Cassian Zhang's escorts weren't useless. The moment blades came out, they matched House Lin's guards step for step. Steel rang, bodies shifted, and the fight locked into an ugly stalemate.
That meant Lin Li was suddenly exposed.
Her guards couldn't break away to shield her—not without giving Cassian's men an opening—so they could only watch, furious and helpless, as Cassian approached with that greasy grin.
Cassian's talent wasn't terrible. The problem was that he treated cultivation like a chore. He spent his days drifting from drink to gambling to brothels, chasing pleasure until the sun came up, then doing it again. House Zhang fed him resources like water, yet at sixteen he was only Bronze Tier, Rank 4.
Jasper had heard rumors: Cassian had a cousin, a true cultivation maniac, already Bronze Tier, Rank 7. Same family, same backing—two completely different outcomes.
Lin Li's hands shook as she drew her sword.
A mithril longsword, light in the grip but sharp enough to bite through armor. The blade carried a deep violet sheen, and its name matched it: Violet Conchblade—an Arcane Tier, Rank 1 weapon.
Cassian drew his own longsword. Jasper didn't know its name, but the metal told the story: Mysterium-forged, also Arcane Tier, Rank 1.
Cassian sauntered closer, eyes crawling over Lin Li like she was something he'd already bought.
"Come on, Li-li," he said, voice sweet in the worst way. "Stop fighting it. I'll treat you real nice."
Then he lunged.
Jasper moved.
He exploded out of the crowd like a thrown knife—fast, clean, decisive. One kick slammed into Cassian's chest.
Jasper's strength was brushing Bronze Tier, Rank 6 now. Cassian didn't have the body to absorb that kind of force.
Cassian flew backward, crashing hard, his sword skittering across the ground.
Jasper snatched it up on instinct—then immediately turned and ran toward the guards as the melee threatened to spill into the bystanders.
In the same motion, he drew the weapon Lord Lin had sent into the tower.
The Lazuli Blade, Bronze Tier, Rank 7.
These weren't tower constructs. They weren't trained elites moving with perfect timing. They were rich-house guards swinging with pride and habit.
Jasper cut into them like a scalpel.
In six or seven seconds, he tagged all twelve—precise thrusts into the right hand, just deep enough. Fine-steel swords dropped everywhere, clattering across the stones.
Jasper's voice came out low, flat.
"Walk away."
One guard tried to be brave, bending to grab his fallen sword.
Jasper's heel snapped out and dropped him cold.
That was enough.
Cassian's escorts hauled their young master upright and dragged him toward the crowd. People parted—not out of respect, but to watch the humiliation in full view. Snickers followed them like thrown pebbles.
Cassian screamed over his shoulder, face twisted with rage and pain.
"I'll remember you! House Lin's dog—I'll tear you apart! You hear me?!"
Jasper didn't bother answering.
He watched Cassian disappear, then sprang up onto a nearby wall and vanished from sight.
A heartbeat later, he was back—circling through alleys and rooftops, returning to his position in the shadows.
Because the job didn't end when the danger walked away.
Lin Li stared after the "shadow guard," eyes narrowing as recognition clicked into place.
Wait… I've seen that build before. That hood. That movement.
Then her face brightened like a lantern.
Jasper. That's him. The one I picked.
No wonder Steward Xu hadn't been hovering over her today.
Lin Li's mood lifted so high she didn't even pretend to keep shopping. She climbed back into her carriage and headed home.
Jasper followed on horseback at a steady distance.
He felt the familiar irritation settle in his chest.
I just made an enemy.
If he were Arcane Tier—even Arcane Tier, Rank 1—he wouldn't be wasting thoughts on Cassian Zhang. He'd be thinking about things that mattered. He'd be thinking about how to erase House Zhang's leadership entirely.
For now, Cassian was just a loud insect.
But loud insects still drew attention.
Outside Windcloud City, deep in a dense stretch of forest, a lone figure moved between the trees.
Leather armor. A bow slung in hand—Bronze Tier, Rank 6, the craftsmanship clean enough that it didn't look like scavenged junk. The man carried himself like someone used to distance and patience.
An archer.
If Jasper had seen him, he would've stopped dead. In this world, archers were rare.
Garrick Forge had explained it once: archers were ranged fighters, just like mages, but mages were flashier and easier to scale. A mage could throw fire, lightning, something dramatic—people loved that. Archery could become terrifying, but usually not until Arcane Tier. Below that, it was hard to justify the risk and cost.
A good bow needed the right materials: wood strong enough not to snap, limbs with the right give, a string that could survive real strain. Bronze-grade materials came from Bronze-grade monsters, and harvesting them wasn't as simple as buying rope.
Spider silk worked well for strings, sure—but spiders didn't come in convenient singles. Stronger ones lived in nests, and one bad step meant venom, swarms, and death. Good bow-wood grew in places saturated with energy—exactly the kind of land noble houses and imperial officials claimed, or the kind of wild terrain that ate people alive.
People joked about hunting skeleton archers for enchanted bows, but higher-tier skeletons also moved in groups. You didn't "farm" them. You ran at them and got turned into a pin cushion.
And even if you got a bow, it was usually half-rotted. A bowstring wasn't like a blade you could sharpen. When it snapped in a fight, you didn't get a second chance.
So archers faded from the spotlight, pushed aside by magic and heavy siege weapons.
Still—archers weren't useless.
They were mobile. They could shoot while moving. They could scout. They could kill from angles mages couldn't cover. In sieges, they still mattered, because volume and speed could do what fireworks couldn't.
The man brushed aside a branch, stepped out from the trees, and dusted leaves from his shoulders. He touched the quiver on his back.
Twenty arrows, neatly arranged.
Fifteen were Bronze Tier, Rank 3. Five were Bronze Tier, Rank 5.
Nothing extravagant.
Enough.
With Windcloud City visible in the near distance, the archer started walking.