Chapter 7: Dark Words

The oppressive silence of the chamber hung like a shroud, broken only by the faint shuffle of feet as the unchosen candidates retreated into the shadows. Their envy and despair clung to the air, heavy and palpable. The chosen stood apart—Yao Qin, Huin Li, and Taren Fang—their positions marked by the Redbloom King's decree.

The Redbloom King stepped forward, his crimson robes trailing behind him like liquid flame. His gaze swept over the chamber, lingering briefly on the chosen. "The Proving Grounds have sifted competence from mediocrity. But competence alone is not enough. The trials ahead will determine if you are worthy of more."

His sharp eyes settled on Huin Li first. "Huin Li," he intoned, "your precision and the power of the 100-Year Yin Body are assets that demand refinement." She bowed deeply, her movements as precise as her aura.

The King's gaze shifted to Taren Fang. "Taren Fang, your fiery strength embodies untamed potential—a force waiting to be shaped." Taren thumped a fist to his chest, his confidence radiating through the room.

Finally, the King's eyes locked onto Yao Qin. The weight of his scrutiny was suffocating. "Yao Qin," he said, his voice a blade cutting through the silence, "your thread… I intend to test its worth."

Yao Qin held the King's gaze, his dangerous eyes unflinching. Every test is a weapon if wielded right, he thought, his mind already calculating the steps ahead.

Scarface's gravelly voice broke the tension. "Seems like the King's got plans for you, redhead," he drawled, his burned lips curling into a faint smirk. The mockery in his tone was unmistakable, but Yao Qin caught the flicker of something else in his gaze—a predator's interest.

The King's voice cut through Scarface's comment. "Prepare yourselves," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. "Your next trial begins soon."

As the chosen candidates followed Scarface out of the chamber, Huin Li slowed her pace, her sharp eyes flicking to Yao Qin. "Your destiny aura… it's unlike anything I've seen," she said softly, her voice devoid of malice but heavy with curiosity.

"It's a curse," Yao Qin replied evenly, his tone giving nothing away.

Huin Li's lips curved into a faint smile. "Curses and blessings often share the same face." She moved ahead, her steps as fluid as water.

Taren Fang chuckled, his fiery presence undeniable as he matched Yao Qin's pace for a moment. "Doesn't matter what it is, as long as it gets the job done," he said, his voice a deep rumble. His gaze lingered on Yao Qin before he strode ahead, his confidence radiating like heat.

Han Wei walked silently beside Yao Qin, his shoulders slumped. The earlier despair etched into his face was impossible to miss. Yao Qin's chest tightened briefly, but he pushed the feeling aside. He needs to stand on his own, he thought. I can't carry him through this.

The Redbloom King's voice had just begun to resonate through the chamber when the heavy doors groaned open. A bloodied messenger staggered in, his ragged breath and torn clothes silencing the room. All eyes turned to him as he dropped to one knee, his head bowed low.

"Your Majesty," he gasped, his voice cracking. "The Tang Clan and the Dark Mountain Faction… They've joined forces. They're attacking your shops and investments in the southern districts. The damage is… significant."

The captains' postures shifted, the weight of the news pressing down on the room. Scarface's burned lips twisted into a sneer. "Teaming up, are they? Must be desperate to pull a move like that."

Grimfang leaned forward, his massive frame casting a shadow over the messenger. "Let me loose," he growled, his voice a low rumble. "I'll remind them why this city fears the Redbloom King."

Snowveil's icy gaze flicked to the messenger, her voice cool and detached. "And how extensive is the damage?" she asked, her tone sharp as a blade.

"Several shops have been destroyed," the messenger stammered. "Our suppliers maimed or killed, and many of our enforcers have been… overwhelmed."

The Redbloom King raised a hand, silencing the murmurs that had begun to spread. His expression remained calm, but the sharpness in his eyes betrayed the calculations running through his mind. "Their alliance weakens them as much as it strengthens them," he said smoothly. "A united front often carries hidden fractures."

