069 New Party Member?
Hei Mao hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward and wrapping his small arms around his family.
It was warm.
Warmer than he remembered.
The light surrounding them grew brighter and brighter until it consumed everything. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Hei Mao felt whole.
But then—his arms met empty air.
The warmth faded.
And when the light receded, his family was gone.
Hei Mao blinked. He stared at the now-empty space where they had been, then looked down at his own hands. He was still here. He had not moved on with them.
Confused, he turned to Da Wei, the strange man who had helped him. "Why…?"
Da Wei studied him for a moment before shrugging. "Guess you still have unfinished business."
Hei Mao lowered his gaze.
Unfinished business.
Right.
The people in black masks were still out there.
Hei Mao clenched his fists.
He had spent so long clinging to the past, afraid to let go, afraid to be alone. But his family had moved on. And now… maybe it was time he did too.
He turned back to Da Wei.
"Thank you," Hei Mao said.
Da Wei grinned. "No problem. So, where are you going to go now?"
Hei Mao paused, then met Da Wei's gaze with newfound resolve.
"I'm going to find the people who killed my family."
Da Wei tilted his head. "I don't know about revenge, but do you want to come with me?"
Hei Mao's lips parted slightly in surprise. "I… I can't…" His voice trembled. He lowered his gaze. "I'm a dirty ghost…"
Da Wei groaned dramatically and ran a hand through his hair. "How do I put this… Uuuh…" He snapped his fingers. "I think there could be another reason you weren't able to move on."
Hei Mao frowned. "What do you mean?"
Da Wei nodded to himself, then pointed at Hei Mao. "I think it's because of your cultivation."
"…What?"
"Well," Da Wei started, rubbing his chin. "Ghosts sometimes, after death, have so much resentment or spiritual power that they kind of cultivate? Yeah, that's about it. Looking at you right now, I'd say you're about at the Spirit Mystery Realm."
Hei Mao stared blankly.
Da Wei continued, completely unfazed by Hei Mao's silence. "Which is the Fourth Realm, by the way. A pretty decent level, honestly. I don't know how long you've been haunting this place, but it could've been years. Hundreds? Maybe thousands?" He shrugged. "Who knows if you'd even recognize the people responsible for this tragedy?"
Hei Mao stiffened, staring at his hands. They were no longer ghostly and translucent but solid—almost real. He flexed his fingers, feeling a strange warmth coursing through them, a sensation he hadn't felt in…
How long had it been?
His breath hitched—no, he wasn't even breathing. He didn't need to. He was still a ghost. And yet…
"What… What did you do to me?" Hei Mao whispered.
Da Wei rubbed the back of his head, looking a little sheepish. "Ah, yeah… So, you kind of transformed into a Holy Spirit… because of my skill." He gestured vaguely at Hei Mao as if that explained everything.
Hei Mao's gaze snapped up to him. "Holy Spirit?"
Da Wei shrugged. "Don't ask me. Divine Possession and Turn Undead interacted in some way, and boom—you got an upgrade. Congratulations."
Hei Mao clenched his fists. He didn't feel much different. But the oppressive miasma that had surrounded him before was gone. His mind was clearer. "So… what now? What do I do now?"
Da Wei continued, his tone shifting to something softer. "I don't mean to impose, but you're kind of asking the wrong person here." He met Hei Mao's gaze. "What do you want to do?"
Hei Mao hesitated. "…I said I wanted to find the people who killed my family."
Da Wei nodded. "Alright. And what are you going to do once you find them?"
Silence.
Hei Mao hadn't thought that far ahead.
Da Wei tapped his chin. "And what are you going to do in between?"
Hei Mao frowned.
Da Wei smirked. "Let's say finding the people who killed your family is your long-term goal. What's your short-term goal?"
Hei Mao had no answer.
Da Wei knelt before the remains of Hei Mao's family, his expression uncharacteristically serious. He placed a hand over the charred bones and offered a quiet prayer—
Hei Mao flinched as if Da Wei had killed them.
No—he purified them. The faint traces of lingering yin energy in the bones dissipated. There was a sense of finality now.
Da Wei turned back to Hei Mao. "I believe if you come with me, I can help you with your short-term goals." He grinned. "Do you want to cultivate? Learn a few techniques? I mean, I'd love to have a Holy Ghost in my party, but it's not like I'm forcing you."
Hei Mao stared at him.
Da Wei stretched his arms. "And in effect, I can also help you with your long-term goals. So…" He crossed his arms and gave Hei Mao a lopsided smile. "Think about it."
Hei Mao stared at the strange man before him and shook his head. "You are a weird guy."
Da Wei scoffed. "Hey, that's no way to treat your benefactor." He dusted his hands off, finishing up the grave marker he had placed over the remains of Hei Mao's family. "You know what? Maybe I can help you move on. Where are your bones? Where did you die?"
Hei Mao blinked. "Huh?"
Da Wei grinned. "I mean, we can consecrate the whole area if you want. Give you a proper sendoff. Or—" his smile turned almost mischievous—"I can just exorcise you where you stand."
Hei Mao's eyes widened. "I don't want to be exorcised just yet!"
Da Wei chuckled. "Relax, I'm just messing with you."
Hei Mao exhaled—well, at least mimicked the action. He wasn't sure if ghosts actually breathed. "I want to find them. The black-masked people. I want to ask them why they did that to my family." His voice was firm, his fists clenched. "If you can help me with that, then I'm willing to go with you."
Da Wei gave him a considering look. "Alright. That's fair."
Hei Mao nodded, then hesitated. "…For my bones…" He suddenly felt nervous.
Da Wei tilted his head. "Yeah?"
Hei Mao swallowed. "Uuuh… I think I lost them?"
Silence.
Da Wei just stared at him.
Hei Mao shifted uncomfortably. "I mean… It's been a long time! I don't exactly remember where they are."
Da Wei still stared.
Hei Mao felt even more nervous. "I am only human too, you know? Even if I'm all wispy and stuff!"
Da Wei snorted. "Hey, I'm not judging."
Hei Mao stood beside Da Wei in silence, the two of them looking at the makeshift grave marker. What was once a charred ruin of a house had become a resting place—a final farewell.
Da Wei exhaled and clasped his hands together. "May destiny take you to the cycle of reincarnation, may the roads before you be kind, and may you find each other once more in a better life."
Hei Mao squinted at him. "That was a weird prayer."
Da Wei glanced at him, then suddenly reached out and ruffled his hair.
Hei Mao flinched back. "Hey! What the—?! How did you—?!" He swatted Da Wei's hand away, staring at him in shock. Ghosts weren't supposed to be touched!
Da Wei smirked. "Holy Spirit, remember? You're solid enough now. Maybe? I don't really know..."
Hei Mao scowled and fixed his hair. "That doesn't mean you can just—ugh, whatever."
Da Wei chuckled. "I made up that prayer on the fly, but it was sincere." He nodded toward the grave. "You should say one too."
Hei Mao hesitated. He had never been good at prayers. What was there to even say? But under Da Wei's expectant gaze, he sighed and lowered his head.
"…Mom. Dad. Sis." His voice wavered slightly. "I hope… wherever you are, you're happy. I'm sorry I couldn't go with you. But I'll be okay. I promise."
The wind stirred gently, and for a brief moment, Hei Mao thought he felt something warm brush against his cheek. Something soft wrapped around his neck. He flinched, his hands immediately going up to his throat.
A long red scarf—warm, thick, and embroidered with the image of a black cat—draped over his shoulders, covering the wound on his neck. His fingers brushed over the fabric, tracing the delicate stitches.
He turned to Da Wei, who stood there with his usual nonchalant expression. "What—what is this?" Hei Mao asked with a slight panic in his voice.
"A gift," Da Wei said simply.
Hei Mao's grip tightened on the scarf. "…Why?"
Da Wei shrugged. "Because I felt like it." He tilted his head. "Do you like it?"
Hei Mao opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked down at the scarf again, the red fabric stark against his ghostly pale skin. Slowly, hesitantly, he nodded. "…Yeah. I do."
Eight hours later...
