Meanwhile five thousand kilometers The Hidden Lair of the Blood Mist Assassins stood
Deep beneath the roots of the Yanshui Marsh, where the fog hangs low and the air tastes faintly of iron, lies the sanctuary of the Blood Mist Assassins.
The entrance is nothing more than a jagged split between two boulders, half-submerged in stagnant, reed-choked water.
Only those who know where to press on the cold, slick stone can open the concealed passage—a narrow slit that swallows intruders into darkness.
The tunnel within is cramped and serpentine, dripping with the moisture of centuries. The walls are slick black shale, carved with crude, spiraling runes that pulse faintly red in the gloom. A faint mist clings to the air, as if the rocks themselves exhale blood.
Wooden walkways, rotted in places but reinforced with blacksteel spikes, connect several ledges and alcoves carved high into the cavern walls. Each ledge is a personal den for the assassins—low-ceilinged, with hanging charms of bone and faded silk, their mats still stained from past killings.
In a vast, cavernous space, hundreds of candles burned steadily, their soft glow casting long shadows across the stone walls. But then—without warning—one flickered violently and went out, as if snuffed by an unseen hand.
In the far corner, an elderly man sat cross-legged, his face calm but his eyes sharp. Long fingers stroked the silver length of his beard as he murmured in a tone almost too casual for the weight of his words.
"This… can't be good, can it?"
With slow precision, he reached into his sleeve and withdrew a talisman. Holding it between two fingers, he whispered into it, voice low and steady.
"My Lord… Elder Bin Lao is dead."
---
"Father, staying here won't be safe anymore," Jian said as he stepped into Lou Shen's private chambers. His tone carried a rare urgency, his usually steady gaze shadowed with tension. "The Blood Mist Assassins won't stop until I'm dead. I was just attacked by a powerful expert."
Yun Ji, standing slightly behind him, added firmly, "It will be for the best if you move to the Crystal Province. You'll be far safer there—those sect-dominated lands are places even assassins hesitate to tread."
Lou Shen rose slowly from his seat, the heavy silken folds of his robe whispering against the floor. His eyes met Jian's, unwavering.
"I understand your concern, Jian," he said, voice carrying the weight of decades. "But if I ran from my problems… I would never have built this family to what it is today."
Running the family business requires mobility. If I am stuck in the Crystal Province, my competition will overtake me—and that is something I am not prepared to let happen.
Besides, I am not their choiciest target. I could simply hire more guards, but I will not run like a coward.
Yun Ji was stunned. Now this is not your average noble family, he thought. Most people would have jumped at the idea. I see where this brat gets his guts from.
Jian exhaled releasing a sigh of relief, finally giving up. "Fine. I'll go to the Crystal Province and join a sect."
At this, Lou Shen's face lit up. "You will become a cultivator? Oh yes—finally, a cultivator in the family!"
He was overjoyed. This wasn't the first time he'd brought up the matter, but the previous Jian had stubbornly refused to walk the cultivation path.
"Which path will you take?" Lou Shen asked eagerly.
"Martial arts," Jian replied flatly. "I'll be joining the Yin and Yang Unity Sect."
Lou Shen's grin widened. "Dual cultivation wasn't my first choice for you, but I'll take what I can get. Very good! You have my full support—anything you need, just say the word." He left the room practically bouncing like a child offered candy.
In truth, he had always believed that true influence was incomplete without some form of firepower—and that came from direct descendants becoming martial cultivators, which had been a hindrance to him not being accepted as a noble.
He had long known Jian's intellect was razor-sharp; now, with cultivation, that brilliance could be fully unleashed.
In the courtyard, Jian stood silently, his gaze fixed on the wide, dark sky. The air was still, but his mind was anything but. He let the past days' events replay in his head like a slow-burning fire.
"Womb of ashes," he murmured, a smile curling at his lips as a woman's face surfaced in his thoughts. "Well… a hundred years is still a long time, isn't it?" he said, shaking the image away.
A sudden gust of wind swept across the courtyard, ruffling his hair and tugging at his robes.
Jian's eyes flicked upward.
A colossal aerial beast glided overhead, its massive shadow swallowing the sunlight. Perched upon its head was a woman clad in polished armor, her golden hair gleaming like a halo even in the darkness of the night. Her eyes—sharp, cold—were fixed directly on him.
Yun Ji appeared at his side without a sound.
"That," he said, following Jian's gaze, "is Lady Eleanor of Grigein, the Emperor's royal guard. She's in charge of the movement for the eradication of the Blood Mist Assassins—their network has spread like rot through the empire."
Jian said nothing, watching the distant figure.
"She likely took this route to see for herself the face behind the new intelligence she's received on her case," Yun Ji continued.
The winged beast carried her farther and farther away until she became no more than a speck against the vast sky, the oppressive weight of her presence lingering even after she was gone.
Walking back into the mansion, Jian moved with unhurried steps, the weight of the day settling over him like a cloak. The hallway was quieter than usual—eerily so.
He pushed his door open with a slow creak, the dim light from the hallway spilling into the room shimering on shiny surface.
On the bed, Maria stirred at the sound, her brow furrowing even before her eyes fluttered open. The moment her gaze found him, she froze for a heartbeat, then quickly sat up, scanning the room like prey expecting a predator.
He crossed the distance in a few strides. "You're safe now," Jian murmured, his voice low, steady—like he was anchoring her to the present. Without hesitation, he pulled her into his arms. She tensed at first, but the warmth of his embrace, the faint scent of sandalwood clinging to his robes, made her relax against his chest.
Her fingers clutched the fabric at his back. "What… happened?" she asked, her voice small, as if she already knew the answer.
"We were attacked," Jian replied, tone softer than usual. He stroked her hair slowly, each pass of his fingers gentle yet deliberate, grounding her. "But it's over. You're safe. No one will touch you while I'm here."
She buried her face against him, breathing in the reassurance his presence brought. Her body trembled, but she didn't cry—perhaps because she knew tears wouldn't change the cruelty of the world they lived in.
"I was afraid…" she whispered, voice almost lost in the fabric of his robe.
"I know," he said, leaning his chin lightly atop her head. "But I'm here now, Maria. And I'm not going anywhere."
For a long while, neither spoke. The quiet between them wasn't empty—it was heavy, filled with unspoken promises and the faint, unacknowledged truth that danger might co
me again. But for now, in the small space between their heartbeats, there was safety.