Jiang Lin strode toward the bushes.
Feng Xiaotian stood where he was, his gaze fixed on Jiang Lin's back. The pale golden light that had burst from Jiang Lin's pupils still lingered in his mind.
"It noticed me"-what did that mean?
Deep within the bushes, a pair of pale purple eyes slowly lit up. A ring of golden markings surrounded their pupils, like ancient runes glowing faintly among the shadowy branches and leaves.
An Illusion Eyes Deer. A mental-type Soul Beast, skilled at creating illusions to bewilder its opponents. Its age: eight hundred and eighty-seven years.
Feng Xiaotian's gaze sharpened slightly. He had failed to sense this Soul Beast, but Jiang Lin had not only sensed it-the Illusion Eyes Deer had sensed Jiang Lin, too.
Spirit Eyes and illusion eyes. They had locked onto each other.
The instant Jiang Lin stepped into the bushes, the Illusion Eyes Deer's eyes flared. An invisible mental fluctuation spread outward, and the branches and leaves stirred without wind, rustling softly.
The scene before Jiang Lin began to distort.
A pitch-black abyss split open beneath his feet, and a putrid stench surged from the fissure. Countless vines burrowed out, their cold, clammy touch winding around Jiang Lin's ankles, calves, and knees, tightening relentlessly.
Jiang Lin's body was sinking.
Jiang Lin did not stop.
Pale golden light shone in his pupils. His Spirit Eyes pierced the illusion like a red-hot knife slicing through butter. The abyss vanished, the vines vanished, and the putrid stench vanished with them. What Jiang Lin saw was the real scene: the Illusion Eyes Deer was quietly moving left, its body lowered, its hooves making almost no sound against the dead leaves. It wanted to circle around to Jiang Lin's flank.
"I see you." Jiang Lin's voice was quiet.
He drove his Spirit Eyes to their limit, and the Illusion Eyes Deer's movements broke down into individual trajectories before him. The angle of every turn, the timing of every burst of speed, even where it intended to place its next step-all were as clear as lines carved into his mind. This was not a Soul Skill, but an ability of the Spirit Eyes themselves.
And through Spirit Mapping, all of this appeared simultaneously in the minds of Feng Xiaotian, Lu Hanxiao, Ye Qingyu, and Su Ran.
Feng Xiaotian's gaze sharpened slightly. Silver-white light flashed in Lu Hanxiao's pupils. Ye Qingyu rested her fingers lightly on the strings without plucking them. Su Ran's fingers tightened around the cord.
They had all seen it.
Realizing it could not bewilder its opponent, the Illusion Eyes Deer turned and fled. It was extremely fast, darting through the bushes as nimbly as a gust of wind. But Jiang Lin had anticipated its every step.
Jiang Lin did not pursue it. He simply walked into its inevitable path and waited.
The Illusion Eyes Deer plunged straight into Jiang Lin's attack range. Jiang Lin pressed his hand against its forehead. His first Soul Skill, Spirit Eyes · Interference, activated, driving Mental Interference into the Illusion Eyes Deer's consciousness. Its body froze, its limbs twitching faintly. It gave a low, mournful cry, then crumpled to the ground.
A deep yellow Soul Ring slowly rose from the Illusion Eyes Deer.
Jiang Lin sat cross-legged, took a porcelain bottle from inside his clothes, and poured out some Foundation-Fortifying and Essence-Nurturing Powder, swallowing it. The instant the Soul Ring merged into his body, he shuddered violently.
The Illusion Eyes Deer's lingering mental assaults flooded his consciousness. Not one, but countless. It was as though someone had grabbed a handful of needles and driven them into his temples all at once. Every needle bored deeper.
Jiang Lin gritted his teeth without a sound. Sweat slid down his temples and dripped along the bridge of his nose.
He guided that power along the pathways of his Spirit Eyes, circulating it again and again. Slowly, the needles were ground blunt and melted, becoming a warm trickle that sank into the depths of his pupils.
A short while later, Jiang Lin opened his eyes.
Within his light brown pupils, that pale golden light had grown more solid than before. It no longer floated on the surface, but had settled, like a thin golden mist resting quietly deep within his irises.
