Ashes To The Peak

Chapter 7: Caged Assets.

The thought echoed loudly through his entire consciousness. As he blinked away the dimness, Zareth realized that the darkness of the room had vanished.

It was already the next day, and judging by the bright sunbeams piercing through the cracks of his makeshift abode, noon was rapidly approaching. Outside in the alleyways and distant streets of Blackwater Town, he could hear the bustling clamor of footsteps, shouting vendors, and daily activity.

A wave of utter disbelief washed over him. He had been so deeply submerged in his inner sea that he hadn't realized an entire night and half a day had slipped by, all just to catch a subtle, microscopic trace of energy.

Yet, despite how agonizingly slow the process had been, a profound sense of sheer happiness filled his chest. It had been an eternity since he last felt this kind of raw, genuine excitement over a minor achievement.

In his past life as Belmoth Cross, cultivating was a given, a effortless, guaranteed right bestowed by his blessed vessel.

Now, as Zareth, after spending relentless hours in agonizing failure, he had finally managed to sense a single thread of elemental truth. He had found the path forward.

A single tear welled in his right eye and rained down his cheek.

Deep down, a terrifying, dark thought had been quietly consuming him over the past several hours: "What if this body is so broken that i can never resonate with Qi again? What if I am doomed to remain a crippled slave, bedridden forever?"

Now, that silent nightmare was shattered. Tears of absolute joy danced in his eyes as a wave of immense relief surged through his entire body. Hope had finally entered his shabby, rotting abode.

"It seems I have a chance... I actually have a chance at this!" Zareth thought, his mind racing. "It might have been just a small trace, but it was enough to show me where I must look. Without a shadow of a doubt... that was Wind Aether Qi!"

He did not care in the slightest that this affinity was completely different from the fiery, destructive nature he had wielded as Belmoth Cross. In his current desperate state, he was willing to take whatever was placed on the table. The simple fact that a usable path existed was enough to bring him boundless joy.

The rapid pounding of his heart and his quickened breaths revealed just how deeply terrified he had been of losing the path of cultivation forever. He was now experiencing a profound sense of triumph over a tiny spark of energy, an achievement that average cultivators would laugh at as utterly pathetic.

"I have to try it again right now, while the phantom impression of that sensation is still fresh in my memory," Zareth instructed himself, forcing his heart to steady as he closed his eyes once more.

One breath... two breaths...

Thirty long, calculated breaths of absolute focus, unyielding patience, and total stillness passed.

...Fwip.

He felt it again! It was not a massive surge, merely a tiny breeze brushing past his internal natural meridians, but to Zareth, it was a grand achievement. Casting aside all pride, he gently reached out attempting to grasp that tiny breeze and guide it into his channels.

Snap!

The thread snapped and vanished into thin air.

Unfazed, Zareth took a deep breath and tried again... and again... and again.

Meanwhile, as Zareth was entirely absorbed in cultivating his delicate resonance with the Wind Aether Qi...

In a completely different part of Blackwater Town, inside a grand, bustling establishment...

The noon sun beat down on the heavy wooden sign of The Roaring Panda, the largest, most profitable inn in the district, operated directly under the banner of the Red Panda Gang. The lower floors roared with the noise of drunk mercenaries, gamblers, and travelers, but on the top floor, within a luxurious, private chamber, a dark and heavy conversation was unfolding.

"So... tell me, Gao," a massive, booming voice echoed through the dimly lit room.

Inside the chamber, a hulking silhouette sat comfortably atop a broad, ornate arhat bed. A lightly dressed, attractive woman sat in his lap, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger, while Gao stood several paces below them.

Gao’s head was bowed low, his body visibly trembling. The oppressive, heavy aura of a seasoned cultivator filled the air, thick with the scent of burning essence incense.

"How is the progress with our special benefactor?" the gang leader asked, his voice a deep, gravelly rasp.

"B-Boss... the kid is coming along well!" Gao stammered, his words stumbling over one another as if he had forgotten how to speak properly under the pressure. "The physician said... he said it might take up to two months before he can even stand or walk short distances on his own..."

"Two months?" The boss’s tone shifted instantly, dropping into a dangerous, icy register that made the hairs on Gao's neck stand up.

"Do you have any idea what is happening soon, Gao?" the boss asked, leaning forward slightly, the heavy shadows covering his face. "In just a few days, the annual assembly of all the gangs in Blackwater Town will take place. And this year, we are the hosts. That means the entire assembly is being held directly within our territory."

He paused, letting the silence hang heavily in the room. "Do you understand what that implies?"

"N-No, Boss..." Gao mumbled, completely clueless, sweat pouring down his temples.

"It means every rival faction will send spies, scouts, and assassins to lurk around our borders!" the boss snarled. "Ambushes, sabotage, hidden movements, they will spend every waking second analyzing our patrols, hunting for any flaw or weakness they can exploit to cut our throats!"

The boss scoffed, casting a look of pure disdain at the trembling thug.

"Since you are nothing more than a useless, muscle-brained brute who feeds off the gang's scraps and only offers basic brute force, you obviously wouldn't understand the strategic value of intelligence. But that kid does."

The boss pointed a thick, scar-covered finger toward the floor.

"If that boy wasn't born with a broken, sickly body, his sheer mind would have earned him a rank far superior to yours. Yet now, he is nothing more than a slave locked in our grip. Do you know why that is, Gao?"

Another heavy pause. Gao remained frozen, entirely unable to offer an answer.

"Because the boy is an asset," the boss whispered darkly. "And true assets are always kept caged. You can go search every grand family, wealthy clan, or powerful sect in this region, you will never see their core assets displayed openly on the street. They are hidden away in dark rooms so they can neither be seen nor escape!"

Suddenly, the boss slammed his heavy fist onto the wooden armrest of the bed, the violent impact cracking the sturdy timber.

"So enough of your pathetic excuses!" the boss bellowed, his voice echoing off the walls.

"As long as that child has working eyes and working ears, it is time for him to get back to work! You are to drag him out of that bed tomorrow, whether he can walk on his own two feet or not! It is in your absolute best interest to make him produce results! We need information! We need to know who is plotting against us, who is colluding with rival gangs, and where the ambushes are set before this assembly begins!"

The boss stood up, his massive frame towering over the kneeling thug, his aura pressing down like a physical weight. "Do you understand what I am telling you?!"

"Y-Yes, Boss! Understood, Boss!" Gao cried out, bowing his head until his forehead hit the floorboards.

"Then get out of my sight and do your job," the boss growled, his voice dropping back into a menacing murmur. "Starting tomorrow morning, I want to see that child working."