The sharp, bitter chill of the Abyssal Valley finally began to dissipate as Li-Wen navigated the last treacherous, narrow ravine, stepping out onto the cracked, stone-strewn soil of the desolate borderlands. Behind him lay a deadly, twisting maze of poisonous purple mist, ancient environmental traps, and silent, soaked blood from those who had tried to hunt him down. Ahead of him lay the sprawling, chaotic, and completely lawless border settlement known as Obsidian Pass.
Obsidian Pass was a melting pot of pure anarchy and shadowed commerce. Situated right at the geographic juncture where the boundaries of three major sect territories collided with unmapped, wild trade routes, it served as a bustling, unforgiving sanctuary for rogue cultivators, black-market merchants, desperate fugitives, and wanted criminals of every imaginable caliber. The city belonged to no single righteous faction, nor was it governed by any divine law—making it the absolute perfect place for a young martial artist carrying the infamous Sovereign Kill Order to blend seamlessly into the background, conceal his spiritual aura, and lay low.
Having thoroughly suppressed his powerful internal energy and wrapped himself in a simple, faded, dust-covered traveler's cloak, Li-Wen walked through the towering, rusted iron gates of the outer city wall. The corrupt, heavily armed guards standing at the gate barely spared him a glance, far too occupied with demanding exorbitant entry tolls from wealthy merchant caravans. Li-Wen's primary objective for entering this pit of chaos was straightforward and vital for his immediate survival: he needed to find a quiet, completely isolated corner in the lower slums to settle down temporarily, recover his strained meridians back to absolute perfection, and monitor the movements of both the Sovereign Sword Sect and the notorious Blood-Fiend Pavilion from a safe, undetectable distance.
As dusk settled over the horizon, painting the sky in deep shades of crimson and violet, the glittering jade lanterns of the wealthy merchant guilds and local sect branch houses began to illuminate the upper quarters of the city. Their golden, warm glow cast exceptionally long, eerie, and threatening shadows over the narrow, muddy, and refuse-filled alleyways of the slums down below. It was down in these neglected, dark alleys that the true, predatory, and unforgiving nature of Obsidian Pass revealed its darkest face.
While navigating carefully through a remarkably quiet, dimly lit lane in the lower district—his eyes actively searching for an isolated, forgotten inn where no questions would be asked—Li-Wen's sharp, highly refined senses picked up the distinct sound of hushed, aggressive, and cruel voices echoing from behind a half-collapsed, damp brick structure.
"You worthless little piece of garbage! Is this pathetic handful of copper all you managed to gather from the main street today?" a heavy, gravelly voice snarled viciously. The harsh words were followed instantly by the wet, echoing crack of heavy leather snapping brutally against exposed, bare skin.
"P-please... I tried... I really tried..." a tiny, trembling voice sobbed out in response. The voice was terribly broken, raspy from severe dehydration, and extraordinarily weak from sheer physical exhaustion. "The guards at the main avenue drove all of us away with heavy wooden clubs... I couldn't get anywhere close to the rich cultivators' inn... Please, don't hit me anymore..."
Li-Wen halted instantly in the deep, impenetrable shadows beneath a sagging stone overhang. His facial expression remained completely unreadable, cold as absolute ice, but his dark eyes sharpened like honed blades. He shifted his posture slightly, peering quietly around the sharp stone corner of the decaying building.
In the filthy, trash-strewn, dark alleyway, two extraordinarily burly, scar-faced men wearing iron-studded leather armor were standing in a menacing half-circle over a tiny, shivering child. She couldn't have been more than seven or eight years old. The child was dressed in absurdly oversized, threadbare rags that barely clung to her frail, terribly thin frame. Her small, pale face, hands, and bare feet were coated in thick layers of dark chimney soot and dried mud, obscuring much of her skin. Yet, despite the extreme grime, visible starvation, and terrible bruising, her striking, dark eyes held a rare, crystalline, and unsullied purity—a sharp, tragic contrast to the absolute filth and corruption surrounding her.
The two cruel men belonged to the infamous "Phantom Rat Gang"—a ruthless, highly organized underworld syndicate that controlled the city's vast, miserable network of homeless orphans and runaway children. This dark syndicate systematically used these completely defenseless, nameless children as pickpockets, low-level beggars, and most importantly, as eyes and ears on the dusty streets. Their overarching objective was gathering critical intelligence on mysterious, wealthy, or high-level cultivators entering Obsidian Pass, subsequently selling that sensitive, dangerous information to powerful local noble families, underground slave markets, or dark martial factions in exchange for shiny spirit stones and rare cultivation resources.
"Boss specifically instructed us to keep you alive and unbroken because a face like yours will fetch a massive, astronomical fortune from the perverted young lords of the noble houses in just a few short years!" the larger, bald guard sneered, his yellowed teeth bared as he grabbed the terrified young girl roughly by her matted, messy hair and lifted her tiny, lightweight body entirely off the cold, wet stone ground. "A pretty, rare plaything like you is a long-term investment for the gang! But if you can't even bring back useful news or spirit coins today, you won't live long enough or stay healthy enough to ever see that profitable day!"
"Let go of her hair for now," the second guard grunted, casually swinging his iron-weighted leather whip against the mud, creating a loud, terrifying crack that made the girl flinch violently. "Don't ruin her delicate face or break her skin open just yet. The Boss is meeting a very high-paying contact from a dark sect tonight to trade crucial intelligence regarding a mysterious, wounded youth who recently escaped the Abyssal Valley. We need every single brat on the streets watching the entrance of every inn and tavern at sunrise tomorrow."
The little girl whimpered softly in pure agony, clutching her bruised, bone-thin arms tightly against her chest as her small body shook uncontrollably—not just from the biting evening chill and intense pangs of hunger, but from sheer, hopeless terror.
Standing unmoving in the gloom, Li-Wen's eyes turned completely icy, devoid of any warmth. He had entered this chaotic city with the strict intention of remaining completely hidden, avoiding all unnecessary local conflicts to keep his true identity completely concealed from the scouts of the major sects. However, listening to these men's sickening, predatory intentions and witnessing a helpless, starving child being systematically broken down to be sold as a future plaything triggered a sharp, roaring disgust deep within his chest.
She had no martial arts background, no loving family to protect her, and absolute zero power to fight back against the cruelty of the world. She was merely a defenseless, innocent child trying to survive in a realm that offered her no mercy whatsoever—much like Li-Wen himself had once been before he was forcefully dragged into the bloody, self-serving power struggles of the martial sects.
Without unleashing even a single wisp of his deadly killing intent, Li-Wen quietly shifted his stance. His slender hand came to rest softly and naturally upon the cold hilt of his concealed sword as he slowly stepped out from the darkness of the archway, his long shadow stretching silently across the frozen stone ground toward the two unsuspecting men.
See you in next chapter...