Chereads / The Phoenix Ascendance / Chapter 49 - Chapter Forty-Eight: Shadows in the Flames

Chapter 49 - Chapter Forty-Eight: Shadows in the Flames

Chapter Forty-Eight: Shadows in the Flames

The Infernal Sect Young Master strode through the streets of Surat City with an air of effortless dominance, his gaze passing over the bustling scene with mild indifference. The market's offerings and the common people were of little interest to him. His attention lay elsewhere, fixed on a more elusive quarry. The rumors and whispers that had drawn him to the Eastern Continent spoke of a power capable of shifting the balance—a potential too tempting to ignore.

Chaotic energies had pulsed from this land recently—a strange, resonant kind of chaos that felt almost… familiar. It stirred something deep within him, like embers catching flame. Celestial Sage Qian's expected arrival only added fuel to his intrigue. He'd heard of the Celestial Court's plans, and Qian's journey could be his own opportunity, a chance to seize something valuable from their meddling.

"How convenient," he murmured, a faint smirk curving his lips. The Celestial Court, with its Seers and their delusions of balance, imagined themselves guardians of fate. To him, fate was nothing more than fire, ready to be molded, consumed, or shattered as he saw fit.

As he wove through the streets, a sensation tugged his gaze toward a small side stall where a young man offered "Fate Readings" with an air of disinterest. There was something about the boy that made him pause—a glimmer, a trace of disciplined training barely masked beneath a plain robe.

"A Celestial Court disciple… here, playing at fortune-telling in a city square?" he murmured, unable to hide his scorn. He'd encountered many of the Court's disciples before, each zealous in their loyalty. But to see one performing readings in such a way struck him as absurd. Was this a hidden mission? A careless mistake? Either way, it hinted at an interesting purpose.

He lingered, his curiosity piqued. The boy's presence here suggested more than it revealed, and the Infernal Sect Young Master was never one to ignore a puzzle. Moments later, a young man approached the stall—a black-haired boy dressed simply, yet with an air of quiet resolve. There was a stillness about him that stood out in the chaotic square. Even before the reading began, the Infernal Sect Young Master felt a strange pull, an instinct that whispered this boy might be worth observing.

He leaned back against a post, arms folded, his gaze sharpening as he watched the scene unfold. The black-haired boy handed over a coin, and as the Celestial Court disciple began his reading, a sudden shift rippled through the air. The Infernal Sect Young Master felt it—a faint, unbalanced tremor, as if something dark and powerful stirred beneath the surface.

The disciple's face went pale, terror flooding his eyes. His body convulsed, breath catching as blood trickled from his lips. In mere moments, he collapsed over the table, lifeless.

For the first time in years, the Infernal Sect Young Master felt a flash of genuine surprise. He straightened, gaze fixed, mind churning through possibilities. The black-haired boy hadn't touched the disciple; he had merely asked for his fate to be read. Yet the moment the disciple had attempted to connect to that thread, it was as if fate itself had struck him down.

"Interesting," he murmured, his voice low. What lay in this boy's path that it could obliterate a Celestial Court disciple with such finality? Some hidden power? A curse? Or something even beyond mortal understanding?

Curiosity turned to fascination. This unassuming boy had drawn fate's ire in a way that defied reason. The Celestial Court had deemed it worth risking a disciple's life, and the cost had proven far higher than anticipated. That alone hinted at a secret worth uncovering.

As the crowd grew restless, suspicion thickening among the onlookers, he noticed city guards approaching the boy. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, a smirk tugging at his lips as he imagined the possibilities.

The Infernal Sect Young Master moved through the crowd with slow, deliberate steps, each one measured and commanding, parting the onlookers without a word. The scene still crackled with tension—the lifeless Celestial Court disciple sprawled across the table then fell to the ground, and the black-haired boy standing there, shock and confusion clear on his face.

As the guards raised their spears, whispers rippled through the crowd, ranging from accusations of murder to superstitious fears. But the Infernal Sect Young Master saw the truth beneath it all. Whatever had transpired here, it was far from ordinary.

He raised his voice, calm yet carrying an unmistakable authority. "Hold your spears. This one is with me."

As the guards lowered their weapons and backed away, uncertainty flickered in their eyes. They couldn't simply walk away from a scene like this—a disciple from an unknown sect lying lifeless, and a boy left standing beside him, now under the protection of a stranger exuding a dangerous, commanding aura. The newcomer's presence was unsettling, his aura dark and potent, like a storm ready to break. No one dared challenge him directly, yet protocol demanded they report any death, especially one as strange as this.

