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Chapter 88: Golden Pawn

  Leather boots struck the cold stone floor with rhythmic precision, the sound echoing off the high, vaulted ceiling of the Junior Elder Council Room.

  Pia Xin walked to the center of the chamber, his light blue hair cascading over his pristine robes.

  His sharp gray eyes swept the room, carrying a weight that made even his peers straighten their postures.

  He stopped before a long, wooden table where a grim display had been laid out.

  "What do we have here?" he asked, his voice smooth but underlaid with a glacial chill.

  A Junior Elder with flowing black hair and unassuming brown eyes stepped forward from the shadows.

  He gestured to the slab.

  "An Inner Disciple," the dark-haired Elder reported, his voice devoid of emotion.

  "Bisected at the waist. The cut was so clean it severed the spirit along with the flesh."

  Pia Xin raised an eyebrow, leaning over the corpse.

  The edges of the wound were smooth, cauterized not by heat, but by sheer speed and killing intent.

  "And the witnesses?" Pia Xin asked.

  "Four Outer Disciples found the body," the reporting Elder continued, sliding a parchment report across the table.

  "One died—not to the killer, but to a beast."

  Pia Xin’s gray eyes narrowed. "You're telling me three Outer Disciples survived an encounter with a cultivator capable of this?"

  He tapped the dead Inner Disciple's chest. "And they had the energy left over to kill a beast of..."

  He scanned the report, his finger pausing. "...Body Tempering caliber?"

  "It seems impossible on paper," the dark-haired Elder admitted.

  "But the beast's carcass was recovered. A Spider-Scorpion. Its venom sac was missing, likely destroyed in the battle, but the kill is confirmed."

  From the corner of the room, a grunt broke the silence.

  Gu Mingshao, a Junior Elder with white, slicked-back hair, leaned against a stone pillar, his arms crossed.

  He stared at the ceiling, looking bored.

  "It’s not impossible," Gu Mingshao said, his voice rough. "Not if they were with her."

  A soft, melodic chuckle drifted from the other side of the room.

  Su Mingzhe, whose beauty rivaled the sect’s finest jade maidens, sat elegantly on a high-backed chair.

  He brushed a strand of brown hair from his face, his green eyes dancing with amusement.

  "Indeed," Su Mingzhe purred. "The 'Pink Whirlwind.' Ying Xia. She has been making quite the name for herself, hasn't she?"

  An older Junior Elder, his face mapped with wrinkles and beard white as snow, shuffled forward.

  He placed a sheet of paper on the table—the list of the mission group.

  "Ying Xia," the old man wheezed, tapping the name.

  "A prodigy of the spear. Talented. Ferocious. It is no wonder they survived with her leading the charge."

  The three powerful Junior Elders—Pia Xin, Gu Mingshao, and Su Mingzhe—converged on the list.

  Their gazes all landed on the name Ying Xia. They nodded in agreement, praising her potential, her strength, her future.

  But their eyes didn't stay there.

  Almost imperceptibly, Pia Xin’s gray gaze slid down one line.

  Bi Kan.

  His eyes glowed faintly. The Alchemist. The boy who identified the ingredients by smell alone. The one bound by my oath.

  To his left, Su Mingzhe’s green eyes lingered on the same name. A predatory smile tugged at the corner of his perfect lips.

  The boy who stood before me on the stairs. The one who resisted my spiritual pressure when even veteran disciples crumbled. He played the fool, but his eyes... they were calculating.

  In the corner, Gu Mingshao’s eyes narrowed as he pictured the duel he had watched from the rooftop.

  That explosive technique. The steam rising from his skin. That wasn't a sect art. That boy is hiding fangs sharper than anyone realizes.

  "That talent," Su Mingzhe said aloud, breaking the silent reverie. "Whichever Elder takes her under their wing will be richly rewarded."

  "Agreed," Pia Xin said, his face a mask of indifference. "Ying Xia is a golden goose."

  "A pillar for the future," Gu Mingshao added, pushing off the wall.

  They smiled at each other, a room full of sharks pretending to be vegetarians.

  They would let the rest of the sect fight over the loud, flashy girl with the pink hair.

  Let the Grand Elders have the girl, Pia Xin thought, turning away from the list. I must secure the boy. His alchemy is the key to my ascension.

  I want to see him break, Su Mingzhe mused, inspecting his fingernails. Or perhaps... see if he bites back.

  I need that technique, Gu Mingshao decided. I will find out where he learned it.

  "Hohoho!" The old bearded Elder laughed, oblivious to the undercurrents.

  "I have no doubt the Grand Elders are already watching her! She has the energy to lead the next generation!"

