Yu Rael's chest expanded and contracted as she regulated her breathing, the adrenaline still raging from the fight still pumping through her blood. The Corpse Spirit Flower was securely stashed in her storage ring, its unsettling energy vibrating like a faraway heartbeat along her skin.
The man stood, three steps off, his cloak in shreds, face smeared with sweat and blood. But despite all the ferocity of that just-passed repartee, his face was infuriatingly unreactionary, as if the real fight had been nothing more than a non meaningful, offhand spar.
Yu Rael swallowed down her annoyance. This man…
"You're not from around here," she said to him, voice curt. "A nobody showing up in a secret world, wielding power that even I don't know the whole of. Who in the blazes are you?"
His lips curled up slightly, a half-smile without enthusiasm. "Vaen," he said. "And you?"
Yu Rael hesitated. Though she wanted to snap, she made herself stay calm. "Yu Rael," she said, pushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Leader of the Dune Reavers."
Vaen's eyes were as sharp as a knife. "And a woman." he said.
Yu Rael stood at attention. Her blood went cold. How did he—?
Vaen's half-lidded eyes followed the infinitesimal change on her face. "You forgot to employ your concealment magic," he declared lazily. "The vehemence of the battle must have shaken you."
Hell. Yu Rael ground her teeth, her fingers tightening into fists. How did she manage to do that? It had been years since she'd been so careless.
"Stand still," she growled.
She shut her eyes, the soft sheen of Qi rippling around her as she wove her disguise anew. Her features relaxed, the fine curve of her cheekbones sharpening, the little jawline clicking to sharpness. Virtually instantly, the burning, womanly aura of Yu Rael was replaced by the hard-worn, leathery aspect of a taciturn, leather-clad mercenary. A man of few words, clad in desert armor with a faint scent of sand and blood.
When she opened her eyes again, her gaze met Vaen's. He was still watching her with that same detached calm, as if he had already seen through every layer of her facade.
"Better?" she asked, voice now gruffer, deeper.
Vaen shrugged. "You'll fool most of them. But not me."
Yu Rael gritted her teeth. How was this man so perceptive? Was it a bloodline ability? Some obscure technique? Or something more dangerous?
As she could question further, a rumble sounded from the ancient ruins. The ground shook, debris crashing from the broken arches above. The light from the mist grew fainter, as if the whole world was closing in on them.
"Time's running out," Yu Rael said. "We have to get out of here."
Vaen's forehead furrowed. "How?"
Yu Rael parted her lips to speak when footsteps sounded coming out of the mist. Two figures appeared out of the fog — both hooded, their visages hidden. But their chest insignias shone through the mist: the burning sun of the Ironfeather Clan and the writhing serpent of the Blackscale Sect.
"Well, well," the Ironfeather cultivator said, his voice like gravel grinding against stone. "Looks like we've found some survivors."
The Blackscale Sect's cultivator's eyes fixed on Yu Rael, then slid over to Vaen. "You two look like you're in rough shape. Must've had a good haul. Mind sharing?"
Yu Rael's jaw clenched. Damn it. Of course, they had to run into these bastards now.
The Ironfeather Clan's cultivator's fists tightened. "Or how about this," he said, unsheathing a pair of serrated blades, "why don't we take it?"
Yu Rael's hand fell to her dagger, her eyes flashing under her hood. The Corpse Spirit Flower throbbed dimly in her ring, a warning of the treasure she could not afford to lose. At her side, Vaen's hand drifted toward his sword, the dark blade shining like the threat of a storm.
Yu Rael looked at Vaen, her jaw clenched. "Seems that exit will have to wait."
Vaen's lips curled into a smile. "Fine by me."
The two hooded men advanced, their intent to kill evident.
And the battle started.