Hei Mao sat on a rock, staring at the morning sun, still feeling somewhat flustered. The red scarf around his neck was an unfamiliar weight, both physically and emotionally. He tugged at it absentmindedly.
Surrounding him were three unfamiliar figures, each exuding a distinct presence.
The first was a woman in black, with red snakes stitched along her robes. She carried herself with an edge—sharp eyes, careful movements, and the air of someone who didn't trust easily. She introduced herself curtly: "Gu Jie."
The second was a man with long, messy hair. He wore a gray robe that gave him a somewhat disheveled but carefree look. Unlike Gu Jie, he seemed a little too comfortable, sizing Hei Mao up with open curiosity. "Lu Gao," he said with an aloof expression. "That's my name, Senior. Nice to meet you."
The last was a refined young man in dark, fitted robes. His posture was straight and composed. His gaze was keen, and he studied Hei Mao as if trying to unravel a puzzle. "Ren Xun," he said smoothly, giving a slight nod. "So do you still shit?"
Hei Mao stiffened as all three stared at him with some kind of expectation. There was a strange atmosphere around them, a sense of… reverence?
Then, Lu Gao clapped his hands together, grinning. "We're honored to meet a powerful elder like yourself."
Powerful what? Hei Mao blinked.
Ren Xun looked intrigued. "To think Master Da Wei had such a formidable subordinate hidden away…"
Subordinate? Hei Mao's eye twitched.
Gu Jie, though more reserved, still studied him with wary interest. "I hadn't heard of you before. But considering our Master's eccentricities, I suppose that isn't surprising."
Hei Mao turned his head sharply, eyes locking onto Da Wei.
Da Wei, standing off to the side, met his gaze with a completely unrepentant grin. Slowly, as if adding insult to injury, he raised a thumbs-up in a sneaky manner.
Hei Mao's mouth fell open slightly.
What was this nonsense?!
Hei Mao thought about it… and then decided to ride the wave, straightening his back and lifting his chin ever so slightly. If they wanted to believe he was some mysterious, powerful figure, then who was he to deny them?
"I am Hei Mao," he said in what he hoped was a regal tone. "An… er… friend of Da Wei."
For a brief moment, he felt pleased with himself. Yes, that sounded good.
Then, immediately, he regretted it.
Lu Gao's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Senior Hei Mao, what was your relationship to the Holy Spirit Dai Fu?"
"The… what?" Hei Mao asked, blinking.
Ren Xun stepped in smoothly, his tone full of admiration. "The Holy Spirit Dai Fu, of course. Master Da Wei must have mentioned him to you. A being of great spiritual power and wisdom. Surely, as a fellow spirit of high cultivation, you must have known him."
Hei Mao had never heard that name before in his existence. He carefully nodded, pretending to be deep in thought. "Ah, yes… Dai Fu…"
"Then, is it true?" Gu Jie asked, narrowing her eyes. "That the Holy Spirit Dai Fu once faced the Demon Seal Sect's elder in single combat and won?"
"Uhh… sure?" Hei Mao replied hesitantly.
Before he could even process that conversation, Lu Gao leaned in with another question. "What about your relationship with the Black Clan?"
"The what?" Hei Mao asked, feeling lost again.
"The Black Clan," Ren Xun repeated. "The cultivators who protect the Empire! They lurk in the shadows and hunt in the shadows. They were believed to have vanished centuries ago. Your aura… it feels reminiscent of their teachings."
Hei Mao was starting to sweat—if ghosts could even do that. "Oh, uh… well, you see… the Black Clan and I…" What was he even saying?
Gu Jie's eyes sharpened. "So the rumors are true?"
"Y-yeah?" Hei Mao offered weakly.
His own words were digging him deeper and deeper, and there was no escape.
"And your cultivation?" Ren Xun asked, changing the topic. "At your level, surely you have reached the Sixth Realm?"
Hei Mao almost choked. "The… Fourth Realm," he blurted out. At least, that's what Da Wei had told him earlier.
The trio exchanged glances, nodding in approval as if that explained everything. "The Fourth Realm and already this powerful… as expected."
Hei Mao forced a smile, feeling exhausted just from this conversation. Why were these guys so aggressive? They asked their questions like they were trying to interrogate him for top-secret information.
For a moment, Hei Mao imagined if he actually had the power they assumed he did. He would have struck them where they stood… or maybe… uuh… lightly flicked them? Yeah, that. That sounded better.
Hei Mao had enough.
"No!" he snapped, throwing his hands in the air. "I am the new guy, okay?! Please don't call me senior! My name is Hei Mao! And no, I don't know any techniques! I also don't have any powerful backing! I'm just a stray ghost that the weird guy picked up!"
Silence.
Gu Jie covered her mouth, shoulders shaking as she suppressed a chuckle. Lu Gao looked serious, but a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. Ren Xun chuckled a bit too obviously before retreating into the tent.
Da Wei, on the other hand, didn't hold back at all. "Ha ha ha ha~! You should have seen your face!"
Hei Mao pouted. "You are so mean."
Ren Xun returned from the tent, holding a small bracelet. He sighed and handed it over. "I don't know what's really happening, but orders are orders. Please don't hold it against me, Mr. Hei. Master Da Wei told us to do it."
Hei Mao blinked, taking the bracelet. A jade magatama hung from it, polished and cool to the touch.
"Gifts from us," Gu Jie clarified. "I've received so much from Master, so this is a small thing." She hesitated before handing over a scroll. "Sorry, this is the best I can do, and it's a bit improper. I don't think Master would mind, so here it is… This is a Scroll of Invisibility. Something Master gave me before."
Lu Gao pulled something from his robes and handed over a ring. "This is my old storage ring. There's nothing in it, but the ring itself should be useful to you. I can just buy a new one if I… ever regain my cultivation."
Ren Xun snorted. "That's some tough flexing."
Hei Mao stared at the gifts in his hands. "It's… too much."
Da Wei nodded sagely. "Yeah, it's too much."
Hei Mao snapped his head up. "W-what?"
Da Wei grinned. "Just to clarify, I told them to prank you a bit, but the gifting part? That was wholly their idea. Why did they do it? I dunno…"
Gu Jie coughed awkwardly. "We were carried away, Master… that's all."
070 Ren Xun's Thoughts
Ren Xun knew Gu Jie was right. They had gotten carried away. He had gotten carried away.
He had only given the bracelet with the little jade magatama to look good in front of the Master. A small token, nothing too extravagant—just enough to leave a good impression. But then Gu Jie had to go and one-up him, pulling out a magical scroll like it was nothing. And Lu Gao? That guy went completely over the top, gifting a storage ring. A storage ring.
It was overkill. Completely unnecessary.
Ren Xun had expected Hei Mao to react with awe at Lu Gao's gift or maybe marvel at Gu Jie's scroll. Instead, the boy—this strange boy with powerful cultivation who was just as odd as Da Wei—clutched the bracelet Ren Xun had given him and said, "I like the bracelet the most."
Ren Xun blinked. What?
Of all the gifts, the bracelet was the most useless. A simple trinket. Nothing special. It didn't even have any practical function! The scroll granted invisibility. The storage ring could hold an entire armory's worth of items. But the bracelet? Just decoration.
Hei Mao looked up at him with starry eyes, his expression full of gratitude. Ren Xun shifted uncomfortably under the attention.
Then, as if suddenly realizing he might be sidelining the others, Hei Mao quickly added, "Of course, I loved the gifts from you too, Gu Jie, Lu Gao… Thank you!"
Gu Jie chuckled, amused. Lu Gao just smirked.
Ren Xun sighed internally. He had been trying to impress Master Da Wei, but somehow, he had ended up impressing Hei Mao instead.
"You are welcome, little Mao. We appreciate you liked our gifts!"
Ren Xun knew he shouldn't be here.
The reason for his presence wasn't camaraderie, nor was it some newfound sense of belonging. He was here to spy. To observe. To report back. To make sure that Master Da Wei wouldn't accidentally annihilate a Sect loyal to the Empire.
