After yet another frantic dash through imperial territory, Master Ienaga had finally given the all-clear for the group to take a break and set up camp under the cover of a particularly dense forest. Those mad dashes were getting to be something of a habit—though Eui had to admit that this one was definitely their own fault.

Now that they had a bit of time to relax, they needed to figure out what their next steps would be. The disaster at Lushan had probably changed things significantly. Normally, Eui would happily let Jia do the talking, but since she was currently embroiled in an intense philosophical debate with Pan Jiaying, Eui was on her own for the moment.

She snickered. It was actually unbearably cute how much those two bickered when they were so similar. Their arguments were sure to give Eui fodder to tease Jia for a long time. Of course, Pan Jiaying’s disdain extended to Eui as well, but she didn’t mind it. The girl was cute, but Eui was happy with Jia, and wasn’t about to go out of her way to correct any misconceptions. Also, being the subject of one-sided animosity could be very fun.

Then there was Luo Mingyu, sulking at the edge of the camp. But she’d have plenty of time to get to know the new recruits later. Right now, Eui needed to talk to her mentor. Predictably, she found Master Ienaga near Jung’s litter. Jia’s big sister had been spending a worrying amount of time sleeping lately—her body doing everything it could to fight off the spread of corruption.

Ienaga could almost always be found within arms reach of Jung. She said it was to keep an eye on Narae while she trained, but Eui wasn’t fooled. Naturally, she had to admit her own bias, but she felt that it was rather telling that Ienaga Yumi had never rebuffed Lee Jung’s relentless flirting. She hadn’t responded to it, either—but if it made her uncomfortable, then why spend so much time together?

That wasn’t what she needed to talk to Master Ienaga about, though—and she doubted her mentor would ever welcome such a discussion. Instead, after quickly checking on Lee Jung’s condition, she sidled up to her master and asked the question that had been plaguing her all day.

“Did you know we were going to fuck that up?”

Ienaga Yumi glanced down at Eui before returning her attention to Narae—who was busy flying in prescribed patterns that involved a lot of difficult twists and turns.

“No. I wouldn’t have allowed it if I thought the only outcome would be alerting a sect for nothing.”

“But you expected us to fuck it up.”

“...yes.”

Eui took a moment to fume silently. It had always been the academy’s policy to give the students enough rope to hang themselves with, and let them learn from their mistakes. Apparently, Master Ienaga embraced that teaching style wholeheartedly.

“Why didn’t you warn us?”

“What would have changed? I know you, An. You and Lee have never heeded any warning. If anything, it only spurs you on to charge even more recklessly into danger. I made my disapproval clear, but you never hesitated.”

She didn’t have a comeback for that, but Eui didn’t like the idea of stubbornly repeating the same mistakes over and over. She’d been thinking about responsibility a lot lately—between her avatar, her failure to maintain Lee Jung’s health, and her gruesome past, Eui was growing increasingly worried about leaving an endless trail of bodies as her legacy. She rubbed idly at the brand on her forehead—a constant reminder of her past mistakes.

“What did we do wrong?”

Ienaga looked back at Eui, her eyes widening in surprise for just an instant before returning to her usual stoic facade.

“Hmm. You really are maturing. That’s a wise question, although a bit misplaced. Your first mistake goes back further than I think you realize, but it all comes down to a single fundamental flaw. Tell me, among your decisions—taking Miss Lee Jung’s health into your own hands, departing on this expedition immediately, bringing mortals and children with you into hostile territory, attempting to infiltrate an enemy sect—what is the common thread?”

Eui wrinkled her nose. She never got used to how much even her most down-to-earth teachers liked to talk in weird riddles. Why couldn’t they just answer a fucking question?

“I dunno. They were rushed? Reckless?”

“Overconfident, An. Your greatest error—and that of Lee, is overconfidence. It’s not uncommon among cultivators—in fact, in my experience it’s often what leads to their downfall. You overestimate your abilities, and you underestimate your enemies. You’re young, for the power you wield—too young. You need to learn these lessons now, before they get you killed later.”

Eui bit her lip, trying to suppress her pride. Master Ienaga was right.

“Setting aside the more...fundamental errors. What could we have done better?”

Ienaga smiled.

“I think you actually comported yourselves quite well, in terms of execution. You kept yourselves at a safe distance, worked through proxies, and were prepared to fall back at a moment’s notice. Your principal mistake was the assumption that you would be able to compete in any meaningful way against a xiantian cultivator—including sensing their approach.”

Eui crossed her arms.

“We have faced xiantians before. The fire elemental back on the Forbidden Peak, sensing Elder Qin’s domain when he was spying on us, we even fought a magma elemental to a standstill back in Goryeo.”

“I understand where your confidence comes from—your feats are unquestionably impressive. But you have to understand, An, that you have limits. Elder Qin treated every moment as a teaching opportunity, you would never have sensed him if he truly wished to be hidden. Similarly, the magma elemental was a test, from what I’ve heard—though I can’t speak decisively on that. Most recently, there was Lee’s altercation with Seong Misun. I heard about it directly from the princess—that was truly stupid of you both.”

“I thought we held our own...”

Ienaga turned and crossed her arms, towering over Eui in a way that had nothing to do with height.

