Chapter 37 - Reunion

The heat of tension fades as the crowd disperses, yet the weight of lingering gazes remains. Cultivators of various backgrounds, sect disciples, and rogue wanderers—all have taken notice of De-Reece's presence. Not just another nameless contender, but a variable in the ever-shifting balance of power.

Kalia rolls her shoulders, shaking off the last remnants of her fight with the Crimson Serpent Sect disciples. Though her expression remains calm, De-Reece knows her well enough to sense the faint irritation beneath her exterior.

She turns to him, arms crossed. "You could have let me finish that fight."

De-Reece meets her gaze evenly. "You were wasting time."

Kalia exhales sharply, but there's no real anger in her tone. "You haven't changed."

De-Reece doesn't respond immediately. In truth, much has changed since they parted. The battles, the training, the near-death experiences. He is not the same as the boy who left the village. Neither is she.

Solar shifts beside him, sniffing the air as though sensing the shifting energy within the city.

Kalia gestures toward the street ahead. "Come on. We need to find an inn, a place to train, and get a proper read on this city. Ironhold is the last true stronghold before the sect selection. There's no point in standing around."

De-Reece nods. "Agreed. Lead the way."

As they move deeper into Ironhold, the scale of the city becomes clearer. Unlike small villages or common trade towns, Ironhold is a fortress built for warriors. Every street is lined with battle-hardened mercenaries, wandering cultivators, and sect-affiliated fighters.

The city is divided into four primary districts:

The Warrior's Quarter – Where combat halls, sparring arenas, and sect recruitment stations reside.The Merchant's Ring – A vast trade district, housing alchemists, blacksmiths, and artifact dealers.The Outer Slums – A lawless region where rogue cultivators and unorthodox sects have influence.The Central Plaza – The administrative heart of Ironhold, where the Sect Registration Hall is located.

Kalia glances toward the Warrior's Quarter, smirking. "We should go there soon. No better way to gauge the competition than to fight them."

De-Reece listens but keeps his focus on the Merchant's Ring. Alchemy and forging will be just as crucial as combat in the coming days. The right materials could push his techniques to a new level.

Before either can speak further, a group of uniformed men move past them—disciples of the Mount Hua Sect, their embroidered robes marked by the cherry blossom insignia. Their presence commands instant attention, their refined qi control evident even in casual movement.

One of them glances toward De-Reece and Kalia as they pass, assessing but uninterested. Sect disciples hold little regard for nameless wanderers.

Kalia watches them go. "Orthodox sect members are gathering early. Some of them might be looking for pre-trial recruits."

De-Reece remains silent, but the thought lingers. Some contestants will enter the trials already favored by powerful sects. Others will have to carve their own path through sheer force of will.

They reach a modest but sturdy inn near the Merchant's Ring. The keeper, an old but sharp-eyed man, raises a brow as they step inside. "Two rooms or one?"

Kalia leans against the counter. "One. We don't waste coin."

The keeper's expression remains neutral as he tosses a single iron key onto the counter. "Second floor. Meals are extra."

De-Reece grabs the key, glancing at Kalia. "What first? Combat or preparation?"

Kalia smirks. "You always were more of a planner. But I won't say no to a fight if the opportunity presents itself."

De-Reece nods. "Then we start with the Merchant's Ring. After that, we'll see how much strength our competition really has."

Solar lets out a low growl of approval.

Ironhold is a city of warriors, and for the next month, it is their battlefield.

The storm of the Sect Selection is still distant, but here, the winds of battle have already begun to stir.

The heartbeat of Ironhold is not its arenas or its training halls—it is its markets.

The Merchant's Ring is a sprawling district filled with open-air stalls, enclosed pavilions, and towering emporiums, all catering to cultivators preparing for the Sect Selection. Blacksmiths hammer away at enchanted steel, alchemists refine shimmering elixirs, and artifact dealers display rare treasures that gleam with hidden power.

The air is thick with the scent of incense and medicinal herbs, a strange but comforting mix of burnt sandalwood and spirit-infused roots. The sheer variety of goods is staggering—beast cores, refined qi pills, formation scrolls, exotic weapons—each vendor shouting over the others, trying to lure customers into their stalls.

Kalia grins. "Now this is a place worth spending time in."

De-Reece scans the surroundings. Unlike the chaotic markets of lesser towns, the Merchant's Ring is heavily structured—divided into specific sections:

Alchemy Pavilion – Where pills, elixirs, and medicinal herbs are sold.Forging Hall – Home to renowned blacksmiths and spiritual weapon crafters.Artifact Row – A place for enchanted items, formation scrolls, and hidden treasures.Beastmaster's Den – Where spirit beasts are traded, trained, or sold.