There was no delusion in his mind—he wasn't here to make friends. If he performed to his father's satisfaction, he might finally secure his engagement to Lin Lim. 'The life I envisioned for myself…' A comfortable one. A life where he wouldn't have to worry about the expectations of being a cultivator or royalty.
Because Ren Xun wasn't one. Not really.
At heart, he knew what he was.
A wastrel, an untalented cultivator, a man born into a world of martial prowess without the ability to carve a place in it. He had long given up on that path. Instead, he honed a different skill—the art of words. He had learned how to talk his way out of things, how to feign sincerity, how to deflect prying eyes, especially when he was playing hooky.
And right now, he was ingratiating himself shamelessly.
He offered Hei Mao a warm, knowing smile and gestured toward the bracelet. "The magatama represents good fortune," he explained smoothly. "It's a ward against evil, symbolically speaking. Keep it always on your side and even ghosts will flee you!"
"Really?" Hei Mao's eyes flickered with interest, fingers brushing over the small jade charm. His cultivation was impressive, that much was clear, but at the end of the day, he was still a boy. Curious. Easily swayed by meaning.
"It might not be as grand as a storage ring or a magic scroll, but sometimes, the simplest things hold the greatest value," said Ren Xun.
Ren Xun watched as Gu Jie carefully brought out the bowlfish—Ren Jingyi, their so-called "companion." The tiny goldfish stared up at Hei Mao with wide, unblinking eyes, her mouth opening and closing like a dullard trying to form words.
"This is Ren Jingyi," Gu Jie introduced with an uncharacteristically serious expression.
Hei Mao blinked, then suddenly burst into laughter.
Ren Xun arched a brow. "What's so funny?"
Hei Mao wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling. "She just made a joke!" He pointed at Ren Jingyi, looking utterly delighted. "That's her gift to me!"
Ren Xun kept his expression smooth, though internally, he was biting back every cynical remark that came to mind.
Then, as if a realization struck him, Hei Mao's eyes widened. "Wait—" He looked between them all in growing amazement. "I can talk to fish!"
Ren Xun sighed through his nose, pressing a finger to his temple. No shit.
There was no denying it anymore—this boy was just as weird as Master Da Wei.
Da Wei strolled over, smoothly inserting himself into the conversation as he scooped up the bowlfish.
"Hmm," Da Wei mused, tilting the bowl slightly to get a better look at Ren Jingyi. "Probably the effect of Hei Mao's constitution as a Holy Spirit. Maybe? I can't tell..."
Again, that term.
Ren Xun resisted the urge to frown. Holy Spirit. He'd never heard of it before, not in the texts, not in court, not even in the obscure cultivation manuals he'd skimmed while pretending to study. A lot of terms the Master used were unfamiliar.
Lu Gao, on the other hand, was focused on something else entirely. "The goldfish gained the spark?" he asked, blinking in genuine surprise. "Huh? I am kind of surprised and not surprised at the same time."
The spark. Now that was a term Ren Xun knew—an old concept referring to the hidden wisdom present in all living beings, a sign of potential intelligence beyond mere instinct.
Gu Jie crossed her arms. "She doesn't seem that smart."
Lu Gao turned to her, affronted. "She's plenty smart! She can cast Bless, can't she?"
Ren Xun barely concealed his amusement. After all, Lu Gao was treating a goldfish as his rival.
Truly, this group was beyond salvation.
Da Wei crouched next to the bowl, talking to the goldfish like a madman.
"Come on, little one. Say something. Anything," he coaxed, tapping lightly on the glass. "You talked to Hei Mao, didn't you? Why not me? I'm your Master—" He cut himself off, gasping dramatically. "Wait. Don't tell me… you're broken?!"
Ren Xun resisted the urge to sigh. Master Da Wei, the ever-dignified cultivator… was arguing with a fish.
Lu Gao walked over and leaned down to stare at the goldfish in silent judgment. Meanwhile, Da Wei had started feeding Ren Jingyi small bits of lettuce, as if bribing her would earn her favor.
Hei Mao became the reluctant interpreter and relayed, "Uh… She's tired of lettuce."
Da Wei shot him a betrayed look. "What?!"
"She says she's sick of it," Hei Mao added.
Da Wei turned back to Ren Jingyi with wide eyes, utterly scandalized. "Then why didn't you say anything?! I've been giving you lettuce for days!"
Ren Xun observed the exchange with mild interest. By now, he assumed Da Wei was using Qi Speech to communicate with the fish, but if that were the case, it clearly wasn't working.
Da Wei narrowed his eyes. "Wait. Hei Mao, why isn't she talking to me?"
Hei Mao hesitated for a moment before sighing. "She's, um… disappointed in herself for not being able to meet your expectations. And, uh… she's a bit shy."
Silence.
Da Wei pressed a hand to his chest, looking as though he'd been personally wounded. "Jingyi, my dear, I never had expectations. You just have to be yourself, okay?"
The fish didn't respond.
Da Wei groaned. "Unbelievable."
Lu Gao looked at Hei Mao. "Ask her what she wants to eat."
Hei Mao translated. After a brief pause, he looked up and said, "Anything but lettuce."
Gu Jie turned to Ren Xun with an inquiring look. "Can we make a detour?"
Ren Xun arched a brow at her before shrugging. "Depends where." Without another word, he hopped onto the Floating Dragon and moved to the control panel, fingers dancing over the instruments as he examined the radar.
At the far edge of the map, a cluster of messy, multicolored dots indicated a city. The chaotic blend of hues represented the five elements—Earth, Fire, Water, Wood, and Metal—signaling a bustling settlement with a variety of people, cultivators, and businesses.
Peering over the edge of the boat, he shouted back to the group, "There's a city nearby! It won't hurt our schedule if we make a detour. If we're lucky, we might even get to stay in a nice inn."
Da Wei, who had been wholly engrossed in feeding Ren Jingyi, barely glanced up. "Sure, why not?" he said lazily, as if granting divine permission. He then pulled out an expensive-looking herb from seemingly nowhere and held it over the fishbowl, inspecting it with great interest before dropping it in.
Ren Xun watched in muted horror as the rare herb—one that would sell for a small fortune—sank into the water like fish food. His eye twitched.
Ridiculous.
While Da Wei and Hei Mao played around with the fish, Ren Xun, Lu Gao, and Gu Jie got to work packing up the rest of the camp. They moved efficiently, accustomed to breaking camp in a timely manner, though Ren Xun couldn't help but cast the occasional glance at the truly absurd sight of Master Da Wei fussing over a goldfish.
He tightened the straps on a pack and huffed. Must be nice having high cultivation.
Scratch that.
Must be nice being the fish.
Ren Xun leaped onto the Floating Dragon, his movements practiced and precise. The deck barely creaked beneath his weight as he landed.
Behind him, Gu Jie followed suit—except she wasn't alone. She carried Lu Gao effortlessly, one arm hooked under his back and the other under his knees.
Lu Gao, despite being a proud young master, dangled in her grasp like a sack of rice. His face was stiff with embarrassment. "This is humiliating," he muttered under his breath.
Gu Jie, unbothered, dropped him onto the deck with minimal effort. "You're welcome."
Lu Gao grumbled but dusted himself off. "…Thank you."
Without further delay, the three of them moved in unison to prepare for departure. Ren Xun focused on unhooking the Floating Dragon from the surrounding landscape, removing the sturdy ropes and talismans anchoring it to trees and dirt. Gu Jie and Lu Gao worked alongside him, their motions quick and efficient.
Once the ship was freed, Ren Xun stepped over to the side of the deck and reached for the anchor. Gripping the thick chain, he hauled it up with a grunt, feeling the strain in his arms. It took a moment, but with a final pull, the anchor was secured.
He peered over the edge of the boat and called out, "Master Da Wei! We're ready to set off. If we maintain speed, we should reach the next city in two to three hours."
Da Wei secured Ren Jingyi's bowl with one hand and grabbed Hei Mao by the collar with the other. "Alright, time to go," he said cheerfully, before bending his knees and leaping onto the deck with ease. Hei Mao let out a startled yelp, flailing mid-air before landing with a thud.
Ren Xun placed his hands on the control panel.
