Before the morning mist had lifted, two figures stood silently on the stone path outside the Shadow Assassins Pavilion.
The Pavilion Master was cloaked in black, his face still hidden in shadow, only his cold eyes visible. His aura was restrained and profound; unless one deliberately sensed it, he appeared no different from an ordinary elder. Yet Lin Chen could clearly perceive the terrifying Transforming Sea realm pressure hidden within that seemingly calm frame—a slumbering beast that, with the slightest stir, could crush everything around it.
Lin Chen stood half a pace behind, head bowed, his single arm hanging naturally at his side. The poison box was hidden safely in his robes, his aura subdued, devoid of any excess emotion.
"Let us go."
With a single quiet word, the Pavilion Master's figure blurred, already several zhang away.
Lin Chen followed closely, activating the Shadow Kill Steps. His form moved like a shadow, steady and unhurried, always maintaining that half‑pace distance.
The entire journey was silent.
Wind rustled through the treetops; only the faint sound of robes cutting through the air could be heard. The Pavilion Master kept his eyes closed the entire time, seemingly resting, yet Lin Chen distinctly felt his divine sense sweeping intermittently over the poison box in his arms—inspecting, evaluating.
By midday, the outline of Windfall City came into view.
A crucial border stronghold, its walls were mottled and scarred with blade marks and arrow holes. A chaotic mix of travelers filled the streets—warriors, merchants, foreign faces—with the air thick with smoke and a faint coppery tang of blood.
The two entered the city without attempting concealment, yet countless hidden glances converged upon them.
Warriors at street‑side tea stalls traced their blades, their eyes filled with awe at the Pavilion Master's black robes. Spies lurking in alleyways fixed their gazes on Lin Chen's missing arm, their expressions flickering. Several even stronger auras hid atop tall buildings, locking onto the pair like falcons.
Lin Chen kept his gaze forward, steps steady, silently memorizing each of these presences.
Windfall City was far more complicated than he had imagined.
The Pavilion Master seemed oblivious, striding directly toward the city's most luxurious establishment—the Returning Cloud Inn.
The inn was bustling, yet the moment the two stepped inside, the noise abruptly died.
All eyes snapped toward them, only to quickly drop in submission upon feeling the Pavilion Master's aura.
The innkeeper hurried over, bowing deeply. "Honored Pavilion Master, your private chamber has long been prepared."
The Pavilion Master nodded and ascended the stairs.
The top‑floor chamber was bright and simply furnished. The Pavilion Master sat by the window, tapping his fingers lightly on the table, his gaze drifting toward the noisy street below. "Wait here."
Lin Chen stood behind him, silent.
Half an hour later, the door was gently pushed open.
A figure in a purple robe stepped slowly inside. His face was delicate, his skin an eerie ashen‑green, and a faint sweet‑and‑rank poisonous aura clung to him. His eyes swept over the Pavilion Master before settling on Lin Chen, narrowing slightly.
"Master Cisheng, my respects." The purple‑robed man cupped his hands, his tone flat yet arrogantly condescending. "I am Mo Shi, envoy of the Ten Thousand Poison Cave."
Ten Thousand Poison Cave.
A faint coldness flickered in Lin Chen's eyes.
The foremost power of the foreign poison path, it had long kept its distance from the Shadow Assassins Pavilion. The Pavilion Master's meeting was indeed related to poison.
The Pavilion Master lifted his eyes, glancing faintly at Mo Shi, his expression unchanged. "Envoy Mo has traveled far. You must be weary."
"Weariness is irrelevant." Mo Shi sat, tapping his fingers on the table. His gaze returned to Lin Chen. "Is this the rising star under your command—the one‑armed warrior who slew a Spiritual Sea expert and intercepted our cave's poison caravan?"
His words were direct, carrying undisguised scrutiny and a trace of hidden sarcasm.
A broken body—did it truly deserve to be a blade of the Shadow Assassins?
Lin Chen lifted his eyes, meeting Mo Shi's gaze steadily. His expression was cold, calm, and unyielding.
No words were needed. This silent confrontation was the hardest of responses.
Mo Shi's brow lifted in surprise, seemingly not expecting such defiance from the one‑armed youth. He turned back to the Pavilion Master and chuckled. "Your judgment is sharp, Pavilion Master. This boy does possess some backbone. Still… a poison‑tainted body and a severed limb—such a blade is easily broken, easily turned against its wielder. Are you not afraid you will nurture a blade that ultimately wounds you?"
