Traces of The Sovereign Sin

Chapter 6: Shadows in the Border Town

The moonlight spilled over the outskirts of Bitterwood, a town that existed solely on the patronage and the waste of the Pure Cloud Sect. From the vantage point of a jagged ridge, Kael looked down at the flickering orange torches of the border town. His obsidian blade was sheathed in a scabbard made of shadow, but his heart was still thundering with the residue of the Abyss.

"Cover your horns, Isabella," Kael said, his voice a low rasp. "Unless you want every bounty hunter within a hundred miles to come knocking."

"You ask me to hide the symbols of my lineage as if they were a deformity," Isabella huffed, her silver hair flowing in the night breeze. "In my kingdom, men have lost their eyes for simply staring at them too long."

"This isn't your kingdom, little lizard," Lyra’s shadow whispered, appearing beside Kael. "It’s a cesspool of spies and backstabbers. Kael, you look like a god of death. We need to find you a cloak before a patrol decides to test your patience."

"I don't plan on being patient," Kael replied. "But I agree. Isabella, use your illusion. Make yourself look like a human mercenary. Now."

"Fine," Isabella muttered. She snapped her fingers, and the silvery radiance of her horns faded, masked by a shimmer of energy that left her looking like a particularly beautiful, albeit haughty, traveler in leather armor. "Is this lowly enough for your 'stealth'?"

"Perfect. Now, System—is my aura still leaking?"

[Aura concealment: 90%. Recommendation: Suppress the Pride-Sin signature further. To the average cultivator, you should look like a mid-rank rogue.]

"Let’s go. We have a debt to collect," Kael said, leading the way down the dirt path toward the town gates.

The entrance to Bitterwood was guarded by two lazy cultivators wearing the sky-blue robes of the Pure Cloud Sect. They were leaning against a wooden barricade, sipping from a clay flask and laughing about some scandal in the inner court.

"Halt," one of them said, barely looking up as Kael’s trio approached. "Name and business."

"Merit-seekers," Kael said, keeping his hood low. "Looking for work at the Jade Spire Inn."

The guard finally looked up, his eyes widening as they settled on Isabella. He let out a low whistle. "A bit high-class for a mercenary, isn't she? What's your rank, boy?"

"High enough to know you shouldn't drink on duty," Kael said, a hint of his Sovereign aura flickering.

The guard’s laughter died in his throat. He felt a sudden, icy weight in his stomach—the sensation of a predator passing by. He coughed, clearing his throat. "Yeah... right. Five silver for the gate f*e."

"Five silver? It was two last week!" Isabella snapped. "You're thieving from travelers now?"

"Orders from Elder Wu," the guard smirked, regaining his confidence as he touched the emblem on his chest. "Security has been tight ever since that traitor, Kael, stole the Sun-Vein Shard and ran off."

Kael’s fist clenched beneath his cloak. Lyra’s cold hand touched his arm, a phantom reminder to stay calm.

"I’m sure the traitor is long gone," Kael said, tossing a handful of silver coins onto the dirt. "Enjoy your drink."

They moved past the gate and into the crowded, narrow streets. The smell of frying grease, cheap ale, and unwashed bodies filled the air. Isabella wrinkled her nose in disgust, holding her breath.

"This place is an affront to the senses," she whispered.

"Welcome to reality, Princess," Kael said. "Let’s find a tailor. These rags have more of my blood than thread left on them."

They ducked into a small, dim shop at the edge of the market district. An old man with a hunchback squinted at them over thick spectacles.

"I need three sets of travel gear. Durable, dark, and nondescript," Kael said.

"And for the lady?" the tailor asked, pointing at Isabella. "I have silk from the capital—"

"I don't need silk," Isabella said, though her eyes lingered on a velvet cloak. "Leather. Black or charcoal. I need to move."

"Give her what she wants. And something for me," Kael said, handing over more silver. "And a room in the back for an hour to change."

While they changed, the muffled voices of passersby filtered through the thin walls of the shop.

"...you hear? Head Disciple Chen is at the Golden Dragon Pavilion tonight."

"Yeah, celebrating his new status as a Core Disciple. Lucky bastard. Ever since Kael 'died,' all the resources are going to him."

"Lucky? I heard Chen pushed him himself. No theft involved."

"Shh! You want to be the next one in the Abyss? Just drink your ale and pray for the Sun-Vein's return."

Inside the changing room, Kael adjusted the straps of his new dark-gray tunic. The reflection in the mirror showed a man who looked years older than the disciple who had been pushed off the cliff. His jaw was sharper, his eyes darker, and there was an air of suppressed violence about him.

"You're shaking," Isabella said, stepping out of her curtain. She was now dressed in tight black leather with a dark silver cloak. She looked deadly and elegant.

"I'm not shaking. I'm waiting," Kael replied.

"Wait with purpose," Lyra’s shadow appeared, leaning against the doorframe. "Chen isn't your only target, is he? The Elder Wu is the one who signed the warrant for your death."