Solar lets out a low growl, sniffing the air warily as they move deeper into the bustling crowds. Other spirit beasts are nearby. Some in cages, some freely roaming under the command of their masters.

De-Reece notes this carefully. Spirit beasts are rare, and many would kill to claim one like Solar. He will have to remain alert.

De-Reece's first stop is the Alchemy Pavilion. Here, rows of potion makers, pill refiners, and herbalists barter over the finest ingredients. Some are legitimate, others not.

A hunched old woman crushes a spirit-infused lotus petal into fine powder, her wrinkled hands steady despite her age. A masked alchemist, clad in dark robes, sells poisons in whispered exchanges, his customers departing quickly, hands hidden beneath their sleeves.

De-Reece moves with purpose, scanning the displayed wares. He needs materials to refine his body further, stabilize his qi, and push past his limits.

A list forms in his mind:

✔ Blackwood Sap – Strengthens bones and body resilience.

✔ Silverthorn Berries – Accelerates muscle recovery.

✔ Ghostshade Flower – Enhances qi control, but poisonous if improperly handled.

✔ Drifting Cloud Leaf – A rare herb that enhances movement techniques, perfect for his Shadow Phantom Steps.

He approaches a vendor, a young alchemist clad in light blue robes, the emblem of an alchemy clan stitched onto his sleeve.

The vendor eyes De-Reece and Kalia before offering a polite nod. "Looking for something specific, traveler?"

De-Reece gestures toward the Blackwood Sap and Ghostshade Flower. "How much for these?"

The alchemist hums. "Refined, they sell for three silver each. Raw, I can part with them for one silver and fifty copper."

Kalia scoffs. "That's robbery. Five silver for both refined, or three if raw."

The vendor chuckles, unfazed. "You drive a hard bargain. Four silver for the raw ingredients, final offer."

De-Reece reaches for his coin pouch, handing over the silver without another word. The investment is worth it.

The clang of hammers on enchanted steel rings through the Forging Hall, where blacksmiths forge weapons capable of slaying beasts and breaking through defensive techniques.

The scent of burning metal and smoldering embers fills the air, mixing with the charged presence of cultivators testing the weight of blades, the sharpness of spears, and the balance of throwing daggers.

Kalia runs her fingers along the edge of a curved saber, inspecting its craftsmanship before setting it down. "Not bad, but nothing exceptional."

De-Reece studies the displayed weapons, his gaze settling on a row of blades carved with intricate runes. The markings aren't just for decoration—they're formations designed to enhance durability, sharpness, or even channel qi.

A grizzled blacksmith steps forward, arms thick as tree trunks, his beard dusted with ash. "Looking for something specific?"

De-Reece glances at a dark-steel dagger lined with crimson veins. "What's this?"

The blacksmith's grin widens. "Bloodthorn Dagger. Forged with a mix of spirit beast blood and cold iron. It drinks the qi of its user but increases piercing power."

De-Reece turns it in his hand. A useful weapon, but not suited for him.

Kalia picks up a twin set of daggers, their blades lined with a faint green aura. The blacksmith notices her interest and laughs. "Those are laced with a mild venom. Good for quick kills."

Kalia twirls one between her fingers before tossing it back onto the stall. "I prefer my own weapons."

De-Reece steps back, scanning the rest of the hall. No weapon here surpasses what he already carries. His Cheon Ma Sin Gun's Sword remains unmatched, though the thought of reforging or upgrading it lingers in his mind.

As they leave the Forging Hall, the streets grow louder, more tense. More competitors are arriving in Ironhold, and factions are beginning to make their moves.

Ahead, a group of disciples clad in matching indigo robes stand in a loose formation, blocking a side street. Their symbols mark them as Jin Spear Sect hopefuls, warriors trained in deadly formation combat.

To the left, a lone figure in white and gold stands calmly near an auction house—Kaelen.

He has already noticed De-Reece and Kalia. His smirk is unreadable, but his presence here is no accident.

Further ahead, a pair of masked figures clad in black watch from an alleyway. Not sect disciples, but rogue cultivators, perhaps affiliated with the Black Fang Society.

Kalia cracks her knuckles. "Looks like things are getting lively."

De-Reece exhales slowly.

Ironhold isn't just a place to prepare—it's a battlefield long before the trials begin.