Weaves of Ashes

Chapter 77: Chapter 72: The Foolish Decision

Location: Dark Forest - Mid Ring | Doha (Lower Realm)

Time: Day 460, Morning

The quakeboar’s massive head hit the ground with a wet thud, steam rising from the charred wound across its throat. Jayde stood over it, breathing hard but grinning, Ember Step still crackling faintly around her legs.

(Ten. That’s ten Inferno-tempered beasts in twelve days.)

Impressive efficiency, Jayde acknowledged. Power surge from the breakthrough providing a significant tactical advantage.

She’d been nearly killed by this exact beast—or one just like it—back on Day 445. Back then, it’d nearly ended her. Forced her to burn an Escape Talisman just to survive. Now? Twenty minutes of careful setup, three Flame Torrents, and one perfectly timed Ember Step to close the distance for the kill.

(We’re actually strong now. Really strong.)

The quakeboar had been mid Inferno-tempered. A full tier above her cultivation level. And she’d taken it down without a scratch.

Jayde crouched beside the massive corpse, pulling out her hunting knife to harvest what she could. The hide would fetch good Merits. So would the tusks. The Crucible Core... well, beast cores at this level were worth serious points.

Her hands moved efficiently through the butchering process, muscle memory from White’s brutal training combining with the Federation’s tactical precision. Blood soaked into the forest floor, hot and thick, but she barely noticed anymore.

(Twelve days since the breakthrough. Twelve days, and everything’s different.)

The Inferno essence in her Crucible Core hummed with power—15,475 Qi, where she’d once struggled with barely 2,000. New techniques that would’ve been impossible before now felt natural. Flame Torrent swept through enemies like a forest fire. Ember Step moved her so fast that most beasts couldn’t even track her.

Confidence is valuable, the inner voice noted. Overconfidence is fatal.

(Oh, stop worrying. We’re being careful.)

She finished harvesting, storing everything in her spatial ring, then pulled out the Old Man’s journal. The worn leather felt familiar in her hands now—she’d read these pages dozens of times over the past months.

”Mid ring expansion,” she read aloud, flipping to the relevant section. ”Deeper penetration requires extreme caution. Beasts at Blazecrowned tier begin appearing past the second marker grove. Shadowbeast prides have been observed—”

”Jayde.” Isha’s voice crackled through the communication artifact. ”Your vitals are elevated. You okay?”

”Fine. Just finished another hunt.” She couldn’t keep the pride out of her voice.

”Another? That’s your third this morning.”

”Feels good to actually be strong, you know?”

A pause. ”Be careful. Power can make you reckless.”

(He worries too much.)

He’s seen countless contractors die from overconfidence, Jayde countered. His concern is statistically justified.

”I’m being careful,” Jayde said, though even she could hear how dismissive it sounded. ”I’ll check in later.”

She closed the connection before Isha could lecture her further.

The forest around her was beautiful in the morning light—shafts of golden sun breaking through the canopy, illuminating the mist that clung to the undergrowth. The outer ring had been nice enough, but here in the mid ring proper, everything felt more... alive. More real.

(We should go deeper.)

Negative. Recommend maintaining current operational parameters.

(But we’re doing so well! Ten Inferno-tempered beasts, including that quakeboar. We’re ready for more.)

Jayde went quiet for a moment—unusual. When she spoke again, the tone was measured. The quakeboar nearly killed us two weeks ago. Our power has increased, yes. But so has your willingness to take risks.

(That’s called confidence, not recklessness.)

There’s a fine line between the two.

Jayde stood, brushing blood off her armor. The enhanced combat gear she’d bought back on Day 430 had proven its worth—barely scratched despite constant combat. Her Runeinfused blade gleamed in her hand, still humming faintly with Inferno essence.

She looked deeper into the forest, where the trees grew denser and the shadows darker.

The Old Man’s journal had warned about going too far. Isha had just told her to be careful. Her Federation training—was urging caution.

(But we’re strong now. We can handle it.)

The thought felt warm in her chest, like Inferno essence itself. Twelve days of victories. Twelve days of proving she wasn’t that helpless, voidforge child anymore. She was Inferno-tempered. Oracle 1st Class. A real cultivator.

(Let’s see what’s really out there.)

This could be a mistake.

