Chapter 22: The Dark Qi Ambush and the Sheath’s Test
The tunnel stretched on, the greenish glow of the ley line core growing brighter with each step. Lin Yue’s torch had burned down to a nub, so he snuffed it out—now relying on the core’s faint light to see. The air grew thicker, the dark qi clinging to their skin like a cold mist, and Xiao Yu’s hand tightened around her dagger, her eyes scanning the shadows.
“Lord Xiao must have guards posted near the core,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the distant hum of the ley line. “We should move slower. Stay closer to the walls.”
Lin Yue nodded, pressing himself against the rough stone wall. He could feel his dragon qi shifting beneath the spring qi sheath—restless, as if sensing the danger ahead. He focused, adjusting the sheath’s tension, making sure not a single wisp of blue light escaped. “Long Xuan,” he thought, “can you sense anything? Guards? Traps?”
Long Xuan’s voice was quiet, almost strained, as if fighting against the dark qi in the air. “There’s something. Not guards—yet. A faint pulse of dark qi, coming from the ceiling. It’s a trap. Be careful.”
Lin Yue froze, his gaze darting upward. The ceiling was covered in thick shadows, but if he squinted, he could see it—a thin, black wire, stretched between two stone supports, almost invisible in the dim light. And attached to the wire… small, glass vials, filled with a dark, bubbling liquid.
“Poison darts,” he whispered to Xiao Yu, nodding at the ceiling. “Trigger the wire, and they’ll fall. We need to get past without touching it.”
Xiao Yu leaned forward, studying the wire. “It’s too high to reach. And too tight—we can’t duck under it. What if we use a rock? Throw it to trigger the trap, then run past while the darts fall.”
Lin Yue shook his head. “The darts might cover the whole tunnel. We’d be caught in the crossfire. Wait—my father’s journal.” He pulled the leather-bound journal from his backpack, flipping to a page marked with a dog-eared corner. “He wrote about Shadow Sect traps—some use dark qi to activate, but pure qi can disrupt them. If I send a wisp of spring qi to cut the wire… carefully…”
He held out his hand, summoning a tiny thread of spring qi—thin as a hair, bright as moonlight. He guided it upward, his focus sharp, until it touched the black wire. The wire sizzled, smoke curling from the point of contact, and with a soft snap, it broke. The glass vials fell, shattering on the stone floor, but the dark liquid inside evaporated instantly, neutralized by the spring qi.
“Got it,” Lin Yue said, letting out a breath. But before he could relax, a low growl echoed from ahead—familiar, but darker than the qilin’s.
Xiao Yu’s dagger was up in an instant. “More wolves? But we passed the qilin—”
“No,” Lin Yue said, his voice tight. “Not wolves. Something else. Dark qi constructs.”
From the shadows stepped three figures—tall, thin, their bodies made of swirling dark qi, their faces empty voids. They didn’t have weapons, but their hands ended in sharp, black claws, and their eyes glowed with the same red light as the qilin’s.
“Shadow Wraiths,” Long Xuan said, his voice urgent. “They’re made from the ley line’s dark qi. They don’t feel pain—you have to destroy their core, the black stone in their chests.”
The first Wraith lunged, its claws slashing at Xiao Yu. She dodged, her dagger slicing through its arm—but the dark qi just reformed, no damage done. “It’s useless!” she shouted, jumping back. “My dagger can’t hurt it!”
Lin Yue stepped forward, his hand glowing with spring qi. But before he could attack, he felt it—the Wraith’s dark qi reaching for his dantian, trying to tear through the spring qi sheath. His dragon qi squirmed, fighting to break free, and for a heartbeat, the sheath flickered—blue light flashing for a split second.
The Wraiths froze, their void faces turning toward him. “Dragon qi,” one of them hissed, its voice like static. “Lord Xiao wants the codex. You will come with us.”
Lin Yue gritted his teeth, tightening the sheath. “Not a chance.” He summoned more spring qi, shaping it into a blade, and charged. He aimed for the first Wraith’s chest—the black stone core, glowing faintly—and sliced. The Wraith screamed, its body dissolving into dark qi, leaving only the stone, which crumbled to dust.
The other two Wraiths attacked at once, their claws closing in on Lin Yue’s shoulders. He ducked, rolling to the side, and Xiao Yu was there—her dagger glowing with fire runes, stabbing at the second Wraith’s core. The runes flared, and the Wraith’s body smoked, its core cracking. Lin Yue finished it off with a spring qi blade, and the Wraith dissolved.
The third Wraith turned to run, but Lin Yue was faster. He sent a thread of spring qi wrapping around its legs, tripping it, then drove a blade into its core. It dissolved, leaving the tunnel quiet again—except for their heavy breathing.
Lin Yue’s hand was shaking. The spring qi sheath had held, but just barely. If the Wraiths had pushed harder… “We need to move,” he said, sheathing his spring qi. “The Wraiths will alert the Dark Guards. They’ll be coming for us.”
Xiao Yu nodded, wiping sweat from her forehead. “Lead the way. I’m right behind you.”