physical blow that'd have staggered him back if he hadn't been rendered completely and utterly motionless by the strain of the skill. Jieyuan gritted his teeth, his mind screaming, breaking apart, as he stood his ground mentally and physically—and for a brief, almost insignificant moment, the wolf's movements visibly slowed.

A moment that didn't go to waste as Meiyao's saber cut across the wolf's neck from below, sliding sideways right through the gap at its base, sending crimson blood spluttering. The wolf let out a long, booming howl, and its coat flashed. Jieyuan whipped his head to the side, looking away—and this time he didn't go blind. He turned back to look at the wolf and saw that it had retreated a good dozen feet away.

Blood dripped out of its neck, but in comparison to its size it wasn't much—even more so since like cultivators, chromal beasts had augmented regeneration that increased with their step. A third-step Redrealm beast would heal much faster than mundane wolf. Jieyuan lost a good chunk of chroma and gotten a great deal more exhausted, all for a wound that wasn't even serious. Another mistake, right after the last one. He really had to get a grip on himself.

This was the first fight he was in, and all of this was new to him. But none of that mattered. The Heavens cared little for your lack of experience; the wolf certainly didn't. Jieyuan needed to do better. Get his fire under control and get a proper handle on the situation. Start thinking. Daojue and Meiyao were already advancing on the wolf, and he followed. He didn't linger on the bitterness welling up inside him, letting the fire inside him consume it, use it as fuel. The situation wasn't as bad as it seemed.

A wound was a wound. The second one so far. They were holding their own. Had the lead, even. They could manage this. All they had to do was keep it up and not make any more stupid mistakes. He was right behind Meiyao when she broke her run and snapped her arms out sideways.

"STOP!" she called. Jieyuan froze, digging his heels into the ground, managing to stop himself barely an inch away from her outspread arms. On her other side, Daojue also halted, except in his case what Meiyao had put in his way was the blade of her saber. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. The onyxgleam wolf was bristling again, shard-fur chiming as it growled. But the sound was louder than before. Much louder.

And there was something off about it, like it wasn't all coming from the same direction. And then from the trees behind it walked out two other onyxgleam wolves, one on each side. Heavens. Heavens. It had a pack. A rotting pack. The sight of it was like a shock of cold, piercing through the burning, scorching fire that had been fueling him throughout the fight. The two new onyxgleam wolves were now standing beside the first one, fully on the open, looming on either side of it.

Side by side, it was clear that they were slightly smaller than the one between them, but not by much. Still a grown man's height, closer to Meiyao's now than his. Females? Maybe mates of the first wolf, who wasn't even bleeding anymore. Not from its neck, not from its leg. Its crystal coat shimmered with crimson blood that was already drying.

"Retreat," Meiyao said immediately. She lowered her arms from her sides and shifted into a more defensive stance, saber held in front.

"No—no. We can't outrun them. We need to—to get up a tree. High ground. Yes. They can't climb."

"Right," Jieyuan said. He eyed the wolves, who eyed him back, particularly the one directly opposite him. He swallowed. Not all of his fire was gone, but enough of it had died out for him to see that Meiyao had the right of it. Against a single onyxgleam wolf, he'd give the three of them good enough odds. Three of them? Suicide, straight and simple. Of course, it was then that Daojue stepped around Meiyao's saber and then shot forward. Toward the wolves. Jieyuan could scarcely believe his eyes. Of all the things.

Of all the rotting things Daojue could've done.

"Daojue!" Meiyao called.

"DAOJUE!" But Daojue didn't pause, didn't show a single sign of hearing. The three gleam wolves went silent, no longer rattling their shard-fur. And then Daojue was upon the first wolf, stabbing away. Snarling, the middle wolf blurred as it clawed and snapped at Daojue. The other two wolves didn't move. They stayed put, staring back at Jieyuan and Meiyao, both beasts still like crystal statues.

Jieyuan's gaze was locked with that of the wolf directly across from him, its bright, orange irises large and round like full moons, full of dark animal intelligence. A predator's gaze: watchful, considering, hungry. Jieyuan didn't look away from it. He gripped his spear tighter. They could still run, do as Meiyao had said, get up on a tree. But then that'd be it for Daojue.

