The air in the Blackwater Marsh was thick and heavy. It smelled like old wet leaves and water that had been sitting still for too long. A thin layer of white fog covered the dark water below. It was hard to tell where the solid ground ended and the deep mud started. This was a dangerous place. Poisonous snakes hid in the grass. Deep holes of mud could swallow a person whole. But for Yan Minxue, this marsh was the only place she could go.
She moved slowly through the tall, sharp grass. Each blade was as tall as her waist and had edges like small knives. Her clothes were made of rough, gray cloth. They were stained with brown mud and green marks from the plants she had brushed against. She wore old boots that had holes in them. Cold water seeped through the holes and soaked her feet. Her toes were numb from the cold, but she did not care. Her eyes stayed focused on the roots of a large, twisted tree ahead of her.
She was looking for a specific herb. It was called the Spirit Knot Root. It was a low-grade plant. To a powerful cultivator with money and status, this herb was almost worthless. But to Yan Minxue, it was everything. She could sell one Spirit Knot Root for enough money to buy three days of food. Three days of rice, maybe some dried vegetables, maybe a small piece of salted fish. Three days where she would not have to go to sleep with her stomach cramping from hunger.
She stopped moving. Her body became completely still. She held her breath and listened. The marsh was quiet except for the soft drip of water falling from the leaves above. She looked down at her hands. They were covered in small cuts and scratches. Dirt was packed under her nails. But her hands were steady. They did not shake.
Yan Minxue was a cultivator. She was weak, yes, but she was still a cultivator. She had reached the third level of Qi Accumulation. In the great sects, a third-level disciple would be considered a servant. They would be the ones who swept the floors, carried water, and washed dishes for the real disciples. But here, alone in the wilderness, that small amount of power was the only thing keeping her alive.
She opened her eyes again and looked at the muddy ground near the tree roots. She thought about the fire. It had been five years since that night. Five years since the Yan Merchant Clan was destroyed. She could still see the flames in her mind. They had been bright orange and red, eating through the beautiful wooden halls of her family home. She could still hear the screams. Her uncles, her cousins, her aunts—all of them screaming as the fire spread and the swords fell.
The Scarlet Hawk Sect had come in the middle of the night. They wore robes the color of fresh blood. They did not just kill people. They laughed while they did it. They took everything. The gold, the spirit stones, the secret cultivation manuals that the Yan Clan had collected over generations. Then, when the halls were burned and the treasure vaults were empty, they looked at the survivors.
The strong ones were killed immediately. A clean death was a mercy they did not deserve, the sect leader had said. But the weak ones, the children and the disciples with poor talent like Yan Minxue, were let go.
The sect leader had walked up to her. She had been kneeling in the mud, covered in ash, her hands tied behind her back. He had looked down at her with cold, empty eyes. His voice had been calm, almost gentle, when he spoke.
"Killing you is a waste of my sword," he had said. "Go and live as beggars. Let the world see what happens to the Yan Clan. Your existence is our joke."
Those words lived inside her chest. They burned hotter than the fire that had destroyed her home. She hated them. She wanted to make them pay. She wanted to stand in front of that man again, but this time as someone strong. Someone powerful. Someone who could make him feel fear.
But she was weak. She had tried to cultivate, to get stronger, but it was almost impossible without resources. She had no spirit stones to absorb. She had no pills to refine her energy. She had no master to teach her advanced techniques. All she had was the basic cultivation method her father had taught her when she was a child, and the small amount of qi she could gather from the natural energy in the air around her.
She could not go to the mortal cities to find work. The mortal cities were full of something cultivators called "Red Dust." This was the heavy, dirty energy created by normal human lives. It came from their greed, their lies, their anger, their noise, and their endless worries about money and status. If a cultivator stayed in the Red Dust for too long, their body would absorb it. It would make their qi impure and heavy. It would ruin their cultivation base forever, turning them into something that was neither mortal nor cultivator—just a broken, sick thing that would die young.
So she stayed here, in the wild, living like an animal. She fought with beasts for food. She dug for herbs in poisonous swamps. She slept in caves and under trees. She had not spoken to another human being in over two months.