  Pia Xin slammed his hand onto the table, the sound cracking like a whip. The laughter died instantly.

  "Enough discussion of potential recruits," Pia Xin commanded, his authority filling the room.

  His gaze returned to the bisected corpse, the amusement gone from his eyes.

  "We must focus on the immediate threat." He traced the clean cut on the dead disciple.

  "This 'Rogue Cultivator' walks our grounds, slaughtering our own as if they were cattle."

  He looked up, his grey eyes cold as steel.

  "He cannot be allowed to leave these woods alive."

  The Mission Hall was a chaotic sea of shouting voices and shoving bodies.

  A fresh poster had been slapped onto the bounty board, the ink still wet, but it drew the disciples like flies to a fresh carcass.

  "One... One hundred Middle-Grade Spirit Stones?!"

  An Outer Disciple’s jaw dropped, his eyes bulging as he read the figure. "With that kind of wealth, I could buy enough pills to force my way into the Body Tempering Realm! I wouldn't have to scrape by on gathering missions for ten years!"

  Thud.

  An Inner Disciple shoved him aside with a sneer. "Move, trash. You think you can spend it?" The older disciple laughed, a harsh, greedy sound. "This bounty is my ticket out. I’ll retire to a mortal city, buy a mansion, and surround myself with concubines. I won't have to cultivate another day in my life!"

  Si Gun stood at the edge of the frenzy, his fingers trembling as they traced the rough sketch of the Rogue on the poster.

  One hundred stones...

  His throat went dry. The sect didn't offer this kind of reward for simple bandits. They offered it for nightmares.

  How? Si Gun’s mind raced, sweat beading on his upper lip. Bi Kan encountered this monster. He fought him. And he walked away breathing?

  He clenched his fist, crumbling the edge of the poster. That trash... is he hiding his strength? Or does he possess a luck that defies the heavens?

  A few paces away, sitting atop a stone railing, Leng Wuxin polished his scabbard. The Sword Maniac ignored the greedy clamor, his sharp eyes fixed on nothing in particular.

  "That girl..." Leng Wuxin murmured, a feral grin tugging at his lips. "She drove off a killer worth a hundred spirit stones. And she slew a beast that would make an Inner Disciple hesitate."

  He stood up, sheathing his blade with a decisive click.

  "Her swordplay was raw talent," he whispered, his hand resting on the hilt. "But with a spear... she is a calamity. I must see it. I must clash with that golden light."

  Deep in the shadows of the hall’s pillars, Wei Lingfeng watched the groups forming. He was alone, nursing the bruise on his ego left by the Junior Elders.

  "If I present this Rogue's head..." Wei Lingfeng whispered, his voice a low hiss. "The humiliation will be washed away. The Sect will have to acknowledge me."

  His grip tightened on his hilt until the leather creaked.

  "Dusk," he decided, his eyes gleaming with a cold, blue light. "I will hunt him at dusk. Even if he is slippery, my Eternal Moonlight Blade will sever him in two. A fitting end"

  Deep within the damp, suffocating trenches of the outlying forest, silence reigned.

  Drag... Drag...

  Wei Zing emerged from the mist, his pristine scholarly robes stained with mud. He pushed his wire-rimmed glasses up his nose, smearing a streak of dark blood across the lens.

  "I let myself get distracted," he muttered, sounding more annoyed than exhausted.

  His hand gripped the leg of a massive, bloated frog—a Marsh-Hopper the size of a carriage. He dragged the carcass behind him effortlessy, leaving a wide furrow in the mud.

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  "A creature of the Screeching Croak... here?" Wei Zing kicked the dead frog, his brow furrowed in frustration. "It’s destroying the local ecosystem. The food chain is collapsing."

  He looked toward the dense treeline, his eyes cold. "The Research Team... I'm positive now. They know something is coming. They’re hiding it."

  "Hm?"

  A shadow fell over him. Wei Zing glanced over his shoulder, looking up toward the jagged cliffs that bordered the trench.

  Standing atop the precipice, silhouetted against the blinding sun, was a creature of myth. Its hide was plated with obsidian scales that seemed to drink the light. Three jagged horns crowned its head, crackling with energy.

  "Hoh," Wei Zing said, dropping the frog's leg. He offered a polite, terrified smile. "And who might you be?"

  The Obsidian Beast snorted. It didn't roar. It simply released the energy it had been holding.

  KRAKOOM!

  A pillar of purple thunder hammered down from the heavens, erasing the spot where Wei Zing stood. The ground liquefied. Trees shattered into splinters. The dust storm billowed outward, morphing the lush forest into a cratered ruin in the span of a single heartbeat.

