The world tilted on its axis, or so it felt to me, when Jiang Yue's voice, usually a vibrant melody of adventurous cheer, suddenly cracked like a whip. One moment, the cabin of my flying boat was filled with her resonant laughter and her vibrant, almost tangible tales of tomb-raiding; the next, it was a crucible of sudden, inexplicable, heart-stopping dread. Big Sis Yue's eyes became wide, dilated, as she fixed upon some unseen danger lurking beyond the vessel's hull.

"Ruolan, hard northeast! Climb! Maximum speed!"

The command was a physical force, jolting us all.

Before I could even formulate a coherent question, before the insidious tendrils of a primal panic could fully coil around my heart and squeeze the air from my lungs, Yue was already a blur of focused motion.

"Little Li, if you have any life-saving defensive or escape artifacts, anything at all, now is the time to get them ready. Stay in here. And try not to die."

The words were a rushed, almost brutal command, an afterthought delivered as she and the City Lord, Zhang Wei—a man I was rapidly beginning to see as far more than just a quiet, provincial official—were gone. With a jarring clang, they kicked open the hatch and launched themselves into the screaming, chaotic wind, into the terrifying unknown that lay waiting.

No! Wait! What's happening? What did you see?

…

Fuck!

Words clawed desperately at the back of my throat, a silent, choked plea, but they were already swallowed, lost in the deafening roar of the wind and the protesting, shuddering groan of the vessel as it banked sharply, its propelling formations whining under the sudden strain.

How am I going to get out of this?

The thought was a shard of jagged ice driving deep into my gut.

An air ambush. It had to be!

And that meant cultivators, likely several of them, who could both fly and were powerful enough, terrifying enough, to make someone like Jiang Yue take them seriously.

Multiple Foundation Establishment level hostiles, at the very, very least.

My mind, a frantic, terrified abacus, clicked through my meager resources, my pitifully inadequate defenses. Could I bluff, perhaps? Could I spin desperate tales of powerful, hidden treasures? I certainly could have – but for one, very important detail: the very sources of that belief had just, literally, flown out the damn airlock!

And where did that leave me?

Lin Ruolan, her face a mask of pale, stark determination, wrestled with the controls, her knuckles white as she fought to give the vessel as much height and speed as possible. She was in the Qi Gathering stage, loyal, undeniably brave, but… what, in the name of all heavens, could she possibly do against even a single Foundation Establishment expert?

The System had long ago given me an intuitive, chilling understanding of my abilities: Qi Gathering cultivators, no matter how exceptional, could generally only manifest things, or create effects, that were useful at the Qi Gathering level.

In other words, we were ants before giants. Gnats trying to inconvenience a dragon.

I had talismans on me, yes – stacks of them, in fact. Flawlessly crafted and of the mid-grade level. Potent weapons in the rights hands, certainly.

The trouble was, ours weren't the "right hands" that could bring out their full potential. Mid-grade talismans were designed to be used at the Foundation Establishment stage. In our hands, they took precious, agonizing seconds to activate – far too long to be useful in an actual combat situation. I likely wouldn't even have time to prime one if a Foundation Establishment cultivator decided to simply tear this fragile ship apart with a casual wave of their hand.

One?

Maybe I could catch one opponent off guard, if I got incredibly lucky. If they became supremely arrogant and careless. But in ambushes like this, would there really be just one opponent?

I sincerely doubted it.

Panic, cold and cloying and thick as mud, threatened to drown me outright.

I couldn't breathe – the air hitching in my chest with a painful, ragged sound.

My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird, frantic and desperate.

Then, from the depths of my training, from the countless, grueling hours spent honing my craft as Leo, the actor—the discipline of embodying another, of controlling emotion, of finding stillness in chaos—a lifeline surfaced. It was followed by an almost instinctual knowledge of a martial breathing technique, one the System had manifested for me recently due to my escapades under the guise of "Shadow."

I closed my eyes, and focused inwards upon the rhythm.

In and out, a slow, deliberate cadence, each breath a tiny rebellion against the rising tide of terror.

Control.

I needed control.

My mind, though still racing, began to clear.

If escape was impossible, if fighting was tantamount to suicide, then the only logical option left – besides an outright surrender, of course – was to seek help.

