Dusk turns over the inkstone, thick ink swiftly devours everything. Yan Gui wears a thin old cloth shirt, the border town "Clay Camel Inn" mixing dust with animal dung in murky confusion. Leading a weary horse, its back laden with sacks of dried herbs, eking out a living in this forgotten corner of the martial world—running errands for the town's "Relief Hall" pharmacy, escorting valuable medicinal materials.
Yan Gui, twenty-six years old, his features worn smooth by the sands of time, concealing threads of weariness that belie his age. Once he stirred small ripples in certain circles, but now, in Clay Camel Inn, he has become a silent messenger delivering goods. The martial world? Too noisy, with flashing blades and swords, grudges and vendettas—better to hide away.
Hooves strike the potholed earth with monotonous "clip-clop" sounds. Clay Camel Inn, with its crooked earthen walls and low adobe houses, has only one establishment in the entire town—the "Forget Worries" tavern with its tattered wine banner. Dim yellow light leaks through the tavern's broken window frames, faintly mixed with crude gambling shouts and curses.
Yan Gui was just leading his horse past the tavern when something strange happened suddenly!
"Boom——!"
The tavern's door swayed precariously before exploding violently, wood fragments mixed with smoke and dust spraying everywhere! A black shadow flew backward like a cannonball, crashing hard into the earthen wall across the street, producing a bone-chilling crack before collapsing limply to the ground.
Immediately after, a crimson figure swept through like a ghost, landing gracefully. The figure was lean and tall, wearing tight-fitting crimson garments that seemed soaked in fresh blood, with a fierce demon mask covering their face, revealing only a pair of ice-cold, emotionless eyes. They held a narrow curved blade, from whose tip warm drops of blood dripped steadily, creating deep impressions in the dusty ground.
Red Ghost!
Yan Gui's pupils contracted sharply, his body instantly tensing as he recognized the shadowy figure. Red Ghost—a notorious assassin from the northern borderlands who specialized in brutal killings, his movements ghostly and mysterious, dealing exclusively in the thorny business of assassination. How had this bird of ill omen come to this humble courier station?
Red Ghost stood over a corpse slumped in the corner, his poisoned hook gleaming as he surveyed the locked tavern. As the dust settled slightly, a staggering figure emerged—a man clutching his bleeding left shoulder, retreating step by step. The man appeared to be in his thirties, his face pale as paper, lips pressed tight, filled with an indescribable terror and desperation. His right hand gripped tightly the handle of a broken thick-backed blade, the weapon's edge chipped and damaged.
"Surname Chen, hand it over, and I'll give you a quick death!" Red Ghost's voice was hoarse and dry, like sandpaper scraping against skin, making one's scalp crawl.
The man surnamed Chen coughed violently, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth: "Red Ghost... cough cough... you 'Contract Alliance' dog! I... I won't... never..." His voice trembled, yet stubbornly he swept his gaze around the surroundings, seemingly searching for that slim hope for survival. When his eyes swept past the shadowy corner where Yan Gui hid, he paused for a barely perceptible instant, his expression complex beyond measure—pleading, warning, and perhaps a trace of... pathetic sorrow?
Yan Gui sank into deep thought. "The Contract Alliance"? A completely unfamiliar term, but the red ghost's fierce reaction made it clear this was no trivial matter. He must not cause trouble, especially not provoke a malevolent star like this red ghost. He held his breath, struggled to shrink further into the shadows, hoping this sudden killing spree would soon end.
"Stubborn spirit!" Red Ghost snorted coldly, his shadow flickering as he slithered close like a crimson viper, his curved blade carving a vicious arc toward the Chen-surnamed man's throat! His speed surpassed the limit of a returning swallow!
The Chen-surnamed man let out a desperate roar, raising his broken blade to block!
"Clang—crack!"
The broken blade shattered completely! Red Ghost's curved blade slowed slightly but still precisely sliced through the flesh at the side of the Chen-surnamed man's neck, blood gushing wildly!
In an instant, the Chen-surnamed man's utter despair transformed abruptly into extreme terror, as if fearing death. His throat made strange "heh heh" sounds, trembling violently like a sieve.
"......——!!!"
The piercing, agonized scream came to an abrupt halt.
Hair-raising scene!
The exposed skin of the Chen-surnamed man—neck, back, cheeks—instantly sprouted dense, eerie patterns emitting a ghostly blue glow! Twisted and ancient, definitely not human, the skin writhed madly, flickering! An indescribable cold aura instantly permeated the air, even causing Yan Gui to feel a bone-piercing chill.
The Red Ghost seemed startled, abruptly withdrawing his blade and stepping back, warily watching the eerie blue glow.
Within seconds, the blue light suddenly extinguished!
