Anshvi and Eklavya remained suspended in the sky, their hands tightly clasped as if that single connection was the only thread keeping them anchored amidst the chaos closing in around them. The storm clouds above churned in dark grey layers, and the sharp smell of ozone drifted in the air as lightning occasionally flashed deep inside the clouds. Eklavya tried to speak, but before the uncertainty forming on his lips could fully take shape, Anshvi’s fingers tightened around his hand. Her expression hardened with a firm determination that left no space for questions. She turned her gaze toward the lone one-star grandmaster floating at a distance.

  “Don’t worry,” she said in a steady voice, not allowing hesitation to find a place between them. “If I fight them all at once, I won’t be able to keep you safe. But in the air, they can’t match my speed.” Her confidence carried the same weight as a vow, and although fear lingered in Eklavya’s eyes, he trusted the conviction in her words.

  Her grip tightened once more—firm, warm, and reassuring—before she leaned forward, pulling him along. In the next instant, her aura surged like a compressed storm erupting outward, and her body shot forward with unimaginable speed. The force of her acceleration carved a thin sonic ribbon behind them, and they streaked across the sky like a thin purple beam arcing toward the lone one-star grandmaster.

  “First, you’ll have to go through me if you want his life, you damn assholes!” Anshvi shouted, her voice sharp with defiance as they raced past the encirclement of grandmaster warriors.

  Her words left a trail of echoes that mixed with the rumbling thunder overhead. Jhanad’s lips lifted into a thin smirk of amusement, though frustration simmered beneath it. The moment he saw them escape the formation, he thrust his hand forward in a commanding gesture.

  “Catch them,” he hissed.

  A burst of murderous intent flooded the sky as master warriors and grandmaster warriors launched themselves after the fleeing pair, using every shred of ki they possessed. The air vibrated with the explosive forces of their flight, and streaks of blue, red, and green ki trailed through the storm-lit sky like falling stars.

  Jhanad watched them disappear with a cold scowl tightening his features. “She’s just a five-star grandmaster,” he growled under his breath, “so why is her speed nearing a half-step spirit warrior?”

  Even though Anshvi had forced open a path through the blockade, the overwhelming speed she unleashed all at once took a heavy toll on her body. Her breathing grew uneven and her ki circulation unstable. After maintaining the furious pace for several minutes, her breath came out in harsh, shallow pulls.

  The disciples and elders of the Falling Leaf Sect closed in from behind, unleashing waves of ki attacks that tore through the air in dazzling arcs. Anshvi twisted her body with practiced precision, weaving between the attacks even in her exhausted state, though every evasive maneuver deepened the strain in her muscles. The sky around them crackled with streaks of explosive ki, each one capable of ending ordinary warrior lives.

  Eklavya watched everything in a frozen silence that gradually tightened around his chest. Guilt crawled up his throat like a slow-burning fire. She was pushing her limits for him—because he was too weak to even protect himself. The realization weighed on him, heavy and suffocating, and yet he couldn’t change the truth.

  They burst past the last steep ridge and descended into a massive valley hidden deep within the mountain range. The land stretched out like a colossal basin surrounded by jagged peaks whose tips disappeared into the dark clouds. Dense clusters of towering trees filled the valley floor, their trunks broad and ancient, their thick foliage shielding much of the ground below from the storm. The wind howled between the cliffs, carrying the scent of wet earth and wild vegetation.

  The valley was enormous—nearly fifty kilometers across in radius, though its irregular shape created pockets of uneven terrain. A great river wound through its center like a silver thread, its turbulent surface reflecting flashes of lightning that turned it momentarily white. Strange formations dotted the valley: nine massive bone-like spikes jutted from the ground, each one taller than the greatest trees, while four straight, pillar-like mountains rose from the earth as if carved deliberately by some forgotten force.

  But the moment they descended into the valley’s depths, a ki blast shot through the air. Anshvi, too tired to dodge it cleanly, so she twisted her body at the last moment, taking the blow directly onto her back. The attack—launched by one of the pursuing six-star grandmasters—carried enough power to kill Eklavya instantly, and she took it without hesitation.

  Pain shot through her body, sharp enough to momentarily freeze her expression. Blood sprayed from her lips as the attack blew her off balance, and the two of them plummeted downward. The world blurred into a chaotic mix of trees, rocks, and swirling storm clouds as they fell toward the valley floor.

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  But Eklavya, jolted by instinct rather than thought, raised his hand. Brilliant golden light erupted around him as five circular formation rings materialized one after another around them.

  “Ten-Chakra Shield.”

  The words left his lips with surprising firmness, as if the technique had always been resting inside his bones, waiting for this exact moment to surface. Five shimmering golden shields layered around them like petals closing around a flower. Their descent slowed only slightly before the force of the fall continued dragging them downward.