  "Oh my," a voice whispered from the dust, sounding very far away.

  The sun began to dip, casting long, bloody shadows through the trees near the border villages.

  Perched high on a thick branch, the Rogue Cultivator watched.

  Below him, a squad of five Outer Disciples moved in a tactical formation, checking bushes and marking trails.

  "Those brats hindered my plans earlier," the Rogue whispered, his voice dry as dead leaves. "I suppose it was inevitable."

  He didn't look at them. His dead eyes stared straight ahead, focusing on an invisible horizon.

  "Jade Pathways," he breathed, the name tasting like bile. "They’re thorough. I’ll give them that."

  His hand brushed over the empty air in front of him.

  "Just you wait. I will demolish your entire sect."

  He crouched on the branch, his muscles coiling.

  "I'll butcher every single one of your disciples. I will crumble your foundations until nothing remains but ash."

  He fell.

  There was no sound, no warning cry. He simply dropped from the canopy like a stone.

  "H-Hey! It's hi—"

  Schwing.

  The shout was cut short by a wet tearing sound. The lead disciple stood frozen for a second before his top half slowly slid off his bottom half.

  "One," the Rogue counted, his voice bored.

  "Ambush!" the remaining disciples screamed.

  They acted fast, slapping talismans onto the ground.

  "We've got you!"

  Fwip-Fwip-Fwip!

  Qi-imbued thorns erupted from the earth, weaving together into a deadly, constricting cage around the Rogue.

  The spikes were razor-sharp, designed to bleed a target dry.

  The Rogue’s eyes widened slightly. "Talismans... They’re just like my cards."

  "The reward is ours!" a disciple yelled, raising his sword to strike the trapped figure.

  The Rogue didn't dodge. He looked down at the dirt.

  His body seemed to lose its solidity. He dove headfirst into the hard earth as if it were a pond.

  Splash.

  The ground seemingly rippled. He vanished beneath the soil, passing under the cage of thorns.

  "W-What?!"

  The dirt behind the cheering disciple exploded upwards.

  The Rogue surged from the ground like a shark breaching water, his blade flashing in the twilight.

  Slash.

  "Two."

  The remaining disciples froze as their companion fell.

  The silence of the forest was broken only by the Rogue’s calm counting, and then, by screams that made the birds high above shiver in their nests.

  While the sect outside buzzed with the thrill of the hunt, a different kind of volatility simmered within the cramped walls of Bi Kan’s dorm room.

  The air was thick, heavy with the metallic tang of processed venom and the earthy scent of burnt herbs.

  Bi Kan hunched over his dented furnace, the heat radiating against his face. In his palm sat a single, small pill. It was a violent shade of purple, pulsing faintly as if it had a heartbeat of its own.

  The cure for Mi Jin.

  He stared at it, but his mind drifted back to the suffocating silence of the library.

  The Jaded Knowledge Library

  "I can't let you view this book, Junior Brother."

  Wei Zing smiled, a polite, scholarly expression that didn't reach his eyes.

  He slammed the heavy, black-bound tome shut with a thud, sending a cloud of ancient dust spiraling into the shaft of sunlight.

  "These records are restricted to Inner Disciples and above. Sect rules are absolute."

  Bi Kan’s hand had tightened on the edge of the desk. He needed that formula.

  "However," Wei Zing continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I may create a loophole."

  He picked up his ceramic mug, blowing gently on the steaming coffee.

  "You just have to tell me what you need to know, and I may provide the answer verbally. That way, you never 'viewed' the book."

  Bi Kan had hesitated, then listed the specific properties he needed to counteract.

  As he spoke, Wei Zing listened, his pen scratching rhythmically against his ledger.

  When Bi Kan finished, Wei Zing didn't answer immediately. He set his mug down.

  "Oh?" A soft chuckle escaped him.

  "You want to know the cure? You know, Bi Kan, I've been recording everything you've been reading these past few weeks."

  Wei Zing leaned over the desk, his lenses flashing opaque white.

  "And I've come to a conclusion about your... talents."

  Bi Kan took a sharp step back, his muscles coiling, ready to run or fight.

  Wei Zing noticed the defensive shift. He raised his hands in a placating gesture.

  "Don't worry. I'm just a curious researcher, Bi Kan. Knowledge is everything to me."

  His finger tapped lightly on a book resting on the corner of his desk.

  It wasn't a manual or a bestiary.

  It was a book titled: The Slave Alchemist.

  "You don't need to worry," Wei Zing murmured, his finger lingering on the title. "I won't tell anyone."

  Bi Kan let out a long, shaky breath, the memory fading.

