Gravity took hold. The wind rushed past their ears like a roaring river.
For Uncle Hwan, this was the end. He squeezed his eyes shut, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He expected the crunch of bone, the splash of blood, the cold embrace of death.
But for Kaelen, this was just a tactical descent.
In mid-air, Kaelen didn't flail. He adjusted his center of gravity. He pulled Hwan closer to his chest, wrapping his left arm around the old man's waist like a steel band. His right hand remained free, fingers curled into a claw.
'Thirty feet. Three seconds. Twelve enemies below.'
Kaelen's Dragon Eyes scanned the darkness. The assassins were positioned in a semi-circle, waiting for them to try and run out the back door. They didn't expect their targets to drop from the sky.
Boom!
They landed.
Kaelen didn't land on his feet—that would have transferred the shock to Hwan. Instead, Kaelen bent his knees deep, absorbing the massive impact with his Peak Body Refining muscles. The stone pavement beneath them cracked into a spiderweb pattern, but Hwan didn't feel a thing. He felt as if he had landed on a soft mattress.
"Stay close," Kaelen whispered into Hwan's ear.
Before the dust could settle, the shadows moved.
"Kill them!"
A mercenary in black leather armor lunged from the left. His dagger was coated in green poison, aiming for Kaelen's exposed neck.
Kaelen didn't turn his head. He sensed the fluctuation in the air.
He stepped forward, dragging Hwan with him in a fluid, dancing motion. The dagger missed Kaelen's neck by an inch.
As the assassin passed by, Kaelen's right hand shot out. He didn't punch. He grabbed the assassin's face.
"Too slow."
Kaelen slammed the assassin's head into the stone wall of the auction house.
Crunch.
The assassin crumpled instantly.
"One," Kaelen counted calmly.
The brutality of the move made the other assassins hesitate for a split second. They were professionals, killers who had slaughtered entire families. But they had never seen a target who fought while carrying an old man like a sack of rice.
"Don't be afraid!" A raspy voice hissed from the back. It was the Shadow Leader. "He is burdened! Attack the old man! Force him to defend!"
It was a cruel, dirty tactic. But effective.
Three mercenaries charged at once. Two aimed their swords at Kaelen, but the third one—a short, vicious man—aimed a low sweep at Hwan's legs.
Hwan saw the blade coming. "Young Master, leave me! I am slowing you down!"
"Silence," Kaelen commanded.
Kaelen dropped his center of gravity. He kicked the sword of the first attacker, shattering the blade with his shin. Then, he spun.
Using the centrifugal force, he swung Hwan around—lifting the old man off the ground completely—so that Hwan was in the air, safe from the low sweep.
While Hwan was airborne for that brief second, Kaelen was free.
He punched the short assassin in the chest.
Bang!
The assassin's chest caved in. He flew backward like a broken kite.
Kaelen caught Hwan gently as he came back down, planting the old man's feet on the ground.
"Two," Kaelen counted.
He was breathing rhythmically. His face was calm, but his eyes were burning with a golden ferocity. He was fighting a war on two fronts: defeating the enemy and keeping Hwan safe.
"You are strong," The Shadow Leader stepped out of the darkness. He held two curved daggers that shimmered with dark Qi. "But you are arrogant. Protecting trash will get you killed."
"Trash?" Kaelen looked at Hwan, who was shaking, tears of guilt streaming down his face.
Kaelen looked back at the Leader.
"You call him trash because he cannot fight. I call him family because he refused to leave. That is a strength you mercenaries will never understand."
"Sentiment is for the dead!" The Shadow Leader roared.
He vanished.
It was a movement technique: Shadow Step. He moved so fast he became a blur, appearing behind Kaelen in a heartbeat. His dagger stabbed toward Hwan's back.
Kaelen's pupils constricted into vertical slits.
'He is fast. Spirit Ocean Realm Level 1. If I block this, the shockwave will hurt Uncle.'
Kaelen made a split-second decision.
He didn't block. He turned his body, shielding Hwan with his own back.
Shluck.
The curved dagger pierced Kaelen's left shoulder. Blood—bright red and hot—sprayed onto Hwan's grey robe.
"Young Master!" Hwan screamed.
The Shadow Leader grinned. "Got you."
"Did you?" Kaelen's voice was devoid of pain.
Kaelen's muscles suddenly contracted, trapping the dagger inside his flesh. The Shadow Leader tried to pull the weapon out, but it was stuck as if embedded in solid rock.
"My turn."
Kaelen grabbed the Leader's wrist with his right hand. The Dragon Qi exploded from his palm.