Lin Ruolan, it seemed, had reached the same bleak conclusion – and was already ahead of me. A small, intricately carved communication talisman, emitting a faint, pulsating glow, was clutched in her trembling hand. Her voice, though strained and urgent, was clear as she spoke into it.

I caught desperate snippets – "...Fallen Star City Lord's office... ambush... vicinity of the Whispering Peaks... requesting immediate assistance..."

The reply, when it finally came through the crackling, static-laced interference, was a death knell to our fragile hopes. I didn't need to hear every word; Ruolan's crestfallen expression, the almost imperceptible slump of her shoulders, the dimming of the light in her eyes, told me enough. I pieced it together from her fragmented, whispered repetition.

Cultivator Bandits. Apparently, a rather frequent, intractable problem in the desolate, lawless stretches between cities out here in the Peripheral Regions. Fallen Star City's immediate response capability? Pathetically, laughably limited. They had two Mid-Foundation Establishment cultivators on call, and their hands were already full maintaining a semblance of order within the sprawling, chaotic city itself.

And what of the other organizations? The wealthy Myriad Treasures Pavilion, with its deep coffers, had some additional powerful experts. The local sects, the Celestial Iron and Azure Cloud – they were powerful, yes, with quite a few Foundation Establishment experts they could call. However, their standing agreements for mutual defense, their solemn pacts of law and order, were – as it turned out – conveniently confined to the City's limits.

Outside of Fallen Star City, out here in the wild, untamed territories between major settlements, we were largely, terrifyingly, on our own. Assembling a response team large enough to matter, to actually pose a threat to a coordinated group of Cultivator ambushers, would take time – precious, irreplaceable hours. And our vessel, even at its maximum, straining speed, was now a good two hours' flight away from the relative safety of Fallen Star City.

The attendant on the other end of the talisman, his voice tinged with what I imagined was a mixture of bureaucratic indifference and, perhaps, a sliver of genuine pity, offered empty platitudes, promised to "see what he could do," and wished Ruolan the best of luck. Empty words. Hollow gestures.

We were alone.

Utterly alone.

A cold, hard resolve, born of sheer desperation, settled over me, displacing the last vestiges of debilitating panic. I met Ruolan's wide, frightened eyes, seeing my own fear reflected there.

"Ruolan," I said, my voice surprisingly steady, cutting through the protesting groans of the straining vessel, "listen to me. We don't have much time."

My mind was a whirlwind, sifting through options, discarding them as quickly as they arose. I saw only one path, however narrow, however fraught with peril.

I fumbled in my robes, my fingers, clumsy with adrenaline, closing around a small, unassuming porcelain bottle. Inside were the "Qi pills" I'd "prepared" in the Qingshan's humble kitchen – little more than flour, water, and a carefully selected blend of common spices, rolled into convincing-looking spheres.

Mere props.

But now, they needed to be more. They had to become more.

"These," I said, holding out the bottle, my gaze intense, unwavering, "are a special kind of stealth pill. Extremely rare, a secret recipe of my family. Swallow one, and – for a minute or two – you'll become invisible. More importantly, your Qi signature will be completely suppressed. Erased to the outside world. Even Foundation Establishment senses will have a hard time detecting you unless someone knew where to look to begin with."

As I spoke, pouring every ounce of conviction I possessed into my words, I felt that familiar, subtle thrum from the System, a faint, almost imperceptible resonance deep within me. Ruolan's desperate hope, her desperate need to believe in something, anything, was a potent catalyst. The idea of the pills took root, and I felt the System's quiet ping as it delivered the manifestation. I promptly popped one of the pills into my robe's inner pocket – then pressed the rest of the bottle firmly into her trembling hand.

"Here," I continued, my mind racing, plans forming and reforming with dizzying speed, "also take this storage ring."

I slipped one of the unsold "stealth" storage rings from my finger, then gently tapped it against my bracelet, transferring the contents. "There are now twelve of each kind of mid-grade talisman inside – offensive, defensive, movement, and even a few exorcism talismans, just in case. And… a thousand mid-grade spirit stones. Enough to get you started on assembling a rescue team, to hire whatever help is needed."

My instructions were clipped, precise, leaving no room for argument.