Even if his teammate seemed to be holding his own so far—it was hard to tell from this far away, the fighting man and beast little more than blurs and shapes—but against three of them, not even Daojue would stand any chance. And Jieyuan couldn't let that happen. Even if he was so very, terribly tempted to let Daojue get what he deserved, let Daojue get what he wanted, because only someone with a death wish would pull a stunt like this. But no. He needed Daojue to get to the bottom of Amyas's memories.

Besides, Jieyuan wouldn't have been able to bring himself to just turn around and leave his teammate to his death, even if said teammate had been asking for it. Meiyao spat something under her breath he didn't catch. The sentiment, though—that Jieyuan got, loud and clear.

"Well, then." He swallowed dry.

"I'll take the left one." He forced out a smile. And even though he didn't feel it at first, the fire inside him—which had almost disappeared altogether with the appearance of the other two wolves—rose again. Surged. Right at the corner of his vision (he refused to break the wolf's stare, knew better than to give it an opening), Daojue was still fighting the gleam wolf in the center, spear snapping and spinning, blurring. Still alive, then.

He still couldn't tell how well Daojue was faring, but that he was still at it and not a mangled corpse was promising. Jieyuan took in a deep breath, fully focusing on the wolf— his wolf—again. One-on-one against an enemy that should take the three of them together to beat. Sure. Dandy. He'd do it somehow, even if only so he could beat Daojue to within an inch of death afterward. Beat the stupid out of him.

"The right one for me," came Meiyao's reply. She rushed forward. He was but a beat behind, and he got about twelve steps in before the wolf reacted. From absolute stillness it snapped into a crouch, four legs bending, body tilting forward, and then it leaped —pushing off against gleamstone, launching itself forward, paws barely touching the ground as it sped towards him. Jieyuan just barely managed to throw himself to the side.

The wolf barreled past him, sinking its claws into the ground as it did, and then skidded to a short halt as it crashed into a tree. Even as the trunk shook, letting loose a shower of blade-like leaves, the beast was already twisting its body back to face him before it bounded after him again. Again Jieyuan could only react, throwing himself out of the way. He tried to stab at it with his spear but the blade only brushed past hard gleamstone before being thrown off.

This time the beast managed to recover much more quickly, grinding to an almost immediate halt the moment it overshot him. And then it was spinning its body, its tail—a long, thick crystal-coated length that had all the worst qualities of whip and bludgeon—was little more than a gray outline as it flew towards him. It was pure instinct that saved him. He threw himself to the side as the tail snapped through the air where he'd been just moments ago.

His feet barely touched the ground before the beast was upon him again, swiping with its front legs, claws flashing. Jieyuan stabbed with his spear, forced to dodge again the moment he regained his footing, and the blade somehow found the gap on the beast's shoulder, digging into hard flesh. Howling, the beast backed away in retreat. Jieyuan shot back in the opposite direction. He felt breathless. Taking a defensive stance, spear angled slightly forward, shaft across his body, he eyed the beast as it eyed him back.

The wolf was no longer a wild, murderous blur of death and crystals but a prowling, cautious thing, its black-rimmed burning orange eyes intent and assessing as it stared at Jieyuan. Its shard-fur rose, started vibrating, rattling. For his part, Jieyuan squeezed the reprieve for all it was worth. He eyed the bleeding wound on the beast's shoulder and could scarcely believe it. Could scarcely believe all that had just happened, his mind still trying to process it all.

Both the tail strike and the claw swipes would have been more than enough to kill him. Not on the spot, maybe, but the sharp edges would've definitely torn through his body. He clenched his teeth. His arms hurt something fierce, but nothing he couldn't manage. They were functional, and that was all that mattered. The beast, meanwhile, was bleeding.

The blade of his spear was smeared dark red on one side, and as he glanced at it and then back at the beast's bleeding shoulder—the spear had bitten deep, the front of the beast's leg was coated in blood and already there was a little pool of it taking shape around it, on the crystal ground—he felt a surge of savage satisfaction. It fed the flames, and all his aches vanished with it. He would do this. Could do this. The thought—the belief—came suddenly, and it came with the surety of stone and steel.

A fact written in stone, wrought with steel. Seared in with fire. As the wolf grew silent again, Jieyuan didn't wait for it to make its next move. Far as he was concerned, even a moment spent on the defensive—spent reacting—was a moment too long. This time it was him surging forward. And this time the beast was the one forced to react. He crossed the distance in three sweeping strides and then stabbed out with his spear, the blade aligned perfectly with the beast's large, dark eye.