The subtext could not have been clearer.
By employing such a troubled weapon, were you not courting self‑destruction?
The Pavilion Master's tapping paused. His gaze fell upon Mo Shi, his tone calm and unwavering. "A blade's sharpness lies not in its wholeness, but in its ability to kill. My blade seized the Shadow Prison Poison Core from your cave. It clearly serves its purpose."
A single sentence, casually spoken, yet brimming with rebuke.
If I could intercept your caravan and steal your treasure, I could just as easily slay your subordinates. The Ten Thousand Poison Cave would do well to know its place.
Mo Shi's expression darkened, his ashen skin turning even colder. "You speak bluntly, Pavilion Master. Yet the Shadow Prison Poison Core cost our cave countless efforts to nurture. For you to seize it with a single order is far too overbearing."
"Overbearing?" The corner of the Pavilion Master's mouth curved upward. "In the borderlands, the strong rule. If you possessed Transforming Sea power, you could likewise march into my pavilion and take what you wish."
The words "Transforming Sea" landed like a heavy hammer.
Mo Shi's aura faltered, a flash of dread crossing his eyes.
He was merely peak Spiritual Sea; before a Transforming Sea expert, he stood no chance.
After a moment of silence, Mo Shi suppressed his anger and softened his tone. "Enough. Let the past remain past. I doubt you summoned me here merely to show off your new blade. Speak plainly—what of our cooperation?"
"The poison is yours; the western border territories are mine." The Pavilion Master spoke directly. "I will help you quell internal strife within your cave. You will help me eliminate dissent within my pavilion."
"Agreed." Mo Shi nodded, then his tone sharpened. "But I have one condition."
The Pavilion Master lifted his eyes. "Speak."
"This boy." Mo Shi pointed at Lin Chen, his gaze burning. "He carries a strange poison, of the same origin as our cave's. I want his method of controlling poison… or… I want him to join the Ten Thousand Poison Cave."
As the words landed, the atmosphere in the chamber turned icy.
Lin Chen's gaze turned frigid, his single arm tensing as the Shadow Dagger trembled faintly in his palm.
They were targeting him.
The Pavilion Master's gaze settled on Lin Chen. After a brief pause, he spoke calmly. "He is my blade. He obeys only me. His poison‑controlling method is his own fortune. As for joining your cave—impossible."
His refusal was absolute.
Mo Shi's face darkened again, yet he dared not press the issue. He snorted coldly. "Very well. We will discuss the details of our cooperation in three days."
With that, he rose and left.
As he reached the door, his sleeve flicked, and a black token carved with poison patterns slipped silently to the floor, landing precisely at Lin Chen's feet.
The token fell soundlessly, yet radiated a dense poisonous power.
It was a test—and a provocation.
Without a backward glance, Mo Shi pushed the door open and departed.
Silence returned to the chamber.
Lin Chen looked down at the poison‑patterned token at his feet, his fingers twitching slightly.
The Pavilion Master's voice sounded slowly, calm and even. "Pick it up."
Lin Chen bent and retrieved the token with his single arm.
It was icy to the touch. Poisonous power surged up his fingers into his meridians, clashing with the poison veins within and stinging sharply.
"Crush it." The Pavilion Master commanded again.
Lin Chen channeled power into his palm, his true essence wrapping around his own venom and erupting violently.
Crack.
The token shattered into pieces. The poison within was forcibly devoured, refined, and merged into his meridians.
The blue‑black veins on his neck flickered faintly before vanishing. His aura, far from destabilizing, grew even more condensed.
He brushed away the fragments and bowed. "Pavilion Master."
The Pavilion Master looked at him, a faint glint in his eyes. "Remember this: you are a blade of the Shadow Assassins, not bait for the Ten Thousand Poison Cave. Undercurrents surge in Windfall City. Tonight will not be peaceful."
The truth was laid bare.
Lin Chen understood.
Mo Shi's test, the Pavilion Master's warning, and the countless watching eyes in the city—all signaled that storm would come before dawn.
He bowed. "This subordinate understands."
The Pavilion Master waved a hand. "Retire and rest. Guard yourself well."
"Yes."
Lin Chen turned and exited the chamber. In the instant the door closed, he clearly sensed several hidden auras locking onto the direction of his guest room.
Night deepened. Lights flickered to life across Windfall City.
A secret attack was already being prepared.