"Swallow the pill. Then jump. Don't hesitate. As soon as you're clear of the ship, trigger a movement talisman for a few seconds of flight, or maybe a defensive one right before you hit the ground. Use the terrain for cover, then leg it towards Fallen Star City as fast as your cultivation will allow. Don't look back. Don't stop for anything. If you don't hear from us, from me, within a day, get word to the Jiang main family. Tell them everything. Or… if you think you are up for it, contact the Pavillion and use the resources in that ring to hire a proper response team. I'll try to lead this ship, and whoever is chasing it, away in a different direction, buy you some time to escape."

Tears welled in Ruolan's eyes, spilling down her pale cheeks.

"Young Master! I cannot! My duty, my oath, is to protect you!"

Her voice was choked with emotion, with a loyalty that was both admirable and, in this moment, dangerously impractical.

"Don't be stupid, Ruolan!" I snapped at her, my voice was harsh, a calculated, brutal cruelty designed to break through her loyalty-fueled denial, to force her to see the grim reality of our situation.

"You'll be of no help here with your current cultivation! Qi Gathering cultivators are like ants before the Foundation Establishment realm! We both know this! You'll die here – for nothing, a meaningless sacrifice! Your best chance to help me, to help us, is to escape, to get word out, and then come back with sufficient muscle. That is your duty now. Do you understand me?"

Her face crumpled, the fight going out of her. A flicker of horrified understanding, of grim, reluctant acceptance, dawned in her eyes. She nodded – a jerky, convulsive movement. Quickly, mechanically, she put on the storage ring, and took out a pill while storing the bottle inside. She grabbed the mid-grade spirit sword from where it lay beside her seat, storing it in the ring as well.

"Now!" I barked, my own heart a leaden weight in my chest. Without another word, Lin Ruolan swallowed the pill, her throat working convulsively. She took a deep, shuddering breath, and with a last, tearful, despairing glance at me, she opened the back of the ship and flung herself out into the raging maelstrom.

Gone.

Vanished into the howling wind and a slow, drizzling rain that had begun to fall.

Just a few seconds later – but an eternity, it seemed, in my current situation – a figure materialized in the gaping doorway with a burst of emerald light; floating casually against the turbulent, bruised sky before stepping inside. He was tall, cloaked in oppressive black clothing and wearing a black half-mask that covered his face from the nose upwards. I could feel an aura of palpable, suffocating power radiating from him – Late Foundation Establishment, no doubt about it. The very air in the cabin grew heavy, oppressive, making it difficult to breathe.

"Why, it's so nice of you to have the door opened for me," a voice, distorted and raspy from behind a dark, featureless mask, grated with chilling, predatory amusement. "It would have been a shame to needlessly damage such a fine, luxurious vessel. Young Master Jiang, I presume? Take us down. Gently, if you please."

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat of terror. My meager cultivation was nothing before this kind of power. Resistance was not just suicidal; it was an invitation to a far more painful death.

With hands that trembled so violently I could barely control them, I guided the vessel towards the ground, landing with a jarring, bone-rattling thud in a small, rocky, inhospitable clearing.

"I… have a storage ring," I said, my voice surprisingly calm, almost detached, the actor in me, the part that had faced down far more metaphorical demons on stage, taking over. "One thousand two hundred mid-grade spirit stones, the proceeds from the auction after commission fees. It's yours, of course. All of it. Just let me and my friends go. Please."

I held out another unsold silver storage ring – one of the many I'd acquired, kept for just such… well, not for this, but for transactions. The bandit leader chuckled, a dry, grating, humorless sound that scraped against my nerves.

The system pinged in my mind.

[Attempted manifestation detected]

[Warning! Current belief levels insufficient. Use stored belief to compensate?]

Y/N

…

I stared at the screen in front of me in incomprehension.

Fuck, what is this now? Yes, damn you! Yes!

…

[Acknowledged. Initializing shop protocols.]

[Belief Meter: -86,897]

[Manifestation Initiated]

"But, of course it is!" my captor stated calmly, entirely oblivious to the inner roller-coaster of emotions I was experiencing.

"Everything you possess, Young Master Jiang, is indeed now mine. But sure, give it here." He used spiritual power to snatch the ring from my outstretched hand with contemptuous ease.