But then the beast growled at him, its fur lighting up with a gray glow. Head whipping to the side, Jieyuan ground to an abrupt halt and jumped away. And as he was turning around to face the beast again he saw that it was now standing where he'd been just a moment ago, and it was spinning again, its tail flying like a bludgeon. It was too close to dodge. Jieyuan barely raised his spear up in time to meet the attack— And the tail struck the spear with such force that his arms and hands simply gave up.

It was with a cool pit of dread blooming in his gut that Jieyuan felt his grip go slack and the solid, trusty weight of his spear vanish. His spear flew away and off to the side so quickly that even as it left his grip and entered plain-space it still cut through the air in a spinning zoom. It clashed loudly against a tree some good twenty feet away, then dropped to the ground with a loud clatter. Before Jieyuan could think to move toward it, the wolf struck at him with its forelegs, and he was forced to retreat.

And with that the wolf moved to the side, placing itself between him and his spear. Jieyuan wasn't sure he was only imagining the satisfaction in its squinting orange eyes and curling lips as it stared back at him, letting out a distinctly taunting little growl. A predator, playing with its prey. Jieyuan's distress was immediately swallowed up by a heady surge of rage. He thought furiously. He had no spear. He only had his body, and… and—And an idea.

Jumping back, Jieyuan reached into one of the inner pockets of his robe and pulled out one of the four pills he'd placed there before he set out for the hunt. A large, red chunk of a pill. Not something meant to be swallowed. Not unless you enjoyed choking. He took a deep breath, fully filling his lungs. The wolf lunged at him, and Jieyuan threw the pill down, on the ground—and the Cultivator's Agony Beacon exploded right in front of it into a cloud of red beacon dust. Choke on this.

Holding his breath, Jieyuan held his ground as the beast, floundering, crashed down in front of him. It recovered quickly and struck at him with its forelegs, but Jieyuan stepped back even before it moved, letting the claws pass harmlessly past him. The next attack he dodged, same for the one after it. All inside the glowing red cloud of haze left behind by the beacon pill. One, two, three, four …

He counted the seconds as the beast kept swiping and clawing and biting at him, even as it tried another spinning tail strike, but now that he was focused entirely on dodging it couldn't hit him. Not with its shoulder injured like that, restraining its mobility. On the tenth count, the beast suddenly went very still. What came next was a thunderous, shaking howl charged with insane, visceral pain. Charged with a cultivator's agony.

The beast howled frantically as it shook itself all over, all of its shard-fur standing on end and vibrating madly, the sound of it all as loud as its howl and near deafening. It had completely forgotten about him, lost in mindless agony. Jieyuan didn't hesitate; he immediately dashed past it and retrieved his spear. Picking it up, he rushed back toward the beast which was standing there, shaking and howling. You wanted to play, didn't you? Let's play.

He advanced on the beast, his eyes on its wide, gaping, open jaw. On the glimpses of pink tongue he caught as it howled in agony. Then he stopped, standing, tracking its movements. He couldn't hold his breath for too long, and his every instinct screamed at him to just charge at it, but he ignored all of it, grounding himself. He needed to get this just right. It wasn't the eyes he was interested in. It might incapacitate the beast, make it blind—but he needed to take it down. Kill it.

And he didn't know if he could get the blade through the eye socket. For the same reason, the gaps in the gleamstone armor in the center of the head or chest wouldn't do, either; he didn't know how tough its bones were and didn't want to risk not being able to break the skull or the ribs. There was another gap, though. One that should do the trick. The wolf threw its head back—and Jieyuan threw himself forward, stabbing out with his spear.

It burrowed right into the base of the beast's neck, right through the slit gap in its gleamstone armor. There was some resistance as the blade pierced flesh and muscle, but not as much as he'd have thought. It burrowed itself fully in. The beast's howl of pains became gurgled; blood bubbled out of its maw. Its body shook as it jerked its neck—but Jieyuan held firm, and all the wolf's movements did was jerk the blade around in its neck, tearing up its insides further.

The howls grew weaker and weaker, the rattling of its shard-fur dying, until the beast finally fell, legs folding as it tipped over onto its side. It crashed into the ground. The beast's chest heaved as it lay there, whimpering. Standing over the beast, still holding the spear stabbed inside its neck, Jieyuan watched as the wolf gave a bubbling, keeling whine, its fur rattling out one last, piercing, crazed rattle that had him taking an uneasy step back.

