Chapter 7

The air in the slums was thick with tension. Word of Shen Tian's victory over Zhao Kun's men had spread like wildfire, and now, whispers of his name echoed through the alleys. Some called him a fool for challenging the balance of power; others watched him with wary respect.

Shen Tian did not concern himself with their opinions. His path was set.

He sat cross-legged in his shack, focusing inward. The Phantom Veins Sutra had begun reshaping his frail body, drawing in the faintest traces of energy. Each breath strengthened his foundation, reinforcing his damaged meridians.

It was not enough.

He needed more power, and he needed it soon.

A knock at the door pulled him from his meditation.

Jiang Hao stood outside, his expression unreadable. "You've been making waves, and not just in the slums."

Shen Tian arched a brow. "Meaning?"

Jiang Hao stepped inside, lowering his voice. "Someone's looking for you. Not Zhao Kun—someone worse."

Shen Tian leaned back. "Tell me."

"A group called the Black Hounds. They're enforcers for one of the lesser city lords. They don't like troublemakers rising too fast." Jiang Hao's lips curled into a smirk. "And you? You're the biggest troublemaker the slums have seen in years."

Shen Tian considered the implications. The Black Hounds were no mere street thugs; they were trained killers, men who thrived in the lawless corners of Broken Sky City. If they had set their sights on him, it meant his existence had become a threat to someone powerful.

Good.

He had no intention of hiding.

"When will they come?" he asked.

Jiang Hao hesitated. "Soon. But I have an idea—one that might keep you alive long enough to grow stronger."

Shen Tian gestured for him to continue.

"There's a place outside the slums," Jiang Hao said. "A ruin, buried beneath the old district. People say it belonged to a forgotten sect, one that disappeared centuries ago. Most avoid it—say it's cursed."

Shen Tian's interest sharpened. A forgotten sect? If there was even the slightest chance of finding remnants of lost cultivation techniques or artifacts, it was worth the risk.

Jiang Hao leaned in. "I can lead you there. But we won't be alone. Others have heard the rumors, and not all of them are scavengers."

Shen Tian's gaze turned cold. "Then I'll deal with them."

The ruins were nothing more than crumbling stone and twisted metal, hidden beneath layers of collapsed buildings. The air was stale, thick with the scent of dust and decay.

Jiang Hao led the way, his steps cautious. "People say those who enter never return."

Shen Tian barely spared him a glance. "Then let's prove them wrong."

They moved in silence, their eyes scanning the darkness. Strange markings lined the walls—faint etchings that spoke of an era long past.

Shen Tian ran his fingers over one of the symbols. A faint pulse of energy flickered beneath his touch.

This place is not dead.

A sudden noise broke the silence.

Shen Tian and Jiang Hao turned, their hands instinctively reaching for weapons.

Figures emerged from the shadows—five of them, their faces hidden beneath dark hoods. They carried rusted swords and jagged daggers, their postures tense.

Scavengers.

One of them stepped forward, his voice low and raspy. "You're trespassing."

Shen Tian met his gaze without fear. "So are you."

The man smirked. "Difference is, we were here first." He lifted his blade. "Leave your supplies and walk away."

Jiang Hao tensed, ready to fight. But Shen Tian remained still.

He had no intention of leaving.

The scavenger leader's smirk faltered under Shen Tian's unwavering stare. There was no fear in his eyes—only cold calculation.

Then Shen Tian moved.

His body blurred, his weakened frame suddenly filled with deadly precision. He sidestepped the first strike, his fingers twisting into the scavenger's wrist. A sharp snap echoed through the chamber.

The man screamed, his blade falling to the ground.

The others hesitated, their confidence shaken.

Shen Tian did not.

He stepped forward, his movements fluid, his strikes efficient. A kick sent another scavenger sprawling. A swift elbow shattered a nose. Within moments, only one remained standing.

The survivor dropped his weapon and fled into the darkness.

Jiang Hao exhaled, shaking his head. "You really don't hesitate, do you?"

Shen Tian knelt beside the fallen leader, ignoring the comment. He searched the man's belongings, pulling free a small, ancient scroll.

The moment he touched it, a faint surge of energy coursed through his fingers.

This was what he had been looking for.

His path forward had just become clearer.

As they left the ruins, Jiang Hao glanced at him. "So? Was it worth it?"

Shen Tian tucked the scroll into his sleeve. "We'll find out soon enough."

The slums had been the beginning. Now, he had something real—a remnant of an era long past.

And with it, he would carve his way back to power.

No matter what stood in his way.