His gaze shifted to the captains. "Scarface, Snowveil, Grimfang—lead the defense. Push back the Tang and the Dark Mountain forces. Remind them why this city bows to me."

The captains nodded, their expressions grim with determination. Grimfang cracked his knuckles, his moustache twitching with anticipation, while Snowveil's icy calm betrayed none of her thoughts.

The King turned to the candidates, his gaze piercing. "As for you," he said, his tone dark and commanding, "your trial begins now. All of you will launch a counter-raid against a supply depot nestled in the hills outside the city. It is a shared facility used by the Tang Clan and the Dark Mountain Faction. Its location ensures that, when attacked, they will turn their suspicions on each other. Prove to me that you are more than tools. Prove that you are weapons."

The King's sharp eyes settled on Taren Fang, his voice slicing through the tension. "You will lead them," he declared, "your fire will guide the blade of this strike. Do not falter."

Taren Fang grinned, his fiery confidence surging as he stepped forward with a thump of his chest. "I won't let you down, Your Majesty."

Murmurs rippled through the other candidates, their reactions a mix of envy and uncertainty. A youth whispered bitterly to his companion, "Why him? I've done more than enough to earn that role." 

"If they put you in charge, I dare say we'd be laughed out of the city," his companion whispered back.

Huin Li's sharp eyes narrowed, her expression cool but thoughtful. She studied Taren Fang's swagger and then shifted her calculating gaze to the King, as though trying to decode his reasoning.

Yao Qin's dangerous eyes flicked to Han Wei, whose pale face betrayed his fear. A faint pang of doubt tugged at Yao Qin's thoughts. Why Taren Fang? His brute force is obvious, but does the King truly believe he can handle this? His mind churned, piecing together the implications. No, there's more to this. The King must have a larger game in play.

Despite the questions gnawing at him, a sliver of relief settled in Yao Qin's chest. Let the oaf take the lead. Let the headsman's axe dance over his neck.

The path from the Redbloom King's crypts stretched long and heavy. Scarface, Snowveil, and Grimfang walked in uncharacteristic silence, their usual swagger replaced by a grim purpose. Occasionally, messengers approached them, relaying updates about the deployment of forces to key positions, their movements carefully orchestrated to counter the looming threat.

It took less than an hour for the candidates to assemble on the steep outskirts of the city, where a narrow path wound toward the eastern hills.

From this vantage, the mighty Red River, which lent the city part of its name, appeared pristine. Untouched by the pollutants that marred its passage through Red Blossom, the river rushed like a coiled dragon descending from the Dark Mountain's waterfalls. Within the city, its waters turned vile and blackened, a stark reminder of the corruption that plagued Red Blossom.

Far on the horizon, barely visible on a clear day, lay the bay—forty kilometers south—where the Red River merged with the sea. Its waters flowed onward to Black Harbour, perhaps the only place more lawless than Red Blossom, Yao Qin mused.

Though he had never visited, tales of Black Harbour echoed in his thoughts. Wicked cultivators who passed through the cult spoke of its chaotic allure. A den of thieves and pirates, where no law held sway but one's own strength. An archipelago of a thousand islands, where heretical and exiled cultivators forged new lives. The seven black pyramids loomed large in those tales, their towering forms sheltering the exiled noble families of the continent, now rebuilding in defiance of their pasts.

A shiver ran down Yao Qin's spine. Part of him yearned to see Black Harbour—its wild freedom, its treacherous beauty. Alas, that is not my destiny.

The air around them was thick with the acrid stench of smoke, remnants of earlier skirmishes clinging like restless spirits. Scarface stood before them, his burned frame casting a long shadow as he gestured toward the distant hills.

"This is your battleground," he said, his gravelly voice sharp and unyielding. "The depot lies ahead, guarded by both Tang and Dark Mountain forces. Your job is simple: disrupt their supplies, take what you can, and make them bleed."

