Chapter 40 - Black Market

The entrance to the black market is carved into the ruins of an ancient stone structure, hidden beneath layers of grime and forgotten history. Guards at the doorway—mercenaries, their mismatched armor worn but functional—allow the Demonic Sect cultivator to pass without hesitation.

De-Reece and Kalia slow their approach, blending into the shifting flow of low-level rogue cultivators and wandering traders moving toward the entrance.

Kalia tilts her head slightly, her voice low. "Still think walking in is the best option?"

De-Reece doesn't answer immediately. Even in places like this, appearance matters. Wandering in as they are—**clean robes, no masks, no signs of affiliation—**would make them stand out.

Instead, he reaches into his special storage pouch and pulls out a pair of black hooded robes—one for himself, one for Kalia.

She raises an eyebrow as he tosses one to her. "You've been carrying disguises?"

De-Reece adjusts his hood, his expression unreadable. "Preparation costs nothing."

Kalia snorts. "Sounds like something an old master would say." She pulls hers on anyway.

Before they move forward, De-Reece kneels down and retrieves a third custom-made robe—smaller, modified with side openings to accommodate Solar's movements. He had altered it in his spare time, not expecting to use it so soon.

Solar sniffs it once before stepping into the fabric, shaking it out before settling into stillness. Her golden-violet eyes remain sharp beneath the hood.

Kalia gives De-Reece an amused look. "You made one for her, too?"

De-Reece shrugs. "She stands out more than we do."

Kalia smirks. "Fine. Let's see what this place has to offer."

They step forward, now just two more nameless figures among the shifting crowd.

The guards barely glance at them as they pass.

The underground market is larger than expected, stretching into a vast cavern lit by hanging lanterns infused with dim, flickering qi.

Rows of stalls line the walls, filled with unregulated wares:

Beast cores, still radiating traces of spiritual energy.Black-market cultivation manuals, techniques with unknown origins.Poison stalls, where masked alchemists whisper about slow-killing blends.Bloodforged weapons, rumored to be made with life essence.

The scent of burnt incense and aged parchment mingles with something heavier—the metallic tang of blood, barely masked beneath the perfumed air.

De-Reece moves with purpose, not rushing, not lingering.

They don't need to draw attention.

They only need to find the Demonic Sect cultivator.

Near the center of the market, a secluded stall stands apart from the chaos.

No shouting. No bartering.

Just two figures exchanging quiet words.

The Demonic Sect cultivator stands in front of an old, hooded merchant, their voices just out of reach.

De-Reece and Kalia move to an adjacent stall, pretending to inspect a tray of dull-looking jade talismans.

De-Reece listens.

The old merchant's voice is raspy, filled with amusement. "You ask for something dangerous."

The Demonic Sect cultivator remains still. "It is necessary."

The merchant hums. "Many things are necessary. But few can afford the price."

A pause.

Then, the faintest shift in energy.

The Demonic Sect cultivator produces a small, dark box from his robes.

Even from a distance, De-Reece feels it.

A presence.

Faint, but… unnatural.

Kalia notices it too. She mutters under her breath, "That's not just gold or spirit stones."

The merchant studies the box for a long moment. Then, he nods. "Wait here."

He turns and disappears into a hidden backroom.

The Demonic Sect cultivator does not move.

De-Reece and Kalia exchange a glance.

This is it.

Whatever the merchant is retrieving—whatever the Demonic Sect is after—

It's something worth hiding.

De-Reece remains still, his focus on the Demonic Sect cultivator, who stands before a hooded merchant, waiting for his request to be fulfilled.

A dark box rests in the Demonic Sect cultivator's hands—something he offered as payment. Even from a distance, De-Reece feels the unnatural pulse of energy inside.

The merchant had disappeared into the backroom, retrieving something in exchange.

Whatever it is, it's worth hiding, not selling openly.

De-Reece remains patient. Rushing here gains nothing.

But just as he prepares to wait, his eyes shift slightly.

A small, unassuming wooden stall tucked between two others draws his attention.

Unlike the others, this stall has no signs, no loud advertising. The elderly merchant behind it does not call out to customers.

Instead, he sits silently, waiting.

And on his table…

De-Reece's breath slows.

A Qi-Stabilizing Root.

A vital ingredient in refining the Qi Solidifying Pill.

A pill that strengthens Qi output, ensuring stability and power when executing techniques.

