As they moved through slipspace, Tian Li worked her disciple token, the glowing map hovering above it. The spiderlings didn't appear on it, but the disciples' frantic movements gave enough clues—where they fled marked the danger zones.

"The exits are all blocked," she said grimly after a moment.

"Is there anywhere safe?" Shuang asked.

She zoomed the map outward, revealing the entire forest. "Hmm… maybe here." She pointed to a vast lake in the center. "The Deep Root Lake."

"What's wrong with that?"

"The lake is home to treants. They aren't hostile, but they don't welcome visitors either."

"Treants… like living trees?"

"Yes."

"Demonic beasts or spirit beasts?"

"Neither. They're wood spirits."

Shuang thought aloud. "Elemental spirits are usually peaceful unless provoked. If we bring the spiderlings there, the treants might drive them off—or attack all of us. Still… it's the only real option."

"I agree," Biyu said, "but we won't reach it in under an hour."

"We'll just have to make do."

"Then I'll send out an emergency call." Tian Li's expression hardened. She activated another formation and spoke into her token.

"This is Tian Li. Demonic wood spiderlings have escaped into the forest. Retreat to Deep Root Lake—it is our only chance!"

On the map, the white blips wavered, then shifted, all converging toward the forest's center.

Shuang's jaw tightened when two more blips winked out. He exhaled sharply, withdrawing his soul from control, letting Jin Shu return to the surface.

"Do better next time," Gold said flatly.

"I will," Shuang answered.

Jin Shu frowned. "So… that martial arts master thing—dodging like you were untouchable—and those elemental attacks. What the hell was that?"

"I've been working on integrating Earth's combat systems into qi techniques," Shuang explained. "Recently, I layered elemental energies on top. What you saw was the result. It's incomplete, but if we combine it with the cultivation method Nano created… it should break new ground."

"You hid it well. I never saw even a flicker of that in your memories," Jin Shu admitted.

Shuang shrugged. "I wasn't trying to hide it. I just wanted it solid before sharing."

"It's fine, I'm not blaming you. Just surprised you managed to keep it to yourself, even with our shared minds."

"If you practice, it's not hard to partition thoughts," Shuang said with a faint smile.

"Maybe I'll try later. Right now, survival comes first. And… our hour's up."

Jin Shu turned toward the others. "Time's up, girls." He tore open an exit portal.

"But it's only been forty-five minutes," Biyu countered.

"Exactly. I'm leaving fifteen minutes in reserve—in case things get worse."

He felt Biyu's hand tremble against his shoulder. She was afraid of the spiders—he knew that much. But there was nothing he could do for her right now. At least she was holding up better than Li Xue, who still lay unconscious across his back like a rag doll.

As soon as they exited slipspace, Biyu and Tian Li released him, and he carefully set Li Xue down. He bent to check her condition—her breathing was steady, her lips curved in a faint, mischievous smirk as if she were enjoying a pleasant dream.

"Could you try healing her?" he asked.

Biyu nodded and pressed her hands gently against Li Xue's temples. A few moments later, the girl stirred, blinking blearily.

"Mm… morning already? But I didn't get enough sleep…" she mumbled.

"We don't have time. Get up and run, or the spiders will catch us," Jin Shu urged, already straining to hear the faint skitter skitter of legs on dead leaves.

Li Xue's eyes widened. She darted frantic glances around the clearing, then patted her chest with a shaky sigh when she didn't see any arachnids in sight.

"Let's go!" she shouted, scrambling to her feet and sprinting blindly in one direction.

"Wrong way!" Biyu snapped. "That's toward the spiders!"

"Eek!" Li Xue squealed, spinning on her heel and bolting in the opposite direction.

She zipped past them, waving her arms wildly. "What are you all waiting for?"

Jin Shu pinched the bridge of his nose, then rolled his eyes and jogged after her.

Half an hour blurred past as they tore through the forest, somehow—miraculously—keeping ahead of the endless swarm of spiderlings. Only a final quarter-mile stretch remained before the rendezvous point at Deep Root Lake.

Jin Shu stole a glance at Tian Li's map. The other disciples were already there, clustered just outside the lake's edge, waiting.

Raised voices reached his ears as they neared—sharpened with accusation, quick with heat. Definitely an argument.

Then, the forest spat them out into a wide clearing… and they froze.

Dozens of female disciples stood in a loose semicircle, and beyond them loomed nearly twice as many hulking treants—creatures of bark and branch, each in a different twisted shape. The moment Jin Shu and his group stumbled into view, the arguing cut off.

Every gaze turned on them. Even the treants' wooden faces creaked and twitched in a parody of confusion.

Jin Shu didn't understand why—until he looked down at himself… then at the others.

