Nathan managed to find a hidden underground ridge where the two of them could settle and recover. The cavern was quiet, its walls glimmering faintly with mineral light, offering a rare sense of safety after the chaos of battle. They sat cross-legged, breathing deeply, and after an hour of meditation—supplemented by a few healing spirit pills from Uriel—their wounds knit and their qi stabilized. Strength returned to their bodies, though exhaustion lingered in their hearts.

  Uriel broke the silence first. His voice was low, almost reluctant.

  “Why do you keep protecting me?” Uriel asked. His voice carried more than curiosity—it was suspicion. For him, repeated protection did not automatically equal genuine loyalty; it could just as easily be manipulation, pity, or hidden motives.

  Nathan tilted his head, smiling as if the answer were obvious.

  “Isn’t it clear? You’re my little brother.”

  Uriel’s eyes narrowed. “Stop messing around. I’m being serious.”

  Nathan chuckled, reaching over to ruffle Uriel’s hair. The gesture earned him a glare, but Uriel didn’t push him away. Nathan’s expression softened, his tone shifting.

  “I’m sure you saw my suffering when we were trapped in that illusion formation.”

  “Yes,” Uriel admitted cautiously. “But what does that have to do with you calling me brother?”

  Nathan’s gaze grew distant, thoughtful. “I’ve never had a little brother before. But if I did, I’d want him to be like you. Strong, stubborn, unwilling to bow even when the world tries to break him.”

  Uriel felt something stir within him, a warmth he refused to trust. He scowled. “Stop messing around.”

  “Who said I am?” Nathan replied calmly. “We’re both victims of this world. If we don’t stick together, then what’s the point?”

  Uriel scoffed. “That’s nonsense, and you know it.”

  “Maybe,” Nathan conceded with a shrug. “But I know one thing for certain—no one wants to go through life alone. No matter how much people hurt us, we still need someone who has our back, even when we pretend we don’t.”

  Uriel’s chest tightened at those words. He muttered, “You’re na?ve.”

  Nathan smiled faintly. “Even if I’m disappointed in the future, I’m willing to open myself to bonds. If they fail, so be it. At least I’ll have tried.”

  Uriel turned his head, unwilling to let Nathan see the faint smile tugging at his lips. But Nathan noticed anyway.

  “Was that a smile?” he teased.

  “Who’s smiling?” Uriel snapped.

  “Are you blushing now?” Nathan pressed, his grin widening.

  Uriel’s qi flared dangerously. “Do you want to die?”

  “Calm down, brother,” Nathan said lightly. “You’ll rile up your qi if you keep that temper.”

  Uriel exhaled sharply, trying to mask the warmth creeping into his chest. “If you’re being nice just to lower my guard, it won’t work. It’s pointless to try.”

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  Nathan shook his head. “My little brother is smart and tough. How could I ever stoop to something so low?”

  Uriel snorted, unwilling to admit how much the words affected him. “Enough of this nonsense. Let’s go search for more treasure.”

  Nathan rose, his silver qi shimmering faintly in the dim light. “Lead the way, little brother.”

  Uriel groaned, but for once, he didn’t argue. He just did as he was told.

  For seven days Nathan and Uriel wandered the pocket realm, combing ridges and valleys for treasures. Spirit herbs grew in clusters along riverbanks, their fragrance sharp with qi. Spirit stones glittered in caverns, veins pulsing faintly beneath the rock. They gathered what they could, storing them in Uriel’s pouch, their rhythm steady—search, fight, recover, move on.

  But fortune always carried risk.

  On the dawn of the eighth day, a pack of spirit wolves caught their scent. Fanged beasts wreathed in shadow qi burst from the trees, snarls shaking the air. Nathan and Uriel fought as they fled, silver strikes and white flames scattering the pack, but more poured in from every side.

  The ground beneath them shuddered. Ancient runes hidden in the earth flared faintly as their steps struck the ridge. Before either could react, the stone gave way. The earth collapsed, swallowing them into darkness.

  They tumbled through a narrow shaft, the roar of wolves fading above as the fissure sealed itself with a grinding of stone. Trapped, cut off from the surface, they landed hard in a cavern.

  The underground crypt stretched before them, walls carved with half?eroded markings. The air was thick and putrid, heavy with the stench of rot and stagnant damp. Their footsteps echoed as they searched for a way out, Uriel’s flame?qi light flickering against the stone.

  Then the hissing began.

  From the shadows of the crypt slithered serpents—king cobras, serpent?grade spirit beasts at the peak of the Qi Condensation realm. Their crimson eyes glowed in the dark, hoods flaring wide, scales glistening like armor. Venom dripped from their fangs, sizzling as it struck the stone floor, etching shallow grooves into the rock.

  The first cobra lunged, its body coiling with terrifying speed. Nathan blurred into Silver Step, dodging aside, his fist cloaked in qi. Silver Strike slammed into its flank, scales cracking, but the beast hissed and twisted, tail whipping like a hammer. Nathan staggered, ribs aching from the impact.

  Another cobra surged toward Uriel, venom spraying in arcs. He countered with Phoenix Flame Ascension, white fire roaring outward. The blaze incinerated droplets midair, but the serpent’s body crashed through the flames, its scales resisting the heat. Uriel gritted his teeth, summoning a blade of fire, slashing across its hood. The beast shrieked, but its tail lashed, striking his shoulder and sending him sprawling.

  The crypt chamber erupted into chaos. Three serpents circled, their bodies weaving like rivers of steel. Nathan invoked Silver Wave, qi rippling outward, scattering two strikes, but the third cobra’s fangs grazed his arm, venom burning into his flesh. He hissed, forcing qi into the wound to slow the spread.

  Uriel rose, flames blazing brighter. He unleashed White Flame Burst, a torrent of fire that engulfed one serpent, forcing it back. But the effort drained him—his breath was ragged, and sweat poured down his face.

  The serpents pressed harder, relentless. Nathan and Uriel fought side by side, every technique unleashed—Silver Breaker piercing scales, Silver Tempest scattering strikes, Phoenix Flame carving arcs of fire. Yet each victory cost them blood. Nathan’s leg bled from a tail strike, Uriel’s arm burned from venom. Their qi reserves dwindled, their bodies trembling.

  At last, they were driven into a corner, backs against a broken ridge of stone. The serpents coiled, hoods flaring, ready to strike. Nathan’s chest heaved, silver qi flickering weakly. Uriel’s flames sputtered, his reserves nearly spent.

  The serpents lunged together, fangs gleaming. Nathan invoked Silver Tempest, his body cloaked in qi, strikes scattering the first two. Uriel’s flame blade intercepted the third, sparks and fire clashing against scales. The beasts recoiled, but only for a heartbeat.

  Then, from the shadows, a fourth cobra struck—a sneak attack, its fangs aimed straight for Nathan’s chest. He turned too late, qi too drained to defend.

  Uriel saw it. Against his better judgment, against every instinct of self?preservation, he moved. His body blurred, flames flaring weakly, and he threw himself into the serpent’s path.

  He cursed himself even as he moved—why was he protecting this fool? Yet his body refused to stop.

  The fangs sank into his side, venom burning, blood spilling. Uriel gasped, pain flashing across his face, but he held firm, forcing the beast back with a final burst of flame.

  Nathan’s eyes widened. “Uriel!”