The difference between unstable bursts of strength and true, refined mastery.

A rare find.

Kalia follows his gaze. "Something useful?"

De-Reece nods slightly. "Yes. But we need to stay on the main target."

Kalia raises a brow. "So?"

De-Reece glances back at the Demonic Sect deal—the moment hasn't arrived yet. The merchant is still in the backroom.

Perfect timing.

"We split," De-Reece says calmly. "I stay here. You get the root."

Kalia smirks. "You trust me with your money?"

De-Reece tosses her a small pouch of spirit coins. "Not my money. My time."

Kalia rolls her eyes but moves without protest.

Solar remains with De-Reece, her silent presence blending into the shadows.

The hunt isn't over yet.

De-Reece observes the Demonic Sect deal, waiting for the merchant to return.

Kalia approaches the alchemy stall, negotiating for the QI-stabilising root.

One step ahead.

One step closer to the truth.

And maybe, just maybe, a step toward ensuring his own cultivation breakthroughs before the Sect Selection begins.

De-Reece remains where he is, hood drawn low, the dim underground lanterns casting flickering shadows across his robe. The Demonic Sect cultivator does not move, his posture as still as stone while waiting for the merchant's return.

The air around him is unsettling, not from raw qi pressure, but from something deeper—an unnatural stillness, the kind that comes from those who do not fear being watched.

Solar crouches low beside De-Reece, silent as the darkness itself.

Across the market, Kalia moves toward the alchemy stall, blending into the shifting tide of buyers and sellers.

The curtain shifts.

The merchant returns, holding a small, wrapped bundle in his hands.

He moves carefully, not as one presenting treasure, but as one handling something that should not be disturbed.

The Demonic Sect cultivator does not speak.

He merely extends the dark box in exchange.

The merchant places his bundle in the Demonic Sect cultivator's hands. The moment the cultivator touches it, the air around him distorts ever so slightly.

Not a flare of qi.

Something deeper, more consuming.

De-Reece's gaze sharpens.

What was just exchanged?

The Demonic Sect cultivator opens the bundle slightly, peering inside. Even from this distance, De-Reece catches a glimpse of something faintly glowing, surrounded by dark, silken cloth.

A seal? A suppressed artifact? A forbidden technique?

A second later, the Demonic Sect cultivator closes the bundle.

Satisfied.

Without another word, he turns and moves swiftly, disappearing back into the underground pathways.

The merchant exhales, rubbing his palms together, as if shaking off an unseen weight.

De-Reece doesn't follow immediately.

Instead, he memorizes the merchant's expression.

Not relief.

Not greed.

Something closer to regret.

Meanwhile, Kalia stands before the silent alchemist's stall.

The Qi-Stabilizing Root sits between small trays of less valuable ingredients, as if waiting for the right buyer to recognize it.

The elderly merchant watches her approach but says nothing.

Kalia leans down, studying the plant with an amused smirk. "Hiding treasures in plain sight?"

The merchant's pale eyes gleam slightly. "A treasure is only valuable if someone knows how to use it."

Kalia tosses the small pouch of spirit coins onto the table. "Then I'll take it."

The merchant does not reach for the coins. Instead, his gaze flickers toward De-Reece, still standing near the Demonic Sect's former meeting place.

He sees more than most.

Finally, he picks up the Qi-Stabilizing Root, wrapping it carefully in cloth before handing it over.

Kalia raises an eyebrow. "I thought you'd haggle."

The merchant smiles slightly. "I am always paid in different ways."

Kalia tilts her head slightly but does not press further.

She turns and walks away, tucking the root into a small inner pouch.

Something about the merchant lingers in her thoughts.

But there are more pressing matters.

Kalia meets De-Reece near a quieter corner of the market, slipping the wrapped bundle containing the Qi-Stabilizing Root into his hand.

He barely glances at it before securing it inside his storage pouch.

Kalia watches him carefully. "You saw something, didn't you?"

De-Reece nods once. "The merchant gave him something dangerous."

Kalia exhales. "And we don't know what it is."

De-Reece's fingers tap lightly against the fabric of his robe, thoughts aligning.

This isn't just a casual black-market trade.

The Demonic Sect cultivator came here for something specific. Something hidden.

And whatever was exchanged was wrapped in seals and silken cloth, treated as something to be handled carefully.

If the Demonic Sect wants it… it cannot be ignored.