She took a careful step forward. The mud made a soft squishing sound under her boot. She knelt down and reached out with both hands. She pushed aside a thick layer of wet, green moss. There, hidden beneath it, was the Spirit Knot Root.
It was small, about the length of her finger. It was brown and twisted, shaped like a knot of rope. A faint blue light came from inside it, barely visible in the dim marsh. This was the sign that the root had absorbed enough natural energy to be useful for cultivation.
Her heart beat a little faster. This was a good find. She had been searching for three days. She reached into the small pouch at her waist and pulled out a thin tool made of bone. It looked like a tiny shovel, carved from the leg bone of a deer. She could not use a metal tool. Metal would disturb the flow of energy in the herb and ruin its value.
She began to dig. She moved slowly, carefully removing the dirt around the root without touching the root itself. Her fingers were cold and stiff, but her movements were precise. She had done this a thousand times before. She knew exactly how much pressure to use, exactly where to dig. One wrong move and the root would break, becoming worthless.
Snap.
The sound cut through the quiet marsh like a knife. It was loud. It was not the sound of a small branch breaking under the weight of a bird. It was the sound of a tree trunk being crushed.
Yan Minxue froze. Her hand stopped moving. She did not turn her head. She stayed perfectly still and listened.
Behind her, the water was moving. It was not the gentle movement of the current or the soft ripples from the wind. It was a heavy, violent movement. Something big was pushing through the water, displacing huge amounts of it. She felt a vibration travel through the mud and into her knees. Whatever was behind her, it was massive.
Slowly, very slowly, she turned her head to look.
Through the white fog, she saw two yellow lights. They were eyes. They were wide and shaped like the eyes of a reptile, with vertical black slits in the center. The eyes were staring directly at her. They did not blink.
Then, the creature rose from the water.
It was a Swamp Crocodile. But this was not a normal animal. Its body was huge, at least fifteen feet long. Its scales were dark green, almost black, and they looked as hard as iron plates. A strange, bright green energy flowed over its skin like water, making the swamp water around it sizzle and steam. Its mouth opened, revealing rows of teeth as long as daggers. Each tooth was yellow and stained with old blood.
A terrible smell hit her face. It was the smell of rotting meat, of death, of decay.
This was a Level 5 demonic beast. A Level 5 beast had the strength and power of a human cultivator at the fifth or sixth level of Qi Accumulation. Yan Minxue was only at level three. She could not fight this. If she tried to draw her sword, the crocodile would snap it in half with one bite. If she tried to use her weak fire technique, it would only make the beast angrier. There was only one option.
Run.
She did not wait for the beast to roar. She did not waste time being afraid. She exploded into motion. Her hand shot out and grabbed the Spirit Knot Root, ripping it from the ground without care. She shoved it into the front of her shirt and pushed off the ground with all her strength.
She channeled her qi into her legs. The energy flowed through her muscles, making them tighten and strengthen. She felt a small burst of speed. She jumped over a fallen log, landed in the mud on the other side, and kept running. Her boots splashed through shallow water. Her arms pumped at her sides.
Behind her, the water exploded. The Swamp Crocodile lunged forward with terrifying speed. Its massive jaws snapped shut where she had been kneeling just a second ago. The sound was like a thunderclap. The force of the bite was so strong that it sent mud and water spraying into the air.
The beast roared. It was a deep, angry sound that seemed to shake the leaves off the trees. Birds screamed and flew away in every direction. The crocodile scrambled onto the land, its four short legs moving with shocking speed. It crashed through the bushes behind her, smashing small trees out of its way like they were made of paper.
Yan Minxue did not look back. She kept her eyes on the ground in front of her. She had to be fast. She had to be smart. She knew this marsh better than most people. She had lived here for years. She knew where the ground was solid and where it would collapse into deep mud if you stepped on it.
She jumped from a thick tree root to a small patch of dry dirt. She ducked under a low-hanging vine covered in sharp thorns. Her breath was coming in short, painful gasps. Her lungs burned. The cool air of the marsh felt like knives stabbing into her chest with every breath.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The crocodile was getting closer. It was faster than her in a straight line. She could hear its heavy body slamming into the ground with each step. She could hear the cracking and snapping of wood as it destroyed everything in its path. It was angry. It wanted to eat her. To it, she was just meat.
