The wind carried the scent of pine and wet earth as I made my way toward Drifting Cloud Peak, my next target. The mountain loomed in the distance, shrouded in a layer of mist, its peak barely visible beneath the overcast sky. I had already mapped out its network of allied sects, suppliers, and hidden assets. Weakening them was the first step. Crushing them was the second.
As I walked along the dirt path, the faint murmur of voices reached my ears. Desperate. Frightened. Pleading.
Then, a shrill scream.
I stopped. A few paces ahead, a group of five young cultivators surrounded a girl. Their robes—blue with white cloud embroidery—were unmistakable. Drifting Cloud Peak.
At first, I had no intention of interfering. I wasn't a hero. But the moment I recognized their sect's insignia, my path became clear.
I stepped forward.
"Help me!" The girl's voice trembled as she struggled against the men surrounding her.
One of them chuckled. "Scream all you want. In this forest, no one will—"
His words were cut short as I drove my palm into his chest, sending him crashing into a tree. His body went limp as he collapsed, blood trickling from his mouth.
The others turned in shock. "Who the hell—"
I moved before they could react. In a blur, I closed the distance between us. My fingers tightened around the throat of the closest one, lifting him off the ground. He clawed at my hand, gasping,
but I only squeezed harder.
Another fool drew his sword and lunged. A mistake.
I twisted the man in my grasp, using his body as a shield. The blade pierced straight through his abdomen, his agonized scream filling the night air.
"W-Wait!" one of them stammered, dropping his sword. "We didn't—!"
I snapped the man's neck in my grip and let his body fall.
Only one remained now.
He fell to his knees, trembling. "P-Please… have mercy!"
I knelt beside him, my voice calm. "Who supplies Drifting Cloud Peak?"
The cultivator's face went pale. "W-What…?"
I grabbed his wrist and twisted. A sickening crack followed as he screamed.
"Who supplies them?" I repeated, my tone cold.
"I-I don't know everything!" he cried, his face contorted in pain. "B-But… but I know they get their weapons from Iron Fang Forge in the south! Their alchemy ingredients come from Golden Lotus Hall, and their funds—"
He hesitated.
I pressed my foot onto his shattered wrist, drawing another scream.
"Their funds come from… from controlling Cloudshadow Mines! They force villagers to mine for them! T-The sect also takes protection fees from small clans and sects… and… and the sect master's son runs an underground auction house in Mistveil City!"
That was more than enough.
I removed my foot. The cultivator gasped in relief—until he realized what came next.
"P-Please… I told you everything," he whimpered.
I nodded. "And that's why you die painlessly."
With a single strike, I ended his life.
I turned to leave when a soft voice stopped me. "Wait!"
I turned my gaze toward the girl the Drifting Cloud Peak cultivators had been harassing earlier.
Her clothes were torn in places, dirt smeared across her pale skin, but her dark eyes still burned with defiance.
"I didn't need your help, but... thank you," she said, brushing her hair back. "At least let me know the name of the man who saved me."
I studied her for a moment before responding, "Mo Wuyuan."
She gave a small nod, as if committing my name to memory. "I am Lian Ziyan."
Lian Ziyan. A name with grace and strength—'Lian' meaning lotus, a flower that rises pure from the mud, and 'Ziyan' meaning purple mist, a sign of mystery and destiny. A fitting name for someone who, unknowingly, had just stepped onto the path of vengeance alongside me.
"Are you headed somewhere?" I asked.
"I'm looking for my grandmother," she admitted. "She should be somewhere near the western mountains. We got separated years ago. I only recently found clues that she might still be alive."
My eyes narrowed slightly. "Describe her."
Ziyan hesitated before speaking, "She has silver hair, deep wrinkles but sharp eyes, and she always carried a wooden staff. She used to tell me stories about a village hidden in the mountains."
A flicker of recognition passed through me. The exiled woman from the Village of Villains. She had spoken of a lost granddaughter.
"I might know where she is," I said. "The road to Drifting Cloud Peak is long. I'll take you there."
Relief washed over her face, but then she straightened, regaining her composure. "Thank you. But I won't just follow you for protection—I can fight."