The Floating Dragon was an extension of himself—its formations, its flight, all tethered to him through a spiritual connection. With a simple thought, he could activate or deactivate its many features, from basic flight controls to the more advanced defensive mechanisms.
Still, it wouldn't hurt to be a bit showy. He tapped a few runes on the panel, adjusting the settings with an exaggerated air of focus. It made him look hardworking if nothing else.
A soft pulse ran through the deck as the ship responded, lifting slightly off the ground. Ren Xun smirked to himself. He might not be the strongest cultivator, but he had his talents.
As he checked the ship's status, his gaze landed on the invisibility formation. It had fully recharged overnight, meaning they could stay hidden for a full week if needed. A convenient but expensive feature—his spiritual stones were dwindling fast.
He turned to Da Wei, calling out over his shoulder. "Master Da Wei, do you want me to activate the invisibility formation?"
"I'll leave it to your discretion," answered the Master.
Ren Xun frowned slightly, thinking it over. That sounded like a test.
Did they need to stay hidden? It wasn't as if they were being pursued. Using the formation now would be a waste of resources. He tapped his fingers against the controls before finally deciding against it. No need to squander precious stones on paranoia.
Instead, he focused on maneuvering the Floating Dragon, smoothly lifting them into the sky. The landscape below shrank as they ascended, the wind picking up around them.
Unbeknownst to him, he was probably just overthinking…
071 Ironmoor City
The Floating Dragon hovered above the treetops, circling the outskirts of the city like a hawk sizing up its prey. From my vantage point on the deck, I got my first look at Ironmoor City. The name fit. The entire place looked like it had been hammered out of the earth itself—tall, grim stone walls reinforced with streaks of dark iron, squat buildings packed tightly together, and a web of narrow streets winding between them like cracks in a boulder. Smoke curled from dozens of chimneys, blending into the grayish haze that hung over the city. Even in the early morning, the streets bustled with movement.
Ren Xun stood near the control panel, eyes sharp as he scanned the horizon.
"Ironmoor City," he announced, hands resting on the wheel. "Originally a mining settlement, but it grew into a trade hub thanks to the iron veins running deep beneath it. The city's got a reputation for being rough, but it's orderly enough. The local sect keeps a tight grip on things—Black Anvil Sect, known for their craftsmanship and, well, their tempers. They control the forges and set the prices on iron and steel. You want quality weapons, you go to Ironmoor."
He adjusted the ship's altitude, lowering us slightly. "The market district is right near the main gate, easy to spot from up here. Beyond that, you've got the Black Anvil Sect's compound taking up a huge chunk of the city's western quarter. There's also an arena in the center—fighters from all over come here to test their skills, settle disputes, or just put on a show."
I leaned over the railing, watching the streets below. "Sounds lively."
Ren Xun snorted. "Lively is one word for it. Dangerous is another. If you know the right people, you can find almost anything here, but the Black Anvil Sect doesn't take kindly to troublemakers. They don't bother with formal trials. If you break their rules, you get exiled, beaten, or buried."
That was good to know. Not that I planned to cause trouble.
"So," I said, "where's the best place to eat?"
Ren Xun gave me a flat look. "Senior, with all due respect, do you ever think about anything besides food?"
I grinned. "Of course. But food is still a top priority."
Lu Gao let out a chuckle. "There's a famous tavern near the market called The Iron Kettle... or so I've heard. They serve Black Iron Stew—said to put hair on your chest and steel in your bones. Never tried it myself, but I hear it's a favorite among the miners and blacksmiths."
I nodded approvingly. "Sounds promising."
Gu Jie, who had been silent until now, leaned against the railing, her gaze fixed on the streets below. "We should be careful," she said. "The Black Anvil Sect won't be the only power here. There are mercenary groups, rogue cultivators, and traders with too much greed and not enough sense in the world. I knew that for a fact. If we're not careful, we might find ourselves entangled in something we don't want to be part of."
Hei Mao looked uncertain. "So... should we go in disguised?"
Ren Xun smirked. "That depends. Do you want to cause a scene or slip in unnoticed?"
I clapped my hands together. "Let's get a closer look first. No need to rush in blind."
Ren Xun nodded and adjusted the controls.
Lu Gao whistled low as we approached Ironmoor walls. "I heard stories about this place, but damn... I didn't think the walls would be this high."
He wasn't wrong. The city was surrounded by an imposing black stone wall, easily five times my height, reinforced with dark iron plating at key points. The whole thing looked more like a fortress than a trade hub. Watchtowers loomed at even intervals, each manned by armed sentries, and beyond the walls, the city stretched out in a mess of squat, sturdy buildings packed tightly together.
Ren Xun was standing at the helm. He glanced back at us. "That's because the city isn't just protected by its walls. It's policed by Black Clan cultivators. There is prestige to this city in a sense."
Gu Jie raised a brow. "Black Clan? And what's their connection to the Black Anvil Sect?"
Ren Xun scoffed. "It's in the name, isn't it? Black Anvil Sect—Black Clan. The sect isn't just a group of blacksmiths and fighters; they're the Black Clan's enforcers in this region or the closest thing to it. The two are practically one and the same."
That explained a lot. The iron grip on the city, the no-nonsense reputation, the fact that they didn't tolerate troublemakers. It wasn't just a sect throwing its weight around—it had the backing of an actual Imperial House.
I turned back to Ren Xun. "Have you been here before?"
"Twice," he admitted. "This is my third time."
I filed that away for later. Ren Xun had connections in more places than he let on. Well, he was the second son of an imperial prince, so I shouldn't be too surprised.
Eventually, Ren Xun guided the Floating Dragon to a halt just outside the city walls. We weren't the only ones with a flying vessel—several other floating boat-like artifacts were docked nearby, their hulls shimmering with defensive formations. Armed men and women stood guard around them. Some wore uniforms I didn't recognize, but Ren Xun pointed out a few uniformed cultivators.
"The local militia," he said. "They help keep the peace, but only when it's convenient."
I was about to ask what that meant when a trio of cultivators on flying swords approached. They hovered in the air for a moment, then slowly descended until they were floating adjacent to our ship. Their leader, a man with a thick beard and an impatient expression, called out in a firm tone.
"Calm down. This is standard protocol."
His two subordinates landed beside him, their swords sheathed, but their presence was anything but relaxed. I could tell they were used to throwing their weight around.
I activated Voice Chat and sent a quick message to Ren Xun. "I'll leave this to you."
Ren Xun's response was immediate. "Affirmative."
With an easy, confident stride, he walked up to the trio of guards and cupped his fists in a respectful salute. "Honored Ironmoor guards, I am Ren Xun, captain of this fine vessel. How may I be of service?"
He delivered the words with the kind of flamboyant flourish that made me want to roll my eyes, but it did its job. The bearded cultivator nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Inspection."
Ren Xun smiled. "Of course. By all means, inspect away."
The bearded guard gave us a long, appraising look. "Business or pleasure?"
Ren Xun grinned. "Depends."
The guard's eyes narrowed.
Ren Xun chuckled and relented. "We're here to resupply. Our final destination is the Imperial Capital."
"Tourists," the guard muttered with a snide twist of his lips.
One of the other guards was scribbling on a piece of paper, barely paying attention to the conversation. Curious, I glanced at what he was writing. It wasn't just a log—he was making annotations. He'd sketched a crude diagram of our boat and was jotting down the number of people inside.
My eyes flicked to the other boats. The merchants must love this place, judging by the number of times "merchant" was ticked on that paper.
Trade in this world was an interesting thing. Unlike in LLO, where merchants needed massive caravans, storage rings changed the game entirely. Yeah, Item Box existed in LLO, but they were something a mere NPC would never be able to have. A single trader in this world could theoretically carry an entire shop's worth of goods in a small ring on their finger.
I let my Divine Sense extend outward, scanning the adjacent boats. As expected, all of them had some level of cultivation. Some were minor, barely at the first realm, but a few carried the weight of seasoned fighters. The presence of boats made more sense now. It wasn't about the merchants themselves—it was about accommodating the guards they hired.
