Ash and Honey [BL]

"Princess, get up, get up! Your turn next!" Shesui Lang gave a few claps before he chased away Zhi Lao. "Zhi Shidi, you get outta here and rest up. You look like shit." His tone had changed to a whisper, but it was still loud enough for all the remaining cultivators to hear.

Zhi Lao was pale. Even after he wiped his face, it was coated in a second layer of sweat in an instant. "I just want this done."

Reluctantly, Fu Ran pulled himself to a stand. Master He sat collapsed on the boxes of supplies and was still panting pretty heavily. Zhi Lao too appeared exhausted. In the center of the camp, another array had been made, perfectly crafted with the destination being An Xian Yun Peak.

He was ushered over with a simple wave of his martial brother's hand. Truthfully, Fu Ran was a bit too tired for this. Calamity Recall had emotionally drained him for a few hours and took up a large amount of spiritual energy. This is why he never used it too often.

He only used it when he got a bad feeling. Most often it was during large-scale missions, or when he woke up to two dozen blackbirds outside his window in the morning, or if Zhi Lao left his chopsticks a touch too upright in his rice bowl, or when he knocked over his inkwell onto his important documents, or when he caught Shesui Lang smiling at him unprompted. Well, it's not like I use it for everything... only... only for bad omens, he rationalized.

He placed his hands on the teleportation array, trying to calm his breathing despite the thin demonic air. From the dreams of a tyrant emperor to an irrational entrance exam, to more visions of demise: He couldn't think. 

There were no excess resources in his mind. So he didn't register the sound of metal slicing through the air.

Fu Ran wearily blinked. 

A blade. Thin, gleaming metal, glistened red. The tip jutted between his palms, sinking into the array before him, and his fingers hovered, trembling. 

He blinked again. 

Blood pooled in the dirt beneath him. A slow, steady drip. It clung to the steel, thick and dark.

Blood? 

The sickness had returned. 

Blood? Whose blood?

A wave of nausea caused him to gag. Fu Ran's first thought was to inspect the weapon, to lift his hands from the teleportation array and touch it. The only problem with the blade... was that it appeared to have pierced right through his back.

Oh. Shit. His breathing hitched, his eyes widened in horror. He swallowed at the realization. This blood… is mine...

Master He was the first to react. His slender, feminine form lept to the ground with blade in hand and a roar of thunderous demands poured from his throat. "We are being attacked!" He yelled. "Call the others back to camp!" Master He's words commanded.

Shesui Lang lunged to a stand with his sword, Heng Shui Long. He effortlessly blocked another incoming blade and sent it plummeting to the ground. A veil of rapids followed the renowned water dragon blade, making the air around the teleportation array feel hot and humid.

"Wh... at?" Fu Ran couldn't process it. The pain was starting to settle in. A stab through the gut, almost like a sharp searing heat. Even when he tried to pull away, it was like he was an insect pinned in place. His mind was heading into turbulence somehow. "No, no, no," was the only thing repeating in his brain.

CRACK. The sky screamed, yanking up the heads of scattered cultivators.

It started with a single fissure. Then, with a cacophony of ear piercing shattering, it spread. A large crack in the shape of a dome covered the expanse of the entire training grounds. 

"A barrier? Who the hell put that up?" Shesui Lang spoke in disbelief mixed with disdain.

Once that crack started to crumble, a nauseating feeling hit Fu Ran. It was more suffocating than the thinly veiled air before. The atmosphere grew hot and heavy, a taste of corruption lapping at his skin. This is what the demonic realm felt like. 

The result of today's events, if they were anything like Fu Ran's vision, were unforgiving, all consuming, suffocating, and deadly. An ambush attack on the scattered Peak Masters of An Xian Yun Peak.

"Grit your teeth, boy." Master He grabbed the back of Fu Ran's robes and the handle of the blade. With one hand he held Fu Ran in place, and with the other he swiftly and haphazardly tore the stray sword from his stomach.

A scream tore through Fu Ran's chest and raked at his throat. His strength left his fingertips, and his arms gave out, sending his cheek into a violent collision with the ground.

"Fu Ran, go protect the disciples," Feng Meiying tossed her jade mirror into his hands with that order. 

He was given very little time to think, because the minute he opened his mouth to ask questions, a Fall Corpse dropped to the ground in front of Feng Meiying. She was much more equipped to handle a battle of high caliber then he was.

When Fu Ran looked at Shesui Lang and Zhi Lao, more Fall Corpses had landed directly in their reach. "Why are there so many?" he rasped.

"Boy, get going!" Master He demanded. This was the final push that he needed. He was on his feet in an instant, and he ran. His breathing fell in tandem with his messy footsteps and he didn't look back.

"The children, the children," he muttered.

His finger came in contact with the surface of the jade mirror, and he offered his spiritual energy. In a bright light, it showed a picture.

The one who came to his mind most was Wan Yu. He didn't know any of the other disciples from this year, so it was understandable that he couldn't picture them first. He only had to think of the small boy, and a view of his back came into sight.

Wait just a minute… He had one passing thought. Could that have really been true? It was strange, but last time he uttered the boy's name before the mirror, it looked like he responded.

Fu Ran swallowed. He only needed a single answer, so he whispered, "A-Wan? Can you really hear me? Please look at me."

The hill was unsteady beneath his feet, but he could clearly see the woods further below. He could only imagine how grand this forest would have been before it was corrupted by demonic qi.

The trees now were empty, their branches crossed over one another sickly, creating a wall of dead brush. Even without the leaves, it was impossible to see past them. He waited quietly and with baited breath. 

"...Shizun?" Wan Yu answered.

"Oh, thank the heavens!" The sides of Fu Ran's face curled up into a smile. "You can really hear me? Truly?"

Wan Yu nodded against the mirror's shining surface. "What is it? Is there a problem?" Even the way the boy asked, it was less like a question and more like he was trying to gauge Fu Ran's response.

"Yes, there is. Quite a big one, actually… A-Wan, this is an emergency, and you're going to have to listen to me, okay? Things are going to get a bit scary—"

The next time he opened his mouth, Fu Ran stopped himself. He was about to start speaking to Wan Yu as if he were just a child, talentless with the blade, but his dream lingered in the back of his mind. It had already proven that Wan Yu had more skill than he was willing to let on.

Fu Ran changed his tone. "I understand that you know how to wield a blade. But you are to meet up with me right this instant. This is no longer about the hunt."

Perhaps his tone came off a bit harsh, but the boy barely reacted at all. His expression was nearly unreadable on the glass surface. Wan Yu paused for only a moment before responding with a soft, "Understood."

"Good, good. Head towards the entrance of the forest as if you're going back to camp. I'm coming to get you as soon as I find the rest of the students…"

With that, he swiped the picture away, and the mirror revealed his own face instead.

The path had grown narrow once the trees started popping up where he wanted to run. The ground was full of curling roots and rocks that shot up tall, some as high as his knees.

As it was in the rest of the demon realm, everything, except for sparse patches of bright red flowers and grass, was desaturated and muted. Over the entirety of the atmosphere was a red hue and a deep haze that made traversing difficult.

He should have heard something by now. The combined voices of disciples could easily fill this forest, and there should have been at least one or two in every major location checked. Yet he heard nothing at all.

What was this tension in his chest? It was like his dream was still hiding something from him even now.

Where were the Peak Masters? Where was everybody?