The Crimson threshold
The road leading away from the Han Clan was a jagged vein of red clay cutting through a forest of skeletal, white-barked trees. The carriage jolted over every root, the rhythmic thumping sounding to Han Feng like the ticking of a cosmic clock. Inside, the air was stagnant, heavy with the scent of Lin Yue's medicinal herbs and the metallic tang of Han Feng's cooling Void energy.
Han Feng sat perfectly still, his eyes closed, but his mind was a storm of data. The Void Archive was currently a mess of fractured timelines and flickering warnings. By confronting the 'Grey Wanderer,' he had forced the universe to recalculate.
[System Message: Synchronization 1.05%]
[Warning: Your existence is now a 'High-Frequency' anomaly.]
[Causality Correction in progress: The Heavens have designated the next 100 miles as a 'Trial Zone.']
Trial Zone, Han Feng mused, his fingers twitching. They aren't just sending assassins anymore; they are warping the very geography to kill me.
He opened his eyes and looked at Lin Yue. She was staring out the window, her hand resting on the hilt of her dagger. The 'Celestial Frost' aura was beginning to seep from her pores, turning the glass of the window into a canvas of intricate, frozen ferns. She looked fragile, yet there was a new, cold sharpness in the set of her jaw.
""We need to stop,"" Han Feng said suddenly.
The coachman, whose name was Old Chen, pulled the horses to a halt. He looked back, his eyes wide with terror. ""Young Master, we've only been on the road for three hours. The Azure Cloud Sect expects us at the border by dawn."
" ""The Azure Cloud Sect is irrelevant,"" Han Feng said, stepping out of the carriage. ""Look ahead.""
"Nestled in a dip between two hills was an inn. It was a sprawling, three-story structure of blackened wood and sagging thatch. A sign hung from a rusted chain, swaying in a wind that no one could feel. It was called The Inn of Severed Tongues.
The Second Piece Han Feng's gaze sharpened. In the previous life, he had never visited this place. It didn't exist in the Han Clan's territory. But the Archive knew it.
[Memory Retrieval: The Crimson Cellar Incident]
[Historical Note: This inn is a 'Spatial Anchor' for the 'Grave of the First Sword.' Inside, hidden beneath the floorboards of the kitchen, is the 'Breath of the Void-Slayer'—a fragment of a broken divine weapon.]
This is it, Han Feng thought. The weapon that can actually process my Void Qi without shattering.
He turned to Lin Yue, who had stepped out beside him. She shivered, her Frost Physique reacting to the unnatural cold radiating from the inn. ""This place... it feels like a graveyard, Feng-ge.""
""It is,"" Han Feng replied. ""But it's also a forge. Stay behind me. Do not speak to anyone inside. If they ask for your name, give them a lie. Words have weight in a place like this.""
They entered the inn. The interior was dimly lit by candles that burned with a pale, blue flame. The air smelled of old parchment and fermented blood. Half a dozen travelers sat at various tables, their faces obscured by deep hoods. They didn't look up as the group entered.
An old woman with skin like crumpled yellow silk stood behind the counter. She was cleaning a glass with a cloth that looked like a strip of burial shroud.
""Welcome to the Threshold,"" she croaked, her voice sounding like dry leaves skittering across a tombstone. ""Three rooms? Or just one for the night?"
Han Feng walked to the counter, his steps silent. He didn't pull out gold. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a single, withered petal from the 'Root of the Earth-Eater' he had consumed. He placed it on the wood.
The old woman stopped cleaning. Her milky eyes focused on the petal. The ""Void Perception"" showed Han Feng the greed swirling in her soul—it was a thick, oily black smoke.
""I want the room directly above the kitchen,"" Han Feng said. ""And I want the kitchen cleared for two hours at midnight.""
The woman leaned in, her breath smelling of bitter almonds. ""That's a heavy price for a kitchen, boy. What are you cooking that requires such privacy?""
""I'm cooking a future,"" Han Feng said, his voice dropping to a low, predatory hum. ""And if you try to peek into the pot, you'll find that the Void is very good at eating tongues.""
[System Alert: Threat Level Successfully Calibrated.]
[The Hostess's 'Greed' has been suppressed by 'Fear.']
