The Vermilion Demon Lord gave a curt nod, scarlet eyes dimming to embers. He and Jared resumed their slow pursuit, matching the cultists' footprints as though the earth were strung with tripwire.
The Ghostspring vanguard reached the first stalks of the Jade Bamboo Grove.
Jared had barely inhaled the grove's cool scent when the air convulsed.
Emerald light erupted skyward, bright enough to carve green shadows across his cheek. Leaves sheared from the stalks, each one hardening mid-flight into a jade razor.
They slammed toward the intruders like a sideways cloudburst. From the soil, ink-dark vines burst forth, writhing toward ankles with the hunger of snakes smelling blood.
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