The sun dipped low on the horizon, its glow swallowed by the haze of smoke that clung to Red Blossom like a shroud. The city seethed with life, not born of joy, but desperation. Shouts echoed from crowded stalls, the sharp clatter of hooves reverberated on uneven stone roads, and somewhere in the distance, a scream rose before abruptly cutting off. The air was heavy with sweat, decay, and the faint metallic tang of blood.
Yao Qin and Han Wei slipped through the orphanage gate and into the chaos. The crumbling streets stretched ahead, lined with crooked buildings that leaned like drunks on their last legs. Yao Qin's sharp eyes darted across the broken skyline, taking in every crack, shadow, and jagged edge. This city was a trap, and he had already lived through its snapping jaws once.
"You don't have to look so grim, Yao Qin," Han Wei said, his voice light, though his shoulders were tense. "It's just another walk. Nothing new."
Yao Qin didn't respond immediately. His gaze lingered on the horizon, where the spiked silhouette of the Dark Mountain Faction's fortress loomed faintly against the smog. Nothing new, he thought, his lips curling faintly. Except for you, Han Wei. You still think there's hope.
"You don't have to glare at everything," Han Wei added, nudging him lightly. "Not everything's out to kill you."
"Not yet," Yao Qin replied softly, his voice carrying the weight of certainty.
The noise of the fighting pits reached them before the sight - a chaotic symphony of cheers, curses, and the dull thud of fists on flesh. A crowd of ragged spectators surrounded a crude dirt ring marked by leaning wooden posts. Inside, two men circled each other, their movements clumsy but vicious. One - a hulking brute with a jagged scar running across his chest - swung a makeshift cudgel, narrowly missing his leaner opponent, who darted to the side with bloody knuckles.
"Five coppers on the big one!" someone shouted, their voice cracking with excitement.
"Your funeral," another jeered.
A sharp crack split the air as the cudgel found its mark, connecting with the smaller fighter's ribs. The crowd roared as the man crumpled, his body writhing in the dirt.
Han Wei slowed, his gaze drawn to the ring. "You think they ever stop?" he asked, half to himself. "They don't even look human anymore."
Yao Qin's eyes lingered on the unconscious fighter being dragged away like a broken doll. "They're not," he said, his tone detached. Not in there. They've traded humanity for survival, just like the initiates of the Path of Decay.
The pits reminded him of the Black Phantom Cult's - pitting the desperate against each other until only the most ruthless survived. He watched the crowd jeer and cheer, each face consumed by bloodlust. Strength without purpose. Rage without direction. It's no wonder this city is a graveyard.
Han Wei shook his head, muttering something under his breath as they moved on. Yao Qin stayed silent, the image of the fallen fighter lingering in his thoughts.
The marketplace was a cacophony of chaos, its streets teeming with hawkers and buyers. Vendors shouted from rickety stalls, their voices hoarse as they hawked wares both mundane and bizarre. Crates overflowed with mismatched goods: rusted tools, cracked bowls, and dried herbs of questionable origin. Above it all hung the stench of animal pelts left too long in the sun, mingling with the acrid smoke wafting from gutter fires.
A man held up a softly glowing spirit stone, its faint red hue casting eerie shadows on his gaunt face. "Fresh from the Danger Zone!" he bellowed, grinning wildly. "Rare treasures! Don't miss your chance!"
Han Wei slowed, his eyes flicking toward the stone. "You think it's real?" he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.
"It's a lie," Yao Qin said flatly, pulling him forward. "Even if it's real, you couldn't afford it."
Han Wei laughed nervously, his gaze lingering on the glowing artifact. "Right. Just looking."
Nearby, a scarred woman displayed crude weapons and mismatched armor. Hanging from her stall were animal pelts, some still stained with dried blood. She caught Yao Qin's eye and gestured at a particularly large fur, her toothless grin unsettling. Yao Qin ignored her, steering Han Wei away.
The fortress loomed ahead, its jagged walls jutting out like broken teeth. Blue flames flickered along its perimeter, their light casting eerie shadows over the spiked iron gates. The Dark Mountain Faction was a constant presence in Red Blossom—a brutal reminder of power unchecked.
Two guards stood by the gate, their postures as menacing as their weapons. The taller one wore a cloak of wolf pelts, his tattooed face twisting into a sneer as his gaze landed on Yao Qin and Han Wei. The shorter guard, his scarred arms adorned with bone charms, rested a hand on his jagged blade, watching them with a predator's patience.
The taller guard stepped forward, blocking their path. "What's this? Two rats scurrying out of their hole?" His voice was low and gravelly, laced with disdain.
Han Wei stiffened, his fists twitching at his sides. Yao Qin placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. "We're just passing through," he said calmly.
The guard's sneer widened. "Passing through? Don't trip on your tails, then."
Yao Qin's gaze met his briefly, unflinching and cold. The guard hesitated for a fraction of a second before stepping aside with a muttered curse. Yao Qin didn't look back as they walked past, but his thoughts lingered on the fortress.
"If the Mountain King's moving," Han Wei whispered, "the city's done for."
Yao Qin glanced at the towering walls. "Red Dawn's legacy is already dead," he said softly. "They just don't know it yet."
The streets grew quieter as they approached their destination. Smoke and laughter spilled from the Red Claw Tavern, its crooked sign swaying in the evening breeze. The muffled sound of a crowd reached their ears, punctuated by occasional shouts and crashes. Somewhere inside, someone screamed—a sound quickly silenced.
Han Wei forced a smile, his nervous energy spilling into his words. "Scarface isn't so bad once you get to know him. He looks out for his people!"
Yao Qin didn't answer immediately. His gaze was fixed on the faint glow spilling from the tavern doors. "Let's get this over with," he said finally, stepping forward.