Taren Fang stepped forward, his fiery aura radiating confidence. "We'll bring it down, Scarface. Count on it."

Scarface's burned lips twisted into a smirk. "Talk is cheap, Raging Bull. Let's see if you've got the bite to match your bark."

Yao Qin watched as a flicker of satisfaction crossed Taren Fang's face. The nickname seemed to embolden him, as if it was an acknowledgment of his growing importance. He's half a captain in his own mind already, Yao Qin thought, suppressing a wry smirk. Let's see if that arrogance leads him to glory—or to ruin.

Huin Li tightened the straps on her gear, her sharp eyes scanning the horizon. "Precision, precision, precision," she murmured, more to herself than anyone else. The words fell from her lips more like a desperate prayer than a mantra.

The snow fairy was a pretty girl, carrying a cold, detached, yet innocent air. During the trial, she had appeared mature and composed, but now, with her hands trembling, that illusion had crumbled. Yao Qin had assumed she was in her mid-twenties, but here she looked barely past her teenage years.Yao Qin remained silent, his dangerous eyes finally flicking to Han Wei, who lingered at the back of the group, fidgeting nervously with his dagger.

He's scared, they're all scared. Yao Qin's gaze swept over them, lingering on each candidate. Even the Raging Bull seemed subdued, his earlier bravado half-diminished. Yet Yao Qin felt no such fear. Not in this moment. 

Perhaps it was the cult's training, he mused. Or perhaps it was the thousand times the Gravewalker's powers had pulled me back from the void.

The detachment. Yao Qin sighed softly. Often, he felt like a stranger within his own body, a passenger in his own flesh. Was that to be expected?

Scarface's voice cut through the murmurs of preparation. "Taren, you're in charge. Lead them well—or don't come back." With that, Scarface turned sharply on his heel, his burned frame disappearing down the narrow path toward the captains' command post. The tension he left in his wake was palpable, his absence amplifying the weight of the trial ahead.

The group began their march, the narrow path twisting through the hills. The candidates moved like a patchwork army, their trepidation evident in every step. Whispers of doubt floated among them, subdued but persistent. Some clutched their weapons tighter, their grips betraying clammy hands, while others glanced nervously at the distant horizon.

Huin Li walked with rigid purpose, her sharp eyes betraying no hesitation despite the trembling of her hands moments earlier. She muttered her mantra under her breath, a fragile anchor against the tide of fear. Beside her, Taren Fang strode forward with exaggerated confidence, his fiery aura dimmed but still burning bright. Yao Qin caught the occasional glance from him, as though seeking validation for his newly bestowed authority.

As they approached the depot, the faint glow of lanterns became visible through the trees. Voices carried on the wind—the guttural tones of Dark Mountain warriors mingling with the sharper commands of Tang enforcers.

The depot was alive with activity, its purpose revealed in layers of chaotic motion. Dark Mountain smiths hammered at glowing steel under makeshift forges, the clang of their hammers resonating through the night air. Tang men worked methodically at long tables, packaging pills and concoctions into neat bundles, their movements quick and precise. The depot hummed with productivity, a place of coordination and industry.

Yet for all its bustle, only one or two cultivators appeared to be present, and their auras were faint, their power clearly low-level. The true warriors had already left, drawn to the assault. What remained were the gears of a machine left exposed, waiting for the inevitable strike.

Taren Fang raised a hand, signaling the group to halt. He turned, his fiery gaze sweeping over the candidates. "We strike fast and hard. No room for hesitation. Spread out, find weak points, and hit them where it hurts. Understood?"

Huin Li gave a curt nod, her expression unreadable. Yao Qin's lips twitched into a faint smirk. Let's see if the bull can lead a charge without trampling his own.

The candidates dispersed, moving into position. Yao Qin stayed close to Han Wei, his sharp eyes lingering on the boy's trembling hands. "Focus," he whispered, his tone low but firm. "Fear won't keep you alive."

Han Wei nodded shakily, gripping his dagger tighter. "I'll try."