Right. To them, this wasn't three women in bikinis and him stripped to the waist with two children in tow. No one here had ever seen a bikini. To these disciples, they were just… naked. Or close to it.

Whispers ignited like wildfire.

"Why are they… undressed?"

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. "Their hair's wet. Were they bathing when the spiders attacked?"

Jin Shu's brow twitched, his patience tested to its limit as the "whispers" grew louder and bolder.

The gossip choked off only when the ground began to thunder.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

The gathered treants shifted aside, and from the treeline emerged a colossal figure.

It was a tree—if a tree could walk like a man. Its legs were titanic roots twisted into shape, its arms enormous branches that ended in clawed hands of splintered bark. Its head rose higher than Jin Shu could crane his neck, crowned in a tangle of leaves and boughs.

The air shook as its voice rumbled, every syllable vibrating through the earth until the whole clearing quivered in a miniature earthquake:

"Intruders. Begone!"

A heavy silence hung over the clearing—broken only when the disciples' arguing flared up again. While their attention was scattered, Jin Shu quietly slipped their robes and storage pouches to the women, dressing himself in fresh robes. By the time they finished, the shouting had reached a fever pitch.

The massive treant's voice thundered again, shaking bark and bone alike:

"Leave now. Or be destroyed."

Jin Shu pushed through the crowd with the others, raising his voice—only for Bing Hou to beat him to it.

"Wait!" Bing's shout cut sharp over the din. "If we leave, the swarm will overrun us… and then they'll come for you next!"

A smaller treant snapped, bark grinding in disdain. "Is that a threat, human?"

"No," she replied evenly, chin raised. "It's a fact."

"Hmph! We need no human protection!" Another bellowed. "Now begone!"

The ground split open. Roots and vines whipped upward, lashing into the front ranks of disciples.

"Ahhh!"

Biyu cried out—caught off guard. A vine slashed across her arm, tearing flesh and snapping bone. Blood splattered across the earth, dying the grass bright red—only for her body to begin knitting itself back together with unnatural speed.

Gasps rippled. Then—

"Huh? Life energy?" A woman's voice rang from above, airy and resonant, like wind through branches.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Tremors shook the ground. One by one, every treant in the clearing sank to its knees, bowing low. Their gazes fixed upward, toward the crown of the colossal ancient treant.

Branches parted.

A figure stepped forward.

For a heartbeat, Jin Shu thought she was human—a woman with similar elegant green hair like Biyu's. But then his eyes caught the details: hair that was no hair at all, but green vines streaked with crimson leaves; skin wrapped in a flowing dress of autumn foliage, each leaf alive, swaying as though in a breeze that did not exist.

"Dryad…!" someone breathed, and awe swept the disciples like a tide.

The woman vanished—only to reappear atop the crown of a nearer treant. Her gaze fell on Biyu, on the wound already sealing with raw vitality.

"Child," the dryad whispered, her voice both beautiful and uncanny, "how is it you carry such pure life energy?"

Biyu faltered, lips parting without words.

The dryad drifted forward, feet gliding above grass that did not bend beneath her. She reached out—only for Jin Shu to step in, shielding Biyu.

Roots and vines shot up, a living wall that shoved him back, barring his path. The dryad's attention never wavered.

"May I?" she asked softly, hand still outstretched—seeking Biyu's permission.

Hesitant, Biyu nodded.

The dryad's fingers clasped her hand, and her expression lit up with wonder.

"Such robust vitality! You are a forest incarnate." Her voice trembled with delight. "Please… come with me, child."

She gestured toward the distant lake.

"What about my friends?" Biyu asked.

At last, the dryad's eyes flicked away. A single wave of her hand dismissed the barrier, her command rippling like wind through leaves.

"Let them in."

The treants stirred in protest. "But, queen—!" the ancient one began.

A single glance silenced him. Even the giant looked meek before her.

"There are enemies coming. They will serve in our defense," she said, voice cool. "Besides… the ceremony must not be delayed."

"Ceremony?" Jin Shu pressed, but her gaze slid past him as if he did not exist.

Only when Biyu echoed the question did the dryad smile.

"What do you mean, ceremony?"

"You and I will undergo a bonding ceremony," she said gently. "I shall become your guardian spirit. You will grant me your unending life energy in return."

Biyu's brow furrowed. "And if I don't want to?"

"Why would you not?" The dryad tilted her head in genuine confusion. "It is the only path for you to live."

Biyu tensed. "What does bonding with you have to do with surviving the spider swarm?"

The dryad blinked at her—bemused, almost pitying.

"What? Do you not know?"

"Know what?"

Her leafy crown shifted as she leaned close, whispering with the rustle of autumn leaves:

"You are dying."