One of the guards exchanged a tense glance with his companion, nodding slightly. The young man before them, whoever he was, would not be challenged openly. But that didn't mean the city's authorities wouldn't investigate. The guard captain signaled to his men, silently directing two of them to slip back through the crowd.

As the Infernal Sect Young Master's attention remained fixed on Li Yan, the guards retreated, careful to avoid provoking the dark-robed figure's ire. The pair dispatched to report the incident moved swiftly, navigating the bustling streets toward the City Lord's estate. They would speak to the city lord and the visiting monks of the Three Pillars Temple, requesting further instruction on how to handle the incident.

Back at the scene, the Infernal Sect Young Master's gaze settled on Li Yan with an intensity that suggested he saw more than met the eye.

The Infernal Sect Young Master's gaze lingered on Li Yan, a faint, unreadable smile curving his lips. "Looks like you were causing quite the scene," he murmured, his voice smooth and oddly conversational. With a casual wave of his hand, he gestured down a narrow street. "Come, join me for a drink. I'd hate to leave such an intriguing encounter unfinished."

Li Yan tensed, instinctively calculating his options. The young man's aura was unmistakable—he radiated power, a dark, suffocating presence that pressed against Li Yan's senses like a storm cloud. Refusing didn't seem like a choice. It wasn't just that this stranger had saved him from the guards; he held an air of authority that left no room for dissent. For now, avoiding a direct confrontation seemed the wisest course, though everything about the situation felt wrong.

"Lead the way," Li Yan replied, his tone carefully controlled, masking his unease.

The young man's smile deepened as he turned, cutting through the lingering crowd without a second glance. Li Yan followed, keeping a step behind, his mind whirling with questions.

They reached a small, dimly lit shop tucked into a quiet corner of the bustling street. The shop's exterior was modest, almost unnoticeable amidst the livelier establishments nearby, but once inside, it was clear this place was tailored for privacy. The low murmur of conversations floated through the air, and the tables were spaced just enough to ensure no one could overhear their words.

The Infernal Sect Young Master selected an empty table at the back, his movements confident as he sat down. Li Yan followed suit, taking the seat across from him, still wary of the stranger's intentions. The young man motioned to the server with a flick of his wrist, ordering a drink before turning his attention fully on Li Yan.

"Now then," he began, his voice smooth, carrying an undertone of authority that was hard to ignore. "I'd like to know who I just saved from the city's guards. What's your name, and what brings you to Surat City?"

Li Yan hesitated, his mind racing. He weighed his options carefully—revealing too much could be dangerous, yet evading the question might raise further suspicion. After a brief pause, he replied, keeping his tone even, "My name is Li Yan."

The young man's gaze sharpened slightly, as though assessing the weight behind those two words. He waited, prompting Li Yan to continue.

"I'm here with my master," Li Yan added after a moment, choosing his words with care. It was a measured answer, revealing little but giving just enough to satisfy the stranger's initial curiosity—or so he hoped. He kept his own gaze steady, watching for any sign of what this man truly wanted.

The young man's gaze settled on Li Yan, studying him intently, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered the information given. "A master, hmm?" he echoed, as if testing the word. His expression held a flicker of amusement, though beneath it, his gaze was calculating, cold and appraising.

He leaned back, folding his arms as he looked Li Yan over with a discerning eye. "So," he murmured, more to himself than to Li Yan, "a master for a mere Foundation Establishment disciple." His tone held a faint edge of mockery, and it was clear he didn't find the notion impressive. "And yet…" His gaze sharpened, intrigued despite himself. "Other than the strangeness surrounding your fate, there's nothing exceptional about you at all."

To him, Li Yan was an enigma—an ordinary boy with no remarkable cultivation, certainly nothing that would justify a powerful teacher. His level barely touched the peak of Foundation Establishment, and his demeanor was hardly that of someone seasoned or worthy of particular note. So, either his so-called master was a nobody as well, or…

The young man's lips curved in a faint, skeptical smile, as if dismissing the latter thought. If this "master" were of any real importance, he reasoned, surely the disciple before him would reflect something of that status.

The young man leaned forward, his gaze piercing. "Tell me," he said smoothly, his voice laced with curiosity, "how did you block that Celestial Court disciple's reading?"

Li Yan blinked, caught off guard. "Celestial Court… disciple?" he repeated, confusion coloring his tone. "I didn't even know he was from the Celestial Court… I don't know what that even means."

The young man remained silent, his eyes narrowing as he studied Li Yan with renewed intensity. He didn't bother to answer Li Yan's questions or explain anything further, as if the mere thought of clarifying was beneath him. Instead, he seemed to sift through each of Li Yan's words and reactions, searching for some hidden layer that might explain the mystery surrounding him.

