Ji’an’s Five-Grain Constitution flared, enhancing her senses. Beneath the smell of crushed pine and disturbed earth, she caught a fleeting, incredibly subtle scent.

Sweet, cloying, and metallic.

Beast-Luring Incense.

Ji’an snapped her head to the side, looking directly at Mo Wuchen.

The assassin was currently leaning against Tang Bo, looking the picture of pale terror.

But as Ji’an looked at him, she noticed the faintest trace of a pale, pinkish powder dusted on the hem of his willow-green robes.

He had dragged the hem through the brush deliberately, painting a glowing, scented target right onto their squad.

’This absolute psychopath!’ Ji’an’s inner voice screamed. ’He lured a boss-level monster to us to see how we’d react! He’s trying to test my cultivation base!’

The turtle roared again, raising a massive, tree-trunk-sized leg and stomping the ground.

A shockwave of earth Qi rushed toward them, uprooting ferns and sending a wave of dirt flying into the air.

"Boss! What do we do?!" Tang Bo yelled, shielding his face. "Do we fight it?!"

"Fight a walking mountain with a spatula?!" Ji’an yelled back, adjusting her grip on Princess Ling’er’s legs to ensure the girl wouldn’t fall. "Are you insane?! Knowing when to retreat is the highest form of martial wisdom! RUN!"

Ji’an didn’t wait for them to process the order. She activated her Shadow Step, exploding backward into the dense foliage.

"Move! Move! Move!" Ji’an shouted over her shoulder as Tang Bo, the guards, Liu Liu, Su Wan, and the "sickly" Wuchen scrambled after her.

The Mountain-Crag Turtle lowered its massive head and charged, acting like a living, breathing battering ram.

It didn’t go around trees; it simply plowed through them, its rocky shell shattering centuries-old oaks like toothpicks.

The chase was terrifying. The ground shook so violently that keeping a steady footing was nearly impossible.

Ji’an had to weave through the dense, ancient roots of the forest, her agility tested to its absolute limits by the extra weight of the Princess on her back.

It wasn’t that Ling’er was heavy; she was remarkably light, but carrying another human being completely disrupted the aerodynamic flow of Qi required for advanced movement techniques.

Ji’an had to burn twice as much energy just to maintain her speed.

"Senior Brother Lin!" Ling’er cried out, her arms wrapped tightly around Ji’an’s neck.

The Princess looked back over Ji’an’s shoulder, her eyes wide with horror as the massive, snapping beak of the turtle snapped a tree just twenty feet behind them.

The beast was gaining. The Beast-Luring Incense on Wuchen’s robes was driving it into a frenzy.

Ling’er felt the heavy, ragged breathing of the cook beneath her. She felt the strain in Ji’an’s muscles.

A sudden, overwhelming surge of guilt and royal melodrama washed over the teenager.

"Senior Brother, put me down!" Ling’er shouted, her voice trembling with tragic resolve.

Ji’an leaped over a massive, mossy ravine. "Are you crazy?! I put you down, you’re turtle food in three seconds flat!"

"You don’t have to do this for me!" Ling’er sobbed, clinging tighter even as she demanded to be released. "I am a burden! My ankle is ruined! If you keep carrying me, we will both perish! Leave me and run away! Let my royal blood satisfy the beast so that you may live!"

Ji’an nearly tripped over her own feet in mid-air.

A visceral, full-body shudder of pure, unadulterated cringe ripped down Ji’an’s spine. The goosebumps on her arms were so prominent they could have grated cheese.

’Oh my god,’ Ji’an thought, her face scrunching up in sheer agony. ’She said it. She said the lines. She’s monologuing in the middle of a monster chase! Is there a script these Protagonists and Royals have to memorize?!’

"Your Highness," Ji’an gritted her teeth, landing heavily and immediately launching into another sprint to dodge a flying boulder kicked up by the beast. "Please, for the love of the Heavens, stop talking like a third-rate tragic opera! The turtle doesn’t want your ’royal blood,’ it wants to eat us because we smell like a walking buffet! And I am not leaving you behind, because if you die, your brother, the Second Prince, will literally skin me alive! You are my royal insurance policy! Now shut up and hold on!"

Ling’er’s tragic, tearful monologue ground to a halt.

She blinked, her face flushing bright red against Ji’an’s neck. "You... you’re only saving me because of my brother?!"

"I am saving you because I am a decent human being who hates paperwork, and filing a ’dead princess’ report sounds exhausting!" Ji’an yelled back. "Duck!"

Ji’an slid under a massive, fallen log. The turtle crashed through the log above them, showering them in splinters and dirt.

"Turn left!" Ji’an commanded the squad ahead of her.

She remembered the topography from the map. The Mountain-Crag Turtle was incredibly heavy and relied on solid earth.

Ahead of them was the Whispering Mire, a vast, deep swampland filled with sinking mud.

"Into the mud! Go down!" Ji’an yelled.

The squad didn’t hesitate. They threw themselves into the swamp, splashing waist-deep into the foul-smelling, murky water.

Lin Ji’an followed, her boots sinking deeply into the muck, slowing her pace to a grueling trudge.

The Turtle reached the edge of the swamp. It roared, slamming its massive feet into the mud.

But the moment its immense, rocky weight settled on the soft, unstable terrain, it began to sink.

The beast thrashed, its snapping beak snapping empty air, but it was too heavy. It couldn’t cross the mire without burying itself alive.

With a final, frustrated hiss that shook the reeds, the turtle turned around and lumbered back into the solid forest, tearing down a few more trees in sheer spite.

Ji’an waded through the mud until they reached a patch of solid, elevated moss on the other side of the swamp.

She gently lowered Ling’er onto a dry rock before collapsing onto her back in the grass, staring up at the canopy and gasping for air.