The group moved swiftly along the winding badlands trail, the high ground Tamemoto had mentioned rising ahead like a low ridge against the hazy horizon.

  The Tile River was behind them now, its gentle murmur replaced by the crunch of boots on dry earth and the occasional clink of weapons.

  The leader of the Azure Fan Sect — a tall man named Master Lian Wei — walked at the front. His thin sword rested at his hip, the hilt wrapped in silver-blue silk. He glanced back at Gray and Tamemoto with a calm, appraising look.

  “I am Lian Wei,” he said. “Core disciple of the Azure Fan Sect. These are my juniors.”

  He gestured to the group.

  The two qi users (aura path) stepped forward first.

  Shen Huo, broad-shouldered, short-cropped hair, wearing the sect’s indigo robes with reinforced sleeves. He carried a pair of short tonfa, the wood dark and polished.

  Lin Mei, lithe and quick, long hair tied in a high ponytail. Her weapon was a pair of weighted chains with small blades at the ends — elegant and deadly.

  The two sword users followed.

  Zhao Feng, young and intense, his straight sword sheathed across his back. His stance was rigid, disciplined.

  Yue Lian, graceful and silent, wielding a curved dao that hung low at her waist.

  The last two were weapon specialists.

  Bao Jin, stocky and powerful, carrying a heavy guandao (polearm) over one shoulder.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Xia Rong, lean and wiry, dual-wielding twin hook swords that gleamed with faint qi traces.

  All six juniors wore the same indigo robes with the sect’s fan-and-fish emblem.

  They moved with practiced coordination — no wasted motion, no idle chatter.

  Lian Wei turned to Gray and Tamemoto. “And you two?”

  Tamemoto glanced at Gray. Gray gave a small nod.

  Tamemoto stepped forward slightly. “I’m Tamemoto. This is my brother, Gray. We’re from Camp Tile. We’re just scouting — making sure nothing strays toward the camp.”

  Gray drew his knife briefly — the simple blade he always carried — then sheathed it again. Tamemoto unslung his bow for a moment, showing the Orihara-style curve, then slung it back.

  Lian Wei nodded.

  “Fair. We’re here to scout as well — but if the horde is real, we may need to participate in subjugation. Our sect requires merits for advancement.”

  He paused. “You’re locals. What’s your opinion on the situation?”

  Tamemoto looked at Gray again.

  Gray nodded once more.

  Tamemoto spoke. “We want to go to the vantage point first. Check what’s happening. See if any strays are heading toward Camp Tile. If it’s safe, we stay and watch. If not, we run and warn everyone.”

  Lian Wei considered it. “Reasonable. We share the same concern — how many trolls, what type. A horde can be dozens or hundreds. We need to know before committing.”

  Gray spoke for the first time. “What kind of trolls should we expect?”

  Lian Wei’s expression turned serious. “There will definitely be giant trolls — durable, thick-skinned, hard to kill. Soldier trolls — smaller, faster, with some regeneration. And hopefully no wolf riders — those use mounts and can channel qi. They’re the worst.”

  Gray and Tamemoto exchanged a glance. Trolls using aura? They had never heard that before. The world was bigger than they thought.

  Lian Wei continued. “To meet our goals, we need to compromise. We’ll scout first. If strays appear — trolls or bandits heading toward Camp Tile — we work together to subdue them. One of our disciples will keep watch for anything moving toward your camp. If the horde itself approaches, we decide then.”

  Gray looked at Tamemoto.

  Tamemoto spoke. “We don’t need merits. We just need resources from the fight — hides, claws, anything we can sell. That’s our goal.”

  The group looked surprised for a moment. Then Lian Wei smiled faintly.

  “Fair. We take the ears for our sect quest. Everything else is yours.”

  The agreement was made.

  They moved on toward the high ground.

  The badlands stretched out around them — cracked earth, scattered boulders, dry scrub. The wind carried dust and the faint roar of distant trolls.

  Gray felt the weight of his knife at his belt. Tamemoto walked beside him, bow ready.