His second Soul Skill, Spirit Eyes · Lock. It locked onto a single target and predicted its movements.
Jiang Lin rose and returned to the group. His steps were steady, no different from before they entered the mountains. But Feng Xiaotian noticed that, with Jiang Lin's eyes open, the light in those pupils was deeper than before.
Second Soul Skill: predicting trajectories. Feng Xiaotian committed that information to memory. The clearer Jiang Lin's abilities became, the more confidently he could assign positions when leading the team later.
Feng Xiaotian withdrew his gaze and looked at Su Ran.
"Your turn."
Su Ran stood at the edge of the grass. He did not rush to search for a Soul Beast, but sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and drove the presence of his Wind Grain Martial Soul to its limit.
A pale cyan phantom of grain seedlings appeared behind Su Ran, its kernels plump, fine wind patterns slowly flowing along the edges of its leaves. The presence of Wind Grain spread, carrying a faint fragrance of grain-not the smell of freshly harvested straw, but the scent of wheat ears that had basked in sunlight all day, warm and dry.
Su Ran waited. He waited for the Soul Beast that would be drawn by its presence.
Feng Xiaotian stood nearby, watching quietly. Lu Hanxiao leaned against a tree trunk, resting with his eyes closed. Ye Qingyu held her Wind Zither, her gaze on Su Ran. Jiang Lin stood at the edge of the group, his light brown eyes also turned toward Su Ran. Lu Qing and Cheng Luo exchanged a glance without speaking, silently adjusting their positions to shelter Su Ran in the middle.
Before long, the sound of beating wings came from the low cliff. It was soft, like turning pages.
A small bird-type Soul Beast, drawn by Wind Grain's presence, flew down from the cliff face. A Wind Ear Bird. Its feathers were pale gold, and the markings on its chest resembled ripe ears of wheat, each grain neatly aligned. Its beak was pale pink, small and rounded.
The Wind Ear Bird landed on Su Ran's shoulder and tilted its head to look at him. As it turned its head sideways, its amber eyes showed rings of concentric patterns. It bore no hostility. It had simply been drawn by Wind Grain's sweet grain fragrance, like a bee drawn by flowers.
Su Ran opened his eyes and looked at the Wind Ear Bird on his shoulder.
The Wind Ear Bird gently pecked his collar and gave a clear chirp.
Su Ran raised his hand. His fingertips moved, then he lowered it again.
Standing nearby, Feng Xiaotian noticed that gesture. He said nothing.
Su Ran remained silent for several breaths. Then he reached out and gently cradled the Wind Ear Bird's body. It did not struggle, its amber eyes watching him quietly.
Su Ran's other hand covered the top of the Wind Ear Bird's head.
Soul Power flowed from his palm.
The Wind Ear Bird trembled slightly and gave a short chirp-not frightened, but more like a response of farewell. Then its body became a yellow Soul Ring, hovering quietly before Su Ran.
Su Ran looked at that Soul Ring for a long while.
Then he closed his eyes and guided the Soul Ring into his body. The absorption was peaceful, without the violent surges of Soul Power experienced by combat-type Soul Masters. The Wind Ear Bird's Soul Power spread gently through his meridians, like a sip of water at just the right temperature.
A short while later, Su Ran opened his eyes.
His second Soul Skill, Wind Grain · Heal. It restored Soul Power and stamina. Its soul incantation consisted of only three words: "Wind Grain, heal."
Su Ran took a piece of dry ration from his cloth bag. He murmured the soul incantation, and the pale cyan light of his Wind Grain Martial Soul flowed from his fingertips onto the ration's surface. Extremely faint cyan markings appeared across it, like traces left by wind sweeping over a wheat field.
This was his first time using his second Soul Skill to make restorative food.
Su Ran stood, walked over to Ye Qingyu, and offered her the piece of dry ration.
"Try it," Su Ran said.
Ye Qingyu accepted it and took a small bite.
A gentle warmth spread from her throat to her limbs. The Soul Power and stamina she had expended resonating with the Echo Sparrow were recovering little by little. It was not a forceful replenishment, but the kind that nourished all things in silence, like parched earth drinking its fill of water.