I arched an eyebrow. "You didn't seem to put up much of a fight earlier."
She scoffed. "There were too many of them. Besides, they were stronger than me."
"Crimson Veil," I called internally. "Check her cultivation."
A voice slithered into my mind, amused. "She's one stage below the Celestial General realm. Not weak by any means."
I looked back at her, impressed. "You don't belong to any sect?"
She shook her head. "No sect has ever been worthy of my loyalty."
That answer made me smirk. "Good."
I told her my goal—to tear down the so-called righteous sects, one by one. "It will be dangerous," I warned.
She met my gaze without hesitation. "Then it's the perfect path for me."
For the first time in years, something unfamiliar stirred within me. Perhaps it was fate that brought us together. Perhaps it was something more.
We walked into the night, two shadows bound by vengeance, stepping toward a destiny neither of us could yet foresee.
Little did we know, danger lurked just beyond the horizon. And our journey was only beginning.
The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, leaving only the lingering hues of twilight painting the sky in shades of deep indigo and violet. The forest around us was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of leaves as nocturnal creatures stirred. The path to the next town was still a full day's journey away, and with the roads ahead uncertain, I decided it would be best to set up camp for the night.
Ziyan hesitated, glancing around the dense woods before stealing a nervous glance at me. "Are we really staying here?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of unease.
I nodded as I began gathering firewood. "It's safer to rest here than to travel blindly through the night. A weary body is no better than a broken sword."
She pursed her lips, lowering her gaze. "I just… I've never camped alone with a man before."
I let out a quiet chuckle, arranging the logs into a small pile. "I have no interest in taking advantage of you, if that's what you're worried about." I struck a spark, and soon, a small fire flickered to life, its warm glow pushing back the night's shadows. "You should rest. I will stand guard until past the first watch of the night."
Ziyan looked at me, uncertainty still lingering in her eyes. "But you need rest too."
"I will sleep when the night reaches its second quarter," I assured her. "For now, focus on regaining your strength. Tomorrow will not be easy."
She hesitated but eventually nodded, wrapping herself in a cloak as she sat near the fire. I could see the tension in her posture, the way her fingers gripped the fabric of her sleeves. It was clear she wasn't accustomed to trusting others so easily.
Minutes passed in silence, the crackling fire filling the void between us. Then, softly, she spoke again. "Mo Wuyuan… why are you doing this?"
I tilted my head slightly. "Doing what?"
"Going after the sects. Seeking revenge. You're strong enough to leave all this behind, yet you continue forward on this bloody path." Her voice was barely above a whisper, as if she feared the answer.
I stared into the fire, watching as the flames consumed the wood, twisting and flickering like fleeting memories. "Because I have no choice."
She frowned. "There is always a choice."
I shook my head. "Not for me." I met her gaze, my voice steady. "Everything I've lost, everyone I've buried—it was because of them. To simply walk away would mean their deaths were for nothing. The heavens have already cast me into darkness, and I will not stop until I have repaid every debt in full."
Ziyan fell silent, as if weighing my words. Then, to my surprise, she reached into her satchel and pulled out a small cloth bundle. "Here," she said, holding it out. "It's not much, but you should eat something."
I raised an eyebrow but took it. Unwrapping the cloth, I found dried meat and steamed buns inside. "You carry provisions like this, yet you claim to have no experience traveling?"
She offered a small, hesitant smile. "My grandmother always told me to be prepared for the unexpected."
I nodded, taking a bite. It had been a long time since someone had shown me such simple kindness.
As the fire crackled and the night deepened, Ziyan's posture finally relaxed. Before long, her eyes fluttered shut, and she drifted into sleep. I remained where I was, keeping watch as the hours slipped by. When the time came for my own rest, I allowed myself only a brief respite, knowing that tomorrow, the road to Drifting Cloud Peak would bring even greater trials.
The night stretched on, the moon climbing to its zenith. I adjusted my cloak, staring into the fire's embers. This journey had taken an unexpected turn, but somehow, I felt that meeting Ziyan was a turning point—one that fate had long arranged.
I just didn't know whether it was for salvation or ruin.