"I cannot die here," she thought. Her mind was racing, searching for a way out. "Not like this. Not as food for a beast."
Ahead of her, she saw a thick grove of bamboo. The stalks were tall and green, packed tightly together. She turned sharply to the left and ran toward it. Maybe the dense bamboo would slow the monster down.
She squeezed her body through the narrow gap between two large bamboo stalks. The rough surface scraped against her arms. Behind her, the crocodile did not slow down. It crashed into the bamboo grove with the force of a landslide. The tough stalks bent and broke with loud cracking sounds. Some of them snapped in half and fell to the ground. But the bamboo did slow the beast down, just for a moment.
Yan Minxue used that moment. She pushed herself harder. Her legs felt heavy, like they were made of stone. She was running out of qi. If her energy ran dry, she would collapse. Her body would give out.
The landscape ahead began to change. The trees became older and darker. Their trunks were thick and covered in moss. The ground became rockier, with large stones sticking up out of the mud. Through the fog, she saw shapes. They were stone shapes. Walls. Pillars. These were the ruins of the ancient tower.
Nobody knew who had built the tower or when. Some people said it was built by a powerful sect that had died out a thousand years ago. Some said it was even older. All that was left now was a pile of broken stones slowly sinking into the swamp. But the stones were large and strong. They were her only chance.
She saw a gap in a broken stone wall ahead. The wall had collapsed long ago, but two massive stone blocks were still standing. There was a narrow space between them, barely big enough for a person to fit through.
She ran toward it as fast as she could. At the last moment, she threw herself forward. She hit the mud and slid on her stomach, scraping her arms and legs on the rough stone. She squeezed her body into the narrow gap, pulling her arms and legs in tight. She curled into a ball in the small, dark space between the stones.
CRASH.
The Swamp Crocodile slammed into the wall. The impact was so strong that the entire stone structure shook. Dust and small pieces of rock fell from above, landing on Yan Minxue's head and shoulders. The beast roared in frustration. It was so close she could feel the heat from its body.
It began to claw at the stone. Its iron-hard claws scraped against the rock, making a horrible screeching sound. Sparks flew where the claws hit the stone. But the gap was too small. The beast could not fit through.
It pushed its snout into the hole. Its hot, stinking breath blew directly onto her face. The smell was so bad it made her stomach turn. She pressed herself against the back wall of the small cave, making herself as small as possible. She put her hand over her mouth to keep herself from coughing.
The beast stayed there. It scratched at the stone again and again. It waited, sniffing the air, trying to find a way to reach her. Yan Minxue did not move. She did not even blink. She barely breathed.
Finally, after what felt like an hour, the crocodile made a low, grumbling sound deep in its throat. It turned its massive body around. She heard its heavy footsteps moving away, back toward the water. It had decided she was not worth the effort. It would go look for easier prey.
Yan Minxue stayed in her hiding spot. She was shaking. Her whole body was trembling. Her heart was beating so hard and so fast that it hurt her ribs. She was covered in mud, sweat, and blood from the scratches on her arms and legs. She waited for a long time, making sure the monster was really gone.
Finally, she slowly began to uncurl her body. Her muscles were stiff and sore. She looked around the small space she was in. It was part of the foundation of the ancient tower. The floor was made of wet stone covered in a thin layer of mud and moss.
Then, she realized something was wrong.
The air in the marsh usually had a faint, sweet smell. It came from the toxic gas that naturally rose from the rotting plants deep in the swamp. Cultivators had to use a small amount of qi to protect their lungs from the gas, or they would get sick. But here, in this small ruin, the smell was getting stronger. Much stronger.
The movement of the crocodile crashing into the wall, combined with her own frantic running, had disturbed something. There must have been a pocket of trapped gas somewhere beneath the ruins, and now it was being released.
A green mist began to seep through the cracks in the stones. It was thick and bright, the color of fresh spring leaves. It moved slowly, like a living thing, flowing along the ground and up the walls.
Yan Minxue's eyes widened. This was concentrated swamp poison. If she breathed this gas, her lungs would burn and melt from the inside. She would die choking on her own blood.