But then its fur fell flat against its body, and its chest stopped heaving. Slowly its movements—all the shaking, all the trembling—got slower, weaker. Jieyuan couldn't look away as the beast grew more and more still, until it finally stopped moving altogether. In each and every way. Completely still. Dead still. He stared down at the beast. A large pool of deep, shimmering crimson blood was blooming under it, staining the crystal floor a vibrant red.

He felt the urge to breathe, to just draw in large mouthfuls of air, but a part of him was aware enough to know that doing so here, surrounded by the poisonous beacon dust, wasn't the brightest idea. He gave a kick to the beast's side, then another. It remained completely motionless. The fire inside him was still going strong, but he felt distant from it now. Numb. Jieyuan shrugged, then turned around and trudged out of the beacon dust. He looked around.

His fight with the wolf had him moving around quite a bit, but he could see the others. Hear them, even, though his ears were ringing. Meiyao… He saw her, the view only partially blocked by some trees. She was… He blinked. She was glowing—very softly, but it was there, her body radiating green light—and there was a very faint red haze around her. Not a glowing haze; not beacon dust. The only thing glowing there was Meiyao herself. And the haze was too faint and too small to be beacon dust, anyway.

It was only around her and the wolf she was… leaping on top of? Jieyuan stepped to the side, leaning, so that the trees weren't in the way anymore. Just in time to see Meiyao land on the wolf's back and then drive her saber into the base of its neck. Her blade sunk out of sight. The wolf immediately collapsed. Meiyao remained standing on top of it, her hair a wild, tangled mess of brown, her ruby robes drenched, sticking against— Not going there. Jieyuan turned away. And his eyes fell on Daojue.

Daojue, standing over the corpse of an onyxgleam wolf, hands holding onto the shaft of his spear, the blade buried in the middle of the wolf's forehead. Daojue, who'd thrown all semblance of caution to the wind and rushed headfirst into suicide by beast and forced him and Meiyao into a battle that could've easily cost them their lives (that should have cost them their lives) because the alternative was leaving their teammate to his death. Daojue. Who was just standing there, staring down at the wolf he'd killed.

Daojue. The fire returned with a vengeance. Before Jieyuan knew it, he was marching, shouting, "DAOJUE!" Daojue turned around, and the man had the sheer gall to level him with that steely, impassive stare of his. Jieyuan wasn't having it. He'd wipe that look right out of Daojue's face. He was almost at Daojue now, spear by his side, fire roaring murder inside him, pouring out of his mouth as boiling venom.

"What is wrong with you, you—" And then he was being shoved out of the way as a red and brown shape ran past him. And then Meiyao, no longer glowing, was there, right in front of him, in front of Daojue. Slamming her fist straight into Daojue's face. Daojue's hand shot up, snatching Meiyao by the wrist, holding her wrist in place barely an inch from his face. Daojue stared down at Meiyao, violet eyes cool and steely. Meiyao stared back up at him, glaring murder, green eyes aflame. Neither moved.

Just stood there, locked in place. A beat. Meiyao jerked her arm back, wrenching her hand away. She didn't retreat, though. Stood her ground not even a foot away from Daojue. Both hands now on the hilt of her saber; she didn't draw it, but she held it with such visible tension that it was clear she could have it up and swinging in an instant.

Daojue, for his part, without taking his eyes off Meiyao, plucked his spear from where it'd been stabbing the onyxgleam wolf he'd killed, and got it in a one-handed grip, blade facing down, shaft half-cradled under his right arm.

"Retreat," Meiyao said, slowly, frostily.

"Retreat. That's what I said. Retreat. What were you thinking?" The surprise from Meiyao's abrupt attack had faded, and Jieyuan felt the urge to butt his way in, to get involved, to join Meiyao in giving Daojue a piece of his mind and then some— No. Jieyuan gritted his teeth, took a deep breath. If there was one thing his old man had hammered into his head, it was to never act on his rage. Someone pissed you off, and you wanted to beat them dead?

You took a step back, cooled down, thought things through—and if you found you still wanted that person dead, then you did it properly, in a way that couldn't be traced back to you. Step back. Cool down. Think things through. Ground yourself. It was hard, though. Fighting for your life—and winning that rotting fight— was a high like no other. Meiyao didn't give Daojue time to reply (not that Jieyuan thought he would have, anyway)." Rotter," she spat.

