After finishing his meal, Loa tidied up.
He doused the fire with water and stamped down the embers, leaving no trace. It was a habit he had developed in the mountains-you never knew what might follow the smell of smoke and fire.
"Let's go," he called.
Wangcai ran over from the stream, still carrying a bone he had not finished gnawing, chewing as he walked.
The man and dog continued north.
They walked about ten li.
The forest grew denser, the trees ever thicker. Branches and leaves blotted out the sky, filtering the sunlight into tiny patches. A thick layer of fallen leaves covered the ground, soft and silent underfoot.
Loa stopped.
"Come out," he said without turning his head. "You've been following us all this way, my friend."
Only the cold wind passed through the forest.
Nothing stirred.
"Boss?" Wangcai grew alert, pricking up his ears and looking around. "An enemy?"
He had detected no trace of anyone.
Loa did not answer.
This person was no weakling.
He had nearly missed him in the wind-the man concealed his presence extremely well, blending into the wind and the shadows of the trees, almost without a flaw. But "almost" was not "completely."
Where he passed, there were exceedingly slight changes in the flow of the wind.
Those changes were so minute that back at the waterfall, Loa had only vaguely sensed that someone was watching him, without being certain. But after being followed all this way, he had caught them.
"Since you won't come out," Loa said, turning to look southeast, "I won't stand on ceremony."
Before he finished speaking, he raised his hand and pointed.
An azure-violet sword ray shot from his fingertip!
There was no gathering of power, no opening stance, just a casual point of his finger.