The sun had barely risen when the Wen Clan's convoy set out from their ancestral grounds. A long procession of armored carriages, elite guards, and mounted disciples moved in formation, their banners fluttering in the cold mountain breeze. The road to Qingyuan City stretched before them, winding through valleys, forests, and treacherous passes.
At the vanguard, Wen Wuxing rode atop his Storm Roc, the beast's silver scales glistening under the morning light. Its powerful wings occasionally stirred, sending small gusts of wind rippling through the ranks. Beside him, Elder Wen Rong, Wen Ming, and Wen Ruoyan maintained formation, their senses attuned to any disturbances.
This journey was more than just a passage—it was a declaration.
For years, the Wen Clan had remained secluded, their power hidden from the world. Now, with the Celestial Ascension Tournament only two days away, they would enter Qingyuan not as a fading name, but as contenders.
Yet, despite the outward display of strength, Wuxing remained vigilant. The weight of unseen threats pressed against his mind like a silent storm waiting to break.
He was right to be wary.
A Treacherous Path
By midday, the convoy neared the Serpent's Gorge, a deep canyon flanked by towering cliffs. This was the shortest route to Qingyuan but also the most infamous—many a traveler had vanished here without a trace.
The scouting unit, led by Elder Wen Rong, was already ahead, ensuring the path was clear.
Suddenly, a sharp whistle cut through the air.
The convoy halted. Every guard, elder, and disciple tensed, hands tightening over weapons.
Wen Rong raised his hand, signaling for silence. His gaze was locked on the ground—where fresh footprints and wheel ruts crisscrossed the dirt road. Too many for a simple merchant caravan.
"We're not alone," he murmured.
Wuxing's eyes darkened. "How many?"
"At least fifty," Wen Rong replied. "Possibly more, given the spread. And they were here recently."
The air grew oppressive, a lingering presence pressing down on the convoy like a predator watching its prey.
Then, from the cliffs above, a slow, mocking clap echoed through the gorge.
"The great Wen Clan marches so boldly," a voice sneered. "Do you truly believe the past is forgotten?"
An Assassin's Welcome
Figures emerged from the rocky outcrops above, their robes dark as night, their masks adorned with the sigil of a black crescent moon.
Wuxing's gaze turned cold.
The Crescent Moon Society.
One of the deadliest assassin guilds in the kingdom, their movements were always hidden, their contracts never public. If they had appeared openly—someone had paid dearly to ensure the Wen Clan never reached Qingyuan.
The leader, clad in serpent-patterned robes, stepped forward. His voice was smooth, yet laced with the venom of a viper.
"By decree of our benefactor," he said, "none of you shall leave this gorge alive."
Murmurs spread among the Wen disciples. Even among assassins, the Crescent Moon Society was feared.
Elder Wen Rong's expression was unreadable, but his fingers subtly traced the hilt of his sword. "And who is this benefactor of yours?"
The assassin only chuckled. "The dead have no need for answers."
The Battle Begins
Ding!
New Quest Unlocked: "Eliminate the Ambush – Survive the Crescent Moon Assassins"
Reward: Unknown (Tier-Based)
A deadly silence followed.
Then, like the snap of a bowstring, the enemy struck.
Dozens of assassins descended from the cliffs, their blades gleaming with poisoned qi. Crossbow bolts rained from above, aiming for vital points.
But the Wen Clan was prepared.
"DEFENSIVE FORMATIONS!" Wen Rong roared.
A golden barrier of spiritual energy erupted around the convoy as elder-ranked cultivators unleashed their defenses. Crossbow bolts shattered mid-air, unable to penetrate.
Wuxing vanished in an instant, his body flickering like a phantom as he evaded a dozen incoming strikes. In the next breath, he reappeared—his hand wreathed in abyssal energy—and struck.
A crescent arc of darkness erupted from his palm, slicing through three assassins before they could even react.
Screams filled the air.
Wen Ruoyan, her Moonlit Blade gleaming, moved like flowing water, parrying and countering with lethal precision. Beside her, Wen Ming unleashed a series of qi-infused palm strikes, sending assassins crashing into the canyon walls.
But the Crescent Moon assassins were relentless.
The leader of the assassins flicked his fingers, and shadow talismans exploded, releasing a choking black mist that covered the battlefield.
Ding!
Status Effect: Veil of the Moon Activated – Vision Obscured
Wuxing's expression remained calm.
Then, his voice cut through the chaos.
"FALL BACK TO SECTOR FORMATIONS!"
Immediately, the Wen forces reorganized, forming tight, rotating squads that countered the assassins' hit-and-run tactics. The Windhowl Guard, trained in anti-assassination combat, stepped forward, their spears glowing with runic energy as they drove back the enemy.
Even through the fog, Wuxing could see the pattern in their movements.
Then—he struck first.
His fingers formed a complex seal, and black chains of abyssal energy erupted from the ground, latching onto three assassins before violently crushing them.
The mist wavered, and for a moment, Wuxing locked eyes with the assassin leader.
"You…" the assassin whispered, his tone shifting from confidence to unease.
But before he could react, Wuxing moved.
He blurred forward, one step—then two—then three, crossing the battlefield in the blink of an eye.
Then, with a single palm strike to the chest—
The assassin leader crumpled.
Aftermath & Unfinished Business
The remaining assassins, seeing their leader fall, hesitated. Some tried to flee, but the Windhowl Guard cut them down before they could escape.
Within minutes, the battle was over.
Wuxing stood over the fallen assassin leader, his gaze sharp. "He was stronger than a mere hired blade," he muttered. "There's something more at play."
Elder Wen Jiayi, who had fought beside the other elders, walked forward. "A deeper force moves against us." His eyes drifted to the corpse. "The Zhao Clan alone could not have orchestrated this."
Wuxing nodded. "The question is—who else wants us dead?"
A dark silence loomed over them.
Finally, Elder Wen Rong spoke. "We should not delay. Qingyuan awaits."
Wuxing turned his gaze toward the distant city.
The Celestial Ascension Tournament was still ahead. But now, it was clear—
This was more than a tournament.
Someone in the shadows had already decided that the Wen Clan must not return from Qingyuan alive.