Dragonblood Chaos Heir

Chapter 16: A Shadow at the City Gates

The walls of Verdant Cloud City had never felt so thin.

News, in a city fueled by trade and gossip, travels in two ways: the official proclamation, clean and censored, and the undercurrent of rumor, murky and true. In the three days since the shattered hunting party stumbled back from the Blackroot Woods, both streams had become a flood.

The official story, spread by a pale and clammy Master Wang, spoke of a "feral, high-level spirit beast" with "energy-draining properties" that had been encountered and "severely driven back" by the brave forces of the Lin and Deng clans, led personally by Elder Tian. There were "regrettable casualties," but the threat was "contained," and the city guard was "vigilant."

No one believed it.

The rumors told a different tale. They spoke of a ghost that ate earth and stone. Of a lone figure who turned the ground to dust and shattered a patriarch's mind with a scream only the soul could hear. They whispered of Lin Tao, broken-nosed and babbling, of elite enforcers who refused to speak of what they saw, and of Elder Tian himself, who had not been seen in public since his return, isolated in the Lin compound, reportedly "in deep meditation to heal a spiritual injury."

The name "Ore-Devourer" was now spoken in the same breath as "Chaos Ghost." And a new, more specific nickname had begun to circulate in the lowest alleys and most cautious merchant halls: The Abyssal Heir.

The city lived in a state of nervous twilight. Trade on the Muddy Leaf Road was dead. The Deng Clan had withdrawn their men to their own holdings, the alliance with the Lin Clan looking more like a sinking ship than a fortress. The Lei Clan, once the architects of Lin Feng's humiliation, watched from their high manor with cold, calculating eyes, seeing opportunity in the instability.

It was in this climate of fear and fractured power that Lin Feng returned.

He did not come as he had left—a ragged, desperate fugitive. He came as a conclusion.

He stood at the edge of the tree line just after dusk, looking at the city's southern gate, the "Trade Gate." It was the busiest entry point, now heavily fortified with double the usual guards, their faces tight under their helmets. Lanterns burned brightly, casting long, nervous shadows. The aura of the place was a tangled knot of anxiety, suspicion, and fading bravado.

Lin Feng was clad in simple, dark traveler's robes he'd taken from an abandoned lumber camp. They were unadorned, but of good quality. Frost Desire was wrapped in plain, oiled cloth and slung across his back like a common implement. His face, clean of the forest's grime, was the face of a young man, but one aged by something beyond years. The faint, otherworldly gleam to his skin was hidden in the twilight. He looked like a wandering cultivator, perhaps a mercenary or a distant sect disciple. Unremarkable. Safe.

He had a new goal, crystallized during his recovery. It was not enough to sow fear or cripple shipments. He needed to understand the new landscape of power, to find the cracks in his uncle's crumbling structure, and to acquire resources that weren't just spiritual energy. He needed information, a base, and currency. The city, for all its dangers, was the only source.

He walked toward the gate with a measured, unhurried pace, his aura carefully suppressed to that of a mundane 2nd or 3rd Layer Body Tempering cultivator, utterly unthreatening.

"Halt!" A guard captain stepped forward, a lantern raised. His eyes, bloodshot from long watches, scanned Lin Feng. "State your business, traveler. City's under heightened alert."

"Business is trade," Lin Feng said, his voice neutral, carrying a faint, fabricated accent from a distant province. "Heard there was demand for skilled hunters. Beast cores, rare herbs. The woods here are... lively." He let a hint of dry irony touch the last word.

The guard captain grunted, unamused. "Lively is one word for it. You got any references? Clan seals?"

"I work alone. References are in my bag." Lin Feng gestured to a small pack. "You can inspect my goods, if you like. Nothing but cured pelts and a few low-grade cores." It was true; he had gathered them on his walk here, a plausible cover.

The captain waved a subordinate over. A bored guard pawed through the pack, finding exactly what was described. No weapons beyond a skinning knife. No suspicious items.

"Where you planning to stay?" the captain asked, his suspicion easing into routine hassle.

"The Gilded Cricket, if it still stands. Used to lodge there years back."

It was a middle-tier inn in the artisan's quarter, known for discretion and not asking questions. The right place for a solitary hunter.

The captain nodded, finally stepping aside. "Fine. Keep your nose clean. Curfew's at the second night-bell. No loitering. And if you see anything... unnatural in those woods, you report it directly to the guard house. There's a bounty."

"A bounty?" Lin Feng feigned mild interest.

"On information leading to the capture of the… disturbance," the captain said, unable to say the rumors aloud in an official capacity. "Substantial."

"I'll keep my eyes open," Lin Feng said, and walked through the gates.

The city inside was a study in controlled panic. The streets were less crowded than usual, and those who were out moved with purpose, their eyes darting. Shopkeepers closed their shutters earlier. Conversations in tea houses were hushed. The vibrant, noisy life of Verdant Cloud City had been muted under a blanket of dread.

Lin Feng moved through the familiar streets with the ease of a native, but the perception of a predator. He could feel the fear. It was a sour, electric tang in the spiritual atmosphere, and to his Chaos Dantian, it was almost as noticable as earth qi. He could also feel the points of power: the heavily guarded Lin compound, pulsing with a muted, wounded energy; the Deng holdings, a sharper, more defensive knot of earth; the distant, cold lightning-crackle of the Lei manor.