(You always say that. Remember the quakeboar? You said engaging was a mistake. And look—we just killed one.)

The previous encounter nearly resulted in termination. Success this time doesn’t guarantee—

(Please, just a look.)

Jayde hesitated briefly.

”We’re going,” Jayde said aloud. ”Just a little deeper. Just to see.”

She checked her equipment one more time. Five Qi Restoration Pills. Two doses of Crimsonclot Powder. Armor at full integrity. Blade charged. Two Escape Talismans left.

(Plenty of safety margin.)

Safety margin means nothing if you don’t use it.

But Jayde was already moving, Ember Step carrying her deeper into the mid ring with explosive bursts of speed.

***

An hour later, she realized she’d made a terrible mistake.

The forest had changed. Gradually at first—trees slightly larger, undergrowth slightly thicker—but now the difference was unmistakable. The canopy overhead blocked out most of the sunlight, leaving everything in perpetual twilight. The air felt heavier here, laden with essence so dense it made her lungs work harder with each breath.

Ancient trees surrounded her, their bark twisted into patterns that almost looked like faces. Like they were watching her.

(Okay. This is definitely different.)

Essence density approximately 300% higher than the outer ring baseline, Jayde reported, clinical despite the danger. Atmospheric pressure elevated. Local flora suggests a mature ecosystem with apex predators.

”In other words,” Jayde muttered, ”I’m way over my head.”

(We should go back.)

Affirmative. Immediate tactical withdrawal recommended.

She turned, orienting herself toward the way she’d come—and froze.

The forest behind her looked... wrong. The path she’d taken had vanished, swallowed by undergrowth that shouldn’t have grown so fast. The trees seemed closer together than before.

(Did I... did I get turned around?)

Spatial disorientation is possible. High-essence environments can affect perception.

A low growl rumbled through the shadows to her left.

Jayde spun, blade up, Inferno essence flaring in her Crucible Core. Her Heat Sense activated automatically, painting the world in thermal signatures.

What she saw made her blood turn cold.

Five shapes. Large. Moving with predatory grace through the darkness. Each one blazing hot in her essence sight—far hotter than anything she’d faced before.

Shadowbeasts.

(Oh gods.)

They emerged from the gloom like living nightmares. Seven feet tall at the shoulder, obsidian fur rippling with wisps of shadow essence, tattered wings folded against their backs. Silver eyes gleamed in the darkness, reflecting what little light penetrated the canopy.

And they were all staring at her.

Threat assessment, Jayde said, and despite the situation, Jayde heard something she’d never heard before in that tactical tone: concern. Five hostiles. Species: shadowbeast. Cultivation tier: minimum Inferno-tempered. Alpha signature suggests Blazecrowned tier.

(Blazecrowned? That’s... that’s two full tiers above me.)

Affirmative. Survival probability in direct engagement: less than 5%.

The alpha stepped forward—larger than the others, scars visible even through its dark fur, wings fuller despite the tatters. Its silver eyes fixed on her with an intelligence that made her skin crawl.

(They’re not attacking.)

Predator behavior. Assessing threat level before engagement.

One of the smaller shadowbeasts—though ”smaller” was relative when it still towered over her—sniffed the air. Its lips pulled back, revealing fangs the length of her forearm.

Then the alpha made a sound. Not quite a growl, not quite a purr. More like... laughter?

(Oh no. Oh gods, no.)

They’re hunting for sport, Jayde confirmed. We’re prey. Entertainment.

”Run,” Jayde whispered. Then louder: ”RUN!”1

She spun and bolted, Ember Step igniting with a burst of Inferno essence that launched her forward. Trees blurred past. Branches whipped at her face. Her lungs burned as she pushed her Qi to the limit, each activation of Ember Step draining 30 points from her pool.

Behind her, the shadowbeasts gave chase.

But they weren’t trying hard.

She could hear them—paws hitting the ground with deceptive softness, wings rustling as they weaved between trees. They could catch her easily. She knew it. They knew it.

They were playing.

(This isn’t fair! This isn’t—)

Combat is never fair, Jayde’s voice cut in. Look for terrain advantage. Find obstacles. Force them to engage on our terms.

”There are no terms!” Jayde gasped, vaulting over a fallen log. ”They’re toying with us!”

