A few hours passed, and Lin Shu finally spotted two of his targets—Bing Tuo and Dang Ji—entering the Rong Clan gates.
His eyes narrowed, and irritation surfaced.
"They were outside the clan," he thought coldly. "And I waited here for hours for nothing. If I had crossed paths with them while scouting the village, they'd already be dead."
There was nothing he could do now.
Lin Shu continued watching. He lacked a technique that would allow him to eliminate his targets and escape instantly. Without a clear path of retreat, acting rashly would be suicide.
---
Inside the Rong Clan, Bing Tuo walked alongside his young nephew. Neither spoke. Their expressions carried no trace of joy—only exhaustion, confusion, and grief.
They stopped before one of the many houses within the clan grounds.
Bing Tuo glanced at Dang Ji's lowered face and sighed before knocking. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
What greeted them was a woman lying on a bed, her body covered up to her neck. She looked frail—unnaturally thin, as if life itself was slowly being drained from her. When her eyes turned toward them, she smiled weakly.
She didn't speak. She seemed too weak to.
Bing Tuo lowered his gaze, his chest tightening in pain.
Dang Ji stared at her, his lips trembling. "Mother…" he whispered, tears immediately welling in his eyes.
Bing Tuo felt sadness claw at him—but sadness quickly gave way to anger.
"It's all because of him," he thought bitterly. "All because of him."
Memories surged.
That man had forced his sister into becoming a concubine. When he grew bored of her, he discarded her like trash. His wife, fueled by jealousy, made their lives unbearable. They escaped only because Bing Tuo had managed to impress an elder of the Rong Clan, who reluctantly agreed to shelter them.
But even then, that bastard hadn't let them go.
"He tried to kill us," Bing Tuo thought, his jaw tightening. "Wan was injured during our escape. He treated her like property—something that existed only at his whim. Whether she lived or died was up to him."
His fists clenched.
Healing her injuries required aether shards—far more than he could afford. He had begged the elder, but the response was firm. Even the clan's supply was limited, reserved for emergencies.
He had hunted beasts. Taken mercenary work. Earned gold.
And when he tried to trade that gold for aether shards, he was laughed at.
"I can't lose her," he thought desperately. "I can't let Ji suffer the way we did."
Dang Ji finally broke down completely. He wiped his tears and mucus with his sleeve before stumbling to his mother's bedside, clutching her blanket tightly.
"I'll save you," he cried. "I'll find something—I promise. Just hold on. Please… please hold on, Mother. I'll help you. I swear I will."
Bing Tuo wanted to say the same thing.
But reality crushed him like a hammer.
Bing Wan smiled—a trembling, fragile smile—as tears pooled in her eyes. She wanted to turn away. She didn't want her son to see her like this.
She wanted him to remember her as strong.
As someone who endured everything. Who sacrificed everything.
All so her brother and her son could have a chance to live freely—to escape the hell she had been trapped in.
The room fell silent as night descended.
---
Lin Shu remained awake in the inn the entire night.
He didn't move. He didn't sleep.
He waited.
Dawn finally arrived. As sunlight spilled across the village, Lin Shu's eyes sharpened.
Bing Tuo and Dang Ji exited the Rong Clan gates. Their expressions were filled with resolve.
Lin Shu felt nothing.
Then his gaze shifted.
An old man walked with them.
Lin Shu recognized him immediately—the elder who had taken them in.
Peak stage of rank one.
Based on the information in his file, Lin Shu was confident he could handle him.
He left the inn and followed from a distance.
Soon, the group boarded a carriage.
Lin Shu considered his options briefly—then chose to run. His speed was sufficient to rival high-stage rank one blood beasts. A carriage wouldn't leave him behind.
Inside the carriage, silence reigned.
The old man sat across from them and finally spoke. "Looking depressed won't save your loved one. Straighten up."
Both Bing Tuo and Dang Ji instinctively obeyed.
"I'm taking you somewhere you might obtain aether shards," the old man continued. "I'm calling in a favor. Don't let it go to your heads."
Bing Tuo managed a small smile. "Thank you, Master. May I ask where we're going?"
"Gloomvale City."
Both froze.
That city was infamous—one of the empire's four major cities and the most violent among them. Imperial control there was loose, allowing crime and demonic cultivators to thrive in the shadows.
The old man noticed their unease. "Relax. As long as you don't walk the wrong path, it's safe enough. And I'm entrusting you to an old friend there. He'll take care of you."
Dang Ji hesitated. "But… why Gloomvale?"
"Because of a place that's risen in recent years," the old man replied calmly. "Your fastest chance at earning aether shards."
His eyes sharpened.
"The Valor Arena."
Both were stunned.