The second guard, the one still jotting notes, glanced up and said, "You should check out the market for weapons. Might find something useful." Then, with a smirk, he added, "Maybe even hire some guards."
Yeah, right. In his Qi Sense, we must have looked like chumps.
But then their leader turned his gaze to Hei Mao. The other two followed suit.
And just like that, their entire attitude shifted.
The leader of the guards immediately cupped his fists and bowed. "Young Master."
The other two followed, their backs straighter, their expressions now full of restrained deference.
I expected them to recognize him—Hei Mao was a walking anomaly—but I didn't anticipate this level of ass-kissing. There was only one explanation.
They had no idea who he was.
They just knew what he was.
Hei Mao's Fourth Realm cultivation must have rattled them. These guards were strong, but not that strong. One was Third Realm, the other two were Second Realm. To them, Hei Mao wasn't just some wandering traveler—he was a monstrous genius. A prodigy who could crush them with a flick of his wrist.
Or maybe it was his features. He shared the same surname as the Black Clan. Combined with his level of cultivation, it wasn't strange these guards might have misunderstood his origins.
It wasn't like Hei Mao's nature as a ghost was that obvious, after all.
I used Voice Chat to warn him. "Don't tell them your name."
Hei Mao, to his credit, didn't even flinch. He simply returned the bow and said, "You're doing good work. The city's security is in capable hands."
The guards puffed up a little at the compliment, nodding in satisfaction.
"Just want to clarify something, but…" Ren Xun squinted at the city gates. "What's up with that? Why are they closed? Last time I was here, while the boat inspection was pretty much mandatory, I don't remember the gates being closed in this time of the day."
The leader of the guards straightened his back. "Ironmoor City is on high alert."
That immediately set off alarms in my head.
"A Demonic cultivator and a Buddhist fanatic have been stirring up trouble for the Abyssal Clans and some affiliated sects," the guard continued. "Until the situation is under control, all entrants need a permit in advance."
I exchanged a glance with Ren Xun. That was an odd combination—demonic cultivators and Buddhist fanatics weren't exactly known for getting along. Even I knew that. But I wasn't about to pry when the guards were already being cooperative.
The leader of the guards nodded reassuringly. "That said, we can expedite the process for you."
I had a strong suspicion that was thanks to Hei Mao's presence.
"The boat has to remain outside," the guard added. "But with your permission, we can post a guard here."
Ren Xun cupped his fists and offered a respectful nod. "We appreciate the generosity."
One of the other guards produced a small, official-looking document and handed it to Ren Xun. "Just show this to the gate guards, and they'll let you through."
Simple enough.
The guards finally departed, one of them assuring us that they'd send someone to watch over the boat. Ren Xun handled the formalities rather competently. The kid might have been a self-proclaimed wastrel, but he knew how to work a situation.
Gu Jie turned to me. "Master, permission to investigate and arrange a room while we wait here?"
I nodded. "Go ahead."
Summoning Dave for backup wouldn't hurt. I raised a hand and activated Summon: Holy Spirit. A golden light pulsed, and Dave materialized beside me, standing tall in his knightly armor.
"Dave, go with her," I instructed.
Gu Jie cupped her fists and bowed in my direction. "Understood."
Dave performed a knight's salute, thumping his chest. "By your will, My Lord."
Gu Jie retrieved the permit from Ren Xun. "How long is this good for?" she asked.
Ren Xun shrugged. "The permit's reusable within the day, so no problem there. You can come back and pick us up at your leisure."
"Good," I said. "While you're at it, keep an ear out for any cultivators using black masks."
Hei Mao perked up. "I'll go too!"
I gave him a look. "No."
He deflated a little but didn't argue.
Before she left, I added, "If there's an emergency, feel free to rely on Dave."
Gu Jie nodded. "Of course."
With that, she and Dave finally left for the city, disappearing past the gates.
072 Signs of Trouble
Ironmoor City loomed before them, its towering black iron walls exuding an oppressive weight. Within, the streets bustled with merchants, artisans, and wandering cultivators. The air carried the thick scent of molten metal, punctuated by the rhythmic clang of forges.
Gu Jie led the way, her steps steady and unhurried. Dave followed closely behind, clad in full armor—helm to greaves, polished to a mirror sheen. He was here as a bodyguard, and his mere presence should be enough to dissuade unwanted attention. Unlike his lord, he was a Holy Spirit. That alone would make most think twice before provoking him.
Or, as his lord had put it, his aura was brimming with Buddhist principles—or something along those lines.
As they moved through the crowd, a voice echoed in his mind.
"How fares Ironmoor City?"
Dave blinked behind his visor.
"Oh, good, the Voice Chat works at long distances. I'll need to test its full range later... But that's not the point. Can you hear me, Dave?"
Dave responded at once.
"Yes, My Lord."
Gu Jie gave him a sidelong glance. "What is it?"
His lord's voice returned.
"A reminder—cause no trouble. If you witness anything that violates our oath, report to me at once."
Dave gave a slight nod. "Yes, My Lord."
Turning to Gu Jie, he relayed the message.
She smirked, tucking the permit into her sleeve. "Understood."
Ironmoor City was a city of iron and stone, where the strong dictated the law. Black-robed cultivators patrolled the towers lining the inner walls, their swords gleaming under the pale sun. The streets were paved with dark iron slabs that clanked underfoot, and the forges roared ceaselessly, sending plumes of thick smoke into the sky.
Unlike Yellow Dragon City, which carried the air of sectarian refinement, Ironmoor City was a war camp in all but name. Even the common folk walked with wary steps, their gazes sharp, ever mindful of those who carried weapons.
Dave remained silent as he followed Gu Jie. He had seen many cities like this—places where power dictated survival. Nothing here was unfamiliar to him.
After some time, Gu Jie finally spoke. "Senior, I'd like your counsel."
Dave turned his helmeted head slightly toward her. "I defer to your judgment."
She arched a brow. "Come now, humor me."
He considered her request before answering. "If it were me, I'd linger in taverns and listen. Drunken men speak freely. If something truly dangerous was afoot—beyond my means to handle—I'd leave the city and seek safer ground."
Gu Jie chuckled. "That was my plan from the start."
She glanced ahead, her voice quieting. "Master Da Wei… he is family to me."
Dave said nothing, merely listening.
Gu Jie continued, her voice softer but firm. "Master is invincible, but I am merely a weak woman. Even so, I wish to aid him. To protect him. To safeguard him. The heart, after all... is a fragile thing."
She halted and turned to face him fully. "Even the Heavenly Demon, thought to be undying, perished despite his rumored immortality arts. What of Master? He may be stronger, but strength alone does not shield one from folly. What does that tell us of his past? Uuuh… Apologies, Senior… I was lost in my thoughts…"
Dave regarded her through the narrow slit of his helmet. After a pause, he said, "His Lordship is not the Heavenly Demon."
Gu Jie nodded. "I know."
"But," Dave continued, "I agree with your views. Even if our strength is meager, we must protect His Lordship."
It was both truth and a challenge. A reminder.
Dave was not blind. He knew Gu Jie cared for their master. But caring and committing were not the same. Was she willing to stand as a shield? To accept what came with devotion?
For all her bravado, had she truly resolved herself?
Gu Jie tilted her head slightly. "Senior," she began, shifting from the solemnity of the previous topic, "why do you always call Master 'His Lordship'? Are you a noble? Is he a noble? That would explain his mischief, his eccentricities… perhaps even his upbringing."
Dave frowned beneath his helmet. The question caught him off guard. "A noble?" He considered the word. "Not in the way you mean. But I do not disagree with your assessment."
Gu Jie raised an eyebrow. "Then what do you mean?"
Dave was silent for a moment, choosing his words with care. "His Lordship is noble, yes. But more than that… He is my Faith." His voice carried an unshakable conviction. "He is the closest thing I will ever have to a God in a godless world."
Gu Jie blinked at him, digesting his words. "That's… a lot to place on one person."
Dave exhaled, the motion barely noticeable beneath his heavy armor. "Perhaps." His thoughts drifted to the past. The Lost Gods. The irony of that title had never escaped him.
