Five days passed in a state of watchful, yet surprisingly relaxed, waiting. The city of forges, while still humming with a nervous tension due to the recent attacks, was also a vibrant and lively place, and Li Yu insisted they experience it.
Jian Xuan, at first, was internally conflicted. To him, this felt like a waste of precious time. He was a cultivator who had spent every waking moment for the last twenty years in relentless, focused training, trying to shatter the wall that blocked his path. To spend his days wandering markets and eating street food felt frivolous, a distraction from his singular purpose.
But Li Yu's approach to life was infectious in its simplicity. He moved through the city with a calm, quiet curiosity, fully present in every moment. He seemed to find a genuine enjoyment in the simple things: the taste of a perfectly grilled fish, the intricate craftsmanship of a simple wooden toy, the sound of the waves crashing against the city's sea wall.
Xylia, though quiet, seemed to share this philosophy, her sharp eyes taking in every detail of the bustling port with a predator's focused intensity. Even Fat Pig, for all his business acumen, knew how to enjoy the fruits of his labor, laughing and haggling with merchants with an infectious good humor.
Slowly, reluctantly, Jian Xuan found himself being drawn into their rhythm. He followed them through the crowded streets, tasted the strange and delicious foods, and stood with them on the high city walls, watching the sun set over the endless, shimmering sea. He found his mind, for the first time in decades, starting to unclench. The constant, grinding pressure he put on himself began to ease.
On the third day, as he was sitting with the group at a quiet seaside tavern, watching the fishing boats return with their evening catch, he felt it. It was a subtle, internal shift, a tiny tremor in the depths of his soul. The spiritual barrier in his mind, the unbreachable wall that had tormented him for twenty years, seemed to loosen a bit more. A tiny, almost imperceptible crack widened.
He sat there, stunned. For twenty years, he had battered himself against that wall with all the force of his will, with relentless training and life-and-death struggle, and it had not yielded an inch. Now, after three days of simply… living, of relaxing his mind and experiencing the world, it had shifted. Ever since joining Li Yu, this is the second time something like this happened, he had made the right choice in following this kid.
He looked over at Li Yu, who was quietly watching the seagulls dive for fish, a faint, peaceful smile on his face. 'Perhaps,' Jian Xuan thought, a sense of profound, world-altering revelation dawning on him, 'perhaps I have been trying to break down the door, when all I needed to do was find the key.'
On the appointed fifth day, they made their way back to the Iron Wind Forge. The atmosphere within the workshop was different. It was calm, clean, and filled with a quiet reverence. Master Tie Feng stood waiting for them, his expression tired but filled with the deep, profound satisfaction of a creator who has just completed his masterpiece.
Before him, resting on a stand covered in black velvet, was a longsword.
It was a thing of simple, breathtaking beauty. The blade was long and slender, forged from a dark, star-fallen metal that seemed to drink the light of the forge's fires. Faint, intricate patterns, like the ripples on a calm, moonlit pond, were visible in the folded steel.
The crossguard was a simple, elegant bar of silvered metal, and the hilt was wrapped in the dark, supple leather of some deep-sea beast. The sword had no flashy runes, no glowing gems. It radiated an aura of pure, unadulterated sharpness, a quiet promise of lethal perfection.
"It is finished," Master Tie said, his voice a low, proud rumble. He gestured for Jian Xuan to approach.
Jian Xuan stepped forward, his expression one of solemn reverence. He reached out and took the sword. The moment his hand touched the hilt, his eyes widened slightly. The weight was perfect, the balance a flawless extension of his own arm. He could feel the immense, potent spiritual energy that flowed through the blade, a current of power that was both sharp and incredibly stable.
He executed a few, slow practice forms there in the forge. The blade cut through the air with a soft, almost inaudible whisper, leaving faint, shimmering trails of light in its wake. It was a masterwork. It was not his old sword, the companion of many years, but it was a magnificent blade in its own right, a full grade higher than the backup he had been using. It was a worthy weapon.
