Chen Qi sits on a thick branch, legs dangling as his gaze fixes on the dusty official road below.
He and a handful of fellow villagers keep watch, their eyes sharp for the one thing they were told to find—a black carriage heading toward Qinghe City.
From Xuanyi City, the road spills out of the east gate and winds through farmland and hills.
After seventy per cent of the way, it splits—one path continues east toward Qinghe, the other veers northeast toward Chuilan Town, named for the blue orchids that bloom wild across its ridges.
They wait at that crossroads, the perfect place to spot their quarry.
If a black carriage takes the Qinghe road, they will shadow it until it enters the city. If it is attacked before then, they will hold back, waiting to confirm the passenger's identity.
It will not be difficult. An inspector of the Demon Hunting Building is never ordinary. Even if their cultivation appears below the half-step master realm, their combat power always surges to that level—or higher.
Chen Qi breathes slowly, adjusting his posture. He cycles his qi in silence, refining what little progress he can while keeping half his senses fixed on the road.
If a fight breaks out, he knows he will not stand at its centre.
His cultivation—half-step Grand Master—would be overkill for this mission.
He is not needed; the village elder, who stands at Master Realm, can finish the task.
But this is the first mission for the great crow demon who gave them new blood, and that fact sits heavily in his chest.
That crow's blood now runs in him and in many of his fellows; in two months, he plans every villager will carry that same dark pulse.
Only when the village is full of demon-blooded kin, he thinks, will they and their children be safe—and have the means to take revenge.
He had a plan: make the village demon-blooded, then post a bounty to draw the crow demon out—then learn, then demand, then secure power.
He shudders at his own past thought—how could he once imagine murdering the very being who gave them life?
The idea sickens him; he calls himself unforgivable, selfish, unprincipled for even dreaming of such sacrilege.
To atone for that blasphemous spark, he vows to complete the mission perfectly and without stain.
If he succeeds, perhaps then his mind will quiet and his spirit can climb, and he will try to break through to the Great Master realm.
So he waits at the crossroads, half his senses on the road, half inside his refinement; he draws in spiritual energy and condenses it with True Qi, slow, deliberate strokes of practice.
Around him, the wind carries the scent of dust and river water, and with each breath, his body hardens, his resolve steels, the burning in his blood a steady reminder of the debt he intends to repay.
A day later, on the same branch, Chen Wei climbs up and settles beside him.
Chen Qi frowns at once—the boy's aura flickers, faint and turbulent, the clear sign of injury.
"You are injured," Chen Qi says, his tone sharp, "why are you here? I ordered you to remain in the village, to cultivate in peace and break through to the Master Realm."
Chen Wei lowers his head, voice steady despite the strain. "I came because I was injured."
Chen Qi studies him for a long breath, then nods for him to continue.
"When I was combining my Qi and blood energy to form True Qi," Chen Wei explains, "conflict erupted between them. The clash left me wounded."
Chen Qi's expression hardens, contemplative shadows gathering. He turns the thought in silence, weighing and rejecting answers, until at last the truth takes shape in his mind.
"The conflict arises because of the crow demon's blood within us."
Confusion flickers across Chen Wei's face. He cannot grasp how the very gift that raised them could also obstruct them.
"How can the blood of the great crow demon become an obstacle?" he asks.
"Not the blood itself," Chen Qi replies, grave and certain. "The fault lies in our cultivation technique. To advance further, we must change to one that matches the great crow demon's blood."
His frown deepens, the burden heavy. He sees his own path ahead faltering; after this mission, he may not break through to the Great Master Realm as planned. A change of method is needed.
But doubt pricks him. Would the crow demon even care for their plight? Would he aid them?
The thought itself makes him flush with shame.
"How could the great crow demon not have a solution?" he scolds himself inwardly. "To even doubt him is sin."
Self-punishment flares in his chest, but he steadies himself and speaks instead.
"Chen Wei, you will go. Visit the great crow demon. Plead with him to guide us."
Chen Wei nods and leaps down from the tree branch.
He walks to his horse tethered below, swings into the saddle, and rides out of the forest onto the official road, his gaze fixed eastward toward Qinghe City.
