NOVEL WEB Chapter 363: The Second March
As the last traces of the blood in the air was washed away by the winds, a relative calm settled over the expedition camp. Fires were lit, tents were checked and re-secured, and the smell of cooked rations—mostly dry meat stew and spirit-grain porridge—began to fill the air.
Some part of the camp had been damaged, food spilled, and some tents moved due to the chaos but now things were being fixed
Despite the earlier ambush, the camp had fallen into an uneasy stillness. Senior disciples moved through the ranks like silent shadows, passing down the orders relayed from the Peak Heads. Their voices were subdued, but the authority in their tone left no room for argument.
"All disciples are to rest now and recover," one of the senior core disciples from Sword Peak barked as he passed a cluster of tents. "We depart at dawn. No delays."
"The path ahead is long—at least three more months, maybe longer depending on terrain and what obstacles lie ahead," a Spear Peak senior added. "We cannot afford to fall behind. Other sects and factions are already on the move. If we waste time, the best gains will be taken."
The orders rippled out across the ranks.
Outer court disciples quietly retired into their tents. Inner court disciples checked their equipment and meditated to recover spiritual energy. Core disciples gathered in small clusters, some talking in low tones about the ambush, others looking out toward the darkened horizon in thought.
Yet amidst all this… Han Yu remained still, seated near the edge of his tent's awning, arms resting on his knees, gaze distant.
He wasn't tired. Not really.
But he also didn't feel right.
There was an odd weight to the air. A hum just below the edge of hearing. Not quite noise, not quite silence. It gnawed at him like a splinter embedded deep in his thoughts.
He'd been quiet most of the evening, but eventually, he spoke up.
"…Something feels off."
Fatty Kui, who was halfway through devouring a roasted spirit rabbit leg, blinked and tilted his head.
"Eh? What do you mean 'off'? Did you not eat enough?" he asked, offering a chunk of rabbit meat. "That can really mess with you, you know. My grandma used to say—'an empty stomach leads to an anxious heart!'"
Han Yu didn't respond right away.
It wasn't hunger. It wasn't fatigue. It wasn't even the aftermath of battle.
It was something else—subtle, deep, and gnawing.
Wu Shuan, ever calm and perceptive, glanced up from where he was polishing his sword. "Don't laugh, Kui," he said quietly. "He might be right."
Fatty Kui blinked. "Huh? What do you mean?"
Wu Shuan didn't stop moving the whetstone, but his eyes flicked toward Han Yu. "You weren't there, Kui. You didn't see Han Yu after he fell from that cliff during our first year. We all thought he was dead—but he survived. And again, at the Slumbering Caldera… remember the Hollow Eye Sect ambush?"
Kui rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Yeah… that fall was particularly was bad."
"Bad?" Wu Shuan's voice dropped. "Han Yu had to crawl out of that valley while hiding from beasts and eating who knows what. He's been through things that would kill most of us."
Han Yu said nothing, but his gaze had grown darker, more focused.
"I don't know why," he murmured, "but something's wrong. I just… can't place it. It's like…"
"…Like we've only seen the first layer of something deeper?" Wu Shuan offered.
Han Yu nodded slowly.
"Even if the ambush was expected," he continued, "the way those Dao Shell elders moved… they didn't fight like people confident in winning. They fought like they were following orders—desperate, maybe even unwilling. That worries me."
Fatty Kui's appetite had dulled slightly. He set his rabbit bone aside.
"You think this wasn't the main attack?" he asked.
Han Yu's eyes narrowed. "I think it might not even be the real enemy."
That silenced the group for a while.
The camp flickered in orange and gold as the fires crackled. Somewhere in the distance, a disciple laughed softly—maybe trying to force normalcy back into the night.
But within their small trio, the mood remained somber.
Wu Shuan finally broke the silence.
"…You're not wrong to trust your instincts. They've saved your life before. Maybe they'll save ours too."
Han Yu gave a small nod, his lips set in a tight line.
"I just hope… whatever it is… we see it coming in time."
Dawn broke slowly, dragging golden light across the land like a brush painting warmth upon the cold edges of the world.
The sky was streaked with soft pinks and blues, but the atmosphere among the disciples was far from serene. As the long column of cultivators began their march anew, the mood was somber, quiet, and disciplined. Gone was the light-hearted chatter and youthful excitement that had filled the air when they first left the sect.
They had seen real danger now.
The kind that didn't flinch under numbers, that didn't hesitate to spill blood in silence.
Thousands of disciples moved together in practiced formations, but the energy behind their steps had changed. Before, it was pride. Now, it was tension, tempered by caution. Wariness hung over them like a veil. Eyes stayed sharp, and ears tuned to the slightest disturbance in the surroundings.
The core disciples and inner court disciples were better at masking it.
They had experience, most of them having ventured on multiple high-risk missions before—some in the wilder regions near ancient ruins, others having clashed with minor rogue sects or even fought off beast hordes during the regular tide eruptions.
But even they couldn't deny the weight in the air now.
Because this wasn't like before.
They were now in the wild frontier, beyond the reach of their sect's influence and territory, where even Peak Heads could not instantly shield everyone.
As for the outer court disciples, the difference was stark. Many of them were still young, barely a few years into their cultivation journey. Even the oldest among them had, at most, thirty years under their belt—and those veterans had spent most of that time training and cultivating in the sect, not wading through blood and chaos like Han Yu had.