A Blade and an Arrow

Reassurance

"FENG XIN!" Mu Qing screams, worried and tired and just in desperate need to see the archer. Slashing his way through the wooden walls, he perks up his senses for any weird noises or any loud, deep voice but like before, he recieved nothing.

He wanted to yell his name again, yet he knows that won't do anything good. The thick, wooden walls were created by some ancient ghost, old enough to probably see Jun Wu as the crown prince of Wuyong about three thousand years ago when the kingdom still stood. The ghost had been quiet for a long time until now that decided it was a good time to strike.

From what Mu Qing had gathered throughout all these, the wooden walls were an enchanted spell. Created by the nearest woods in the forest and was ordered by the ghost spirit itself but that was it. It could only create walls with the wood and fortunately not weapons or traps. But as fortunate as he was without getting hurt yet, was unfortunate he was with not seeing that damnable lover of his.

He sighed in frustration, slicing another wall in half only to be met with another. "I swear to Crimson Rain, Feng Xin, if you're dying on me right now.." He trails off, eyes narrowing at the faint glow of gold in the corner. He swallows, slowly strutting toward it. Eyes widening in complete surprise and a horrifying dread creeping inside him once he saw a broken bow with an empty quiver.

"Fuck." He picks up the two pieces of Fengshen, leaving the quiver as he could buy another anyway. Carefully tying it together with a cable and wrapping it with a spare cloth, he resumes his search with an even more nervous heart.

He maneuvers through the spaces he sees instead of having to break the walls. If the ghost was capable enough to break such spiritual weapon wielded by a strong martial god, it was better to be stealth and quiet. He was yet to actually see the ghost since the moment they arrived here as Feng Xin quickly disappeared out of his sight without him noticing.

Feels like dejavu when they were getting swallowed by the three spirit mountains in Mt. Tonglu. Where they didn't know where everyone was going and how they were getting separated. He sighed again, silently, trying to pick up on any noises except for his footsteps and cursing internally when he hears nothing.

He wasn't at all surprised when something was clearly blocking the communication array. Such an old ghost and has the ability to create wooden walls, no doubt it could also create a blocking array. Amidst the darkness, he steps into a more wider space, still a dead-end but surrounded with stone walls rather than wood as he lights a fire ball on his palm and looked around.

Nothing.

He knocks on the stone walls. With the sound, it was thin. He pokes it with a finger, watching it getting through the stone with ease before he shoves his whole hand in it for better sight. He peaks through it, another dark space. Creating a hole big enough for him to fit in, he threw the fire ball in the middle and lets it float.

His eyes rove around, stopping to a corner once he sees a faint movement. Drawing his saber, he quietly makes his way towards it, the fire ball following close enough to light it as he hastily ran when he sees it was the person he was looking for. "Feng Xin?" He murmurs, cupping the bloody cheek with one hand as he drops his saber. "Oi, Feng Xin, wake up." He cradles his face with a frown, channeling his spiritual energy through him and frowning deeper when he feels the latter's core was empty, barely blinking with no spiritual power. "Your qi.." He trails off and roams his eyes on his person.

The blood was coming from a big injury on the archer's head, one that Mu Qing's currently weakening spiritual power blocked by a different array cannot heal enough for it to stop bleeding. Feng Xin's meridians and qi was drained out off him, almost as if someone sucked it out using brute force. He glanced at his palms instinctively, sucking in a breath as he realized the bow must have been forcefully yanked out of his hold with how the calloused hands were scratched to bleed. "Aiya, what did that bitch do to you?" He questions more to himself, taking out another spare cloth and wrapped it around his head, making sure not to tie it too tight and not too loose, enough to give pressure before he tears his own outer layer sleeve. Rend it in two and carefully wrapped it around his palms.