The Chen-surnamed man's strange coloration instantly vanished, as if his soul had been drained in an instant, collapsing limply like a deflated balloon, not breathing for half a moment. His condition was like the flying corpse in the tavern—no fatal wounds (the neck injury was clearly not fatal), yet his life was severed!
Contract! Mission failed! Backlash!
The icy cone of words pierced deep into Yan Gui's mind! The body was ice-cold, feet stiff and rigid, skin bearing the ghostly blue imprint of nightmares, deeply burned into the retina. ...What was the source of the man's fear just now? The power of the "Contract Alliance"?
The red ghost stared at the Chen surnamed man's corpse, its eyes flashing with threads of anger and wariness. Cursing under its breath, it quickly bent down to search the body, clearly looking for the so-called "something." After a moment, it seemed to have found what it was looking for, its hollow eye sockets suddenly sweeping around the surroundings, finally locking onto a shadow that seemed to merge with the darkness like a returning swallow!
Murderous intent filled the air!
Yan Gui's heart leaped wildly! Run! His mind held only one thought! He shoved hard, then dove into the side alley!
"What?! Damn it!" The red demon's hoarse voice clung like bone maggots, shadows flickered, a bloody stench filled the air, and the curved blade's cold edge struck like a returning swallow!
The shadow of death instantly enveloped! Yan Gui's ice-cold blade nearly pierced through his clothing! With all his strength he twisted, his right hand reaching for his waist—a short dagger used for cutting medicinal herbs! At this critical moment—
The faint, barely perceptible ghostly blue light had not yet completely faded from the cold corpse of the man surnamed Chen when some invisible force pulled at it, ghostlike, as the crimson blade's edge touched Yan Gui's garment in that instant—"whoosh"—it entered Yan Gui's back!
"Ugh!"
Yan Gui's back suddenly turned cold, as if a block of ice had been pressed against it, instantly penetrating to the bone marrow! An indescribable sensation of icy coldness, heaviness, and intense binding force exploded within! There was no avoiding the stagnation.
Stagnation!
"Swoosh!"
The red demon's curved blade scraped past his ribs, drawing blood! Yan Gui grunted in pain, using the momentum to stumble forward into the depths of the dark alley. Ignoring the pain, a strange icy sensation coursed through him like a serpent, bringing waves of indescribable panic and dread.
The red ghost displayed a faint blue swallow's return, filled with shock and suspicion. "Contract?! How... should!" Hesitating for half a breath, the deep alley was thick with darkness, form, mark, fall, pursuing the "contract" entangled at the corner seemed to involve risky gains. Resentfully in the deep shadowy alley, giving chase, shadows flickering, swiftly vanishing into the vast night.
Yan Gui ran frantically through the narrow, filthy alley with unsteady steps, his rib wound burning with pain, while waves of fear sent icy shackles through his body. Just now, blue...
They dared, like escaping from a nightmare. After running for so long, their lungs wheezed like broken bellows, their legs felt heavy as lead, and they collapsed in a corner piled with miscellaneous debris. Leaning against the cold earthen wall, gasping for breath, cold sweat mixed with blood soaked through their clothes.
Darkness, heavy breathing.
——
An indescribable fear pierced deep into the heart! Cold! Forceful! Irresistible!
Yan Gui cried out in terror, trembling as cloth was torn from her chest.
In the narrow alley, faint light struggles through, stingily casting its pale glow.
A ethereal blue glow slowly illuminated the skin of his chest! The light was bone-chillingly cold, carrying the breath of death. Within that glow, twisted, archaic symbols emanated an ominous and eerie aura, like curses crawling from hell, clearly branded into his flesh and blood!
The Contract:
Contract: Yan Gui.
Contract Limit: None.
Contract Duty: Carry the "Box" and deliver it to the "Valley."
If the deadline is exceeded, both souls shall perish!
The clear information appeared, and the icy light seemed to freeze Yan Gui's soul before slowly fading away, as if it had never existed. The bone-deep cold touch was like an absolute binding, forming invisible shackles that bound him tightly.
"Box? Valley?" Yan Gui murmured, his voice dry and hoarse, filled with bone-deep terror. Unheard of! Who to find? The Chen-surnamed man, his skin turning blue, died instantly?
Clenching his fist tightly, his nails dug deep into his palm, yet the pain was barely noticeable. Blood flowed from his rib wound, and a brand mark burned on his chest, but the agony was trivial in comparison.
A bone-chilling despair surged like a tide, instantly drowning the mud-caked courier station and this wretched corner of the martial world. Looking up through the narrow alley, the eaves cut the ink-black sky into fragmented pieces, resembling the form of a giant "Contract" character—a demonic claw slowly closing in.
In the dark alley, only labored, oppressive breathing remained, along with cold, countdown ticking that began to resonate deep within the soul.