“No. You have never seen Seong Misun at her full potential. You have never seen any xiantian cultivator at their full potential. If you had, you would be more suitably terrified. An, it pains me to do this, but I need to put something in perspective for you.”

Eui took a half step back, sweating nervously, but Ienaga just chuckled.

“Not that kind of perspective—the pain is...a matter of pride. I’ve lived over a hundred years, An, and survived countless battles with xiantian cultivators. But I am weak. Seong Misun is stronger than me by far, despite her youth. The demons I fought at the academy were stronger. I doubt that I would fare much better than the magma elemental you and your friends faced, were I in its place.”

“But—”

“Just listen. I have killed dozens of powerful cultivators. Perhaps over a hundred—I haven’t kept count. Each and every one was more powerful than me. I’ve grown over the last century but...slowly. Painfully slowly. In truth, my greatest weapon is neither my blade nor my techniques—it’s the overconfidence of my enemies.

“Qiao Quan discovered you quite quickly, I expect, but he was a cautious man. He allowed you to come and go without acting personally. Watching and waiting. You should have known better than to think that you would be able to sense his gaze. When he finally confronted you, it was with full confidence that you were not a threat to him. That confidence killed him more surely than my blade.”

Eui stared at the ground, frowning. She agreed with everything that Master Ienaga was saying—in fact, it had always been her policy to act cautiously. When she was a bandit, she chose her victims carefully, stole into their camps at night, and killed them in their sleep. Avoiding risks was what had kept her alive, and it was only Jia’s influence that had convinced her to give the Grand Academy a proper chance.

Jia’s influence... Eui scowled. She loved Jia dearly—even her recklessness. Especially her recklessness. Jia had the ability to pull Eui out of her shell of cynical skepticism in a way that nobody else could match. But Eui had grown too intoxicated by that. She was too eager to let Jia take charge, to defer to Jia’s judgment in fear that her own would just lead to more mistakes—more bodies.

Yoshika was supposed to be an equal partnership. Jia and Eui in perfect harmony. But Eui gave up too much of herself in the exchange. In a way, Li Meili was living proof of it. When Eui watched Li Meili, she saw another Jia with little bits of herself sprinkled in. It wasn’t as obvious when she was experiencing it first hand, but from an outside perspective?

Jia was eager, impatient, reckless, and optimistic. If overconfidence was her bane, then shouldn’t Eui’s caution be the foil to that? Jia needed Eui as much as the opposite, but Eui wasn’t contributing her part. Her own lack of confidence ironically prevented her from being able to push back against Jia’s more hardheaded ideas. Eui needed to meditate on it.

“Thank you, Master. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

Master Ienaga nodded.

“Good. But don’t run off just yet. We still need to discuss what comes next.”

“Of course.”

The plan was fairly simple. They would continue north until they reached the provincial border, being extra vigilant for any sign of pursuers. Once they crossed it, they’d be relatively safe from persecution, as the sects tended to avoid interfering with each other’s territory.

To Eui’s surprise, it was Luo Mingyu who came forward to poke holes in the plan.

“Entering the territory of the Exalted Night Palace is simple enough, but how do you expect to travel through it unmolested? And, dare I ask, what is your ultimate destination?”

His question drew the attention of Pan Jiaying, who finally broke away from her argument to listen in. Jia and Li Meili joined in as well, and it was Jia who answered his question.

“We’ll be avoiding any cultivators, if possible. We’ve got legitimate mortal travel papers for Li Meili and a few others, which will help us to resupply if necessary. As for our destination—we’ve got allies in the Spiritual Flowing Purewater sect that will harbor us. We’re hoping to take advantage of an upcoming gathering there to plead our case to several important sect masters.”

Luo Mingyu crossed his arms.

“I’m still struggling to accept the idea that you’re diplomatic envoys. Murdering a sect master didn’t seem very diplomatic to me.”

Ienaga glared at him.

“I don’t tolerate threats against my disciples.”

Misun chuckled and shook her head.

“He was just some weakling nobody, anyway. Not even the provincial lord—just some underling. Nobody’s going to remember him a week from now.”

The alchemist sighed in resignation.

“You’re clearly working on a level much higher than I can comprehend. However, I don’t think it’s going to be as simple as just waltzing through the empire until you reach your allies.”

Jia frowned at him.

“Why not? It’s worked so far.”

He hesitated.

“Well...oh, by the emperor I really hope I haven’t misjudged you. I’m afraid that the sects are capable of tracking Pan Jiaying and myself. We’ve had our souls attuned to spiritual tablets, and I fully expect them to start distributing that signature to the other sects in the province soon. From them, it will escalate to the Great Sects, and through them it will disseminate to all the lesser sects in the empire.”

The blood drained from Pan Jiaying’s face as Luo Mingyu spoke. He smiled apologetically.

“Within the month, the entire empire will know us as criminals. The sects don’t cooperate much, but hunting down rogues and criminals is one thing they take very seriously. Yes, a month to reach the entire empire, at most. Half that before the first hunters start coming after us.”

Eui narrowed her eyes at the alchemist, mentally balancing the worth of his life against the liability he now represented. He caught her gaze and swallowed nervously.

“I’m, uh...we’d be most grateful if you didn’t reconsider sparing our lives, please.”