The setting sun bled like blood, dyeing the border wasteland crimson.
Sand and wind swept over the dry stones, letting out a mournful wail. Lin Chen stood silently in the shadow of a cliff, his single arm behind his back. His plain dark tunic fluttered in the wind; the blue‑black poison veins on his neck remained hidden, his aura as heavy and silent as the lifeless rock beneath his feet.
Three days prior, the Pavilion Master had given only one order: "Intercept the poison‑escort caravan and retrieve the secret document."
No route, no time, no details of the enemy.
Everything was a test.
A blade of the Shadow Assassins never needed extra guidance.
In the distance, dust slowly rose.
A team of more than ten men approached slowly. The carriage was heavy, its wheels grinding over sand and gravel with a dull rumble. The guards all wore black masks and carried long blades at their waists. Their steps were steady, their auras condensed—each was at least at the mid‑True Martial realm. The two leaders were peak True Martial, their eyes sharp as eagles, scanning all directions with extreme vigilance.
At the center of the caravan, a pitch‑black carriage was tightly guarded. Its compartment was sealed, exuding a faint, sweet stench—the unique odor of highly toxic raw materials.
Lin Chen's eyes turned cold.
What the Pavilion Master wanted was never any secret document.
He wanted Lin Chen to fight against overwhelming odds and carve a path of blood through despair. He wanted Lin Chen to stain his hands with the blood of foreign forces, binding him irrevocably to the Shadow Assassins. Most of all, he wanted to see just how sharp this one‑armed, poison‑ridden blade could become.
He did not move, still hidden in the shadows, his fingers gently stroking the hilt of the Shadow Dagger.
The Shadow Kill Steps circulated in his consciousness, his true essence settled in his dantian, and the venom lurked in his meridians.
No hurry.
The more vigilant the prey, the more he must wait for the fatal moment.
The caravan reached the base of the cliff, a narrow stretch flanked by steep stone walls.
The leading guard frowned slightly and raised a hand to signal the team to halt. "This terrain is dangerous. Stay alert!"
Before his voice faded—
Lin Chen moved.
No sound, no warning.
He pushed the Shadow Kill Steps to their limit, his body streaking down from the cliff shadow like a bolt of ink‑black lightning!
The wind howled.
One guard had just sensed movement and turned his head when the Shadow Dagger struck like a viper, piercing his throat.
Pfft.
Blood spurted. The guard collapsed without a sound.
Chaos erupted!
"Assassin!"
The guards reacted instantly, drawing their blades. Cold light flashed as they charged toward Lin Chen in a tight formation. The wind of the blades howled, true essence roiled, and sand and gravel flew.
Lin Chen did not dodge or resist head‑on. His single arm moved, weaving a net of dagger shadows.
He refused to clash with multiple enemies at once. Instead, he weaved through the blade light, his Shadow Kill Steps eerily precise. Each step landed in the gaps between attacks, each strike aimed at a vital point.
A guard slashed horizontally with a powerful stroke.
Lin Chen slid sideways, the dagger tip hooking upward toward the man's wrist.
Crack.
His wrist bone shattered, and the blade slipped from his grasp.
Lin Chen spun with the momentum, driving his elbow into the man's chest.
Thud.
The guard spat blood and flew backward, slamming into the stone wall, motionless.
Another attacker lunged from the side, a short blade stabbing toward Lin Chen's lower back.
Lin Chen shifted his foot, flipping close to the ground to avoid the blade. He pushed off with one arm and swept his legs outward.
Thud.
The man lost his balance and fell. Lin Chen's dagger struck downward, piercing his dantian.
His core shattered, his life snuffed out.
In mere breaths, several guards lay dead.
The remaining guards were shocked and enraged, yet filled with greater dread. This one‑armed youth moved with ruthless precision and eerie speed, his every strike devoid of wasted motion, brimming with the will to kill.
"Attack together! Kill him!"
The two peak True Martial guards charged at the same time. One slashed downward with a blade, its aura towering; the other threw a double punch, the wind thunderous, true essence condensed into an overwhelming force.
A pincer attack, leaving no room for escape.
Lin Chen's expression did not change. He suddenly sank low, dodging the blade and fists. Gravel exploded beneath his feet as he closed in on the swordsman to his left.
The swordsman quickly pulled his blade to defend.
Lin Chen suddenly feinted, diverting the man's balance. He then clamped the swordsman's wrist with his single arm and twisted sharply.
"Aah—!"
A scream tore through the wind.
Before the man could struggle, Lin Chen's dagger sliced across his throat.
Blood gushed like a spring.
The last peak guard's pupils constricted, icy terror surging through him. He abandoned his attack and turned to flee, desperate to escape this hellish battlefield.
Lin Chen lifted his eyes, his gaze cold as a blade.
The Shadow Kill Steps activated again, and he closed the distance in an instant.
The guard looked back in panic, throwing wild punches.
Lin Chen dodged sideways, the Shadow Dagger piercing straight through his forehead.
Pfft.
All fell silent.
The wind still wailed. Bodies littered the wasteland, blood seeping into the sand, staining it dark red.
Lin Chen sheathed his dagger, his single arm hanging loosely. His breath came slightly quicker, and the poison veins on his neck reappeared with the exertion of true essence, appearing even more eerie. He walked slowly to the black carriage and lifted the curtain.
Inside, there was no secret document.
Only an exquisite black wooden box, carved with strange patterns and exuding a thick, poisonous aura.
Lin Chen's fingers brushed the box, his eyes darkening.
The Pavilion Master had not told the truth.
This was not a document. It was poison.
A deadly toxin capable of controlling an entire faction.
He picked up the box, slipped it into his robes with a flick of his arm.
In the distance, several faint auras flashed and vanished, not daring to draw near.
Lin Chen lifted his gaze toward the end of the sandstorm.
The wind at the border was colder than within the Shadow Assassins Pavilion.
This ambush was not a mission.
It was a trap.
And he had no way out.