"One head at a time, Lyra. Chen is the first. I want him to tell me who else was in that cavern that night."

They stepped back into the street, moving with a fluid synchronicity. As they neared the town square, Kael noticed a group of younger disciples in worn, faded sky-blue robes. They were being harassed by a gang of local thugs wearing red armbands—Chen’s personal retainers.

"Come on, Mei! Give us the medicine! Your 'Grand Master' Kael isn't here to protect you anymore!" one of the thugs shouted, pushing a young girl with pigtails.

The girl, Mei, clutched a small cloth bag to her chest, her eyes red with tears. "This is for the elders in the Outer Hall! It’s the sect’s ration! You can't just take it!"

"The sect’s ration belongs to the Core Disciples now! Chen needs the essence for his party tonight! Give it here!" The thug raised a hand to slap her.

His hand never landed.

Kael moved like a blur, catching the thug's wrist in mid-air. The sound of bone grinding against bone echoed in the quiet street.

"What... who the hell are you?" the thug gasped, his face turning pale as he looked into Kael’s hooded eyes.

"Someone who hates bullies," Kael said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

He squeezed. A sickening crack followed. The thug shrieked, falling to his knees as his wrist bent at an impossible angle.

"Hey! Get him!" the other thugs roared, drawing their iron clubs.

"Isabella," Kael said, not even looking back.

"Finally," she sighed.

She didn't use her dragon-fire. She used the hilt of her sword. She moved with the precision of a master duelist, striking temples and knees with such speed that the three other thugs were on the ground before they could even scream.

"W-Who are you?" Mei asked, trembling as she looked up at the hooded man.

Kael looked down at her. He recognized her. She had been the one who brought him water when he was a low-rank servant. She was the only one who didn't laugh when Chen threw dirt in his rice.

"Just a traveler, Mei," Kael said, his voice softening slightly. "Are the others in the Outer Hall okay?"

Mei blinked, her breath hitching. "You... how do you know my name? And the Hall? It's... it’s bad. Elder Wu has cut the rations. He says the Outer Hall is full of traitors who supported... him."

"Supported Kael?"

"He wasn't a traitor," Mei said, her voice small but firm. "I don't care what the tablets say. He saved us during the beast tide. He was a good man."

Kael felt a sudden, sharp pang in his chest. For all the hate he had gathered in the Abyss, for all the "Sin" he had cultivated, that one small sentence hit him harder than a Dragon Princess’s fist.

"Take your medicine and go home, Mei," Kael said, handing her the bag of herbs she had dropped. "Stay inside tonight. And tell the others... that the sky is getting dark for the Pure Cloud."

Mei took the herbs, staring at him for a long beat. "You... you have the same eyes. But he was... gentler."

"He had to die for me to survive," Kael said, turning away. "Go."

She ran, disappearing into an alleyway. Kael stood in the middle of the street, the thugs moaning at his feet.

"You're becoming a hero again, Sovereign," Lyra’s voice mocked in his head. "Be careful. Heroes are the easiest to kill."

"I'm not a hero. I'm a janitor. I’m just cleaning the path," Kael said, looking toward the large, ornate pavilion at the center of town.

The Golden Dragon Pavilion was a fortress of luxury. Glowing lanterns hung from every balcony, and the sound of music and drunken laughter could be heard from half a mile away. Guards were stationed at every door, checking invitations.

"How do we get in?" Isabella asked. "I don't plan on dancing for them."

"We don't go through the front," Kael said, looking at the stone walls of the pavilion. "System, can you find the structural weakness in the rear?"

[Scanning... Lower cellar air vent detected. Leads directly to the kitchens. Current guard density: Low.]

"Follow me," Kael said.

They moved through the shadows of the back alley. As they neared the vent, a patrol passed by. Kael reached out, his hand glowing with a dark violet hue.

"[Vitality Drain: Silent Whisper]."

The two guards slumped to the ground before they could even turn around, their energy pulled from their bodies and added to Kael’s pool. He felt the familiar, cold rush of the Sin core.

"You're getting better at that," Isabella noted. "A bit barbaric, but efficient."

"Life is a resource," Kael replied, sliding the iron grating of the vent aside. "Let’s go."

They crawled through the narrow duct, the air smelling of roasted pork and expensive spices. When they reached the kitchen area, they peered through the slats.

Inside the main hall, a feast was in full swing. At the head of the long table sat Chen. He looked different—fat with power, wearing high-grade silk and a crown of silver jade. Beside him sat two beautiful women, fanning him with large feathers.

"To Head Disciple Chen!" a voice roared. "The savior of the sect! The man who rooted out the vermin!"

Chen raised his golden cup, his face flushed with wine. "It was nothing! The Pure Cloud needed a pruning. Kael was a weed, and I was the gardener!"

The room erupted in laughter. Kael’s jaw tightened.

"He looks happy,"