As they walked up the creaking stairs, Han Feng felt a familiar, cold sensation at the back of his neck. He stopped and looked down into the main hall.
Sitting in the far corner was a man in tattered, grey robes. He was eating a bowl of plain rice, his movements slow and methodical. He didn't have a staff, but the bone-white staff from the Grey Wanderer's memory seemed to flicker in and out of existence beside him.
[Warning: The persistent stalker has arrived.]
[Interaction Level: Observation. Do not engage.]
Han Feng tightened his grip on his sister's hand. He didn't look back. He led them into the room and locked the door, immediately drawing a series of 'Void Seals' in the air with his blood.
""Lin Yue,"" he said, turning to her. Her face was pale in the blue candlelight. ""I need you to guard Ling-er. If anyone—anyone—knocks on that door, use the Frost-Bite Needle. Don't ask questions. Don't wait for them to speak.""
Lin Yue looked at him, her eyes searching his. The ""Secret Love"" vibe was palpable; she wanted to ask him what he was doing, why he was risking everything, but she saw the Sovereign in his eyes and understood.
""I'll protect her,"" she said, her voice steadying. ""Just... come back. I don't want to be alone in this world again."
" Han Feng paused at the window. For a second, he wasn't the Sovereign; he was the man who had failed her once before. He reached out and touched her cheek. His skin was cold, but hers was colder.
In this life,"" he promised, ""no one walks alone.""
At midnight, Han Feng slipped out of the room. The inn was silent, but the silence was filled with the sound of thousands of voices whispering just beyond the range of hearing. He moved like a shadow, descending the back stairs into the kitchen.
The floorboards were slick with grease and age. He moved to the center of the room and knelt. The Archive highlighted a specific plank, marked with a faint, jagged rune.
He pressed his palm against the wood and let his Void Qi flow. The wood didn't break; it simply vanished, erased from existence. Below was a small, stone-lined chamber. In the center, floating in a pool of dark, viscous liquid, was a fragment of a blade. It was no longer than a man's forearm, blacker than a starless night, and humming with a frequency that made Han Feng's teeth ache.
[Item Identified: The Void-Slayer Fragment (Divine Tier - Damaged)]
[Note: This weapon is currently 'Hungry.' It requires a sacrifice of 1,000 Spirit Stones or... a pint of 'Sovereign-Grade' blood.]
Han Feng looked at his own reflection in the dark liquid. He didn't have 1,000 spirit stones. He didn't even have ten.
He pulled out his broken iron sword and slit his palm.
As the silver-tinted blood dripped into the pool, the kitchen began to shake. The blue candles flared into pillars of fire. From the hallway, the sound of heavy, rhythmic footsteps began to approach.
Thump. Thump. Thump. The Grey
Wanderer was coming. And Han Feng's hand was still stuck to the blade, the 'Void-Slayer' drinking his life force with a ravenous, desperate thirst."
The kitchen of the Inn of Severed Tongues was no longer a place of grease and salt; it had become a ritual chamber. The silver-tinted blood flowing from Han Feng's palm didn't just drip; it was pulled by a magnetic force, spiraling through the air like liquid mercury before being inhaled by the black metal fragment.
[System Message: Divine Link Established.]
[Weapon Synchronization: 12%... 24%... 38%...]
[Warning: Your 'Mortal Heart' is reaching critical RPM. The Void-Slayer is consuming more than blood; it is eating your potential.]
Han Feng's vision blurred. The blue candles flared into towers of cold, spectral flame that cast long, distorted shadows against the soot-stained walls. He could feel the fragment's history—it wasn't just a piece of steel. It was a tooth pulled from the mouth of a dead god, a relic that had once severed the stars themselves.
Drink your fill, Han Feng thought, his teeth bared in a snarl of agony and triumph. I have enough blood to drown a world. Just give me the edge I need to cut the Heavens.
The heavy, rhythmic thumping from the hallway stopped. The kitchen door didn't open; it simply ceased to exist, turning into a fine grey mist. The Grey Wanderer stood there, his bone-white staff glowing with a sickly, opalescent light.
