The wind howled through the basalt walls of the gorge, drowning out the murmurs of the cultivators gathered at the bottom. The echo bounced between the rocks with a grave lament, as if the canyon itself sensed the violence that was about to be unleashed.
Shen Tian, camouflaged with the shadow of a cliff thanks to his Cultivation Concealment Technique, observed with narrowed eyes. His breathing was an imperceptible thread, synchronized with the whisper of the wind between the cracks. Every muscle of his body remained motionless, fused with the cold stone like a predator lying in wait.
Lin Xiao’s envoy has the map. The Zhao Clan elders are nervous. The hooded figure stands frozen. Three factions, one single objective.
Shen Tian memorized every detail: the position of the guards, the distance between the envoy and the gorge exit, the angle at which the parchment reflected the golden light. His 135-year-old mind cataloged the scene like an experienced strategist.
’Freeze your breath, silence your Qi,’ Xue Huang whispered in his mind. ’That formation you feel in the air bears the mark of a living hand. Someone has prepared this place.’
I know. The Qi flows unnaturally. A trap lives here.
The complete map floated between Lin Xiao’s envoy and the hooded figure, projecting a golden light that delineated an intricate mountainous topography in the air. The runes shone with a pulsating intensity, like veins of light that revealed subterranean mountain ranges, rivers of petrified lava, and, at the center of it all, a cave marked with a red rune that throbbed like a heart.
Lin Xiao’s envoy extended his hand toward the map, his fingers barely grazing the luminous projection, his gaze fixed on the glowing runes. A smile of absolute satisfaction drew itself on his aristocratic face.
"At last," he murmured. "Three generations of searching. The Lin Clan will finally have its inheritance."
The Zhao Clan elders exchanged nervous glances. The most veteran, a man whose face was furrowed with scars and a graying beard, stepped forward.
"Lord envoy," he said with a tense bow. "Our agreement was that the Zhao Clan would receive a copy of the map and access to the cave. The Lin Clan would have priority, but we too—"
"The Zhao Clan," the envoy interrupted, his gaze still fixed on the map, "will receive what was promised. Once the Lin Clan has secured the inheritance. That is the order."
The elder clenched his teeth but held his tongue. The power difference between the two clans was too great.
The Zhao are trapped. Their position leaves room only for obedience. The envoy will betray them as soon as he has the opportunity.
’That fate belongs to them alone,’ Xue Huang said. ’Observe. Learn. Wait.’
The hooded figure, who until that moment had remained in a sepulchral silence, finally spoke. His voice was raspy, as if centuries had passed since its last use.
"The map is authentic. The fusion has confirmed it."
The envoy nodded, satisfied.
"Then we can proceed. Elder Mo, secure the perimeter. I want to know if more rats hide in these rocks."
One of the guards, a man with broad shoulders and a cold gaze, nodded and began walking toward the gorge entrance.
Damn. If he does a Qi sweep, he could detect me.
Shen Tian held his breath. His Cultivation Concealment Technique was good, but a Level 9 expert could detect his presence if he got too close. He pressed himself harder against the rock, merging with the shadow until his energy signature became indistinguishable from the basalt itself.
Elder Mo passed ten meters from his hiding place. His gaze swept the rocks and kept moving. Shen Tian’s presence registered as an extension of the stone; the elder saw only cliff and moss.
Good. Keep walking.
Elder Mo returned to the envoy’s side.
"Nothing, sir. The gorge is clean."
"Perfect."
However, before the group could memorize the route, the earth beneath their feet vibrated.
RUMBLE...
It carried a rhythmic pulse, as if something immense were breathing beneath the earth’s crust. The rocks of the canyon walls creaked, and then—
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
—exploded outward in a rain of sharp splinters.
A dozen scaly creatures emerged from the cracks. They were reptiles the size of adult wolves, with elongated bodies covered in iridescent scales that reflected the torchlight with metallic flashes. Their jaws were disproportionate, opening at an impossible angle to reveal rows of serrated teeth like bone saws. Their claws, curved and black as obsidian, tore through the black stone as if it were wet clay.