"Burn."
The heat from Kaelen's hand was intense. It wasn't fire; it was pure, concentrated Yang energy.
"Argh!" The Shadow Leader screamed as his wrist bones began to melt. He abandoned his dagger and kicked Kaelen away, retreating into the shadows, clutching his smoking wrist.
Kaelen stumbled back, blood dripping from his shoulder. He pulled the dagger out with a wet sound and tossed it aside. The wound began to close visibly—the regeneration of the Dragon Body was terrifying.
"We are leaving," Kaelen said to Hwan. "Now."
The Shadow Leader, wounded and terrified by Kaelen's monstrous resilience, didn't dare to pursue immediately. "Regroup! Use the crossbows!" he ordered his men.
Kaelen grabbed Hwan and ran.
They sprinted through the dark alleys of Mist City. Kaelen knew these streets. He knew every turn, every shortcut.
...
Half an hour later. Silent Lake Manor.
They burst through the gates, locking them heavily behind.
Kaelen collapsed against the wooden door, sliding down to the ground. His face was pale. The regeneration took a lot of energy.
"Young Master! You are bleeding!" Hwan was in a panic. He tore pieces of his own silk robe to bandage Kaelen's shoulder. "Why? Why did you take that hit? You could have dodged! I saw it! You could have dodged!"
Hwan was sobbing uncontrollably. The guilt was eating him alive. He felt that his existence was the reason Kaelen was hurt.
"If I had dodged..." Kaelen whispered, his eyes closed, "the shockwave would have stopped your heart, Uncle. You are too frail."
"Then let me die!" Hwan yelled, hitting the ground with his fist. "I am just an old servant! You are the Dragon! You are the hope of the family! Why trade gold for copper?"
Kaelen opened his eyes. He reached out and grabbed Hwan's wrist, stopping him.
"Listen to me," Kaelen said, his voice weak but stern.
"In my past... in my dreams... I stood at the peak of the universe. I had millions of servants. I had generals who could crush stars. But when I died, do you know how many of them cried for me?"
Kaelen looked into Hwan's eyes.
"None. Not a single one. They fought over my treasures. They laughed at my corpse."
Kaelen pointed at the tears on Hwan's face.
"These tears... are the only real treasure I have found in two lifetimes. So do not tell me you are cheap copper, Uncle. To me, you are the only gold in this wretched city."
Hwan froze. The words sank deep into his soul. He stopped crying. He looked at Kaelen with a new kind of devotion—not just loyalty, but a fierce, protective love.
"I understand," Hwan whispered, wiping his face. "I will not speak of dying again. I will live. I will live to serve you until my last breath."
"Good," Kaelen smiled faintly. "Now... help me up. We have work to do."
"Work? You need to rest!"
"No," Kaelen stood up, swaying slightly. "The First Elder failed tonight. He will be afraid. Fear makes men sloppy. But it also makes them desperate."
Kaelen walked into the main hall and laid the Sea Demon's Map on the table.
"We cannot stay in Mist City for long. Once I break through to the Spirit Ocean Realm, we must leave for the Endless Sea."
He looked at the map. The red lines seemed to be moving, shifting like living blood.
"But first," Kaelen's eyes turned cold, "I need to send a message. A message that will make the First Elder too terrified to sleep."
"Uncle, bring me a brush and paper."
"What are you going to write, Young Master? A declaration of war?"
"No," Kaelen dipped the brush in red ink. "A death warrant."
He wrote a single name on the paper: "Shadow Blade". Then he drew a line through it.
"Tomorrow morning," Kaelen said, "hang this paper on the front gate of the Shadow Blade Mercenary headquarters."
Hwan gasped. "But... they are killers!"
"Exactly," Kaelen said, walking toward his cultivation room. "And tonight, the hunter becomes the hunted. I'm going to meditate. If anyone comes near the manor... wake me. I will kill them all."
Kaelen entered the room and closed the door.
Alone in the dark, he let the facade of strength drop. He clutched his shoulder, grimacing in pain. The Shadow Leader's dagger had a dark poison. His body was fighting it, burning it away.
'I am still too weak,' Kaelen thought, frustration bubbling up. 'If I had my old power, I would have erased them with a thought. I need to open the Void Cauldron's second seal.'
He sat in the lotus position. The Abyssal Dragon Scripture hummed.
The battle tonight wasn't a victory. It was a survival. But in the fires of survival, the bond between the Master and the Servant had been forged into something unbreakable.
And outside, in the shadows of the manor, the wind howled, carrying the whispers of a storm that was just beginning.