Chapter 12: The Ripples of a Stone in the Dark
General Kaelen of the Phoenix Crest was a pragmatic man. He was also a loyal subject of the Sunfall Empire. A asset of the magnitude of the "Blind Reaper" was not something to be hoarded by a single border sect; it was a strategic resource that could alter the empire's fortunes in its eternal war against the Abyss.
Yet, he had made a vow. He would not speak of what he had seen.
He was a general, however. He knew the value of information. So, that evening, from his private study in the fortress-city of Aethelburg, he did not speak. He wrote.
The letter was addressed to the Imperial War Council in the capital. It was a dry, clinical after-action report. It detailed the unexpected size and ferocity of the demonic incursion, the valiant stand of the Phoenix Crest forces, and the "timely intervention of an unidentified auxiliary asset."
He described the asset's actions with a soldier's precision, not a storyteller's flair.
· Asset demonstrated extreme physical capability without detectable Qi signature.
· Asset engaged and eliminated high-value target, tentatively classified as 'Dread Vizier'-class commander, resulting in immediate enemy rout.
· Asset's methodology is one of extreme efficiency. No superfluous movement observed.
· Note: Asset possesses severe ocular disability. Relies on unknown non-Qi sensory perception.
He made no requests. He offered no theories. He simply presented the facts and sealed the report with his personal sigil, sending it via a swift and discreet military courier. His duty was to inform. The Council's duty was to decide.
The letter traveled for days, reaching the opulent, worry-lined halls of the imperial capital. There, it entered the bureaucratic machine. A mid-level functionary in the Ministry of War, a young man named Lin, was tasked with cataloging and cross-referencing incoming field reports.
Lin was diligent. And Lin had a second employer. He was a low-level informant for the Verdant Sword Sect, his services paid in spirit stones that helped his own meager cultivation. The Verdant Sword Sect had been on high alert ever since the return of a traumatized Lin Feng and a deeply shaken Sect Master's daughter, Mei, from the Ashen Abyss months prior. Their story of a blind savior who spoke no Qi and wielded a simple staff was dismissed by many as the hysterical tales of survivors. But the Sect Master, Li Tao, had never forgotten. He had quietly put out feelers for any mention of such a figure.
When Lin the clerk read General Kaelen's report, his eyes widened. Severe ocular disability. Unknown sensory perception. No Qi. Extreme physical capability.
The description was too specific, too bizarre to be a coincidence. This wasn't just a similar person; this was the same one. He made a copy of the report and, that very night, delivered it to his contact within the Verdant Sword Sect.
The report moved up the chain of command within the sect with electric speed, landing on the polished jadewood desk of Sect Master Li Tao before the dawn light had touched the peaks of his mountain home.
Li Tao read the report once. Then again. His hands, usually steady enough to perform the most delicate sword forms, trembled slightly. The clinical language of the general couldn't mask the incredible truth. The being who had saved his daughter from a certain, gruesome death in that forsaken valley was not just a recluse. He was a weapon of mass destruction unleashed upon the demonic hordes. And now he was in Aethelburg.
He thought of Mei, who still woke from nightmares but now spoke of the blind man not with terror, but with a reverent awe. She called him her "Unseen Guardian."
A fire lit in Sect Master Li's eyes. A debt of honor was owed. A debt that could never be fully repaid. But more than that, he saw what General Kaelen saw: a turning point. The Verdant Sword Sect was not as mighty as the Phoenix Crest, but they were respected, known for their unwavering principles and their mastery of the swift, killing strike.
He would not let this asset be solely in the hands of a military general. The honor of the Verdant Sword Sect demanded they acknowledge their debt. Their survival instinct demanded they ally themselves with this power.
He summoned his most trusted disciple, the formidable Elder Wei, a woman whose sword was as sharp as her mind.
"Wei," Li Tao said, his voice low and intent, handing her the report. "The one who saved Mei… he has been found. He is in Aethelburg, under the eye of Phoenix Crest."
Elder Wei scanned the document, her face a mask of calm that hid her astonishment. "The descriptions match. It is him. What is your will, Sect Master?"
"Take a small, elite contingent. Travel to Aethelburg. Do not interfere with General Kaelen's operations. Our purpose is not to claim him, but to acknowledge our debt. We will extend the formal gratitude of the Verdant Sword Sect. We will offer him whatever support he requires, no questions asked."
He looked out the window towards the distant, ominous shadow of the Ashen Abyss. "And we will watch. If the stories are even half true, the world is about to change. I would have our sect stand beside the one who changes it, not in his path."
Meanwhile, in Aethelburg, Leo was utterly indifferent to the political ripples he had caused. General Kaelen had been true to his word. He had given Leo a secluded villa on the outskirts of the fortress city, built against the great wall itself. It was quiet, defensible, and away from prying eyes.
Leo spent his days in a state of intense analysis. The [Energy Perception] function of his System was overwhelming at first. The city was a roaring bonfire of Qi—thousands of cultivators of varying strength, their energies a chaotic symphony of light and power. He had to learn to filter it, to focus.
He could feel the faint, sickly taint of demonic corruption Kaelen had spoken of. It was like a few discordant notes in the city's symphony—faint, hidden, but unmistakable to his senses. He began mentally tagging them. They were not immediate threats. They were… sources of future EXP. A reserve to be culled when necessary.
He was not a part of the city. He was a diagnostician, and the city was a diseased body he was slowly mapping.
He stood on the balcony of his villa, his Echo-Location and Energy Perception painting a perfect, complex picture of the bustling human settlement. He was a stone dropped in the water, and he was only now beginning to sense the waves he had created, returning to him from the deepest, most powerful corners of the human world. The solitude of the mountain was gone. Now, he was surrounded by a different kind of jungle, one just as dangerous in its own way.
The hunt was still on. The prey had just changed its skin.