The first of them, the largest, lunged at a Zhao Clan elder with a speed that belied its size.
SNAP!
The elder managed to raise his sword a heartbeat before the jaws closed on his arm. A wet crunch resonated through the canyon—
CRUNCH!
—followed by a shriek that drowned in blood.
"Gorge Lizards!" shouted another elder, unsheathing his weapon. "Defensive formation!"
The Lin Clan envoy watched the beasts with glacial indifference. With a disdainful movement of his sleeve, a burst of cutting Qi shot out like a crescent of silver light.
WHOOSH!
The energy tore through the air with a sharp whistle, decapitating three of the beasts in an instant.
SHING! SHING! SHING!
The heads fell to the ground, rolling among the stones, while their bodies continued running by inertia for two more steps before collapsing.
"Pathetic," the envoy murmured. "Frontier beasts. A waste of a blade stroke."
The Zhao Clan elders and the hooded figure unsheathed their weapons, shredding the rest of the reptiles in a routine carnage that lasted barely five seconds. The swords shone with dense Qi, cutting scales, bones, and flesh with brutal efficiency.
SLASH! CRUNCH! SQUELCH!
Blood splattered the basalt walls, dyeing the canyon a dark red that dripped toward the ground.
One of the Zhao Clan elders, a man with a grizzled beard and trembling hands, received a claw swipe to the chest that tore his tunic and opened three bloody furrows in his skin.
RIP!
He fell to his knees, gasping.
"Elder Wu!" shouted another of the Zhao, running toward him.
"Just a scratch," growled Elder Wu, clenching his teeth. "Keep fighting."
The hooded figure, meanwhile, moved with lethal efficiency. His sword, a black blade that swallowed every glint of light, cut the air with a grave buzz.
VWOOOM...
Each time the blade touched a lizard, the reptile’s body disintegrated from the point of impact, as if the edge were made of acid.
HSSSSS!
In three movements, he finished off four more beasts.
Shen Tian observed the slaughter with cold eyes. A predictable demonstration of high-level cultivators crushing frontier fauna. Routine, beneath his intervention.
The hooded one is dangerous. His sword carries a decomposition attribute. Such an effect demands a power far beyond ordinary steel.
’It flows from a technique, the Dao of Decomposition made blade,’ Xue Huang said, her voice tinged with caution. ’That man has cultivated it to a terrifying degree. He is an expert of the Void Refinement Realm, or close to being one. Keep your distance.’
Noted.
But then, the mutilated corpses of the creatures began to glow.
FWOOM... FWOOM... FWOOM...
Under the darkness of the gorge, the dead scales emitted bioluminescent, rhythmic pulses. Red, green, blue; a frenetic and perfectly synchronized blinking that illuminated the bottom of the canyon with a grotesque and unnatural glow. The pulses propagated from one body to another, as if the corpses were communicating with each other, transmitting a message in a tongue alien to Shen Tian.
From the height of his hiding place, Shen Tian’s mind processed the absurd image. Among the modern terms the System had injected into his lexicon through its menus and interfaces, he found the perfect analogy.
They look like a cheap RGB light keyboard, he thought dryly.
"Shit!"
The exclamation resonated twice over. Below, the mysterious hooded figure broke his stoic silence with a hoarse, alarmed shout. Above, in Shen Tian’s mental space, the ancient and refined Blood Empress spat out exactly the same curse, her millennial elegance abandoned in that single syllable.
"Thousand-Colored Lizards," Xue Huang said, and for the first time, Shen Tian noticed a thread of genuine urgency in her voice. "Frontier vermin, weak one by one, yet those light pulses go beyond post-mortem muscle spasms. They are spiritual beacons. They are transmitting their exact coordinates to the hive. Linger ten more seconds here, and you will face an infinite ocean of teeth."
"How much time do we have?" Shen Tian asked mentally.
"Minutes shrink with every breath. Five at best."