The glimpse of the array's dark heart stirred murmurs across the stone bleachers. A collective murmur, like the rustling of dry leaves, rippled through the stands. Elder Mo, his face still contorted, barked orders. “What are you all gawking at? Cover that! Now!” Within moments, a flurry of disciples, their faces pale with panic, scrambled to unfurl an enormous crimson tarp. They draped it clumsily over the cracked section of the arena floor, their movements agitated, betraying the sect’s composure. The glimpse of that foul miasma stoked hot fury beneath Lu Fengxiao's ribs. He needed to know more, and fast. The Heavenly Brand on his chest pulsed with a dull ache, a reminder of the ticking clock. “Xue-Zhi,” Lu muttered, his voice low, barely audible over the renewed clamor as the sect tried to restore order. The crimson banner now billowed gently in the arena, masking the damage but not the unease. “My furry little friend, I need you to perform a covert operation.” Xue-Zhi, perched precariously on Lu’s hat, twitched its nose. “A ‘covert operation’? Is that a fancy way of saying ‘get myself possibly disintegrated by a Qi trap for your sake’?” “Precisely,” Lu said, a sliver of a smile touching his lips. “Elder Mo keeps his secrets in his study, likely in the private chambers near the sect treasury. I need you to find any scrolls, any diagrams, anything that details the layout of this… ‘Jade Viper Drainage Formation’.” Xue-Zhi groaned. “Why me? Can’t you just use your ‘unmatched Sky-Cleaving…'” It trailed off as Lu shot him a look. “Right, right. No Qi. Fine. But if I end up as a crispy critter, I’m haunting your tea-house.” With a flick of its tail, the small rodent darted from Lu’s hat, a blur of grey against the backdrop of the Cloud-Piercing Pavilion’s soaring spires. It made its way through the chaotic aftermath, using the panicking disciples as cover. The sect’s inner sanctum was guarded by intricate Qi-laced barriers, shimmering lines of light that crisscrossed the corridors like invisible tripwires. Elder Mo, a meticulous and paranoid man, had ensured his study was an impenetrable fortress. Xue-Zhi approached a corridor where vibrant, emerald beams of Qi flickered like silent lightning. These were the notorious ‘Soul-Severing Strands’, capable of reducing anything with even a hint of Qi to ash. For a normal sentient creature, they were an absolute deterrent. But Xue-Zhi had a plan, albeit an embarrassing one. It spotted a stray acorn dropped by a careless bird. With exaggerated, clumsy movements, it began to chase the acorn, tumbling and rolling as if completely oblivious to its surroundings. The emerald strands, designed to detect complex Qi fluctuations, registered Xue-Zhi as nothing more than an erratic, mindless rodent. It bounced off one beam, then another, its small body passing harmlessly through the deadly lattice. Each time it bumped, it would squeak indignantly at the acorn, as if blaming the inanimate nut for its poor coordination. The traps simply let it pass, dismissing it as a non-threat. Deeping further into the inner chambers, Xue-Zhi encountered the sect’s fearsome guardians: two colossal Umbral-Hounds, their eyes burning with sour violet light, their fangs dripping with a viscous, black ichor. Their snarls were low growls that vibrated the very air. They were trained to attack anything that wasn’t a recognized sect member. Xue-Zhi, however, had come prepared. From a small pouch it had secured to its belly, it produced a handful of plump, purple berries. These weren’t ordinary berries; they were ‘Stagger-Fruit’, highly fermented for weeks in a hollow log, known for their potent, disorienting effects on even powerful beasts. It tossed a few at the beasts, aiming for their broad snouts. The beasts, momentarily intrigued by the unusual offering, sniffed them, then gulped them down with a single crunch. Seconds later, one beast let out a bewildered yelp, its head lolling to the side as it tried to chase its own tail, stumbling into the other. The second hound started whimpering, its glowing eyes crossing comically before it collapsed into a heap, snoring loudly, a faint scent of boozy fruit permeating the air. Xue-Zhi scampered past them, leaving behind a trail of unconscious, inebriated guardians. It found Elder Mo’s study, a lavish room filled with scrolls and dark, arcane artifacts. On a polished ebony desk, amidst scattered notes, lay a leather-bound diary, its cover adorned with a stylized jade serpent. This had to be it. Xue-Zhi snatched it, tucking it carefully into its pouch, and retraced its steps, leaving the guards to their drunken slumber. Back in the stands, Lu Fengxiao felt a profound exhaustion settle upon him. The brief exposure of the array, the subsequent frenzy, and the sheer tension of Zhiruo’s match had pushed his control to its absolute limit. The Brand on his chest was a dull, persistent throb, threatening to ignite into full-blown agony. Just as his willpower began to fray, a soft hand touched his arm. “Fengxiao,” Pei Suyin’s voice was a gentle melody, a cool balm in the rising heat of his internal struggle. She stood beside him, holding a small, steaming clay pot. The delicate aroma of honeysuckle and mountain moss wafted from it. “I’ve brewed something for you.” She poured a pale, green liquid into a simple ceramic cup, offering it to him. “A Moon-Dew infusion, with a touch of Silken-Leaf. It should calm the… agitation.” Her eyes, serene and understanding, met his, acknowledging the invisible torment without ever needing to speak its name. Lu took the cup, its warmth seeping into his trembling hands. The first sip was like cool water on a parched throat, quieting the edges of his temper. The throbbing in his chest receded, replaced by a gentle hum. Just then, Xue-Zhi reappeared, dropping the leather-bound diary onto Lu’s lap with a triumphant squeak. “You owe me a lifetime supply of roasted pine nuts for that one, old man.” Lu ignored the squirrel, his fingers tracing the scaled emblem on the diary’s cover. He opened it, his eyes scanning the elegant script within. It was Elder Mo’s private log, detailing his perverse fascination with soul-draining arrays. Lu’s gaze sharpened, moving past the boasts and depraved musings, until he found the diagrams and schematics of the Jade Viper Array. His knuckles went white against the vellum. The final stage, the ‘Climax Altar’, was not just designed to absorb the participants’ Qi. It was a precise, terrifying mechanism. Elder Mo had detailed his modifications with chilling glee. The array would reach its apex, its harvesting power reaching critical mass, precisely three minutes before Lu Fengxiao’s own Heavenly countdown was set to expire. And its target, its ultimate sacrifice, was explicitly designed to consume the very essence of Zhiruo’s soul.

Heist of the Fermented Berries