At times, he wondered—was the Voice that guided all immortal champions truly a singular entity? Were their whispers from one unseen, unknowable being… or merely echoes of many?
Gu Jie did not press further. Instead, she lifted a hand and pointed ahead. "There."
Dave followed her gaze to a sturdy, two-story building reinforced with iron-plated walls. A large wooden sign hung above the entrance—Iron Kettle. The scent of roasted meat and spiced ale drifted from within, mingling with the ever-present tang of metal that permeated Ironmoor City.
"A tavern?" Dave asked.
Gu Jie nodded. "Seems like there's an inn attached, too. If luck favors us, we can handle both matters at once—gathering information and securing a place to stay."
Dave studied the building a moment longer before nodding. "Then let's proceed."
Without another word, they stepped inside.
The tavern was alive with sound—gruff laughter, murmured conversations, the occasional sharp bark of a merchant haggling over prices. The air was thick with the scent of sizzling meat and frothy ale, undercut by the omnipresent iron tang that clung to everything in this city.
Gu Jie moved through the crowd with ease, weaving between tables like she had walked such streets all her life. Dave followed. His full armor turned more than a few heads, but no one dared approach. There was an unspoken rule in places like this—if someone looked like trouble, you left them alone unless you were prepared to deal with the consequences.
Reaching the counter, Gu Jie slid a few coins to the barkeep—a burly man with a thick scar running from brow to chin.
"Two mugs of ale."
The barkeep grunted, pouring two foaming mugs from a massive keg before pushing them across the counter. "Enjoy."
Gu Jie nudged one toward Dave. "Here."
He hesitated, staring at the wooden mug for a long moment before finally picking it up. The scent of barley and hops hit him first, followed by the bitter tang of strong brew.
He took a sip—
—and nostalgia struck like a hammer to the chest.
He stilled.
The tavern was one thing.
But The Tavern…
For the first time in a long while, Dave felt something close to longing. The warmth of a hearth, the boisterous camaraderie of warriors sharing tales of battle, the unshakable sense of belonging.
He would be lying if he said he didn't miss home.
"Something wrong?" Gu Jie asked, noticing his pause.
Dave set the mug down and shook his head. "No… just memories."
Gu Jie took a sip from her own mug, humming in thought. "Funny. I didn't think spirits had nostalgia."
"Even spirits remember where they came from," Dave murmured.
Around them, conversation ebbed and flowed, whispers carrying through the smoky air.
"Did you hear? The Black Anvil Sect is doubling their security. Something about a thief."
"That demonic cultivator they're talking about—some say she's not alone. That Buddhist freak might be working with her."
"Abyssal Clan ships were seen docked near the southern piers. Think they're here for business or trouble?"
"I tell ya, those black-masked bastards give me the creeps. Walkin' around like ghosts, never speaking unless they have to."
Dave stilled.
Black-masked bastards?
His senses sharpened as he sifted through the noise. Across from him, Gu Jie did the same, fingers lightly tapping her mug as she absorbed the scattered rumors.
Eventually, she smirked. "Well, looks like we came to the right place."
Dave gave a slight nod, lifting his mug again.
Gu Jie leaned in slightly, her voice lowering. "I'll be back. Gonna scurry around and interact with the local rats."
Dave raised a brow beneath his helmet. "And your safety?"
Gu Jie smirked. "I can handle myself just fine. And if things go south, I'll make a run for it. I still have a magic scroll."
Dave studied her for a moment, then sighed. Lifting a hand, he let a soft light radiate from his fingertips. A faint shimmer settled over Gu Jie before vanishing a second later.
She blinked. "A Blessing?"
"A little insurance."
Gu Jie grinned, patting her chest. "Appreciate it." Then, without hesitation, she grabbed her mug and downed the rest in one go, slamming it onto the table with a satisfied sigh.
And just like that, she was gone—disappearing into the back of the tavern.
Dave leaned back in his seat, exhaling slowly. His gaze swept the room, watching, listening. For now, he would wait.
Then, he heard it.
"…slave market opening tonight. Got a few rare breeds, even one with a bloodline."
Dave's fingers clenched around his mug.
His presence dimmed. His heartbeat slowed.
And then, through the tether of Voice Chat, he reached out.
"My Lord, I have news."
A beat of silence. Then—"What is it?"
"There is a slave market opening tonight."
His Lordship exhaled on the other end. The voice that returned was even, but beneath it lay the weight of restraint.
"We can't do anything about them. They're enforced by the estate."
Dave lowered his head slightly. The ale in his mouth turned bitter—not from the brew, but from the truth of those words.
Back home, this wasn't the first time Dave had encountered something like this.
There were always things beyond His Lordship's reach, beyond his own. No matter how much strength His Lordship gained, some things were tangled in the very roots of the world itself.
Dave and His Lordship were merely visitors in this land. Outsiders.
And yet…
Dave pressed a silent prayer in his heart—selfish in its nature.
Let us not cross paths with this slave trade.
Because if they did—if His Lordship saw it firsthand—
No. He knew what would happen.
For all his eccentricities, for all his detached sensibilities, His Lordship was a kind soul. A soul that neither sought insult nor demanded respect.
But when it came to cruelty?
His Lordship had never been one to turn a blind eye.
And Dave knew, with unsettling certainty, that if something unsightly were to unfold before them, His Lordship would not hesitate to act.
And then there would be war.
In this strange world, where they were outnumbered beyond measure, Dave understood what that meant. If it came to the worst-case scenario—it would be them against the world.
A shift in the air pulled him from his thoughts.
He turned his head at the sound of approaching footsteps. Gu Jie weaved through the crowd, her expression sharp and set. She reached their table, barely sparing a glance at the half-finished mugs before speaking.
"Let's go."
Dave blinked. "What's the plan?"
"We are leaving. I got what we came for." Gu Jie patted her storage ring—a recent gift from Jiang Zhen. "Bought all kinds of greens the fish might like. Finished my own investigations, too."
Dave didn't question it. If there was one thing he had learned from this group, it was that priorities could be odd. He stood, following her as she briskly exited the Iron Kettle.
Something was off.
Dave quickened his pace to match hers. "What's wrong?"
Gu Jie exhaled sharply. "I overheard something."
Dave remained silent, letting her continue.
"There are confirmed reports of demonic cultivators infiltrating the Abyssal Clans." Her voice was low, cautious. "If that's true, we're better off leaving. Now."
Dave frowned. "Are the Abyssal Clans so different from the major clans? I thought they didn't get along with demonic cultivators?"
"They don't." Gu Jie's eyes flicked around as they walked, her tone steady. "The Abyssal Clans may practice what others find grotesque—grave-robbing, soul studies, necromancy—but they still follow strict laws. The Empire permits their dark arts, but only within certain limits."
"And the Black Clan enforces those limits."
Gu Jie nodded. "Exactly. If demonic cultivators have slipped through the cracks, it means things are about to get very messy. If the Black Clan gets involved, it won't be a fight we want to be caught in."
Dave's gaze swept the street. No immediate sign of trouble, yet the weight of tension pressed against his instincts.
He exhaled, adjusting his gauntlets. "Understood. Let's get out of here."
Without another word, they moved—quick, but controlled. Two figures slipping through the streets of Ironmoor City, leaving its dangers behind.
Or so that would have been the case…
The usual city murmur carried a tension beneath it—an unease that had not been there before. The way merchants packed their stalls earlier than usual, the way cultivators cast furtive glances toward the sky, and most tellingly, the increased presence of uniformed guards patrolling the streets.
Dave had seen this kind of shift before.
Something had happened.
By the time they neared the city gates, the problem became clear.
A line had formed. Not the usual slow trickle of people leaving a city, but something far more unnatural. Travelers stood in clusters, whispering in hushed tones. Some fidgeted with nervous energy, while others—especially those in robes of authority—looked frustrated at the delay.
At the front, armed guards blocked the gates, their spears crossed.
A large notice had been nailed to the iron-plated walls beside them.
[By Order of the City Lord – MARTIAL LAW IS IN EFFECT. No One May Leave Until Further Notice.]
Gu Jie stopped just short of the line. Dave did the same, his stance shifting slightly.