After a few tense seconds – during which he undoubtedly inspected the ring's contents – he finally grunted in satisfaction.

"HA! So THIS is one of those newfangled "stealth" storage rings of yours, eh? Oh my, how fancy!"

He put on the ring with a dismissive air, then gestured with his chin for me to exit the vessel. Once we were outside in the chilly, damp afternoon air, he casually waved his hand, and the flying boat shrank with a soft, deflating whoosh, becoming a palm-sized, intricate trinket, which he also stored away with a flourish.

"You'll… let us all go now, right?" I asked, injecting a hopeful, desperate tremor into my voice, playing the part of the terrified, wealthy young master to perfection. His masked face turned towards me, and, even without seeing all of his face, I could feel the predatory amusement, the cruel calculation, in his gaze.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"Now, why would I go and do something as foolish as that? You're clearly favored by your family, Young Master Jiang – all this wealth. All of these… unique treasures. I'm sure we can work out a very… amicable ransom payment for your safe return."

If only you knew how little the main Jiang family truly valued this particular 'Young Master,' I thought with a surge of grim, internal bitterness. You'd probably get more by trying to ransom a stray dog.

"But, I do like your cooperative attitude so far," he continued, his voice like silk sliding over steel. "Cooperate further, and we won't even have to hurt you! Much."

Suddenly, his head snapped up, his entire posture radiating shock, then an intense, almost predatory seriousness. I followed his gaze, my own heart lurching.

A couple of li or so away from us, an absolutely colossal, impossible pillar of blood-red tinged Qi erupted into the sky. It felt so vast, so potent, so utterly terrifying in its raw, untamed fury, that even I – a mere Qi Gathering cultivator – could not only sense its terrifying pressure washing over the landscape like a physical wave but also actually see its angry, pulsating crimson glow against the darkening, storm-wracked sky. It felt… horribly familiar to me. Vaguely like City Lord Zhang Wei's Qi, but somehow amplified a thousandfold, twisted and warped into something monstrous. Something utterly inhuman. What in the nine hells? I thought, bewildered, a new kind of fear gripping me. Was he secretly a Golden Core expert or something? What am I missing here?

I didn't get to finish the thought.

An iron grip, strong as forged steel, clamped around my waist, another hand seizing the back of my neck with brutal efficiency – to prevent whiplash, possibly, the cold, professional courtesy of an experienced kidnapper.

The world dissolved into a nauseating, high-speed blur of wind, rain, and distorted emerald colors as the bandit leader, with me as his unwilling passenger, shot towards the crimson, apocalyptic commotion.

We materialized in the air, the transition so abrupt it left me gasping, and the scene that greeted my horrified eyes almost made me lose the meager contents of my stomach.

Carnage.

Absolute, unadulterated, stomach-churning carnage.

Below us, Jiang Yue lay on the hard, unforgiving ground, bound by a grotesque, glowing golden chain, her face as pale as death, her clothes torn and bloodied, looking like she'd been through hell itself and dragged back.

And all around her… around her was a butcher's yard.

There had clearly used to be five bandit guards in the area.

One was now a flattened, unrecognizable, bloody puddle, as if he was stepped on by some colossal, enraged beast.

Another… was torn in half.

Lengthwise.

And the Honorable City Lord Zhang Wei, consumed by a berserk fury, his entire body radiating a terrifying, pulsating crimson aura, was currently – unbelievably – using those two gory, severed halves as improvised clubs, systematically beating a third bandit into the unforgiving, muddy, increasingly cratered earth.

Said bandit on the ground wasn't putting up much of a fight. He looked more like a sack of broken bones and pulped flesh, any possible screams apparently long since silenced.

The two remaining bandits, their faces pale with abject terror even beneath their masks, had put some distance between themselves and the demonic figure of Zhang Wei, and were desperately, futilely, attempting to pelt him with a barrage of elemental attacks – all of which fizzled out harmlessly, contemptuously, against his pulsating, impenetrable crimson aura.

The bandit leader holding me muttered something guttural under his breath, a sound of pure, unadulterated exasperation. "These incompetent fools… can't leave them alone for a single minute, I swear to the uncaring Heavens." Then, his voice, amplified by Qi, boomed like thunder across the ravaged battlefield.

