The air in the soundproof VIP room felt heavy and hot. Zhao Ming sat frozen in his chair. The black pouch containing three hundred gold pieces and forty medium-grade spirit stones that he had arrogantly thrown just moments ago now spun slowly in Xiao Chen's hand. The Third Prince frowned, staring at the dagger the servant-clothed young man had just tossed onto the mahogany table. The tip of the dagger still had a crust of black blood from Xiao Chen's previous fight. "What kind of oath are you talking about, servant?" Zhao Ming asked warily, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. As someone raised in the imperial palace, he knew that verbal promises held no weight, but oaths involving artifacts or rituals were a completely different matter. Xiao Chen stopped spinning the black pouch in his hand. He looked straight into the Prince's pupils. A very faint, cunning smile reappeared on his face. <

Xiao Chen crushed the cloth into dust in his palm. A cruel smirk played on his pale lips. "So quickly. The pigs from the Sun Family are not only good at sucking up to princes, but also quick to bark to their masters in the dark sect," Xiao Chen thought. Based on the information he had absorbed from Advisor Zhao's memories and his analysis of the local factions, the Blood Ghost Sect was the absolute ruler of the underworld in this remote region of the empire. They were a mid-level sect filled with assassins, poison users, and cultivators who practiced forbidden Yin techniques. The scale of their threat was hundreds of times more deadly than the combined thugs of the black market or the mercenaries at the border outpost. "Something troublesome," Xiao Chen hissed. He walked to the shattered window, looking out at the dark courtyard of the residence. The Heart Demon in his chest suddenly throbbed gently,

The atmosphere at the rickety wooden table instantly plummeted to its coldest point. PRANG! Shards of a ceramic cup scattered across the dirty floor of the Shadow Auction House. Expensive wine spilled, soaking Xie Yunfei's silk boots. The young man, who had been chattering away with a wide laugh and showing off his wealth just moments ago, was now frozen. His naive smile was dead. The veins on his neck and jaw bulged, while his widened eyes reflected a shadow of rage ready to explode at any moment. "Ning'er..." Xie whispered, his voice hoarse and trembling, as if his soul had just been ripped from his throat. Outside the dusty window, the procession continued to move. The iron wheels of the cage carriage creaked horribly as they ground over the rocky street. Dozens of elite warriors from the Blood Ghost Sect, mounted on warhorses, guarded it tightly, their black robes fluttering and carrying an aura

The silver light from Xie Yunfei's sword glowed dimly, dampened by the sea of torches that now surrounded him from all directions. In the center of the Blood Ghost Sect's camp, the chaos had solidified into a deadly encirclement. Xie stood, panting, in front of the skull-carved stone pillar. The tip of his sword trembled, dripping with the blood of an enemy he had just cut down, but his own body was not unscathed. His silk robe was torn at the shoulder and waist, the result of a machete slash from the one-eyed field commander. Behind Xie, Ning'er whimpered softly. The black iron chains wrapped around her neck and hands were still intact. Xie's emotionally charged sword strike had not only failed to cut the formation-coated metal, but had also triggered an energy explosion that now brought hell before them. "Yunfei... why did you come?" Ning'er whispered between her suppressed sobs. "You're just... throwing your life away

The air behind the giant root wall felt heavier, as if the mortal laws of nature were deliberately suppressed by the presence of hundreds of unseen predators. The miasma was no longer a yellowish-green like in the outer perimeter. In the center of the Forbidden Forest, the fog had turned a deep black, swallowing the last of the dawn's light and leaving a darkness that choked the throat. Just ten steps after they leaped over the tree roots, Ning'er suddenly fell to her knees. The mortal girl, whose meridians had been damaged by the demon sect's ritual, clutched her own neck. Her face turned blue. She coughed violently, spitting up a glob of blood that hissed as it touched the poisonous, muddy ground. "Ning'er!" Xie Yunfei shrieked in panic. He immediately dropped beside the girl, holding her trembling shoulders. "Ugh... I... I'm having trouble breathing... my lungs feel like they're on fire," Ning'er rasped. Tears of pain