He reached the Gilded Cricket without incident. The innkeeper, a thin man with ink-stained fingers, took his coin for a week's stay in a small, top-floor room overlooking a narrow alley without a second glance. Solitary hunters were common enough.

The room was sparse, clean, and most importantly, private. Lin Feng barred the door. He unwrapped Frost Desire and leaned it against the bed. He did not meditate. He sat by the small window, watching the alley below and extending his senses in a delicate, invisible web.

He listened.

Gossip floated up from the common room below, through floorboards and pipes.

"...Deng Clan's stopped all ore shipments indefinitely..."

"...heard from my cousin in the Lin kitchens, Elder Tian hasn't spoken a word since he came back. Just stares at a wall..."

"...Lei Clan's been buying up debt notes from smaller merchants who supplied the Lins..."

"...City Lord's called a closed council for tomorrow.All major clan heads..."

"...bounty's up to a hundred mid-grade spirit stones for solid news on the Ghost.The hunters' guild is buzzing, but no one's stupid enough to go deep into the Blackroot now..."

"...some are saying it's not a beast at all. Some are saying it's a curse on the Lin bloodline for what happened to the old Patriarch..."

Lin Feng processed it all. The political fallout was proceeding perfectly. His uncle was incapacitated, his authority hollowed out from within. The alliance was fracturing. Scavengers like the Lei Clan were moving in. The city guard was desperate for any lead.

He needed to move before the situation stabilized into a new, if tense, normal. He needed to act while the cracks were wide and the fear was fresh.

An idea formed, cold and precise. The bounty. A hundred mid-grade spirit stones was a fortune, enough to buy information, secure better resources, and operate anonymously for a long time. And the hunters' guild was "buzzing."

A grim smile touched his lips. He would give them a lead. But not on the Ghost.

He would lead them to a different kind of truth.

Early the next morning, Lin Feng left the Gilded Cricket. He went to the gloomy, sawdust-floored hall that served as the Verdant Cloud Hunters' Guild. The air smelled of sweat, cheap alcohol, and desperation. Bulletin boards were plastered with requests, but one notice, freshly posted on old paper, dominated the center:

BY ORDER OF THE CITY LORD'S STEWARD

BOUNTY: INFORMATION

ABOUT: THE BLACKROOT DISTURBANCE

100 MID-GRADE SPIRIT STONES

CONTACT: GUARD CAPTAIN LI, SOUTH GATE PRECINCT

STRICT CONFIDENTIALITY

A few rough-looking men and women eyed it hungrily but made no move. The stories from the woods had quenched even their thirst for risk.

Lin Feng walked up to the guild's quartermaster, a one-eyed woman with a voice like grating stone. "The bounty. I have information."

She looked him up and down, unimpressed. "You and every drunk in the quarter. Got proof?"

"I know where it lairs," Lin Feng said, his voice low. "Not just where it hunts. Where it sleeps. I saw it three days ago, before the big hunt. It wasn't in the ravine."

Her one eye narrowed. "Oh? And where was it?"

"West of the Muddy Leaf, near the old Silver Serpent stream. There's a cave system behind a waterfall most people don't know about. The water there... it doesn't sound right. It masks energy." He described a real, obscure location, a place he'd scouted and found empty. A perfect red herring.

The quartermaster studied him for a long moment. "Description of the creature?"

"Not a creature," Lin Feng said, leaning closer. "A man. Or something wearing a man's shape. Young. Moves like smoke. And his eyes... they swallow the light." He gave a deliberately vague but chilling description that matched the rumors without confirming the impossible.

A flicker of genuine interest crossed the quartermaster's face. This was new, specific detail. "Why come to me? Why not go straight to the guards for the stones?"

"Guards ask too many questions," Lin Feng said, slipping a single low-grade spirit stone across the counter. "I just want the stones and to be gone. You take the information to your contact. You get your finder's f*e from them, I get the bounty from you. No names."

It was a common enough arrangement in the grey markets. The quartermaster palmed the stone. "Wait here."

She disappeared into a back room. Lin Feng waited, feeling the hungry, suspicious stares of the other hunters. He was a new face, claiming a prize they all wanted but feared. He was painting a target on his back, but it was a calculated risk. This was the first thread he would pull.

The quartermaster returned, her expression giving nothing away. "Captain Li will see you. Tonight. Second bell after curfew. South gate guardhouse, side door. Come alone. If this is a waste of time, you'll regret it."

Lin Feng nodded. "I'll be there."

He left the guild, feeling the web begin to weave. He had just inserted himself into the official investigation as a nameless informant. It was a position of unique leverage. He could feed them false trails, learn their tactics, and perhaps even access restricted information.

As he walked back to the inn, he passed a public square. A crier was reading a proclamation from the City Lord's office, reaffirming the "beast" story and urging calm.

But pasted on a wall behind the crier, already fraying at the edges, was a crude, hand-drawn poster. It showed a stylized, shadowy figure with eyes of fire, standing over a crumbled mountain. Beneath it, in uneven characters, were the words that the city's power brokers feared most, the truth they could not contain:

THE ABYSSAL HEIR WALKS.

THE MOUNTAIN IS DUST.

WHO IS NEXT?

Lin Feng looked at the poster, then at the oblivious crier. The official story was a dam holding back a ocean of terrified understanding.

He was here now, inside the city, a shadow at the gate. And he was ready to break the dam.p