To someone like the Infernal Sect Young Master, it was hardly surprising that Li Yan claimed ignorance. After all, the Celestial Court was an entity from beyond the Eastern Continent, a force that would typically remain a distant rumor, known only to powerful sects or those with an eye on the world beyond. A boy at Foundation Establishment from some nameless place would have little reason to know of their strength or their reach.

Yet, despite this, something about Li Yan defied ordinary explanation. The Infernal Sect Young Master continued his silent, measured scrutiny, his gaze calculating, as if determining whether this unremarkable boy might somehow hold the key to a secret worth uncovering—or simply be discarded as another meaningless distraction.

Just as the Infernal Sect Young Master was mulling over his next move, weighing the value of this peculiar boy, one of his followers entered the shop, bowing with urgency. The follower's eyes darted to Li Yan before quickly returning to the Young Master, his voice low but tense.

"There's a disturbance outside the shop, Young Master. The city guards have returned, and it seems they've brought reinforcements. They're insisting on investigating the incident with the Celestial Court disciple."

The Young Master's expression remained impassive, though a flicker of irritation passed through his eyes. He had no intention of allowing a few meddlesome guards to disrupt his plans. Still, he knew that drawing unnecessary attention in the middle of a city could complicate matters.

With a slight nod, he gestured for his follower to remain nearby. Turning his attention back to Li Yan, he seemed to weigh his options, deciding how best to handle the interference without losing his chance to uncover the mystery surrounding this boy.

The Infernal Sect Young Master lifted his hand, fingers twisting in a fluid motion as he summoned a dark, swirling energy at his fingertips. His eyes locked on Li Yan, his intent unmistakable—a mark, a seal, meant to bind or track, infused with a twisted, malevolent energy that seemed to pulse in time with his heartbeat. Shadows coiled around his fingers, gathering into a form, a symbol that held an unmistakable weight of control.

Li Yan felt a chill race down his spine, the fine hairs on his arms standing on end as the seal took shape. Every instinct screamed for him to move, to run, yet he was rooted to the spot, an invisible pressure holding him in place. The dark symbol moved forward, floating like a spectral flame, each pulse bringing it closer to him, its aura oppressive and suffocating. His heart pounded, his mind racing as he realized the implications of that mark—a seal that would tether him to this man, or worse.

Just as the seal neared Li Yan, something unexpected happened. A jolt of force erupted from the mark itself, resisting its intended target, as if Li Yan's very essence repelled it with an unseen strength. The dark energy shuddered, and in an instant, that pulse turned back on the one who cast it.

The Infernal Sect Young Master's smirk faltered as the seal bucked, its energy rejecting his control. He felt the sudden backlash as a wave of raw, uncontrolled force slammed into him, tearing through his defenses. His eyes widened in shock as his body was thrown backward, hurtling through the air with a violent intensity, the twisted power of his own spell turned against him.

At that exact moment, the door of the shop flew open, and a monk stepped in, flanked by city guards. The monk's aura was calm but powerful, his robes flowing with the grace of one seasoned in discipline and strength. He took in the scene with a practiced eye, his gaze snapping immediately to the Young Master who was tumbling uncontrollably through the air, his trajectory aimed straight toward the monk.

In a single, fluid motion, the monk lifted his hand, his expression unyielding and calm, as though he were swatting away a minor disturbance. His palm emitted a faint but unbreakable force, a barrier that met the Infernal Sect Young Master's incoming form with a thunderous impact. The clash of energies echoed through the shop, a wave of pressure rippling outward, rattling the walls and scattering small objects.

The Young Master's body hit the monk's force with brutal finality, his momentum stopping in an instant. His face contorted with pain and disbelief as the monk's energy flung him backward yet again, sending him crashing into the far wall with an impact that cracked the wooden boards and left him sprawled amidst the debris. Dust and splinters fell around him, the room settling into a shocked silence.

He lay there for a moment, breath ragged, every inch of him pulsing with the humiliation of the moment. His expression twisted from shock to rage as he pushed himself up slowly, the anger boiling in his gaze aimed directly at the monk, who remained entirely unfazed, standing firm with a calm and unwavering stance. The monk hadn't even bothered to speak; his actions alone had conveyed a message that struck deeper than words could manage—a declaration that here, in this city, any threat would be met and swatted down without hesitation or favor, regardless of who or what it was.

Li Yan, still frozen in place, felt a rush of disbelief and confusion. He had been on the edge of capture, of entrapment, yet now he was simply… standing, free. The intense force that had gripped him moments before dissipated, leaving only a lingering unease in its wake.