As they move through a shadowed corridor between buildings, low voices echo from ahead.
De-Reece halts, pressing himself against the rough stone wall of a nearby structure. Kalia does the same, her breathing steady.
Solar remains completely still, her golden-violet eyes fixed on the source of the sound.
Just around the bend, two figures stand in hushed conversation.
One wears the indigo robes of the Jin Spear Sect. A disciple—though not one of the guards from the roadblock.
The other is clad in dark gray robes, the hood of his cloak pulled low. A rogue cultivator.
De-Reece listens.
"…Secured. The elders ordered full lockdown. No one enters without direct approval." The Jin Spear disciple's voice is controlled, but there's tension beneath it.
The rogue cultivator shifts, his tone sharp. "And the… package?"
The disciple hesitates. "Stable for now. But the pressure is growing. We don't know how long…" He stops himself, glancing around before lowering his voice further. "We are not to speak of this openly."
The rogue cultivator exhales. "Fine. But the Fang won't wait forever."
Fang?
De-Reece's eyes narrow slightly. The Black Fang Society?
The Jin Spear disciple steps back. "You'll receive word soon. Until then, hold your ground."
The rogue cultivator gives a curt nod before disappearing into the maze of alleyways.
The Jin Spear disciple lingers a moment longer before turning and walking in the opposite direction—toward a gated structure just beyond the roadblock.
De-Reece watches, unmoving.
Something is being guarded.
Something important enough for the Jin Spear Sect to enforce a roadblock and for a rogue faction to be involved.
Kalia exhales quietly. "That sounded interesting."
De-Reece nods once.
This isn't just a simple act of control.
They are protecting something. Or someone.
And now, he intends to find out what.
De-Reece nods to Kalia, signalling with a small motion of his fingers.
The rogue cultivator disappears into the winding alleyways, moving with a trained but hurried pace. He isn't just wandering—he's heading somewhere specific.
Solar shifts into the shadows, her presence blending into the dimly lit pathways.
De-Reece and Kalia follow.
The deeper De-Reece and Kalia move into the side streets of Ironhold, the more the atmosphere shifts.
The main district is filled with sect hopefuls, merchants, and warriors.
But here, in the outer slums, power operates in silence.
This is where rogue cultivators, information brokers, and black-market dealers thrive—where Ironhold's rules mean little.
Solar moves ahead, her black fur blending into the dim alleyways. She knows a hunt when she sees one.
They track the rogue cultivator from the Black Fang Society, his steps quick but controlled. He isn't wandering—he's heading somewhere specific.
Kalia leans in slightly. "Where do you think he's going?"
De-Reece keeps his voice low. "Somewhere he feels safe."
She nods. "Then let's see what safety looks like to the Black Fang Society."
They follow, unseen.
After several turns through narrow, crumbling pathways, the rogue cultivator stops at a secluded courtyard.
A second figure is already waiting.
A woman, clad in black robes with silver embroidery—the mark of the Black Fang Society.
Her presence is sharper, stronger. Not just a messenger. A leader.
De-Reece and Kalia move into the shadows of a ruined structure, watching.
The Black Fang leader speaks first."The Jin Spear Sect is holding firm. But we can push harder."
Another figure emerges from the darkness.
A tall man, wrapped in crimson-lined robes, his features hidden beneath a hood.
The Demonic Sect.
Even at this distance, De-Reece feels the weight of his presence.
A cultivator trained in techniques that few dare to use.
The Black Fang leader lowers her voice."Are we certain the Jin Spear Sect won't break?"
The Demonic Sect figure chuckles softly."All things break."
His voice is smooth, confident. The tone of a man who knows his path will not be stopped.
The Black Fang leader hesitates. "You have the Grandmaster's approval?"
The Demonic Sect figure tilts his head slightly.
"The Grandmaster does not waste thought on small matters. He only sees victory."
De-Reece remains completely still.
The Demonic Sect isn't interested in the Jin Spear Sect itself.
They want something the sect is guarding.
The Black Fang Society is just a tool. A temporary piece in the game.
The true battle is still ahead.
The Sect Selection is not the end goal. It is only the beginning.
The conversation ends. The Demonic Sect figure turns, moving deeper into the slums.
The Black Fang Society leader watches him leave. There is tension in her shoulders—as if she understands she is no longer in control of this situation.
Kalia exhales. "That was bigger than I expected."
De-Reece nods. "We're following him."
Not the Black Fang Society.
The real power behind the curtain.
The Demonic Sect cultivator moves with confidence, certain no one would dare trail him.
That is his first mistake.
The Demonic Sect cultivator stops in front of a low-lit entrance carved into the side of a crumbling stone structure.
Two mercenary guards stand at the doorway, dressed in mismatched armour, but their hands remain near their weapons.
The guards nod at him, stepping aside.
He disappears inside.
Kalia studies the entrance. "That's not a safe house."
De-Reece's gaze sharpens. "It's a market."
The underground market.
A place where treasures, forbidden techniques, beast cores, poisons, and stolen artefacts are traded without rules, without restriction.
And right now, a cultivator from the Demonic Sect is inside.
De-Reece adjusts his stance, his expression shifting slightly.
Kalia raises a brow. "What are you thinking?"
He smirks. "That we're here for business."
Kalia grins. "Then let's see what's for sale."
They step forward, toward the underground.
Toward the secrets Ironhold does not reveal in the daylight.