Kane’s eyes were chips of crescent ice, cold and sharp with resentment and endless calculations. He’d been wicked, manipulative, heartless, arrogant, and cruel in the past. But this right here was pure evil. Despite being an inner court disciple with a Grand Master level four cultivation, Reza felt chills and goosebumps watching Kane, who was currently a cripple without an ounce of cultivation. The malice in the room didn’t need spirit energy to be felt. It was thick enough to choke on. He forced a smile onto his face, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Young master, what truly happened that night? Was Jareth lying?” Kane chuckled mysteriously, the sound low and dry. “No. They were truly lovers. However, he lied about the place he found them. He crossed the Nyxar Dominion threshold, went past the female camp, and entered Myriad Stars Mystical Sect’s tent area to look at beautiful women. He’d heard that they often slept with skimpy wear to aid in the absorption of the moon’s essen

FLASHBACK CONTINUED “Jareth!” Kane’s roar echoed through the forest, splitting the heavy air. He knocked the last of the needles down with a flick of his blade and hurled a shuriken at the man. The man skidded backwards, the shuriken catching his flesh with a clean stab to the heart. Blood bloomed across his chest in a dark, spreading stain. Behind the man, a second masked figure landed silently and dragged the now-injured man away, vanishing into the underbrush before Kane could react. Kane hissed, his eyes moving between the fleeing duo and Jareth. In the end, he gave up on the idea of chasing them. Jareth came first. He rushed to his friend, dropping to his knees on the damp earth. “Jareth, Jareth. Are you alright?” Jareth’s eyes fluttered open. His face had turned red, feverish, and his pupils were dilated to near black. “Kane, I’m hot. I feel so hot.” He muttered, clawing at his chest as if trying to tear the skin off. His breathing was ragged, shallow. Kane’s eyes

The system beeped softly. “Hatred points computed and converted. Eighty-one percent of system point debts paid.” Theon’s heart leapt with joy and relief. It wasn’t sending him on missions, but was actually disbursing rewards. His lips pursed together to whistle, but he caught himself in time, quickly maintaining his steeze and composure. Once he’d paid off the system debts, any points he gained would be solely his, and could be used to exchange for resources from the system’s inventory. For the first time since waking up here, he felt like he wasn’t running on borrowed time. Something clicked in Theon’s mind and he paused in the process of treating the sword slash. The cloth hovered over his arm, forgotten. “That’s right. System, how are the system points calculated? How many hatred points make up one system point?” There was a brief silence, then the system answered. “System points can be earned in three ways. The first method is by converting hatred points to system points u

Theon’s heart was pounding erratically. Memories of the night before, when he ignored his body’s warning signs and suffered bitterly for it, flitted through his mind in sharp, unwelcome flashes. The taste of blood, the sting of overdrawn meridians. He wasn’t about to repeat that mistake. He bit down on his tongue and inhaled deeply, not letting himself get distracted. The pain was small, but it anchored him. Hopefully, before they breached the entrance and came upstairs, he would have finished watching the twelfth move. Theon did his best to regulate his breathing and continued to watch the scenes playing out behind his eyes. By now, he could hear the pitter-patter of footsteps tiptoeing around the building, cautious and deliberate, trying to find which window was open, which latch had failed. The twelfth move was very complicated, and it didn’t seem to play fast enough. His head was ringing from trying to focus on the information while parts of his attention kept drifting to

Theon collapsed against his door, heart pounding erratically, breathing heavy and uneven. Sweat ran down his temple and dripped off his jaw. “Phew,” he exhaled, the sound shaky. He unlocked his room and sneaked back in, moving on the balls of his feet despite his exhaustion. “Thankfully, I know the back lands forest like the palm of my hand. Otherwise I would have been in a lot of trouble.” Patrols capturing him at such an ungodly hour was a shame Theon was unwilling to bear. Who knew what kind of crimes would get slapped on him? Trespassing, unauthorized cultivation, consorting with resentful auras. They could invent charges and he’d have no way to fight back. He shuddered. Now, it seemed like he hadn’t merely imagined someone keeping an eye on him at first. “It was my miscalculation,” he muttered. He’d been careless, too focused on the technique, too desperate for a clean bath to ease the itch on his skin. Theon peeled off the half-dried clothes from his body and hung them