Troublesome.
Gu Jie clicked her tongue, folding her arms. "Just our luck."
Dave's gaze moved to the guards. They were disciplined, standing rigid and unwavering. These weren't common city enforcers—they had the air of trained cultivators. Black iron armor reinforced their bodies, and their weapons were lined with inscriptions. Wards, perhaps. Defensive measures.
"Trouble?" Dave murmured.
"Big trouble, if they've shut down a trade city like this." Gu Jie tilted her head. "I got nothing from my Sixth Sense though… but we'd definitely be in trouble and mired with weeks' worth of misfortune if we don't cooperate."
Martial law wasn't something imposed lightly. Not in a place like Ironmoor, where wealth flowed in and out like a tide. For the city lord to issue such an order…
Something had forced his hand.
Demonic cultivators? The Abyssal Clans? The Black Anvil Sect?
Too many variables.
A cloaked traveler ahead of them in line turned to grumble to his companion.
"Damned city lord must've lost his mind. This'll ruin businesses!"
"Shh!" His friend hushed him. "Didn't you hear? The city lord's son was attacked. Poisoned, they say. Barely survived. Lots of important people dying recently…"
Dave and Gu Jie exchanged glances.
Poison?
It didn't fit with the earlier whispers about demonic cultivators. Assassination through poison was an entirely different method—one that belonged to a different kind of enemy.
Gu Jie lowered her voice. "Well, this complicates things."
"Agreed," Dave said. He glanced back at the crowded city behind them. "Do we turn back?"
Gu Jie tapped her chin, considering. Then, with a small, sly smirk, she shook her head. "No. We get out. One way or another."
Dave had a feeling she was going to say that.
After all, Gu Jie still had a Magic Scroll of Great Teleportation. However, Dave was unsure how the scroll would interact with the spell formation surrounding the city. Though he couldn't perceive it as well as His Lordship, he knew they existed, wrapping around Ironmoor.
However, before he could even dissuade Gu Jie, she tensed and started retching…
Gu Jie had been composed and calculating—her usual self. But then, something changed. Her smirk faded, her fingers tensed ever so slightly within her sleeves. She composed herself with a little effort, but it was unmistakable... She was still shaken...
Dave had fought alongside enough warriors to recognize when someone had sensed a threat before it arrived. It was like watching a veteran swordsman pause mid-step, just as an unseen blade whistled toward their back.
His grip on his gauntlets tightened. What did she feel?
Her voice was quieter this time. "No… we can't just leave."
Dave tilted his head slightly. "Changed your mind?"
Gu Jie's shoulders squared, her fingers curling deeper into her sleeves. "Something's wrong. If we leave now, it won't just be trouble—it'll be disaster. For us. For this city."
Dave studied her. Gu Jie was many things—sharp-tongued, pragmatic, fearless. But she wasn't one to imagine danger where there was none.
Was this intuition? Or something more?
Then—
A ripple of pressure.
The weight in the air shifted, growing dense. The murmuring crowd fell silent.
Dave's attention snapped to the figure striding forward. Heavy boots against iron-plated ground. A measured, deliberate step. The kind of authority that did not need to be announced.
Black robes. Cultivator's uniform. And emblazoned upon his chest—
黑—"Black."
Dave's mind turned cold. A Black Clan cultivator.
The man's gaze swept over the gathered travelers, his presence pressing down like an iron hand. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady, unyielding.
"You will all remain here."
Tension rippled through the crowd. Some bristled, others averted their gazes. No one dared object.
"The Black Clan is conducting an investigation into a matter of national security. We will be gathering everyone in this square for questioning."
Dave exchanged a glance with Gu Jie. She was completely still, her expression unreadable.
The cultivator continued. "Your cooperation is expected. For your time, you will be compensated."
Dave's thoughts moved swiftly. Compensation. That meant this would take time. National security. That meant they weren't after just a petty criminal.
His gaze flickered to Gu Jie.
She wasn't trembling. She wasn't afraid. But there was something in her eyes—a rare thing. Annoyance.
Where did the cool, composed Gu Jie go?
Dave watched as she exhaled, rolling her shoulders as if physically shaking off whatever had unsettled her. Then, just as quickly, she smoothed her expression back into something resembling her usual confidence—except for the slight twitch in her brow.
A tell.
Gu Jie sighed. "It should be fine if we follow his words." She rubbed her temple, her tone carrying an odd mix of resignation and irritation. "In fact, I'd say it's the least misfortune if we do. Senior, I still don't understand my ability that well. But I believe it's better this way."
Thus, the two decided to stay and cooperate.
073 Sidequest? Nah...
On the Floating Dragon, I sat cross-legged in my usual corner, idly swirling the water in Ren Jingyi's fishbowl. The ripples distorted her golden scales, making her look almost otherworldly. I had been waiting, watching. Something told me she was close.
Then, in an instant, it happened.
A surge of Qi pulsed from the bowl, subtle yet undeniable.
"Holy shit," I nearly dropped it. "By the heavens!"
Ren Xun, lounging nearby, bolted upright. "What shit is holy?! What in the name of the ancestors—" His eyes narrowed as he saw me clutching the fishbowl as if it were a priceless treasure.
I barely registered him, my entire focus on the trembling water. "She broke through," I muttered, half in awe, half in disbelief.
Ren Xun blinked. "Who did?"
"The fish," I said.
Silence.
"The fish?" His voice turned flat.
"The fish," I confirmed. "She stepped into the First Star of the Martial Tempering Realm."
Ren Xun stared at me as if I had just told him the heavens had collapsed. Then, slowly, he leaned in, scrutinizing the fishbowl as though expecting some trickery. The Qi was real—tiny, flickering ripples in the water, like embers dancing in the wind. Ren Jingyi herself floated in place, golden scales gleaming with an intensity they had never possessed before.
Across the boat, Lu Gao muttered, "The fish broke through? But… it's only been a few weeks."
Yes, Lu Gao. I understood you completely. The young man had spent years trapped in his crippled state, his meridians shattered beyond repair, unable to cultivate a single step forward. And yet, here was my pet—my damn goldfish—defying the heavens as though fate had never bound her in the first place.
Ren Xun exhaled through his nose, rubbing his temples as if warding off a headache. "Senior… you mean to tell me that while cultivators suffer through life-and-death trials, endure years of arduous training, and wager their very souls against tribulations, your fish—a domesticated, insignificant fish—ascended in a matter of weeks?"
"Well, when you put it like that—"
"That's because it is like that!" He groaned. "What next? Will it sprout legs and challenge me to a duel?"
Ren Jingyi, oblivious to the existential crisis she had just inflicted on a her fellow cultivators, swam in slow, lazy circles.
Lu Gao sighed, shaking his head. "Maybe I should've been born a fish."
Ren Xun muttered something about needing a drink.
I simply leaned back, watching Ren Jingyi with newfound curiosity.
"I got an awesome fish, huh? Lucky me."
The Floating Dragon idled over the mooring area, a vast stretch of hardened dirt where boat artifacts of all sizes were docked. Grand vessels lined with intricate formations pulsed with light, while humbler crafts, like our own, blended into the crowd. The towering walls of Ironmoor loomed in the distance, with attendants and guards ensuring order among the arrivals.
I stepped onto the dirt pier, rolling my shoulders. The ground was firm beneath my feet, marked by the faint traces of past landings. The air carried the scent of dust, lingering spirit energy, and the faint metallic tang of the city beyond.
Hei Mao stood beside me, gazing at the sprawling cityscape ahead.
After a long pause, he muttered, "Was cultivation truly meant to be this difficult?"
Ren Xun scoffed, adjusting his robes as he stepped off the boat. "Young Master, please," he drawled with a dramatic sigh. "While some humans may claw their way to the First Realm in mere weeks, for a beast—no, a fish—to achieve such a feat simply by existing? Preposterous."
Hei Mao blinked.
I blinked.
Lu Gao turned to stare at Ren Xun.
"…Young Master?" Hei Mao echoed, his tone laced with confusion.
