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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: THE RAID
The days in the Western Desolation fell into a rhythm.
Shen Chen woke before dawn, his body still heavy with sleep, and began his cultivation practice. The Oasis of Qi had given him a taste of what was possible, but the desert was not so generous. Here, the spiritual energy was thin, scattered, like grains of sand in the wind.
But he had learned to adapt. The Myriad Void Devouring Technique allowed him to absorb energy from anywhere—the faint Qi in the air, the residual energy in demon beast cores, even the spiritual essence of the ancient ruins that dotted the landscape.
He sat on a flat rock at the edge of the canyon, his legs crossed, his eyes closed. The morning air was cool, the sky a pale shade of orange. He breathed in, drawing the Qi into his body, feeling it flow through his ridians like a slow, steady river.
Foundation Establishnt Realm (3rd Level).
Still a long way to go.
He opened his eyes and looked out at the desert. The Western Desolation stretched to the horizon, a vast expanse of red earth and jagged rocks. It was a harsh, unforgiving land, but it was also beautiful in its own way.
I'll miss this place when I leave.
He rose to his feet and made his way back to the bandit camp.
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The camp was already awake.
The bandits moved about their morning routines—cooking, repairing equipnt, tending to the small herd of spirit beasts they used for transport. Old Liu sat by the fire, a cup of tea in his hand, his eyes sharp and watchful.
"Morning, boy," he said, as Shen Chen approached. "Sleep well?"
"Well enough," Shen Chen replied, settling beside him. "Any word from the scouts?"
Old Liu nodded, his expression growing serious. "There's a shipnt coming through the pass. Supplies. Weapons. Spirit Stones. The rchant caravan is guarded by a handful of cultivators, but nothing we can't handle."
Shen Chen's eyes glead with interest. "What's the target?"
"A supply convoy from the Li Clan," Old Liu said, his voice low. "They're sending resources to their outpost in the eastern Desolation. Weapons, pills, spirit stones. Enough to keep a small army going for months."
Shen Chen felt a surge of anticipation. The Li Clan. His enemies. Taking their resources would be more than just a raid—it would be a blow against the people who had hunted him, who had driven him from his ho.
"I'm in," he said.
Old Liu smiled, a knowing expression. "I thought you might be."
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The bandits moved through the desert like ghosts.
They had been tracking the Li Clan convoy for two days, following the trail of dust and the faint traces of spiritual energy. The convoy was well-guarded—a dozen cultivators, each at the Qi Condensation Realm, led by a Foundation Establishnt cultivator.
But the bandits had numbers. And they had surprise.
Shen Chen crouched behind a rock formation, his eyes fixed on the convoy below. The wagons were heavily laden, their wheels leaving deep tracks in the sand. The guards moved with practiced precision, their eyes scanning the horizon.
"We'll hit them at the narrow point," Old Liu said, his voice barely a whisper. "The canyon walls will funnel them in. They won't have room to maneuver."
Shen Chen nodded. "I'll take the leader. The Foundation Establishnt cultivator."
Old Liu studied him for a mont, then nodded. "Be careful, boy. He'll be experienced."
"I know."
The signal ca—a sharp whistle, the sound of a bird that didn't exist in the desert. The bandits surged forward, their war cries echoing through the canyon.
Chaos erupted. The guards scrambled to defend themselves, their auras blazing with spiritual energy. But the bandits were too fast, too coordinated. They struck from all sides, their blades finding gaps in the guards' defenses.
Shen Chen moved through the chaos, his eyes fixed on his target. The Foundation Establishnt cultivator was a tall man with cold eyes and a scar across his face. He was powerful, his aura blazing with a steady, controlled intensity.
"You're the leader?" the man asked, his voice dripping with contempt. "You're just a child."
Shen Chen smiled. "I'm more than you think."
He attacked, his blade flashing in the desert light. The man was fast, his movents precise, but Shen Chen was faster. His Void Step carried him across the battlefield, his blade finding the gaps in the man's defenses.
The man stumbled, his eyes widening with shock. "Impossible. You're just a Foundation Establishnt cultivator. How—"
Shen Chen didn't give him ti to finish. His blade found the man's throat, and the battle was over.
He stood over the fallen cultivator, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The chaos of the battle faded, replaced by a strange, hollow silence.
I killed him. I killed a Foundation Establishnt cultivator.
He felt no remorse. No guilt. Only a cold, steady satisfaction.
The bandits were already looting the wagons, their voices loud with triumph. Old Liu approached, his face split in a grin.
"Good work, boy. That was clean."
Shen Chen nodded, his eyes still fixed on the fallen cultivator. "It was necessary."
Old Liu's expression softened. "It was. But that doesn't make it easy. Rember that."
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