She tried to circulate her qi to create a protective barrier around her body. This was a basic technique all cultivators learned. But when she reached for her qi, she found almost nothing there. She had used all her energy running from the crocodile. She was empty. Defenseless.
She coughed. The gas was already stinging her throat. Her eyes began to water. Tears ran down her dirty cheeks. Panic rose in her chest like a cold hand squeezing her heart. She had escaped the crocodile only to die from poison. She had survived the fire that killed her family only to die here, alone, in the mud.
She looked around desperately for a way out. The green mist was blocking the gap she had come through. She could not go back that way. She turned and crawled deeper into the ruins, moving over broken pillars and piles of rubble. The air was getting thicker. She felt dizzy. Her vision was starting to blur around the edges. Everything looked like it was underwater.
She crawled through a collapsed doorway and into a small, enclosed chamber. The roof had fallen in long ago, but the walls were still standing. They were tall and made of smooth, gray stone. The green gas flowed in after her like a snake, spreading across the floor, rising up the walls, filling the room.
She backed up until her back hit the cold stone wall. She had nowhere else to go. She slid down to the ground, her legs giving out beneath her. Her breathing was shallow and ragged. Each breath hurt.
"Is this it?" she whispered. Her voice was weak and hoarse. "Is this how I die?"
Then, she noticed something strange.
The green gas was filling the room, but it was not coming near her. There was a circle of clear air around her body. No—not around her. Around something on the ground near her feet.
She blinked, trying to clear her blurry vision. She looked down.
Embedded in the mud and broken stone was a small object. It was round, about the size of a walnut. It was a bead. The color was dull gray, like old stone or ash. It did not shine. It did not glow. It looked completely ordinary, like a piece of gravel you would find on any road. It looked like trash.
But around this gray bead, the air was perfectly clear and clean.
Yan Minxue stared at it in amazement. She watched as the bright green gas tried to move forward. But when it got within a foot of the bead, it stopped. It was as if there was an invisible wall around the bead. The gas tried to push through, but it could not. It was being forced back. The bead was repelling the poison, creating a safe zone of pure, breathable air.
She stared at the bead. Her tired mind slowly began to work again, putting the pieces together. This was not a normal stone. A normal stone could not stop toxic gas. This was an artifact. It was something left behind by the people who had built this ancient tower, perhaps hundreds or even thousands of years ago. It had been sitting here, in the mud and the darkness, all this time. It had been working silently, pushing away the filth and poison of the swamp, waiting for someone to find it.
She reached out a trembling hand. Her fingers hovered over the gray bead. She could feel a coolness coming from it. It was not a cold, unpleasant chill. It was a refreshing, clean coolness, like drinking cold mountain water on a hot summer day. The energy coming from the bead felt pure. It felt ancient and powerful, but also gentle.
She understood what this meant. If she had this bead, she could walk through the swamp without fear of poison. She could go to places other herb gatherers and scavengers could not reach. She could find rare plants that no one else could get to. She could sell those plants for real money. She could buy spirit stones. She could buy cultivation pills. She could grow stronger.
This was her chance. The heavens had closed a door when they destroyed her family and her home. But now, a window had opened. It had opened in the mud, in the ruins, in the place where no one else would look.
If she took this bead, her life would change. If she took this bead, she would no longer be just the weak, pathetic beggar of the destroyed Yan Clan. She could cultivate properly. She could grow. She could rise. She could become strong enough to make the Scarlet Hawk Sect regret the day they let her live.
She did not hesitate anymore. She dug her fingers into the cold mud around the bead. It was stuck tight, embedded deep in the ancient stone. She pulled. It did not move. She gritted her teeth and pulled harder, using both hands. The muscles in her arms strained.
With a wet, sucking sound, the bead came free. Chunks of mud and small stones fell away from it.
Immediately, the circle of clear air moved with her. She stood up slowly, holding the gray bead tight in her fist. It felt solid and heavy, heavier than it looked. A strange sensation washed over her whole body. It was not a sound, but a feeling deep in her bones. The bead was active. It was working. It had recognized her touch.
The toxic gas around the room swirled and moved angrily, but it could not touch her anymore. The invisible barrier had expanded to surround her entire body.
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