"EVERYONE STOP! NOW! Or the little Jiang heir here gets it!"

Zhang Wei, who had been in the process of bringing a chunk of bloody, dripping torso down for another bone-shattering, flesh-rending blow, froze mid-swing, the movement unnervingly jerky. He looked up, his eyes glowing with that same terrifying crimson light, unfocused, feral, like a beast interrupted at its kill.

"That's right," the bandit leader said, his voice oozing a false, strained calm, clearly somewhat unnerved by the display of utter savagery.

"Nice and easy there, City Lord. Let's all just calm down and…"

He didn't get to finish his sentence.

My world, already teetering on the very brink of sanity, suddenly went into an impossible, exhilarating overdrive. Everything seemed to slow down to a crawl. Sounds became muted, distant, and a peculiar.

An almost crystalline clarity descended upon my thoughts.

[Remote Qualified Belief Detected.]

[Source: Wei Long (Peak Golden Core, BQT 11 Met!)]

[Source: Eighth Princess Long Xueyue (Peak Foundation Establishment, BQT 11 Met!)]

The familiar, cool hum of the System resonated within the deepest core of my being, stronger, more vibrant, more potent than ever before. It was like a symphony orchestra tuning up in my soul.

[Analyzing Belief….]

…

[Thresholds Met! Manifestation Initiated!]

[National Reputation Update: -> Enigmatic, Monstrous Genius (Vast Resources)]

[Attributes Updated:

Cultivation Qi Gathering Stage 5 -> Stage 9 (Peak)

Skill Updated: Talisman Crafting (Unique Sealing Method – Grandmaster -> 9th Level Grandmaster)

New Skill Manifested: Aura Concealment – (Unique Method – Saint)]

…

A tidal wave of unfathomable knowledge and raw, untamed power – pure and unbelievably potent – surged through me in less than the blink of an eye. My meridians, usually accustomed to a modest, carefully managed trickle of Qi, felt like they were suddenly trying to contain a raging, celestial river, a comparative ocean of energy. It was an intoxicating, terrifying, utterly overwhelming sensation. My body thrummed, vibrated, and sang with this newfound strength.

This spelled bad news for my would-be captor.

Qi Gathering novices, it is said, are naught but ants before Foundation Establishment experts.

That is largely true.

But here's the thing about ants: it's difficult to step on an ant without crushing it.

The bandit leader was precisely controlling his power, his grip carefully calibrated to restrain – but not injure – a mere fifth-layer Qi Gathering cultivator. What he wasn't doing, what he couldn't possibly have anticipated in his wildest nightmares, was suddenly having to modulate his power to hold a peak ninth-layer Qi Gathering cultivator. In less than an instant, the bandit leader was suddenly holding someone who, impossibly, possessed over twenty times the physical and Qi-based strength of his previous quarry. A quarry who somehow – impossibly – skipped through four of the most difficult minor layers of the Qi Gathering stage in a single, silent, earth-shattering instant.

The bandit leader was caught utterly by surprise.

My body moved decisively before my mind could fully process the cataclysmic change. With a surge of newfound, explosive strength, I momentarily broke his hold: his iron grip – designed to carefully contain the old me, now feeling like brittle twigs. Simultaneously, my spiritual power, now sharper, faster, and more incisive than I could have ever imagined, dove into my storage bracelet and retrieved the Jade Box – the one containing the "legendary" fifty-thousand-year-old Nine Nether Snow Lotus. There was no time for finesse, no room for subtlety.

I smashed the intricately carved Jade Box against my own chest. The instant the delicate jade container shattered, an eruption of pure, concentrated Frost Qi – cold and potent beyond imagination – exploded outwards.

It was a visible, violent shockwave of swirling white mist and glittering, razor-sharp ice crystals, a cataclysmic commotion that dwarfed even the crimson, pseudo-demonic spectacle Zhang Wei had unleashed. I absently thought, with some detached, rational part of my mind, that, even with my allegedly amazing Yin-Frost constitution, I probably would have been flash-frozen into a human popsicle had I still been in the fifth stage. Such was the absolute, terrifying power I could feel radiating from the ancient, mythical lotus fruit in my hand.

The bandit leader, I could tell from the way his aura spasmed in violent protest, was decidedly not frost-attuned.