Halfway there, he enters a narrow stretch where two dirt mounds rise on either side of the road. His eyes flick toward them with unease. He knows the Blood Hunt Bandits lurk there, though none stir as he passes.
'Strange,' he thinks. 'Why not attack? Are they working for the magistrate?'
They hadn't struck when he travelled this way before, either, though back then, he hadn't known their hiding place.
Only later did the other villagers, guarding the fork, tell him what they'd seen.
The bandits had taken position almost the same time the Chen clansmen did, as though set to watch the road on the magistrate's orders, waiting to strike at the inspector's carriage.
A couple of hours later, as the sun tilts west and its light cuts from his right, Chen Wei reins his horse to a slower pace. The north gate of Qinghe City rises before him.
He nods at the guards, passes under the looming stone arch, and winds through the streets. At the east gate, he departs once more, continuing down the road toward the Dahe River.
By the time the sun nears the horizon, its glow stretching long shadows across the land, he reaches the fork.
To the right, the road winds toward Chen Village. Straight ahead, the road leads to the Dahe River.
His horse stamps the dirt as he hesitates, torn between two options.
"Should I rest in the village and visit the crow demon at dawn tomorrow?"
The thought tempts him, but he shakes his head hard.
'If I wait until dawn, I'll only reach the cliff by sunset tomorrow. I cannot waste a day. I must plead to the great crow demon tonight, learn if he will save us, guide us.'
Resolve steels his chest.
He pulls the reins, keeps straight, and rides on toward the Dahe River.
Kaelan halts his comprehension of the golden sword's symbols, his sharp gaze lingering on the etched lines.
One meaning reveals itself to him—the symbol grants the sword the ability to shrink into a pendant and expand back into its original form.
Two others remain beyond his grasp, but even this single discovery unsettles him.
His earlier plan had been simple: leave this place, hunt demons, and extract the markings hidden within their bodies. Yet now, doubt coils in his chest.
Demon hunting will take time, and worse, many demons share the same markings, making the search slow and wasteful.
If human symbols truly mirror those found in demons, then a shift in his path is needed, for symbols among humans would be far easier to obtain.
"I should ask Chen Qi about these markings," he muses, "but only after he completes the mission."
He closes his eyes again, forcing his spirit to flow, continuing to probe at the stubborn mysteries carved into the blade.
Hours slip by before a ripple disturbs his calm.
Through the faint thread of blood connection, he feels one of his seeded vessels approaching.
Too distant to identify, but close enough to recognise, the sensation pulls at his focus.
"Is it Chen Qi returning?" he wonders. "Has the mission been completed?"
Minutes later, the answer surfaces as the presence crosses the river.
"It's Chen Wei… and he's injured."
Kaelan narrows his eyes, his spirit probing deeper into the blood bond, sensing the weakened state of Chen Wei's body with cold precision.
"The injury isn't from outside but festering within," he mutters inwardly.
Doubt stirs.
"Has something gone wrong with his cultivation?" he wonders.
The possibility gnaws at him until, an hour later, Chen Wei kneels at the foot of the cliff.
By peering into his thoughts, Kaelan already knows the cause of the damage.
"Heal yourself," he commands, voice calm as stone, "and come to me when you are ready to break through the master realm again."
Chen Wei does not cower this time beneath the knowledge that the great crow demon reads his mind.
Instead, elation flickers in his eyes, a silent reverence.
He nods, rises, and departs, leaving Kaelan alone with his thoughts.
The weight of uncertainty presses down on him.
If he cannot solve this flaw, the investment in Chen Village risks collapsing into ruin.
Changing cultivation techniques is one path, but the villagers already cultivate a fragment of a supreme art.
In their lifetime, they may never again find a method tied to such heights.
No—abandoning it would be folly.
The only true solution is to resolve the conflict between his blood and the technique itself.
For that, he must watch, observe, and dissect the very moment of resistance.
Perhaps Chen Wei's next breakthrough will reveal the path.
Until then, Kaelan returns his focus to the golden sword, turning his mind toward the two unreadable symbols still waiting in silence.