""You are persistent, anomaly,"" the Wanderer spoke. The voice was a cacophony of a thousand dying whispers. ""But you are trying to stitch together a shroud with thread made of your own life. The Void-Slayer was broken for a reason. Its very existence is a crime against the Order.""
Han Feng didn't look up from the pool of dark liquid. He felt the fragment vibrating against his palm, finally cooling, finally accepting him. He slowly pulled his hand back, and as he did, the black metal rose from the liquid, fusing itself to the broken iron hilt he had brought with him.
The result was a jagged, ugly weapon—a butcher's blade made of absolute darkness.
""Order is just the name the parasites give to their dinner schedule,"" Han Feng said, standing up. His legs felt like water, but his grip on the new blade was steady. ""You call me a 'blotch.' I call myself the 'Eraser.'""
The Wanderer moved. He didn't run; he simply was in front of Han Feng. The bone staff descended with the force of a falling mountain, the air screaming as it was displaced by the holy energy of the Heavens.
Han Feng didn't block. He knew his current bones would shatter like dry twigs if he met that force head-on. Instead, he leaned into the strike.
[Void Archive: Tactical Execution Initiated.]
[Angle of Deflection: 4.2 Degrees.]
[Void-Slayer Function: 'Severing the Connection.']
He swung the jagged black blade. It didn't strike the staff; it struck the light surrounding the staff. As the blade passed through the opalescent glow, the Wanderer's energy didn't just dissipate—it was cut. The heavy momentum of the staff vanished as its spiritual connection to the Wanderer was momentarily erased.
The Wanderer stumbled, his smokey eyes swirling with a sudden, sharp confusion. He had never seen a mortal weapon do more than resist; he had never seen one deny his power.
""My turn,"" Han Feng whispered.
He stepped into the Wanderer's guard, his movement a blur of Sovereign-level footwork. He didn't aim for the head. He aimed for the Wanderer's feet—the anchor points that allowed the entity to manifest in the physical world.
The black blade whistled through the air. As it connected with the Wanderer's shins, there was no sound of cutting meat. There was only the sound of a vacuum being filled. The Wanderer's legs began to unravel into grey smoke, being sucked into the jagged edge of the Void-Slayer.
The Wanderer let out a sound that wasn't a scream—it was a frequency that shattered every piece of glass in the inn. Upstairs, Han Feng could hear the muffled sounds of his sister crying and the sharp crack of Lin Yue's ice-magic activating.
I have to end this now, Han Feng realized. My heart is failing.
He gathered every ounce of the 'Root of the Earth-Eater' energy remaining in his gut and funneled it into the blade. The Void-Slayer didn't just grow dark; it began to pull the shadows from the corners of the room, wrapping itself in a cloak of absolute night.
""Begone, janitor,"" Han Feng roared.
He delivered a vertical cleave. The blade didn't just hit the Wanderer; it cut through the floor, the foundation of the inn, and the very fabric of the spatial anchor.
The explosion was silent. A wave of black force rippled outward, and when it cleared, the Grey Wanderer was gone. Only a few wisps of grey smoke remained, dissipating into the cold night air.
Han Feng fell to his knees, his chest heaving. The Void-Slayer was stone-cold in his hand, its hunger temporarily sated.
[System Message: High-Level Entity Repelled.]
[Reward: Void-Slayer Synchronization 52%.]
[Critical Warning: Your 'Life Force' is at 12%. Immediate rest and medical intervention required.]
He tried to stand, but the world tilted. Before he could hit the floor, a pair of cold, slender arms caught him. The scent of winter jasmine and mountain herbs filled his senses.
Lin Yue was there. Her face was streaked with tears, her eyes glowing with a faint, icy light. She didn't look at the ruined kitchen or the black blade. She only looked at him.
"You fool,"" she whispered, her voice cracking. ""You said we wouldn't walk alone. But you keep trying to die alone.""
Han Feng looked up at her, a weak, blood-stained smile on his lips. He reached out with his trembling hand and touched her face. ""I'm not... dying. I'm just... taking a nap.""
As he lost consciousness in her arms, the Archive pulsed one final time.
[Global Event Triggered: The 'Sovereign's Shadow' has been detected by the Great Sects.]
[The Hunt has officially begun.]
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