Inside the dimly lit house tucked deep within the southern reaches beyond Ash Crown City, the atmosphere turned palpably tense as La Yu’s words hung in the air.
The man with the slouch and mismatched legs normally carried himself with an aloof confidence, often acting as the eyes and ears of this particular Drowned Crescent Cult cell. But tonight, that confidence was absent.
He shifted his weight awkwardly onto his longer leg, and a subtle tremor ran through his fingers.
The rough-voiced man who had just scoffed leaned forward, his smirk not quite as confident as before. "You’re telling a handful of randoms has you this spooked? That doesn’t sound like you, Yu."
"It’s not them," La Yu said in a low voice, almost a whisper. "It’s him."
There was a beat of silence. Then the woman with the cold voice, her lower face hidden by a silver veil, narrowed her eyes. "Elaborate. Who is he?"
La Yu took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his neck, as if recalling the mont physically unsettled him.
"I didn’t engage them. I only followed from afar, watching their movents at the Smoldering Rock rchant Union. The Tracker was with them—he seed relaxed. A young man and an older cultivator were present too. I assessed them quickly. One’s a Dao Shell Realm brat with so talent. The other’s an Immortal, high stage likely, definitely dangerous but manageable."
"And the third?" the veiled woman pressed.
"The third... That’s where things changed," La Yu whispered, lowering his gaze.
"I couldn’t see his face clearly at first—he wore nothing distinctive, no clan mark, no sect robe. Just ordinary clothes. But when he pulled out a token—an auction seal, I think—there was a mont. The rchant staff didn’t recognize it and grew disrespectful. He... corrected that."
"Corrected it?" The rough-voiced man arched a brow.
La Yu nodded slowly, almost reverently. "He released his Sword Intent. Not all of it—just a fraction. A sliver. But that was enough."
His voice faltered, and his throat moved as he swallowed dryly.
"Enough to make my knees tremble. Enough to make feel like a guillotine had just appeared behind my neck. Enough that I ran. I ran without looking back."
A mont of stunned silence descended on the room.
The veiled woman exchanged glances with the rough man, who now looked more serious. "You’re not easily rattled, Yu," the woman said. "You’ve survived two sect raids. What makes this one different?"
"It wasn’t just strength," La Yu muttered. "It was purity. That sword intent was unlike anything I’ve felt. Clean. Sharp. Cold. Focused. I’ve seen sword cultivators before. I’ve fought against elders from the Xian Sword Sect, two of them during the Baiyang Ridge suppression three thousand years ago. But even those two... didn’t make feel like this."
"You think he’s from the Xian Sword Sect?" the rough man asked, his tone skeptical.
La Yu slowly nodded. "He is. I overheard them speaking briefly when they left the union. They ntioned sects and contacts. They spoke as if they held influence."
"And?" the veiled woman asked sharply.
"He’s not just from the Xian Sword Sect," La Yu replied, locking eyes with them now. "He’s reached the Sword Heart Stage."
The words dropped like boulders in a still pond.
The veiled woman froze, her breath catching slightly behind the silver sh of her veil. Even the rough man sat back slowly, his cocky expression lting into concern.
"You’re sure?" he asked, this ti his voice quieter.
"I’ve seen it twice before," La Yu said. "Once from a sword grandmaster who split a peak in two during a border conflict, and once... once from the old founder of the Broken Edge Pavilion, during his last duel before disappearing. The aura they emitted—refined, conscious, alive. The Sword becos the cultivator’s soul."
He clenched his fists, shaking slightly. "That man’s Sword Intent had awareness. It looked at ."
Another silence. This ti heavy.
The veiled woman slowly sat back down, her fingers tapping against the table. Her deanor was now cautious, contemplative.
"The Sword Heart Stage... The Xian Sword Sect hasn’t produced anyone like that publicly in centuries. If he’s truly reached that realm..." she trailed off.
"He’s not a nobody," the rough man finished grimly. "And if he’s with the Hooded Tracker... they’re not just idly wandering. They’re following sothing. They’re on to us."
La Yu nodded once. "We should consider relocating. At the very least, bury this safe house. He was already too close today. If I hadn’t turned back imdiately, I’m certain he would have found ."
The veiled woman’s hand clenched on her lap. "We’ll report this to the higher circles. If this is true, and if he’s already stirring the Ashen Forest with the Tracker’s help... it won’t be long before the Drowned Crescent’s plans are exposed."
The rough man leaned forward, his voice low and tight. "Then we need to strike first. Before he gets too close. Sword Heart Stage or not—he bleeds like the rest of them."
But even as he said that, his eyes weren’t filled with certainty.
They were filled with worry.
Because no matter how dangerous their cult had beco...
The na that now haunted them was not of a sect.
It was of a single man.
Lin Mu.
"Let’s leave, we can’t waste anymore ti." The rough voiced man said as he stepped out first.
The others followed after him and when everyone was outside the house, the rough voiced man raised his hand in a strange seal.
HUALA
A streak of blue and red energy was released from his hand, transforming into a lake that devoured the entire house before sinking into the ground. There was no sign of the house left, only plain ground.
It was as if it never existed.
"Everyone split up and regroup at the base after so ti. Make sure to erase all traces."
But they didn’t know no matter what they did, their fates were already sealed.
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