The setting sun cast long shadows across the towering walls of Ironhollow, their rough-hewn stone fortified by spiritual formations that pulsed faintly with energy. To Jiang Chen, who had spent his life in the untamed wilderness, the sight was both foreign and fascinating. The wilderness was a place of raw, primal strength, but this city reflected the other side of power—structure, control, and ambition.
The line of travelers stretched long before the gates. Merchants guided laden wagons, cultivators stood armed and watchful, and farmers clutched bundles of goods, all funneling toward the city's gates. Yet, even among the crowd, Jiang Chen stood out. His beast-hide armor and the crude bone spear slung across his shoulders marked him as an outsider, a hunter from the wilds. Heads turned as he passed, whispers trailing behind him.
The guards stationed at the gate were cultivators in the Early Stage of Qi Condensation Realm, their spears imbued with faint spiritual energy. They watched the crowd closely, scrutinizing each entrant.
Jiang Chen approached the gates, and a burly, bearded guard stepped forward. His hand rested casually on the hilt of his weapon, his eyes narrowing as he took in Jiang Chen's appearance. "Entrance fee's ten silver coins. No exceptions."
Jiang Chen frowned slightly. He'd learned about the value of human currency from the few travelers he'd encountered, but he'd never carried it himself. Reaching into his leather pouch, he produced a faintly glowing Low-Grade Spirit Core—the spoils of his hunts.
"This should cover it," Jiang Chen said, holding the core out.
The guard's eyes widened briefly before narrowing again with suspicion. "A spirit core? What kind of hunter uses cores as currency?"
"I don't carry silver," Jiang Chen replied evenly. "Take it or leave it."
The guard examined the core, its faint glow confirming its authenticity. With a grunt, he pocketed it. "Fine. This is worth far more than ten silvers, but I'll take it. Welcome to Ironhollow. Keep your head down while you're here."
Jiang Chen offered no reply, stepping through the gates into the bustling city beyond. Though he had entered peacefully, he could already feel the undercurrents of tension in the air. Ironhollow might appear orderly, but it was clear to him that chaos lurked just beneath the surface.
The streets of Ironhollow were alive with activity. Vendors hawked their wares, from gleaming weapons and rare herbs to steaming street food. Blacksmiths hammered rhythmically at glowing metal, while merchants bickered with customers over prices. Cultivators of varying strength roamed in small groups, their auras marking them as either disciples of sects or independent adventurers. Most were in the Body Tempering Realm, though Jiang Chen could pick out a few stronger figures in the Qi Condensation Realm.
As he moved through the crowd, he felt the gazes of others lingering on him. His wild appearance and beast-hide armor marked him as a barbarian in the eyes of these city-dwellers, but Jiang Chen paid them no mind. The wilderness had taught him that strength was the only measure that mattered, and he knew his strength would be tested soon enough.
The sound of raised voices drew his attention to a nearby square. A group of men stood in a tense circle, their weapons drawn. At the center of the commotion was a merchant—an older man with graying hair—who stood protectively in front of a young boy clutching a small box.
"Hand it over, old man," one of the men barked. He was tall and broad, his polished sword gleaming faintly with spiritual light. His aura marked him as Late Stage Body Tempering Realm, and the crimson insignia on his chest identified him as a disciple of the Crimson Blade Sect.
"I've told you already," the merchant said, his voice trembling but firm. "This box contains medicinal herbs for my son. It's not for sale."
"Not for sale?" the man sneered, his voice dripping with arrogance. "This is Ironhollow. If the Crimson Blade Sect wants something, it isn't up to you whether it's for sale."
The boy clung tightly to the box, his eyes wide with fear. "Father…"
The other disciples behind the man laughed, their weapons gleaming in the afternoon light. The crowd surrounding them remained silent, their faces tight with unease. No one dared to intervene—not against disciples of the Crimson Blade Sect, a sect notorious for its ruthlessness.
Jiang Chen frowned as he watched the scene unfold. The man's arrogance was grating, but it was the boy's terrified expression that stirred something within him. Strength wasn't about taking from the weak—it was about protecting them.
He stepped forward.
The moment Jiang Chen moved, the air shifted. His bone spear tapped against the ground as he approached, the crowd parting to let him through. His amber eyes were cold and sharp, locking onto the leader of the Crimson Blade disciples.
"Leave them alone," Jiang Chen said, his voice calm but firm.
The laughter from the disciples died instantly. Their leader turned, his expression twisting into a sneer. "And who are you supposed to be?"
"Someone who doesn't like bullies," Jiang Chen replied.
The leader's eyes narrowed. His aura flared as he stepped forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Do you even know who you're talking to? I'm Lu Chen, an inner disciple of the Crimson Blade Sect. You're nothing but a wild dog."
Jiang Chen didn't respond, his expression unchanged. His lack of reaction only seemed to infuriate Lu Chen further.
"You think you can stop me?" Lu Chen growled. "Fine. I'll teach you a lesson."
Lu Chen unsheathed his sword, the spiritual energy surrounding it rippling faintly as he lunged at Jiang Chen. His strike was fast and precise, aimed directly at Jiang Chen's throat. The crowd gasped as the blade approached.
But Jiang Chen was faster.
He sidestepped the attack with ease, his bone spear lashing out like a serpent. The weapon's tip struck Lu Chen's wrist, forcing him to drop the sword with a grunt of pain. Jiang Chen's movements were fluid, his strikes carrying the weight of Force Intent—an ability that amplified his attacks beyond what should have been possible at his cultivation level.
Lu Chen staggered back, clutching his wrist. His eyes widened in disbelief. "What… what was that?"
Jiang Chen didn't answer. He advanced, his spear moving with deadly precision. Each strike forced Lu Chen further back, the ground trembling faintly with the ripples of Force Intent. The crowd watched in stunned silence, their eyes fixed on the wild-looking youth who moved with the precision of a predator.
Lu Chen roared, summoning his spiritual energy as he unleashed a flurry of strikes. His sword danced through the air, each swing aimed to overwhelm Jiang Chen's defenses. But Jiang Chen parried each strike with ease, his spear cutting through the air like a whip.
"You're too slow," Jiang Chen said, his voice cold.
With a final thrust, Jiang Chen's spear shattered the spiritual energy surrounding Lu Chen's sword. The weapon flew from his hands, clattering to the ground. Before Lu Chen could react, the butt of the spear struck his chest, sending him crashing to the ground.
Lu Chen lay on the ground, gasping for breath, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. Jiang Chen stood over him, his spear resting lightly against his shoulder.
"You lost," Jiang Chen said. "Leave."
Lu Chen glared at him but didn't dare speak. He motioned for his disciples to retreat, their arrogance shattered. As they disappeared into the crowd, Jiang Chen turned his attention to the merchant and his son.
"Are you all right?" Jiang Chen asked.
The merchant bowed deeply, his voice trembling with gratitude. "Thank you, sir. You saved us."
Jiang Chen shook his head. "Just stay safe."
As he walked away, the crowd whispered in awe, their gazes following him. In the shadows, a cloaked figure watched, their eyes gleaming with interest.
"This one… he'll stir things up," the figure murmured.
Jiang Chen, unaware of the attention he had drawn, smirked faintly. Chaos thrived in the city, and chaos was his domain.