Chapter 6 — The Scent of Steel and Smoke

The forest broke open.

Kael stood on a grassy ridge, a rough path beneath his feet. Beyond the trees, a thin mist clung to the early evening air. The sun, buried behind clouds, cast no warmth, only a pale golden hue that lit the horizon in a dying glow.

Below the ridge, nestled against a broken stone wall that had once been part of an ancient empire, was a settlement. Crude homes stacked of timber and shale. A leaning watchtower. Lanterns that flickered with cheap essence-fire. And noise—rough voices, trade, clashing iron.

A place where outcasts sold meat to fugitives and fugitives drank beside bounty hunters.

Kael descended the hill slowly.

His beast companion trailed behind him, cautious but alert.

A battered wooden sign marked the edge of the path:

> "Welcome to Hollow Thorn."

Kael's lips twitched faintly. "Not even pretending to be a real town."

He walked in.

---

Inside, the air was thick with smoke, iron, and distrust.

A few cultivators sat outside taverns sharpening blades. One wore a sect robe with the insignia torn off. Another wore no shirt at all, but Kael could see beast scars across his back. Everyone carried a weapon. Everyone glanced at strangers with measuring eyes.

Kael walked past them with quiet confidence, his aura withdrawn but steady. His dagger was hidden at his side beneath his robe, and his movements were calm.

But even calm drew attention.

A trio of youths leaning against a vendor's stall followed him with their eyes. One nudged the other. "New face."

"Dark aura," another whispered. "That's not a casual cultivator."

"He's young. Probably alone."

Kael ignored them.

He approached a wooden board nailed beside a tavern door. Dozens of wanted posters fluttered on it — each with drawings of killers, thieves, and rogue cultivators. Some had glowing seals burned into the paper, tracking sigils for high-value bounties.

Kael's eyes passed over them briefly.

One name stood out:

> "Jinlu the Heart-Eater — 130,000 gold. Last seen headed for the Land of Chaos."

That name again.

The Land of Chaos.

Whispers about it passed through the settlement like smoke. Dangerous. Lawless. But alive with opportunity.

Kael turned as a sharp voice rang out.

"You there. What are you?"

An older man in leather armor approached, flanked by two younger men. His breath reeked of spirit wine, but his eyes were clear. "Don't think I've seen your face before. You just drop out of the sky?"

Kael didn't answer.

The man narrowed his eyes. "That beast following you. Looks like a shadow-horn cub. Rare breed. You sellin'?"

Kael looked him in the eye. "No."

The younger one stepped forward, hand moving toward his waist. "Maybe you're too polite to bargain. Or maybe you're—"

Kael's hand moved faster.

In a flash, his dagger's edge was under the boy's chin. The tavern fell quiet. All eyes turned.

Kael's voice was low. Cold.

"I've killed three men in the last two days. Do you want to make it four?"

Silence.

The older man raised his hands, smiling tightly. "Easy, friend. No need for drama in a town like this."

Kael stepped back.

The blade disappeared beneath his robe.

---

That night, he found shelter in an abandoned shrine outside the main town. The beast curled beside him as the wind whistled through the broken windows. He sat cross-legged, eyes closed.

He wasn't safe.

But he wasn't weak.

And now, for the first time in his life, he had direction. Not one given to him by others.

His own.

Tomorrow, he would leave Hollow Thorn.