Quite the opposite, in fact.

And, suddenly being blasted with so much undiluted, primordial Frost Qi at point-blank range – while he was in the middle of a speech, no less – was the last thing he, or anyone, would have expected. He was stunned, disoriented, the layers of his own protective Qi flickering wildly, threatening to collapse.

Reflexively, he gasped – a choked, surprised, gurgling sound.

That was his final mistake.

My hand instantly shot out in a blur of motion, my now preternaturally fast reflexes showing their worth. I brutally shoved the entire Nine Nether Snow Lotus – fruit, stem, delicate, ice-rimmed petals, and all – directly into his open, gasping mouth!

Before he could react, before he could even comprehend the sheer audacity of what was happening, I brought my other hand up in a vicious, devastating uppercut, smashing his chin shut with every ounce of strength my newly-empowered Peak Qi Gathering physique could muster. I felt the crunch as his teeth crushed the potent frost treasure within his mouth: a sickening, satisfying sound.

Almost immediately, we plummeted towards the ground, locked in a macabre, frozen embrace. Through the swirling blizzard all around us, I saw his eyes widen with unimaginable, absolute horror behind his mask – a brief, fleeting reaction from a soul staring into the abyss – before his entire body, from head to toe, flash-froze into a grotesque, contorted icicle mid-air.

Said icicle then began to rapidly crack, fissures spreading across its crystalline surface like a malevolent spiderweb, before it simply… disintegrated, shattering into a million glittering, frozen fragments that scattered upon the howling wind, leaving nothing behind but a faint, lingering chill and the vague smell of lotus-filled snow, tinged with a hint of iron.

Just before I would have impacted the unforgiving, frozen earth, I focused once again upon my storage – and retrieved a movement talisman.

With a surge of my new, potent Qi, it activated instantly, and a cushion of swirling wind arrested my fall, allowing me to hover, then slowly, gracefully ascend.

I was amazed.

These talismans were made for the Foundation Establishment realm. Properly controlling them should have been extremely difficult at the Qi Gathering stage, requiring significant concentration. But now… now I felt an incredible, profound familiarity with the intricate, flowing Seals inscribed upon my talismans, as if I had drawn them myself – and countless times at that! I felt, with a dawning, thrilling, certainty, that I could probably now control upwards of a dozen such talismans simultaneously.

A sinister, deeply satisfying grin spread over my face.

These fuckers think they can push me around? Let them witness the true power of the legendary Young Master Jiang Li.

I flew upwards, rapidly ascending like a vengeful god, and, with a mere thought, a dozen assorted offensive talismans – representing sealed fire like raging suns; crushing boulders of condensed earth; shimmering, whistling blades of phantom metal; and entangling, thorny vines of verdant wood – materialized from my storage, hovering obediently behind me like a deadly, glowing, multi-hued halo of destructive power. I saw Zhang Wei, still radiating a crimson – but rapidly fading – aura, locked in a desperate, losing combat with the two remaining bandits. He was much slower now, his movements becoming sluggish, less frenetic, and, as I watched, he stumbled heavily and coughed up a gout of dark, viscous blood. The two bandits, sensing his weakness, their earlier terror giving way to opportunism, began to press their advantage, their attacks becoming bolder.

They didn't get the chance.

"Payback's a bitch, you bastards," I muttered, the words tasting like vengeance on my tongue.

With a contemptuous wave of my hand, I sent the barrage of high-speed, Foundation-Establishment-level attacks hurtling towards them in a terrifying symphony of elemental destruction. They looked up at me, their masked faces reflecting pure shock.

One of them, reacting with desperate, animalistic speed, managed to dodge – if barely – a gout of incinerating flame and an earth spike that would have almost certainly impaled him.

The other… well, the other wasn't so lucky. He was caught in the epicenter of my storm, and for a horrifying, yet – strangely – deeply satisfying moment, I watched as he was graphically, comprehensively shredded by attacks from all five elements: his screams cut short as his body was rendered – limb from limb, cell from cell – into a fine, bloody mist.

Nodding in approval, I calmly materialized more talismans, another dozen floating into formation behind me, their power thrumming in the air, ready to deal with the horrified survivor – who was now attempting to fly away.

