The northern plains were a vast, windswept expanse of golden grass that stretched to the horizon. The caravan moved across it like a scar, a slow, methodical procession under a sky that seemed impossibly large and empty. The immediate danger of the canyons and the miasma was gone, replaced by a monotonous, grinding journey that frayed the nerves in a different way. Weeks passed. For the disciples of the Jade Sword Sect, it was a tedious march. For Lian, it was the most productive period of his existence.
His nights were a secret university. The knowledge he tore from Captain Jian was a feast for his starving intellect. He learned of cultivation resources—Spirit Stones used as currency and power sources, rare herbs that could cleanse meridians, the cores of spiritual beasts that could be refined into potent pills. He learned of places—the sprawling, decadent cities of the south, the treacherous, monster-infested territories of the Unclaimed Wilds, and, most importantly, their destination.
"Cloud's Apex," he grunted one night, the name a demand.
Captain Jian, standing stiffly outside the wagon, sighed. The weariness in him now seemed soul-deep. "It is not a city ruled by a single sect," he explained, his voice flat. "It is a neutral ground, a nexus point built on the peak of the world's tallest mountain. It is governed by a council of the most powerful sects, including my own. It is a city of trade, of politics, of alliances… and of assassins. A place where a man can lose his life not to a sword, but to a poisoned word or a broken contract."
Lian absorbed this. A new kind of danger. A new kind of power. Not the simple, honest violence of the forest, but the tangled, venomous web of society. It sounded disgusting. It also sounded… educational.
"Rules?" Lian asked.
"The city has one law, enforced by the council's combined strength: no open combat within the city walls," Jian said. "Disputes are settled in the Grand Arena, through official duels, or in the shadows, through proxies and plots. Strength is still what matters, Devourer, but at Cloud's Apex, it wears a thousand different masks."
The information settled in Lian's mind, another piece of the complex, frustrating puzzle that was the human world. He was learning the rules of their game, and with every rule he learned, he found a new way to break it.
Their journey was interrupted midway through the plains. A new dust cloud appeared on the horizon, but this one was different. It was larger, faster, and accompanied by the bright, garish colors of merchant banners. Another caravan approached, this one belonging to the Golden Hand Guild, a powerful merchant collective known for their wealth, their pragmatism, and their complete lack of martial honor.
The two caravans met in the open grassland. The contrast was stark. The Jade Sword Sect was a pillar of disciplined, martial green and jade. The Golden Hand Guild was a chaotic explosion of color—silk banners, gilded wagons, and guards clad in mismatched but highly effective armor. Their leader was a portly man named Master Jin-Li, whose fine silk robes could not conceal the shrewd, calculating glint in his eyes. He did not radiate power like Captain Jian; he radiated wealth, an aura just as potent in its own way.
Captain Jian and Master Jin-Li met in the space between the two caravans. Lian, pretending to adjust the harness on one of the beasts, watched from a distance, his senses fully extended. This was not a meeting of warriors. It was a negotiation, a different kind of combat.
"Captain Jian! What a pleasant surprise to see the noble Jade Sword Sect gracing these dusty plains," Master Jin-Li began, his voice smooth as oiled silk.
"Master Jin-Li," Jian replied, his tone clipped and formal. "Your guild travels far from its usual trade routes."
"Opportunity, my dear Captain, opportunity! They say a Top-Tier Earth Dragon was awakened near the old King's Necropolis. A fool's errand for treasure hunters, a disaster for the northern garrisons, but for me? A market for high-grade healing potions and reinforced steel!" He chuckled, a sound like coins rattling in a bag. "I go where the money flows. But the north is dangerous. Perhaps our caravans could travel together for a time? For mutual protection."
It was a sensible offer. But Jian hesitated. Alliances were a political matter, and the honorable Jade Sword Sect associating with the notoriously unscrupulous Golden Hand Guild was a stain on their reputation.
As they spoke, Lian's gaze drifted past the two leaders, scanning the merchant caravan. He saw their guards, a mix of hardened mercenaries whose Qi felt jagged and scarred from real battles. He saw the heavy locks on their wagons. And he saw something else.
Standing near the back of the merchant caravan was a cage. Inside the cage was a young woman. Her clothes were simple, but of a fine cut. Her face was smudged with dirt, but her features were noble. And around her neck was a collar, not of iron, but of a strange, dark metal that seemed to absorb the light around it, pulsing with a faint energy that suppressed her own Qi. Her Qi was faint, almost nonexistent, but Lian could feel it. It was like the scent of a rare, crushed flower—subtle, but unique and powerful. More importantly, he recognized its nature. It was similar to the pure life force he had felt from the Heartwood, a power of nurturing and growth.
While the two leaders postured and negotiated, Lian focused on the woman. He saw the quiet defiance in her eyes, the way she held herself with a pride that her chains could not diminish. He saw a merchant guard approach her cage and offer her a piece of bread with a leering smile, which she met with a look of such cold contempt that the guard recoiled as if slapped.
A memory surfaced in his mind, unbidden. The face of another woman from the visions the Heartwood had shown him—the woman from the burning manor. There was no physical resemblance, but the look in their eyes… it was the same. A will that refused to be broken.
Lian's cold, analytical observation was pierced by a flicker of something else. Not sympathy. Not pity. Those were human weaknesses. It was… recognition. He recognized her spirit as a form of power, just as valid as his own. And he recognized her captors as the kind of men he despised—those who used crude force to cage something they could not understand.
He made a decision. This woman was a resource. Her unique Qi, her story, her defiance—they were pieces of a puzzle he needed to solve. And he would not allow this merchant to carry her away.
He needed to disrupt the negotiation, to drive a wedge between the two parties. He needed a catalyst.
He looked around, his mind sifting through opportunities. He found one in the form of Master Jin-Li's prized possession: a magnificent, snow-white griffon tethered to his personal wagon. The beast was proud, powerful, and arrogant, much like the Jade Sword disciples. And like them, it had a weakness.
Lian focused his will. He didn't send out a wave of power. He sent a single, psychic "needle" of pure, distilled Killing Intent—the icy, predatory focus he had perfected. He did not aim it at the griffon. He aimed it at the small, mouse-like creature scuttling in the grass just behind the griffon's tether.
The mouse, hit by a wave of inexplicable, god-like terror, shrieked and leaped directly at the griffon's hind leg.
The griffon, startled and insulted by this insignificant creature's touch, reacted with explosive violence. It let out a piercing cry, reared up, and thrashed against its tether. The tether snapped.
The massive beast was free. Panicked and enraged, it charged, not at the disciples, but directly towards the open plains, towards freedom.
"My griffon!" Master Jin-Li shrieked, his composure shattering. "Stop it! Someone, stop it!"
The merchant guards were useless, scrambling out of the way. The Jade Sword disciples instinctively drew their swords, but their rigid formations were useless against a single, fast-moving, panicked target.
Chaos erupted. And in the heart of that chaos, Lian, the simple-minded Mule, began to move.