Shao Xian left the tavern, his mind sharper than ever. Information was power, and now, he knew where to strike first. Jiang Tian was strengthening his position, securing alliances, and eliminating obstacles. That meant he was vulnerable. No man could consolidate power without exposing his weaknesses.
The key to Jiang Tian's dominance lay in his ability to remove threats before they could become problems. That meant he had hired mercenaries and assassins—temporary pawns who were loyal only to silver. If Shao Xian could turn them against him, then Jiang Tian's foundation would begin to crumble before he even realized it.
But before he made a move, Shao Xian needed to confirm a crucial detail—the current state of the Jiang Clan's stronghold.
He moved through the streets of Blackwood Town like a shadow, his presence barely noticeable amidst the bustling crowds. His new robes were dark and plain, making him blend effortlessly among the countless rogue cultivators that passed through the town.
His destination was the Moonlit Pavilion, an establishment infamous for hosting mercenaries, thieves, and wandering warriors. If Jiang Tian had indeed been hiring men, then this was where those contracts were negotiated.
As he entered the pavilion, he was met with a wave of noise—laughter, the clinking of cups, and the occasional angry shout. The scent of wine and sweat filled the air, and the dim lighting concealed more than it revealed.
Shao Xian took a seat in the corner, his back to the wall. He did not need to wait long before he overheard the conversation he was looking for.
"…Jiang Tian's paying a hefty sum to clear out some 'unwanted elements.'"
"Hah! A young master with too much money and too little spine."
"Doesn't matter. Silver is silver. A few bandits, a few rogue cultivators… easy work."
Shao Xian's gaze sharpened. The men speaking were mercenaries, dressed in worn leather armor with weapons strapped to their backs. Their carefree attitudes suggested confidence—perhaps even arrogance. They did not see their employer as someone to fear, only someone to use for coin.
That was their weakness.
Shao Xian stood, moving toward them with slow, deliberate steps. The two men barely noticed him until he was right in front of their table.
"Looking for work?" he asked, his voice calm but firm.
One of the men, a burly figure with a scar across his cheek, looked up with a smirk. "Who's asking?"
Shao Xian took a seat across from them. "Someone who can offer a better deal than Jiang Tian."
That got their attention.
The second man, lean and wiry, narrowed his eyes. "You know, speaking against a Jiang Clan heir isn't exactly wise."
Shao Xian's lips curled into a smirk. "Neither is trusting someone who discards his men once they've served their purpose."
A flicker of hesitation passed through their expressions. So, even they knew Jiang Tian wasn't the most reliable employer.
Shao Xian leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You take his coin, do his dirty work, and when you become a liability, he'll send the next batch of mercenaries to silence you."
The scarred man frowned. "And what do you offer?"
"A different kind of deal," Shao Xian said smoothly. "One where you don't get discarded like trash. One where your employer actually understands how the game is played."
The wiry man chuckled. "And who exactly is this employer?"
Shao Xian's eyes gleamed coldly. "You're looking at him."
Silence.
Then, a slow grin spread across the scarred man's face. "Hah! You've got guts, I'll give you that. But guts alone don't mean anything."
Shao Xian placed a small pouch onto the table. The soft clinking of gold coins echoed slightly as it settled between them. "Consider this an introduction," he said.
The mercenaries exchanged glances. They hadn't expected gold—Jiang Tian's payments were mostly in silver.
The scarred man picked up the pouch, weighing it in his hand before nodding. "Alright, you have my interest. What do you need?"
Shao Xian leaned back, his voice as cold as the night air.
"I need information. Who has Jiang Tian been targeting?"
The mercenaries hesitated for only a moment before answering.
"A few small sects on the outskirts. No one too important—just potential troublemakers."
Shao Xian's expression didn't change, but inwardly, he smirked. Jiang Tian was playing it safe, eliminating threats before they had a chance to grow. That meant he was still uncertain of his own strength.
Good.
Shao Xian stood. "I'll be in contact soon."
As he turned to leave, the scarred man called out, "What do we call you, then?"
Shao Xian paused for a moment. He could not use his old name yet—not until it was time for Jiang Tian to know the true horror of his mistake.
For now, he needed a new identity.
"…Call me Xian."
And with that, he disappeared into the crowd.
---
That night, Shao Xian made his way toward the outskirts of the Jiang Clan's territory. If Jiang Tian was eliminating small sects, then he needed to see for himself how far the damage had spread.
The first location was a small martial school, one that had once been allied with the Jiang Clan before suddenly being declared 'traitorous' and wiped out.
What he found was nothing but ruins.
The air still reeked of blood, and broken weapons lay scattered among charred remains. The Jiang Clan had been thorough—but not thorough enough.
As Shao Xian moved through the debris, he sensed a faint presence nearby. His sharp eyes scanned the darkness before spotting a small figure huddled behind a collapsed wall.
A survivor.
Shao Xian approached cautiously, stepping over shattered bricks and splintered wood. The figure flinched at his approach, revealing a young boy, no older than ten. His robes were torn, his face streaked with dirt and dried blood.
Shao Xian crouched down, his voice calm. "You're the last one, aren't you?"
The boy didn't respond. His eyes were filled with fear—but also something else. Hatred.
That was good.
Shao Xian reached into his robes and tossed a small piece of dried rations toward him. "Eat," he ordered.
The boy hesitated before snatching the food and devouring it hungrily.
Shao Xian watched him, considering. This boy was weak, barely more than a starving orphan—but he had survived. That alone was proof of potential.
And in time, he could be shaped into something far greater.
"What's your name?"
The boy hesitated before muttering, "Lin Feng."
Shao Xian nodded. "Lin Feng. You have two choices. You can stay here and wait to die, or you can follow me and become strong enough to kill the ones who did this."
The boy looked up, his eyes filled with a burning intensity.
"…I want to kill them."
A slow, satisfied smile spread across Shao Xian's lips.
"Then you are mine now."
The first piece had fallen into place.
The Jiang Clan thought they had erased their problems.
But what they had truly done was create a nightmare that would soon consume them.