He sheathed the blade, a new resolve in his eyes. He looked at the fine weapon, a symbol of the new path he now walked, a path that had already, impossibly, shown him more hope in a few short weeks than the previous two decades combined.
"It needs a name," he said softly, more to himself than anyone else. He thought of his new understanding, of the hope that had been rekindled in his heart. "I will call it 'Daybreak'."
He turned to the old smith and gave him a deep, formal bow. "Master Tie, your skill is unparalleled. 'Daybreak' is one of the finest blades I have held in a century. Your reputation, and the reputation of this city, is not in any way misrepresented. I thank you for your fine work."
Master Tie gave a rare, genuine smile, a look of deep satisfaction on his face. "A fine sword is wasted if it does not have a worthy wielder. I can see in your eyes that you are a true swordsman. It is my honor that you will carry my work."
Fat Pig stepped forward to handle the final payment. As they were concluding their business, Master Tie's expression turned serious.
"A word of warning before you go," the old smith said, his voice low. "You seem like capable individuals, but the roads are not safe. The situation has gotten worse these past few days. There have been several more attacks on caravans. They're getting bold, picking on the smaller groups, anyone who looks like an easy target. Be careful on your journey."
They thanked him for the warning and took their leave. As they walked back towards the Golden Shell residence, the weight of the smith's words settled over them.
"This is chaos!" Fat Pig grumbled, his usual cheerfulness replaced by a deep, agitated frown. "Anarchy! If small merchants can't travel safely, the entire supply chain for this city breaks down! It chokes the life out of a place like this. Bad for business. Very bad for business."
"It shows the attackers are confident," Jian Xuan added, his hand resting on the hilt of his new sword, Daybreak. "Or that they have a powerful backer. To operate so brazenly in the sect's own territory… it is a deliberate provocation."
They reached their residence, the mood now serious. They didn't know when Fengliu would finish his investigation on the Golden Tide Clan. It could be days, or it could be weeks. Simply waiting around while the situation in the city deteriorated was not an efficient use of their time. They needed to learn more about these attackers.
It was Li Yu who finally voiced the idea that was forming in all of their minds. He saw the pattern, and he saw a way to use it to their advantage. The best way to find the hunters was to become the prey.
"Then we will be an easy target," he said, his voice calm and steady.
The others turned to look at him.
"Our investigation into the conch is stalled until we hear from Fengliu," he continued, laying out his plan. "But this is a new problem, and a new opportunity. These attackers are looking for small, independent merchants who appear vulnerable. We will give them what they are looking for."
He outlined his plan: they would procure a simple, unadorned Guild carriage, the kind used for low-priority cargo. They would travel with minimal guards—just the four of them, dressed not as powerful cultivators, but as a simple merchant and his hired hands.
They would load the carriage with some mid-grade ore, a tempting but not unbelievable prize. Then, they would travel the Old Southern Road, the very route where the attacks had been most frequent, and wait for the trouble they were now actively seeking to find them.
There was a moment of silence as the others considered the plan.
Fat Pig was the first to agree, a determined, almost predatory glint in his eyes. He didn't think it was dangerous at all; with the Wise Host and his companions, what was there to fear? "An excellent idea, Wise Host!" he boomed. "Proactive! We turn a problem into an opportunity to gather intelligence. Find out who's trying to disrupt our business. It's good for the Guild!"
Xylia simply grinned, a slow, dangerous smile. She cracked her knuckles, her gauntlets letting out a faint, electrical crackle. "Sounds like a hunt. I'm in."
Jian Xuan nodded, his hand resting calmly on Daybreak. "A sound strategy. To draw the serpent from its hole, one must present the proper bait."
The decision was unanimous. Their period of waiting was over. They were no longer just investigating the conch; they were now actively intervening in the growing conflict that plagued the city, a conflict that they were about to drag out of the shadows and into the light.
Their new journey would not take them to a distant land, but just a few miles down a dangerous road, into a trap that they themselves were about to set.