Ren Xun merely shrugged. Given how the city guards had treated Hei Mao earlier—with hesitant deference and carefully measured respect—it wasn't hard to see why Ren Xun had chosen to follow suit. His attitude shifted like the wind when it suited him.
That was when a truly terrible idea took root in my mind.
I could've ignored it. Let it slip away into the void of what-ifs and missed opportunities.
But I didn't.
I let the intrusive thoughts win.
"For the next five minutes," I declared, grinning, "Hei Mao, you're going to speak like a Young Master."
Hei Mao frowned. "And how exactly am I supposed to—"
Ah. He needed a reference.
I turned to Lu Gao. He stiffened as if I'd just pointed a blade at his throat.
"Lu Gao, teach him."
"…What?"
"You heard me. Make him sound like a proper Young Master."
Lu Gao's expression flickered between confusion and reluctant horror before he finally sighed and beckoned Hei Mao closer. The two huddled together like scheming conspirators, Lu Gao whispering with exaggerated flourishes while Hei Mao listened with unnerving seriousness.
Ren Xun, watching this spectacle unfold, turned to me with open skepticism. "Is this truly wise?"
"We're not impersonating nobility," I reasoned.
Ren Xun exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "He might do it too well."
I sighed. "You're being way too obvious."
Ren Xun sighed back—dramatically, of course—arms crossed as he tapped his sleeve in mock impatience. "What's taking Gu Jie so long?"
I was about to use Voice Chat when movement caught my attention. One of the Ironmoor Guards—the same who had inspected our boat earlier—was approaching.
Lu Gao and Hei Mao immediately broke from their whispered plotting.
Then something subtle but undeniable shifted in Hei Mao.
His posture straightened, his gaze grew half-lidded with quiet arrogance. Not an overt display, but the kind that suggested he expected the world to bend around him.
That was… fast.
Either Lu Gao was a phenomenal teacher, or Hei Mao was a terrifyingly good student.
The guard stopped before us, his expression carefully neutral, but his stance betrayed tension. "There has been a murder inside Ironmoor," he announced. "For the time being, the mooring grounds will be restricted under law enforcement jurisdiction."
That explained the silent increase in guards, their presence thickening like a storm on the horizon.
The guard turned his attention to Hei Mao, inclining his head in a shallow bow. "Young Master, if you and your entourage intend to stay in the city, I advise you to enter now." He hesitated, then added in a lower voice, "Or, should you prefer to avoid… complications, you may wish to depart while the path is still open."
…This guard was doing us a favor.
I felt my pulse quicken. If law enforcement held this area too long, someone might start inspecting identities a little too closely. The last thing we needed was to be mistaken for Black Clan impostors.
I activated Voice Chat, directing my thoughts to Hei Mao.
"Ask about our companions. Use the tone of a Young Master."
Hei Mao didn't falter. Chin lifted slightly, he exuded the quiet arrogance of someone accustomed to having answers delivered to him. "And what of my companions within the city?" His voice was the perfect blend of measured impatience and effortless authority.
The guard hesitated a fraction too long before replying, "They are being held for questioning. For now, the city is under lockdown—no one enters, and no one leaves."
I immediately switched my Voice Chat to Gu Jie.
"What the hell is happening in there?"
Her response was crisp. "We're being detained. A murder took place, and the city won't reopen until the killer is found. There's Martial Law… They are not engaging in any extrajudicial killing or questionable activities, so it should be fine to give them what they wanted."
…That was inconvenient.
The guard, oblivious to my silent exchange, continued, "You have two choices, Young Master. Abandon them and proceed as you wish, or remain outside until the investigation concludes."
Like hell I was leaving my people behind.
I activated Voice Chat again for Hei Mao.
"Tell him we have nothing to hide and will enter the city."
Hei Mao nodded, then let out a soft scoff. "We have nothing to conceal. We will enter."
The guard studied him for a long moment, then withdrew a fresh permit and presented it with a slight bow. "Very well. Take this. It will grant you passage through the gates."
With that, he turned and slipped into the crowd of enforcers, vanishing into the shifting tide of armor and robes.
I let out a slow breath. That had gone smoother than expected.
Ren Xun hesitated, his tone unusually polite. "Senior… is this wise?" Always the voice of reason. Just for that alone, I was glad I brought him with me.
I glanced at him. Still, it was brave of him to question me openly. A few weeks ago, he would have swallowed his concerns and followed without complaint. He was beginning to understand my temperament—or at least, he thought he was.
I met his gaze. "Together, we are strongest. And my strength is the only certainty we have."
Ren Xun exhaled through his nose but didn't argue.
I lifted the fishbowl and held it out to him. "You're on goldfish duty."
He blinked. Then, with visible reluctance, he accepted it. His grip was careful, his expression one of resigned disbelief. "Of course, Senior."
With that settled, I turned toward the towering Ironmoor Gates. The flow of people had thickened, law enforcers moving in controlled formations, their gazes sharp and searching. A tension hung in the air—an unspoken fear, the weight of a predator lurking unseen.
I squared my shoulders and stepped forward. "Let's go."
Hei Mao handed the permit to Lu Gao with a slight nod. Without hesitation, Lu Gao stepped forward, exuding an air of absolute authority.
"Young Master and his esteemed entourage have been granted passage into Ironmoor," he declared, his voice smooth and commanding. "This is our permit. Do be quick about it."
I raised a brow. Overbearing yet refined, arrogant yet articulate—he played the role of a high-ranking attendant flawlessly. I mentally shot him a thumbs-up. Not that he could see it.
The guard barely spared us a glance before waving us through.
Inside the city, I activated Voice Chat and contacted Gu Jie.
"Where are you?"
"Some kind of outbuilding. City enforcers are questioning us. Dave's in the next cell over."
Not great, but it could've been worse.
"What's your read on the situation? I can swap places with Dave if things go south."
"We're being treated decently. No need for violence. I'd say we'll be out in a day or so."
I cut the connection and switched to Dave. If Gu Jie was downplaying the situation, I needed a second opinion. My Divine Sense's lie detection didn't work at this range, so cross-checking was the next best thing.
"Same questions I gave Gu Jie. Where are you? How's their hospitality?"
Dave's response mirrored Gu Jie's.
Good. She wasn't sugarcoating things.
Now we needed disguises.
I led the party into a narrow alley, the kind that smelled faintly of damp stone and questionable liquid spills. Without a word, I reached into my Item Box and pulled out a set of robes—plain, worn, and far less ostentatious than what we currently wore. Given that we had already passed Hei Mao off as a Black Clan cultivator, the next best thing was posing as merchants.
I handed Hei Mao a Magic Scroll of Disguise. "Make yourself older. Change your features, change your hair color. Blend in. Gu Jie taught you how to use one, right?"
"Y-yes, I can handle this!" Hei Mao took the scroll and activated it while the rest of us swapped outfits.
Lu Gao pulled out a small knife and, without hesitation, sawed off part of his hair, letting the uneven strands scatter onto the stone. Ren Xun, on the other hand, went straight for the dirt, smearing it across his robes before running a greasy hand through his hair.
I frowned. "We're pretending to be merchants, not beggars."
Ren Xun didn't even glance up. "We shouldn't look too rich. That'll just invite scrutiny."
Lu Gao scoffed. "And looking like street trash won't? No one trusts a destitute merchant."
I let them bicker and turned to Hei Mao, who had just finished his disguise.
Then I stared.
His hair was now a deep crimson, long and flowing like a war hero from an ancient epic. His features were too sharp, too sculpted—like an artist had painstakingly carved him from divine jade. And his physique—his absurdly muscular physique—strained against his sleeves as if he had been training exclusively in boulder-crushing techniques.
Hei Mao hesitated under my scrutiny. "Uh—" He rubbed the back of his neck. "I read an old novel about a martial artist with red hair. Thought I'd, y'know… try it."
I exhaled slowly. Right. Hei Mao was still a kid at heart.
I turned to assess my team—one dirt-smeared monk, one overly polished young master, and one unnecessarily shredded redhead. Oh, and a goldfish in her bowl.
A simple side quest for fish food had somehow spiraled into this.
I sighed. "Let's just get this over with."