  How can I trust you, Wei Zing? He clenched his fist around the purple pill.

  He stood up, shaking the stiffness from his limbs. He turned to the door, where Ying Xia was resting her back against the wood, her arms crossed and her eyes closed.

  "You've got the cure done?" She cracked one green eye open, inspecting him.

  Bi Kan nodded, tucking the pill into a jade vial. "Yes. Let's get to Mi Jin quickly. Every second counts."

  Xia pushed herself off the door, stretching her arms above her head. "About time. I was getting hungry waiting for you to finish cooking that poison-ball."

  She reached for the handle.

  Click.

  As the door swung open.

  They froze.

  Standing on their meager doorstep, framed by the setting sun, was a figure that looked as if he had descended from a painting in the Imperial Palace.

  He wore robes of pristine white silk embroidered with gold thread, and a heavy red cape draped over his shoulders that fluttered in a wind only he seemed to feel. His hair was a cascade of liquid gold, reaching down to his shoulders, and his eyes were two pools of molten amber, looking down at them with an air of supreme, natural superiority.

  A Junior Elder.

  Xia’s instincts screamed. She dropped into a low combat stance instantly, her finger which wore the spatial ring twitched. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard.

  "Who..." she started, her voice tight.

  Bi Kan stepped in front of her. He didn't draw a weapon, but his aura condensed, sharp and cold. He shielded her from the golden gaze.

  The Junior Elder didn't flinch at Xia’s hostility. He leaned back slightly, a look of mild amusement crossing his flawless features.

  "You must be Ying Xia," he said, his voice smooth and rich, like expensive wine. "The Outer Sect's revered 'Pink Whirlwind'."

  He leaned forward again, inspecting her like one would inspect a prize horse.

  Xia took a step back, unnerved. "What brings a Junior Elder to our humble abode?"

  Bi Kan held his ground, his eyes locked on the Elder’s throat. "State your business."

  The Junior Elder sighed, the sound elegant and weary. "You do not need to be so hostile, little ones. I mean no harm." His amber eyes lingered on Xia. "That girl is an exceptional talent. The sect is abuzz with her name."

  He raised his right hand.

  Flash.

  A blinding golden light erupted from his palm. When it faded, a cream-colored envelope sealed with a heavy gold wax stamp hovered in the air.

  "You are invited later this evening."

  He glanced briefly at Bi Kan, his gaze dismissive, before returning to Xia. "You've been permitted to bring a plus one. I assume you will bring your... guard dog."

  With a flick of his finger, the letter drifted through the air, landing softly in Xia’s bewildered hands.

  "That'll be all," the Elder said, adjusting his red cape. "I expect you to be at dinner tonight, Pink Whirlwind. Do not disappoint."

  As the man turned around.

  His body dissolved into a swirl of golden autumn leaves caught in a sudden gust, scattering into the wind and vanishing completely.

  The space where he had stood was empty.

  "W-What just happened..." Xia gasped, slumping against the doorframe. She stared at the golden letter in her hands as if it were a bomb.

  Bi Kan stared at the empty air, his face pale. He rubbed his temples, feeling a headache building behind his eyes.

  "Your reputation has reached the ears of the Junior Elders," Bi Kan muttered, his voice grim.

  "It won't be a surprise if you've been personally invited to an Elder's faction."

  His hand drifted to his chest, feeling the phantom weight of the Black Sword in his Soul Sea.

  A cold knot tightened in his stomach.

  If we go to this dinner... and things go wrong... will my sword even be able to cut him?

  Bi Kan stared at the letter, his brow furrowed. "You've really added some nuisances to our plate, Xia." He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair.

  "So, which Junior Elder invited you? I might know them from my... research."

  Xia looked down at the cream envelope, squinting in the dimming light. "U-Uhh..." She turned it over in her hands.

  "The crest... it has a name stamped into the wax."

  Bi Kan raised an eyebrow.

  He leaned in close, their cheeks brushing as he peered over her shoulder to read the tiny, elegant script.

  "Han."

  The world tilted.

  Bi Kan’s legs gave out. He collapsed to his knees with a choked gasp, his hands hitting the wooden floorboards hard.

  "H-Hey!" Xia yelped, dropping the letter to catch him by the shoulders. "What's gotten into you?! I knew you shouldn't have made that cure yet! You're burnt out!"

  "N-No..." Bi Kan wheezed, clutching at his chest as if his heart were trying to escape. "I was just... surprised..."

  There's no way. His mind spun, rejecting the reality in front of him.

  "Han"? How can this be? This must be a mistake... a trap... or a cruel joke.

