The main street narrows ahead, the flow of traffic bottlenecked by a formation of indigo-clad warriors.
At least a dozen disciples stand in a calculated formation, their long spears resting upright, tips glinting under the midday sun. Each movement is deliberate, disciplined. Their presence isn't casual—this is a show of control, of dominance.
De-Reece slows his steps, observing.
The Jin Spear Sect. One of the strongest unorthodox sects, known for coordinated combat and spear techniques designed to dismantle formations and overwhelm enemies.
Their presence here isn't surprising. But the way they are blocking the path—without outright aggression—suggests something more.
Kalia tilts her head. "What do you think? Should we walk through, or should we ask nicely?"
De-Reece doesn't answer immediately. The positioning of their spears, the controlled stance of each disciple—it's not just for intimidation.
They are guarding something.
A few travelers—mercenaries, rogue cultivators, and sect hopefuls—hesitate at the sight of the blockade before turning away. The average contestant wouldn't challenge a sect's formation lightly.
One cultivator, braver or perhaps more foolish, steps forward.
A tall man, clad in rough leather armor, likely an independent fighter. His qi is decent, though unrefined. He scowls at the spear-wielding disciples.
"Move aside. I have business in the inner district."
One of the Jin Spear Sect disciples, a young man with a shaved head and calm demeanor, steps forward. His spear twists slightly in his grip—just a fraction.
"You are free to go another way," he says smoothly. "This road is closed."
The independent fighter sneers. "By whose authority?"
The disciple smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes.
"By the authority of the spear."
Without another word, he moves.
A blur of motion.
His spear flashes forward, a controlled, precise thrust that stops millimeters from the fighter's chest.
The mercenary barely has time to react. His hands go for his blade, but—
Snap.
The disciple flicks his wrist, redirecting his spear in a flawless arc, striking the fighter's wrist before he can draw his weapon. The movement is too fluid, too practiced.
A second movement—a step forward, a sweeping strike—
The fighter is swept off his feet, landing hard on his back.
A brief silence.
The disciple steps back, planting his spear into the ground with an air of finality.
"This road is closed," he repeats, voice as calm as before.
Kalia lets out a low whistle. "That was efficient."
De-Reece watches closely. This wasn't just about keeping people out.
The disciple's movements were flawless, almost too perfect. The Jin Spear Sect is known for formation combat, but this level of precision in individual combat is rare.
Kalia nudges his arm. "What's the plan? Walk away like the others, or do we find out why they're standing here?"
De-Reece considers.
They have options:
Challenge the roadblock openly – Force a confrontation and measure the strength of their techniques. Observe from the sidelines – See if someone else forces their way through first. Find an alternate route and investigate from another angle.
Solar lets out a soft growl, sensing the unspoken challenge in the air.
De-Reece takes a slow breath.
The road ahead is blocked.
But that doesn't mean he can't find another way through.
De-Reece doesn't move immediately. Fighting the Jin Spear Sect head-on is an option, but not the smartest one.
Not yet.
Instead, his eyes scan the surroundings, noting the architecture, the movement of the crowd, the layout of the district.
The Jin Spear Sect disciples are focused on direct confrontation. Their attention is on challengers approaching from the front, not those moving around them.
Kalia notices the shift in his stance and smirks. "So we're not picking a fight today?"
De-Reece shakes his head. "Not here. Not yet."
Her grin widens. "I was hoping you'd say that."
Without another word, De-Reece steps away from the main road, blending into the shifting tide of Ironhold's bustling streets.
Solar moves beside him, her silent footfalls making her presence nearly invisible.
Kalia follows easily, keeping pace, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp.
The main district streets are wide, structured—meant for traders, warriors, and merchants moving openly.
But the side streets are a different world.
Narrow alleyways weave between towering stone buildings, the air thick with the scent of damp wood, old parchment, and alchemical smoke.
The deeper they move, the quieter the city becomes.
Here, Ironhold's less visible players move in silence—wandering cultivators, information brokers, and those who operate in the shadows.
De-Reece's steps slow as he scans his surroundings. This part of Ironhold is often ignored by those focused only on battle.
And that makes it the perfect place to gather information.