But, before I could unleash a second, even more devastating volley, the last bandit suddenly cried out in a high-pitched shriek of agony, as an blade of pure, concentrated metal qi pierced him from behind. He spasmed violently, then dropped from the sky, bisected horizontally at the waist. His upper torso fell one way while his legs crumpled in another, some of his guts spilling onto the ravaged, blood-soaked ground with a wet, sickening plop.

Lin Ruolan shimmered into existence a short distance away, a smoking offensive talisman clutched in her hand, her face pale from the effort of activation – but set with a grim determination.

Huh.

The flour-ball stealth pills had worked better than I could have hoped. I landed beside her, quickly withdrawing the dozen talismans still orbiting me like silent, deadly sentinels.

"Why are you so insubordinate, Ruolan?" I asked, though a hint of a smile, the first in what felt like an eternity, tugged at my lips. She was loyal, this one. Foolishly, wonderfully brave.

"I might have to punish you for that, you know."

She actually managed a small, tired, yet radiant smile back.

"Yes, Master!"

"Alright," I said, my brief amusement fading as the grim reality of the situation reasserted itself. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, leaving a hollow ache in its wake.

"Call back the Fallen Star City Lord's office. Tell them the threat has been… handled. By Me, personally. No need to trouble them to intervene. Then, gather up whatever storage rings or useful items these bandits might have had. Do be thorough – we've earned it."

As she moved to comply, I turned my attention to the others. City Lord Zhang Wei was unconscious, his crimson aura completely faded, leaving him looking pale, shrunken, and alarmingly weak. To my newly more-sensitive Ninth-Stage senses, his Qi felt chaotic, dangerously depleted, like a guttering candle about to be extinguished.

What in the world did you do to yourself, you crazy old fool?

I knelt beside him and retrieved one of the healing pills I'd "manifested" during the auction – ones I'd boasted were superior to anything on offer. It was, according to the System, a decent lower mid-grade Pure Yang healing pill. This, I figured, should at least keep him from dying, though I doubted it would do anything for the damage he'd clearly inflicted upon his own cultivation base and lifespan. That, I thought grimly, would be a problem for another day.

I gently eased the healing pill into his mouth, verifying that he fell into a stable, healing sleep.

Then, I checked on Jiang Yue. She was still conscious, if barely, her eyes glazed with pain and shock. The golden chain still bound her cruelly, digging into her flesh, and her broken shoulder… there were visible bone shards sickeningly tenting the skin. A fresh wave of cold, hard, murderous anger washed over me at the sight.

She was semi-delirious, mumbling incoherently, her body trembling.

"Yue," I said softly, my voice surprisingly gentle as I knelt beside her, carefully touching her uninjured arm. "Big Sis Yue, can you hear me?"

With a visible, agonizing effort of will, her countenance seemed to clear, just a fraction, her eyes struggling to focus on me.

"Little… Little Li…?" she whispered, her voice raspy, weak. "Did we… did we win?"

"Yes, Big Sis," I said, my voice gentle despite the inferno of rage simmering within me. "We won. They're all gone." She mumbled something then, disjointed, pain-filled phrases about them going to kill her… about Zhang Wei…

"He took it… the… Crimson Phoenix… to stop them… go… help Zhang…" Her concern, even in this state, was for others. She truly was a treasure unfit for this brutal world.

"Don't worry about him right now," I said, trying to sound reassuring, trying to project a calm I didn't entirely feel. "I fed him a healing pill. He'll be alright, I promise. We need to take care of you for now."

I held up another of the auction-manifested healing pills.

"Yue, I need your attention for a second. Focus. Look here. This is an upper-midgrade Pure Yang pill," I told her, my voice firm, projecting utter, unshakable confidence, willing her to believe, needing the System to respond. "It will set the bones in your shoulder, then heal you right up completely. No scarring, not even a twinge of pain afterwards. You'll be fine after you take it. Do you understand?"

She managed a weak, trusting nod.

As she did, I felt the System hum again, a subtle but definite pulse of energy.

[Qualified Belief Detected]

[Belief Source: Jiang Yue (Mid-Foundation Establishment); BQT Level 7 Met!]