Another Ember Step. Another 30 Qi gone. She’d burned through nearly 300 points already just running, and she wasn’t even sure she was heading in the right direction anymore.

The forest grew denser. Darker. More primal.

A shadowbeast appeared on her left—seemingly from nowhere—and she barely dodged. Its claws carved through the space where her head had been, leaving deep gouges in an ancient tree trunk.

(Too fast. They’re too fast.)

They’re herding us.

The realization hit like a physical blow. They weren’t just chasing her for fun. They were driving her somewhere. Steering her deeper into their territory, away from any chance of escape.

Jayde changed direction sharply, Ember Step carrying her right—

—and nearly collided with another shadowbeast.

She twisted midair, blade flashing out in desperation. The attack connected, her Runeinfused weapon scoring a shallow cut across the beast’s shoulder.

It didn’t even slow down.

(We’re going to die.)

Not yet. Keep moving.

But she could feel her Qi depleting. Smell the exhaustion in her own sweat. Her enhanced endurance was the only thing keeping her on her feet, but even that had limits.

A massive paw swiped at her from the right. She ducked—too slow—and claws raked across her armor. The Runeinfused protection held, but the impact sent her tumbling through the undergrowth.

She rolled to her feet, gasping, blade up—

—and crashed through a wall of dense foliage into a clearing.

The change was sudden. Oppressive forest to open space in a single step. Golden sunlight streamed down, almost blinding after the darkness of the deep forest.

And in the center of the clearing lay a shadowbeast.

But this one wasn’t hunting.

It was dying.

(No. Oh no.)

The beast was massive—easily over ten feet at the shoulder, fur the deepest black Jayde had ever seen. Its wings were broken, twisted at impossible angles, silver eyes dimmed with pain. Blood pooled beneath it, soaking into the moss and wildflowers.

Beautiful. Even dying, it was beautiful.

The shadowbeast’s head lifted as Jayde stumbled into the clearing. Those silver eyes fixed on her—not with hunger, but with something else. Something almost human.

[Please,] a voice whispered in her mind. Female. Exhausted. [Don’t run.]

(Another one?)

Behind Jayde, the forest exploded with sound. The pride—the five shadowbeasts—crashing through the undergrowth. Coming for her.

Coming for their prey.

Trapped. No exit. Prepare for final engagement.

Jayde’s hand tightened on her blade. Her Qi pool was down to 12,000. Maybe enough for a few more Ember Steps. Maybe enough to take one or two of them with her before—

[Hide,] the dying shadowbeast said, and despite the pain in that mental voice, there was command. Authority. [Under my wing. Quickly.]

(What?)

The pride burst into the clearing. Five predators, silver eyes gleaming, moving with perfect coordination toward their cornered prey.

And the wounded shadowbeast—this beautiful, broken creature—lifted one massive wing.

[Trust me,] it whispered. [Hurry.]

Behind Jayde, claws hit the ground. The alpha’s growl rumbled through the clearing, promising violence.

She had maybe three seconds to decide.

(Do we—?)

Statistically, cooperation with an unknown entity offers better survival probability than continued flight.

Jayde dove under the shadowbeast’s wing.

The massive appendage—broken, bleeding, but still large enough to cover her completely—folded down. The world went dark. She could feel the beast’s labored breathing, smell blood, and something else. Something wild and feral and entirely inhuman.

Through the gap where wing met body, she watched the pride approach.

The alpha stopped at the edge of the clearing. Its silver eyes fixed on the wounded shadowbeast with something that looked like... contempt? Satisfaction?

It made that laughing sound again.

Then, slowly, deliberately, it turned and led the pride back into the forest.

Jayde waited, barely breathing, until the sounds of their departure faded completely.

The wing lifted. Sunlight returned.

She looked up at the shadowbeast that had saved her—this massive, dying creature with silver eyes that held too much intelligence—and for the first time since her breakthrough, felt truly small.

”Thank you,” Jayde whispered.

[Don’t thank me yet, little one,] the shadowbeast replied, and despite everything, there was warmth in that mental voice. [We need to talk. And I don’t have much time left.]

Now that Jade/Jayde soul is integrating. Sometimes she might sound like Jade. So this Jayde shouting RUN now, is right - just in case you are wondering. Sometimes Jade’s emotions will bleed through.