"And the sole support class for the entire Azure Empire. I refuse. I absolutely refuse to scale my personal infrastructure to support a continent of dead weight!’
She looked at Gu Zhiwei, who was happily licking the dark soy glaze off his fingers, completely oblivious to the fact that his "saintly" Martial Uncle was currently plotting to put him through the equivalent of a woodchipper.
’They think their current power is enough,’ Ji’an thought, a dark, sadistic smirk slowly replacing her innocent smile. ’They think because they survived the colosseum, they are now the apex predators. They don’t realize they are just well-dressed appetizers for the endgame bosses.’
If the World Will wasn’t going to provide them with a life-threatening crucible to force their bottlenecks to break... then Lin Ji’an was going to manually write the patch notes herself.
She was going to become the villain.
She was going to become the hellish, tyrannical, nightmare-inducing drill sergeant they desperately needed. It didn’t matter if they hated her or if they cried.
As long as they compiled cleanly into the Nascent Soul realm by the time they reached the Azure Dragon Sect, her conscience would be clear.
"Are you all full?" Ji’an asked loudly, pushing herself off the tree trunk and stepping back into the light of the fire.
"Completely stuffed, Martial Uncle!" Zhiwei groaned happily, patting his taut, muscular stomach, leaning back against a rock. "I feel as though I could sleep for three days! The Yang energy in this meat is staggering!"
"Excellent," Ji’an beamed, her eyes flashing with a terrifying, predatory glint. "Make sure you hydrate. And get a good night’s sleep, boys. Tomorrow, we have a very... active itinerary."
The disciples, heavily sedated by the massive influx of protein, carbohydrates, and high-tier spiritual energy, simply nodded, rolling out their sleeping mats on the glowing moss.
Within thirty minutes, the entire camp, save for Zechuan and Wangchen, who were quietly sitting by the fire watching Ji’an wash the wok, was fast asleep, snoring softly in the damp miasma air.
Ji’an scrubbed the iron surface of her pan, looking out into the pitch-black, terrifying shadows of the Labyrinth of the Beasts.
’Sleep well, my little oxen,’ Ji’an whispered to the night. ’Because tomorrow, the plow gets attached.’
***
The sun did not rise in the Labyrinth of the Beasts.
The sky simply transitioned from pitch-black to a sickly, luminescent, hazy shade of poisonous purple as the miasma fog thickened in the lowlands.
The sixteen disciples awoke feeling incredibly strange.
The massive amount of raw Yang energy from the Rank 7 Shadow-Stalker Bear ribs had settled deeply into their meridians overnight.
Their bodies felt heavy, bloated with unrefined, surging power making them feel sluggish, yet simultaneously vibrating with an intense, restless need to expend kinetic energy.
It felt exactly like drinking six cans of hyper-caffeinated energy drinks right before being wrapped in a lead blanket.
Gu Zhiwei sat up, groaning, rubbing his temples. "My core feels... incredibly dense. It is almost uncomfortable."
Lu Jianheng stood up, attempting to stretch, but found his limbs felt strangely leaden. "The meat was too rich. Our spiritual pathways are congested with unassimilated Qi."
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The deafening, aggressively loud sound of a cast-iron ladle being violently beaten against the side of a massive Black Iron Wok shattered the quiet morning fog.
The disciples flinched, covering their ears, turning to look at the center of the camp.
Lin Ji’an was standing atop the highest, most prominent petrified rock in the clearing.
She was no longer wearing the relaxed, comfortable chef’s apron from the night before. She had stripped down to her tight and white linen inner-tunic and a pair of heavy, durable, dark brown training trousers tucked into her red leather combat boots.
She tied a crimson bandana tightly around her forehead to keep the sweat out of her eyes.
She looked less like a chef and more like a mercenary warlord preparing to initiate a hostile takeover.
"GOOD MORNING, FREELOADERS!" Ji’an roared, her voice amplified by her Qi, echoing aggressively through the canyon walls. "DROP YOUR SLEEPING MATS! FALL IN LINE! TWO ROWS OF EIGHT! YOU HAVE EXACTLY TEN SECONDS BEFORE I START DOCKING YOUR BREAKFAST RATIONS!"
The disciples scrambled, caught off guard by the sudden shift in her demeanor. The sweet, maternal saint from the night before was completely gone, replaced by a screaming tyrant.
They hastily formed two messy lines on the glowing moss.
Ji’an jumped down from the rock, pacing slowly back and forth in front of the formation, smacking the heavy iron ladle against her open palm with a menacing, rhythmic thwack.
"You thought the ribs were free?" Ji’an sneered, stopping to glare directly into Gu Zhiwei’s wide, confused golden eyes. "You thought the Celestial Sword Sect sent me out here to run a luxury, all-inclusive catering service for a bunch of spoiled, silver-spoon prodigies?!"
She laughed, a harsh, mocking sound.
"Nothing is free in my kitchen. You consumed a Rank 7 apex predator, a thousands of spirit-stones worth of Qi. And right now, that energy is sitting in your meridians, stagnating, turning you into sluggish, bloated, incredibly inefficient dead weight."
She pointed her ladle at Lu Jianheng.
"You call yourself a Sword Lord? You are a walking bottleneck! Your core architecture is flawed! You rely on the innate edge of Autumn Shine to do your heavy lifting! Take away your legendary blade, and you are just a stiff-necked aristocratic brat with a decent posture!"
Jianheng flushed a brilliant, indignant red, opening his mouth to protest, but Ji’an didn’t let him speak.
She rounded on Wen Shiru. "And you, Fox! You think throwing explosive gold coins makes you a warrior?! Your Qi reserves are pathetic! You hide behind your wealth and your barriers! If a beast breaches your array, you’ll be folded in half like a cheap folding fan!"
She paced down the line, verbally eviscerating every single one of them. She tore down their egos as she systematically, ruthlessly pointed out every single flaw, shortcut they took, every crutch they leaned on.