Ye Qingyu raised her head, her eyes brightening. "It tastes really good."
Su Ran smiled without speaking.
Ye Qingyu took another bite, chewing very slowly. Su Ran stood beside her, watching her eat.
She finished the ration. Ye Qingyu brushed the crumbs from her hands and found that Su Ran was still looking at her.
"What is it?"
"Nothing." Su Ran looked away toward the road ahead.
Neither spoke again, but at some point, the rhythm of their footsteps became exactly the same.
Feng Xiaotian stood nearby, taking in the scene. He turned, sweeping his gaze over everyone.
Lu Hanxiao leaned against the tree trunk, the presence of his Snowy Owl Martial Soul now completely steady. The cold, razor-sharp bearing he had displayed while absorbing his Soul Ring had withdrawn like a blade returned to its sheath.
Jiang Lin stood at the edge of the group, that pale golden light glowing quietly within his light brown eyes.
Ye Qingyu and Su Ran stood shoulder to shoulder, their shadows overlapping in the sunset.
Lu Qing stood a short distance from Lu Hanxiao, his Wind Scythe already withdrawn into his body. His breathing was steady, and most of the Soul Power spent on his earlier attack had recovered. Only two steps separated the tree trunk Lu Hanxiao leaned against from where Lu Qing stood. Neither spoke, but Lu Qing's angle gave him a clear view of Lu Hanxiao's profile.
Feng Xiaotian took in this scene as well. Between them, these two members of the Lu family had spoken no more than twenty sentences since the groups split up. But the understanding between them needed no words to fill it.
Feng Xiaotian reviewed everyone's condition, sketching an outline of each person in his mind.
He himself belonged to the power attack system. Lu Hanxiao, the agility attack system. The speed and penetrating power of his Snowy Owl Martial Soul, and that silent pressure when he struck, made him a natural assault specialist. Jiang Lin, the control system. His Spirit Eyes' predictive ability and shared vision made him the eyes of the entire team. Su Ran, the food system. Restoring Soul Power and stamina, he was the core of the team's endurance. Ye Qingyu, the support system. Her Echo Wind Zither amplified her teammates' Soul Power resonance, making her the controller of their rhythm. Lu Qing, the power attack system. His Wind Scythe attacked directly and fiercely, and his ability to break through head-on was no worse than Feng Xiaotian's own. Cheng Luo, the control system. With nimble footwork and quick reactions when supporting and roaming, he suited filling gaps on the flanks and linking the chain of control.
Six people, six outlines. Feng Xiaotian committed each to memory.
On the surface, this Soul Hunting expedition was about helping Lu Hanxiao and the other three obtain their second Soul Rings. But Feng Xiaotian knew the real purpose was to assess people. To see each person's style in actual combat, which position suited them, and whom they could coordinate with. These people would eventually form a team capable of changing formations-against opponents skilled in power attacks, they would switch to a defensive, protective formation. Against a loose enemy formation, they would switch to an all-out assault formation. Who would start, who would substitute, and which pairings would produce chemistry-the answers all had to come from today's performances.
Feng Xiaotian said nothing on the spot. Those assessments would have to wait until they returned and pooled their findings with Lingtian's team before being finalized together.
He glanced at the sky. The sun had already sunk below the ridgeline, and the horizon burned dark red. The distant mountains had become layer upon layer of silhouettes, their colors ranging from deep cyan to dark purple, spreading in overlapping tiers to the horizon.
"Let's go. We're heading back."
The seven retraced their route. Behind them, the sunset stretched out seven long shadows. Lu Qing's shadow was the broadest, and Cheng Luo's the thinnest. Jiang Lin's and Lu Hanxiao's shadows walked side by side, one person's width between them. Ye Qingyu's and Su Ran's shadows overlapped, indistinguishable from each other. Feng Xiaotian's shadow led the way, stretched the longest.
Lu Hanxiao's and Lu Qing's shadows fell one ahead of the other, with Cheng Luo between them. Both shadows bore the outlines of the Lu family, the curves of their shoulders very similar.
Feng Xiaotian thought that Lingtian's group should be nearly finished, too.