"Come on, then. Tell me. Are your eyes rotten? Did you not see the other two wolves? Or maybe your ears are rot, and didn't hear my call to retreat? Or are you neither deaf nor blind but simply out of your rotting mind?" She slid her saber a fraction off its sheath. Daojue had no reaction.

"Because if it's your rotting eyes you're not using, I'll carve them out of you," she said, whisper-low but with the hardness of winter's steel.

"If it's your ears, I'll rip them off. And if it's your brain, if that's what you're not using, then surely you won't mind me putting my rotting saber through your rotting skull." Meiyao bared her teeth, lips pulling back viciously, eyes narrow and wild, outright snarling at Daojue. Now Daojue was moving too, slowly, straightening his spear. The tension turned the air as thick as syrup. And Jieyuan decided he had to do something about this. Neither Daojue nor Meiyao would give up ground.

They might very well fight to the death. He couldn't let that happen. He needed both of them, for all sorts of reasons. But he still wanted so very much to give Daojue a punch of his own—"Calm down," he whispered. Commanded. Envisioning himself. Chroma vanished from his soulprism. And so did his rage. Cool clarity replaced it. He shivered. Heavens, but he'd have to thank Maeva later. Or at least his hallucination of her. Now for Meiyao and Daojue. All right, we're doing this. Rot it.

Jieyuan struck out with his spear, the blade stabbing into the air between Meiyao and Daojue. He held it in that position, the blade hovering there, between his two teammates.

"So. How about we don't kill each other? What do you two say to that? Sounds good?" Meiyao turned her head to face him, slowly, but keeping Daojue in her line of sight." What?" she demanded, eyes flicking from Daojue, to the spearhead Jieyuan had placed right in front of her eyes, to Jieyuan himself. Daojue similarly turned a fraction to look at him, and his teammate had that terrifying, fathomless look in his eyes that promised nothing good and everything bad.

"This? All of this? It's stupid. Won't do us any good," Jieyuan said, holding his spear steady. He kept sacrificing chroma to Absolute Will Command. That was the only reason he still had his cool. And even then, even calm as he was now, he was still very much so tempted to throw down with Daojue. It felt so wrong, so hypocritical of him to try and mediate things. But cold reasoning was what was driving him now, moving him.

"We're here to hunt beasts, not each other. So, like I said, let's not. All right?"

"Are you serious?" Wide-eyed disbelief bled into Meiyao's tight-jawed rage.

"He just—""Oh, I know," Jieyuan cut in. Deciding it'd be worth the risk, he let his spear drop slightly and took three large strides, placing him directly between Daojue and Meiyao, his body almost touching the both of them on either side. He had his back facing Daojue, trusting that if the man would've taken the initiative to attack, he'd have done so already. And that Daojue wouldn't attack someone with their back turned to him.

Out of all the impressions he'd gotten from Daojue so far, backstabbing and sneaky weren't among them. No, Daojue was as straightforward as they came.

"But even if you two fight, Meiyao, even if you beat him black and blue, that won't do you any good. Or do you really think a good beat-down is what it'll take to get Daojue to change his ways?" Now that he'd cooled down—forcefully as it was—he'd started doubting that there was anything they could do to that effect. Metalsoul was the most stubborn alignment, and in Daojue's case, that notorious stubbornness was elevated to an art form.

Of course, Jieyuan also didn't say that he doubted Daojue would be the one to lose if a fight did break out. Meiyao was good. Borderline peerless, really. One of the best he'd ever seen. But not the best. She was second-best. Daojue was best, something else altogether. Jieyuan wouldn't be confident about their odds even if he and Meiyao teamed up against their third teammate. Jieyuan knew better than to voice those thoughts, though.

If he told Meiyao as much, he suspected she'd run her saber through both him and Daojue at the same time. She was certainly close enough to pull it off. Meiyao glared at him, before shifting her glare to Daojue, still visibly incensed. Her eyes flashed, her posture shifted. Jieyuan's breath caught. Rot. Come on, Meiyao. Don't do this. He gripped his spear tighter, readying himself. But then Meiyao drew back and slammed her saber back in its sheathe."

Rot you," she said, and Jieyuan wasn't sure whether that was meant for him or Daojue. Both, probably.