They had heard the rumors—a place where cultivators fought for glory, fame, and wealth. A place of opportunity and death.
Seeing their hesitation, the old man added, "The man I'm entrusting you to is Chi Yanqi—known as the Drunken Flame. He's a high-stage rank two cultivator. Well-established in Gloomvale and within the arena."
Shock flashed across their faces.
A high-stage rank two cultivator—stronger than their clan patriarch.
They didn't dare ask how their master knew someone so powerful. That question would be disrespectful.
The carriage rolled onward.
Unbeknownst to them, something followed closely behind.
As the old man watched the two boys, his expression softened. For a brief moment, it was as if he were seeing ghosts of the past through them—regrets, students he failed, people he couldn't save.
He sighed and turned his gaze toward the window.
Then—
His blood ran cold.
"GET DOWN—!"
The warning barely left his mouth when the world exploded.
A beam of lightning roared towards them, smashing into the carriage with a thunderous boom. Wood, metal, and flesh were torn apart instantly. The carriage disintegrated, reduced to splinters and burning fragments.
Smoke billowed upward.
Blood soaked into the dirt.
The horses—blood beasts—lay scattered, their bodies charred and broken.
Before the echoes faded, Lin Shu was already moving.
He sprinted forward, lightning still crackling faintly across his body. Lightning Fang Surge had obliterated the carriage, but he wasn't foolish enough to wait for his targets to crawl out of the rubble.
Bone blades coated in steel erupted from his gauntlets. His armor bristled—shard spikes along his shoulders, bladed edges flaring from his elbows.
He slammed into the wreckage.
Rubble was torn apart violently as Lin Shu carved through wood and stone alike, searching, destroying—until a violent torrent of wind smashed into him and forced him back several steps.
From the ruins, an old man rose.
His robes were shredded. Blood streamed down his face. One arm hung uselessly at his side, shattered beyond movement.
"A peak-tier technique…" the old man thought grimly. "I couldn't block it completely. I had to divert the damage to protect those two…"
He glanced down.
Bing Tuo and Dang Ji lay unconscious, bruised and bleeding—but alive.
The elder stepped forward, steadying himself, spear forming in his remaining hand. His gaze fixed on Lin Shu.
Before him stood a boy—young, far too young—encased in crimson-colored steel armor, jagged and monstrous, radiating menace.
"Do you have any idea who you're attacking, boy?" the elder demanded. "You're striking an elder of the Rong Clan."
Lin Shu didn't answer.
He began circling.
"I'll give you one chance," the elder continued coldly. "Tell me who hired you, and I'll let you leave alive."
No response.
Lin Shu attacked.
The elder cursed and surged forward, deliberately pulling the fight away from Bing Tuo and Dang Ji. His spear whistled through the air, wind and force gathering at its tip.
Steel clashed with qi-infused metal.
Lin Shu moved like a predator—low, fast, relentless. His bone blades slashed in sweeping arcs, forcing the elder to retreat step by step.
Then—
The blades dissolved.
In an instant, Lin Shu was inside the elder's guard.
His gauntleted hand slammed into the old man's abdomen.
Clawed fingers tore through flesh and muscle, ripping deep. Blood sprayed as the elder staggered, shock flashing across his face.
Snarling, the elder unleashed a desperate counterattack—a peak-tier technique. Power detonated at point-blank range.
The explosion shredded Lin Shu's armor.
Steel fragments flew as his shoulder, part of his chest, and one eye were briefly exposed.
But before the elder could even register what he was seeing—
The armor reformed.
Metal crawled back into place like a living thing, sealing itself seamlessly.
The elder stared in disbelief.
Lin Shu didn't give him time to breathe.
"Lightning Fang Surge."
The elder's pupils shrank.
Impossible—he had just used that technique!
He didn't know.
no qi was consumed. The lightning surged from the residual lightning stored within Lin Shu's body—released from his Thunderforge Physique he was bale to increase the amount of lightning he can store as he grew older which menat he could use the technique more then once.
Not a peak-tier attack since his stored lightning wasn't enough.
But still high-tier.
The blast obliterated the elder's arm entirely.
Bone, flesh, and Qi were erased.
The old man crashed to the ground, screaming, crawling weakly through the dirt.
"W–WAIT!" he screamed desperately. "Don't kill me! You're making enemies you can't fathom! If you kill me, my clan will hunt you! People you cannot even stand before will target you—YOU DON'T UNDERST—"
His words ended abruptly.
Lin Shu stomped down.
The elder's skull shattered beneath his foot.
Without hesitation, Lin Shu severed the head cleanly.
Silence returned to the road.
Smoke drifted.
Blood cooled.
And the boy in red steel turned toward his remaining targets.