  The impact hit them like a tremor shaking the ground, but the shields held strong—none of them broke. Eklavya stared at the glowing formations that clung to his skin, surprised at himself. The technique felt too refined, too powerful to belong to someone at his level.

  Above them, the pursuers halted on the ridge, struggling to locate the pair through the dense canopy. The storm’s haze and the valley’s labyrinth-like terrain made it nearly impossible to pinpoint them.

  “I don’t think they survived a fall from that height,” one elder murmured to Jhanad, his tone uncertain.

  Jhanad’s eyes flashed, and he shook his head sharply. “No. I saw a golden formation shield around them before they fell. They’re alive, and the young masters want the boy dead or alive. It doesn’t matter.”

  The elder nodded and withdrew. Jhanad raised his hand once more, his voice slicing through the storm.

  “Whoever finds and kills that boy,” he announced, “will claim everything he carries.”

  Greed spread across the faces of everyone hearing those words, their eyes gleaming like predators sensing a wounded prey. Without needing another command, the group surged forward, flooding into the valley in pursuit.

  …

  Within the valley, the sound of thunder became distant behind the thick curtain of trees. The air was damp and heavy, filled with the whispering rustle of leaves and the soft pattering of rain that had begun slipping through the branches. Anshvi and Eklavya slowly stood up, both breathing heavily.

  “I’m sorry,” Anshvi said in a faint, strained voice as she pressed her hand against her injured side. “I wasn’t able to dodge the last attack.”

  Her apology pierced through Eklavya more deeply than the storm’s cold wind. Shame washed over him once more, as if her injury was carved into him. “No,” he murmured. “I don’t blame you. It’s my mistake… for being this weak. Only if—”

  She cut him off before the rest could come out. “No, you are not weak. Not for those who needed help. If you hadn’t saved me that day when you were twelve and I was at your age…” She paused, her eyes softening as the memory surfaced. “I would have died long ago.”

  Eklavya gave a small smirk. “It’s no use trying to comfort me with those words.”

  She shook her head firmly. “I am not saying it to comfort you falsely. You really are strong. And you are reliable.”

  A warmth spread across his face—something faint but real—before he nodded. “Whatever the case… we should escape first.”

  She agreed, and the two of them began running deeper into the valley, moving away from the distant echoes of approaching footsteps. Rain continued to fall, soaking through their torn clothes and washing trails of dirt and dried blood from their skin. Some of the pursuers caught sight of them between the trees and immediately shouted, resuming the chase.

  Their legs carried them through a winding path between moss-covered stones and tangled roots. The valley’s wildness surrounded them: tall ferns brushing their shoulders, thick vines dangling from branches above, and the distant roar of beasts echoing from different directions.

  After several minutes of fleeing, they spotted a cave entrance carved into a stony hillside. The opening was dark and wide, shadowed by jagged rocks like open jaws. It seemed like a place to hide—if they could clear the danger inside.

  But before they could enter, a deafening screech thundered from within.

  A massive creature lurched out of the darkness—a monstrous spider-like beast with jagged limbs, each one thicker than Eklavya’s body. Its mandibles dripped with venom, and faint blue lines pulsed across its carapace like glowing veins. Its size alone made the air around it tremble.

  It was a fifth-tier beast. A creature powerful enough to fight a spirit warrior head-on. Eklavya and Anshvi halted immediately as the beast reared up, issuing a guttural growl that vibrated through their bones.

  Then an idea sparked sharply in Eklavya’s mind as he glanced from the colossal spider-like beast to the disciples far away racing toward them. Without wasting a breath, he sprang into the air, drawing every thread of ki into his arm. The golden incantations of the Supreme Body blazed more with a brilliance, and five chakra rings spun steadily around his right hand, humming with raw force. He drove his fist into the beast’s head with a strike powerful enough to crack the earth beneath its legs and force it backward in shock.

  He landed beside Anshvi just as the creature roared—a deep, commanding sound that shook the valley. In response, dozens of third-tier and second-tier beasts emerged from the forest, gathering behind the massive one as if answering their king.

  “So I was right,” Eklavya muttered under his breath, a dark smile forming across his face. “It can control the lower-tier beasts.”

  Before the massive beast could move again, Eklavya acted without hesitation. He grabbed Anshvi in his arms and turned on his heel, sprinting toward the stunned disciples who had been chasing them. His body felt light, as though the adrenaline pulsing through him had pushed him beyond his limits.

  Anshvi’s eyes widened in surprise. “I can run faster than you. This slows us down.”

  He smirked faintly, the corners of his lips lifting with an unspoken confidence. “You’re fast in the air. But on land, if it isn’t a nine-star grandmaster chasing us… no one can catch me.”

  She blinked—and then, unexpectedly, a flush warmed her cheeks. She didn’t struggle in his embrace. Instead, she simply held onto his shoulder, feeling the strength in his grip, his heartbeat steady despite the chaos, and the warmth radiating through his rain-dampened clothes.

  Behind them, the beasts surged forward