At the Assassination Hall—
A woman clad in a sleek black dress sat silently upon her elevated seat. After returning from Frost Cloud Pavilion, she had summoned her elite operatives for a special task. Soon, three figures emerged from the shadows like ghosts.
These individuals were no ordinary killers—they were elite assassins, personally trained to execute mass killings with precision. Their combat prowess was terrifying, their speed unmatched. One among them had even stepped into the Nascent Soul stage. Though his foundation had just formed and his aura was still unstable, his presence alone was more than enough to overwhelm any Golden Core practitioner.
They knelt slightly before the black-robed woman. One of them stepped forward and asked,
"My lady, for what task have you summoned us?"
She replied with a faint smirk,
"Nothing too troublesome. Just eliminate a Golden Core cultivator."
"And if others are with the target?" he asked calmly.
"Kill them all. Bring back the target's head as proof," she said coldly.
"Yes, my lady. Who is the target?"
Without another word, she handed him an image stone.
"This contains your target's details—and their companions. Move quickly. The sooner, the better."
The assassins bowed once more and vanished into the shadows.
Moments later, a handsome figure entered the hall, his steps light and graceful. He held a traditional folding fan in his hand, and his appearance exuded a noble aura.
His body was lean yet well-built, sculpted like a seasoned warrior. At the center of his forehead was a unique symbol: a dragon and phoenix intertwined in ancient runes. He wore a black dragon robe with embroidered silver threads, a phoenix pendant hanging at his waist, and a coiled dragon bracelet clasped around his wrist. His eyes glowed dark red—like fresh blood under moonlight.
He approached the seated woman and spoke with a hint of curiosity,
"What kind of important task made you summon Nascent Soul-level killers, Ling'er?"
Without looking at him, she replied nonchalantly,
"Nothing special. Just a trivial matter."
She could already feel his burning gaze, thick with lust. Internally, Bai Ling'er scoffed in disdain, smirking at his obvious intentions.
He took a seat beside her and leaned forward slightly.
"By the way," he began, "I've already informed my mother to send a marriage proposal to your Bai Clan. We'll be getting married soon."
For the first time, Bai Ling'er's face flickered with emotion. Her calm eyes grew restless, but she quickly masked it and replied,
"That's something for the future. I don't think I'm worthy of your attention, Young Master Long."
Resting his chin on his palm, Long Tian smiled confidently.
"How could you not be worthy? The Bai Clan is an ancient lineage from the Upper Realm, with roots even in the Immortal Realm. If you're not worthy, then no one else is."
In his mind, however, he sneered—
"You little wild cat... Don't think I can't see through your games. Sooner or later, I'll tame you. If it weren't for that precious Bai Clan bloodline, I wouldn't give a damn about you or your crumbling clan."
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Scene Shift: Liang Village
In the quiet outskirts of Liang Village, a sinister energy crept in like fog.
The assassins, sent to investigate the deaths of their comrades, arrived at the location where Li Chen and Yu Qingci had previously engaged in battle with the two killers. Using the Bloodmoon Sect's secret tracking technique, they combed the area with eerie precision until faint traces of blood were discovered.
One of the assassins performed a dark ritual—a soul resurrection spell. The fragmented soul of the deceased killer emerged, writhing in agony. They absorbed the soul remnants using a forbidden technique. Though the memory transfer was incomplete, it was sufficient to capture lingering traces of auras belonging to those who had interacted with the fallen assassins.
Following the aura trail, they arrived at Li Chen's former home. To their surprise, the place was utterly abandoned. Not even a trace of human life remained. The house was as if scrubbed clean by time itself.
They questioned several local villagers. Most shrugged, saying they hadn't seen the residents for a few days. Suspicion deepened.
The assassins concluded that the entire household had already left—but not without a trail. Disappearing without a trace wasn't something ordinary cultivators could manage.
They spread through the village, questioning more people, but still found no solid leads. Eventually, one of the assassins came across a man who had seen unfamiliar figures visiting the home several days prior. They weren't fellow villagers, nor did they seem like ordinary guests.
Without hesitation, they seized the man and used the same soul extraction method, absorbing all his memories.
"Hmph, these mundane men… truly just mortals," one of the assassins scoffed, his voice cold and hollow.
Using the extracted memories, he conjured an illusionary painting—portraits of the unfamiliar individuals who had recently appeared in the village.
"Start tracking," he ordered. "Find them. Kill the target. And bring back the head."
Without a sound, the assassins vanished once more, shadows chasing shadows, as their hunt resumed with renewed fervor.