Chapter 10

The tension in the slums of Broken Sky City was palpable. Word had spread—whispers in the alleyways, murmurs in the dens of criminals. A noble house had taken an interest in Shen Tian.

That alone was enough to change everything.

Shen Tian sat cross-legged in the darkened corner of his shack, his breath slow and measured. The faint strands of spiritual energy drawn in by the Phantom Veins Sutra coursed through his body, reinforcing his weakened meridians. Each wisp of power was a step toward reclaiming his lost strength.

He had survived countless lifetimes. This city, its nobles, its cutthroat underbelly—none of it frightened him.

But he knew better than to be careless.

House Zhao would not sit idle.

And so, neither would he.

Jiang Hao entered without knocking, his expression tight with urgency.

"We have a problem."

Shen Tian opened his eyes. "I assume you're not talking about the usual filth of the slums."

Jiang Hao scoffed. "If only. Someone's been moving through the city, asking about you. Not just the usual enforcers—real professionals."

Shen Tian's gaze sharpened. "Trained specialists?"

Jiang Hao nodded grimly. "And not the kind you can scare off with words."

Shen Tian considered this. The earlier incident with the Black Hounds had been a test, a crude attempt to remove him. But now, House Zhao was making real moves. That meant they saw him as more than an inconvenience.

It meant they feared what he could become.

Good.

Fear was the first step toward control.

Night fell over Broken Sky City, and with it, an eerie silence settled over the streets.

Shen Tian stood in the shadows of an abandoned courtyard, his senses stretched to their limit. The air was unnaturally still. Not even the wind carried its usual filth through the alleys.

Then, a flicker.

A presence.

Shen Tian moved before thought, stepping to the side as a faint ripple disturbed the air where he had stood. A blade shimmered in the dim moonlight before vanishing back into the darkness.

His attacker was skilled. Silent. Efficient.

But they had made a mistake.

They had come for him.

The figure lunged again, their movements swift and precise. Shen Tian dodged, his steps ghostlike, the Void Shadow Sutra guiding his body. He did not waste energy. He did not counterattack.

Not yet.

His opponent adjusted, striking from different angles, but Shen Tian anticipated each attack. The longer the fight dragged on, the clearer it became—his attacker relied on overwhelming speed, but they lacked adaptability.

A moment of hesitation—small, but present.

Shen Tian seized it.

With a fluid motion, he sidestepped, redirecting his opponent's momentum. A controlled strike to a pressure point sent the figure stumbling. Before they could recover, he caught their wrist, twisting just enough to force them into a vulnerable position.

A knife appeared in his free hand—Jiang Hao's, borrowed earlier. He pressed it against the assailant's arm, keeping them restrained.

Silence.

Then, a soft chuckle.

"Not bad," the attacker murmured. Their voice was smooth, female.

Shen Tian's grip did not waver. "Who sent you?"

The woman smirked. "You already know."

House Zhao. Of course.

Shen Tian studied her. She was young, no older than her early twenties, but her presence carried the weight of experience. Her movements had been refined—not something learned in the slums.

"Your name?"

She arched an eyebrow. "Do you make a habit of asking names after besting someone?"

Shen Tian's expression remained unreadable. "You're still standing. That should tell you something."

A pause. Then, a smirk.

"Yan Rui."

He committed the name to memory.

Jiang Hao was waiting when Shen Tian returned, his expression tense.

"Well?"

Shen Tian tossed the knife back to him. "House Zhao's getting serious. They're hiring trained fighters now."

Jiang Hao cursed under his breath. "So what now?"

Shen Tian's eyes gleamed.

"We send them a message."

House Zhao sat atop Broken Sky City like a fortress of wealth and influence. Within its walls, nobles schemed, warriors trained, and power was consolidated behind closed doors.

But tonight, something changed.

A single message arrived at their gates.

A simple note, written in bold, deliberate strokes:

Try harder.

The halls of House Zhao trembled that night.

And far away, in the slums, Shen Tian prepared for the storm he had just unleashed.