The three Zhao family cultivators moved through the sect's outer buildings with focused speed. They were not attacking randomly — they knew where they were going.
Toward the inner disciple wing.
Toward his room.
Sect disciples scrambled. Senior inner disciples moved to intercept. The sect formation activated — blue-white light running through the walls, channeling defensive qi through the structure.
Wen Dao ran not away from the intruders but toward the path they would take.
This was not bravery. This was positioning.
They were heading for his room to search it. Whatever they found there — the technique cloth, the remaining pill — they would take. He needed to be ahead of them.
He reached his room first. Two minutes.
He scooped everything: the complete Iron Question Fist cloth, his training log, the unnamed pill, Ren Long's copied notes. All of it into the inner pocket of his robe.
He took the jade pendant and pressed it firmly against the wrist mark.
The mark flared. But it was not yet the near-death trigger. Good — he needed to save that.
He went back into the corridor.
Sounds of fighting from two directions. The sect's senior inner disciples were engaging the intruders. But Core Formation vs. Qi Condensation was not a competitive match — the sect disciples were buying time, not winning.
One intruder broke through the defensive line. He came down the corridor at speed.
Wen Dao flattened against the wall and let him pass.
The intruder went into his room. Wen Dao heard the sound of searching.
Searching. Finding nothing.
The intruder came back out into the corridor. He looked at Wen Dao. A man in his thirties, hard face, Core Formation aura pressing into the air around him.
He could see the inner robe was full. He looked at the bulge and then at Wen Dao's face.
'Give it over,' he said.
'What specifically do you want?' Wen Dao said.
'The pill. The inheritance.'
'If I give them to you, what happens to me?'
'Nothing. We leave.'
'And if I don't?'
The man said nothing. His aura pushed harder.
Wen Dao felt it physically — a pressure on his chest and shoulders, like standing under moving water. Core Formation cultivation was another realm above Qi Condensation. The gap was enormous.
'I have a question for you,' Wen Dao said.
'I'm not here to talk.'
'Why does the Zhao family want this inheritance? Not the obvious answer — the real one.'
The man's eyes narrowed. 'What?'
'You're risking a sect war for a pill and a technique. That means the pill is more valuable than a sect war. Why? What does the Pale Flame inheritance actually do?'
The man moved.
Wen Dao dove sideways. The strike hit the wall where he had been and cracked the stone.
He ran. Away from the man. Down the corridor toward the main courtyard.
The man came after him at Core Formation speed — a fundamentally different pace. Wen Dao could not outrun him.
He could not hide from him either — a Core Formation cultivator's qi sense would find him anywhere in the building.
He had one option.
He ran for the main gate. Sector by sector. Through the inner wing. Through the outer wing. Through the service corridor.
The man caught him at the gate. A hand closed around the back of his robe and lifted.
He was off the ground.
The mark on his wrist flared.
Near-mortal danger.
The inheritance activated.