  "T-That name..." He stuttered, allowing Xia to haul him back to his feet. His face was devoid of color.

  Xia shivered, her teeth chattering audibly. "What about it...? Is it a really scary family? Is that Junior Elder a monster?!" She glanced fearfully at the discarded letter.

  Bi Kan clenched his fists, staring at Xia with a mixture of dread and disbelief.

  "I don't know how to tell you this," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I'm not even sure... how I feel about it."

  High above the Outer Sect, perched on the ornate balcony of the North Watchtower, Elder En watched the scene below.

  "Damn it!"

  CRACK.

  Elder En kicked the stone railing with enough force to shear it from its base. The heavy slab of rock plummeted silently into the misty abyss of the cliffs below.

  "That guy got to her first?!" Elder En rasped, his face twisting in frustration. "There's no way I can compete anymore! He moves too fast!"

  Beside him, a Direct Disciple leaned against a pillar, watching her master's tantrum. She cleared her throat.

  "Maybe we can still convince her somehow?"

  Her light green hair danced in the wind, framing a face sprinkled with freckles that highlighted her amber eyes. "Last I heard, she wields a spear."

  She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "We own the weapon market within this sect. We can offer her our finest blacksmiths. We could even leverage that Rune Master we recently contacted."

  Elder En shook his head, his knuckles white as he gripped the remaining wall. "That is possible... but we can't act now. We must wait for tomorrow. If we intervene tonight, it will be seen as a direct insult to the Han family."

  He spat over the edge. "And I don't want to get into a political mess right now. It's chaotic enough as it is." He slammed his fist into the stone. "That damned Sect Master... Why did he have to disappear?!"

  On the opposite side of the valley, atop the East Tower, Elder Zu sighed deeply.

  He held a beautifully wrapped box in his hands—a gift meant for a certain pink-haired prodigy. With a shrug, he tossed it over his shoulder into the trash bin.

  Thump.

  "Welp, that's that!"

  Elder Zu let out a carefree, booming laugh that echoed in the tower.

  "That damned bastard got to her first. The Pink Whirlwind has been snatched away by a large breeze."

  A Junior Elder standing behind him scratched his head, looking disappointed.

  "We might still be able to secure her, Elder Zu... I mean, we're one of the only factions in this sect with a direct connection to a Master Alchemist!"

  Elder Zu waved his hand dismissively. "No. Even that isn't enough leverage. That bastard who invited her... he has connections that make ours look like child's play."

  He turned, his playful demeanor vanishing into a cold, hard resolve.

  "Welp! It's time to change tactics. I'll cast my vote for her instead."

  A cruel grin spread across his face. "I want that girl to become Sect Master soon. Maybe she'll collapse that bastard's damned family once and for all."

  He grunted, his heavy robes swirling as he marched toward the stairs. "Come. The game has changed."

  Atop the highest pagoda, where the wind whipped with an untamed freedom, Pia Xin stood alone.

  His light blue hair flowed freely in the breeze.

  He let out a soft sigh, his gray eyes watching the distant figures of the departing Elders.

  "It's breezy today," he murmured to himself. "I wonder if that girl will truly choose them. It's hard to say..."

  His gaze drifted downward, past the chaos of the courtyards, until it found the small, insignificant dorm room.

  "That boy..."

  Pia Xin’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of interest cutting through his usual calm.

  "He's improved from the last time I saw him. The flow of his Qi is more stable, more condensed."

  He shook his head slightly. "I was too busy handling matters for Grand Elder Linghu Qixia..."

  A faint, calculating smile touched his lips.

  "No matter. I can still recruit him. I will nourish his abilities... It's rare for a person to be so well-versed in alchemy despite his age."

  He leaned into the wind, his robes billowing around him.

  "Perhaps when he turns fifteen, I will make my move. But by then..." His expression hardened. "...I must watch out for others discovering his secrets."

  Within their room, Bi Kan finally opened his eyes.

  The initial shock had receded, replaced by a cold, hard clarity that was far more terrifying.

  "Alright, Xia," he said, his voice quiet. "I'll tell you who they are... but you really have to know this. You've been in this sect for months now."

  Xia let out a nervous, shameful laugh, twisting the hem of her sleeve. "J-Just cut to the chase, Bi Kan! I'm dying to know!"

  He let out an exasperated sigh, a sound heavy with the weight of the information he was about to impart.

  He looked Xia straight in the eye, forcing her to meet his grim gaze.

  "You've been... invited by... the Han Family."

  He traced the words in the air with an invisible finger, letting them hang between them, heavy and sharp.

  "The Family of a Grand Elder."

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