Water droplets slid down the rock wall, leaving a wet streak across the bronze plaque before Chen Wuya wiped it away with his fingertips. He flipped the plaque over. In the faint light, the wolf-head totem looked somber and oppressive. A moment later, he rose, tucked the plaque into his robe, and moved decisively without sparing it another glance.
Bai Zhi stood beside him. Her sword had not moved, but her gaze was already fixed on his face. She did not ask what came next. She simply waited.
"That corpse will be discovered soon," Chen Wuya said quietly. "When they see the iron plaque, they'll think something has gone wrong with the formation's core. Sooner or later, the sorcerer will come down to inspect it himself."
"You plan to make your move there?" she asked.
"Not make a move. End it." He turned toward the cave entrance. "We can't leave this place standing. Demons aren't born that way, and people don't have to become demons. But as long as this stronghold remains, more people will be dragged in and turned into the next puppets."
Without stopping, he swiftly retraced their path out of the demon lair. Bai Zhi followed close behind. One after the other, they passed through the narrow passage, avoiding several loose stone slabs, and soon climbed up the outer cliff.
Dawn had yet to break, and mist drifted through the depths of the mountain forest. The distant village lay silent, with only the soft whisper of wind brushing the treetops. They climbed a high slope and looked down into the valley. Seven li to the south, the vague outline of a collapsed temple could be seen, half-buried among vines and scattered boulders. Without a close look, it was almost one with the desolate mountains.
Chen Wuya took