[Manifestation Initiated]

[Item Enhancement: Pure Yang Healing Pill Mid-Grade (Low Tier) -> Mid-Grade (Upper Tier).]

Good.

Very good.

I carefully placed the now significantly more potent pill in her mouth. The effects were almost instantaneous, and far more dramatic than with Zhang Wei. A warm, golden glow enveloped her shoulder, the gruesome sight of protruding bone receding as the flesh mended with visible, miraculous speed. Her breathing eased, the lines of pain on her face softened, and, a moment later, she herself slumped into a deep, healing sleep, her expression finally peaceful. The pill, I noted with a clinical detachment, seemed to use a lot of the host's own energy reserves to fuel its potent, accelerated healing effects. Not an uncommon occurrence with certain alchemical remedies.

I took a few moments to find the control seals for on the outside of the chain artifact restraining Yue -- an apparently trivial task for my new 9th Level Talisman Grandmaster knowledge base -- and deactivated it, putting it away for later study.

With Big Sis Yue and Zhang Wei stable and safe – for now – I stood and surveyed the bloody, blizzard-swept clearing. My earlier elation at my newfound power, and the intoxicating rush of victory, was rapidly being replaced by a cold, hard, calculating fury.

I was angry.

So incredibly angry.

Angry at myself for being far too careless, far too naïve; for underestimating the ever-present dangers of this brutal world.

Angry at this world itself, for being such a savage, merciless, dog-eat-dog piece of shit place where strength was the only currency that truly mattered, where compassion was a weakness to be exploited.

Angry – with a burning, visceral hatred – at these bandits, these predators, these human vermin, who had dared to attack the closest things to friends and family I possessed in this hostile new world.

Oh, but you can do something about it, a cold, clear voice whispered in the deepest recesses of my mind, a voice that sounded chillingly like my own – yet harder. Sharper. Don't you see? The System… it's an overwhelming, almost obscene advantage! If used correctly. If wielded without hesitation. And you have been far too conservative with its use. Far too reliant on subtle manipulations, on half-measures.

On luck.

But you don't truly need any of those things, do you? Not when you have the System on your side.

That was right. I lacked ruthlessness. True, unadulterated, unapologetic ruthlessness. The kind of viciousness this world seemed to demand not just for survival, but for thriving, for protecting those few you cared about from the wolves.

That would have to change.

That had to change.

Starting right now.

Very well, I decided, a chilling, irrevocable resolve settling deep into my bones, into my very soul.

I will show this world, these people, what true ruthlessness looks like. I'll develop such a reputation that no one will even think of messing with me, or with anyone under my protection, ever again.

My gaze fell upon the bandit Ruolan had so efficiently bisected. His upper half, unbelievably, was still feebly trying to crawl away, leaving a gruesome, bloody trail of viscera in the mud -- like some kind of grotesque parody of a snail.

Resilient bastards, these Foundation Establishment-level cultivators, I had to give them that.

I walked over to him, my steps measured, deliberate. With a flick of my wrist, a fresh fire talisman appeared and ignited – and I casually, almost disinterestedly, used a flamethrower-like gout of flame to cauterize his horrific, gaping wounds, stopping the bleeding. His scream was high-pitched, thin, animalistic, a sound that would have once turned my stomach -- but now barely registered.

I tsk-ed quietly at his lack of appreciation for my assistance.

"Hello there," I said, my voice light, almost cheerful, a stark, terrifying contrast to the carnage around us. I channeled every unhinged, charismatic villain I'd ever played as Leo, every chillingly calm psychopath from those true crime documentaries I used to binge-watch. My smile was wide, fixed, and didn't reach my eyes, which felt as cold and hard as chips of obsidian.

"My name is Jiang Li." The bandit's eyes, wide with a mixture of agony and abject terror, fixed on me.

"I… P-please… mercy… I'll tell you everything I know… everything…" he stammered, his body trembling uncontrollably, his voice a pathetic, gurgling plea.

"Yes," I said, nodding pleasantly, with a hint of mock empathy. "I know you will. But here's the thing: unless someone hired you to do this … I don't particularly care about what you know."

His eyes widened, a spark of horrified, dawning comprehension igniting within its depths. He started to babble: promises, pleas, anything.

I ignored him, while continuing the performance.

"You see," I casually remarked, crouching down beside him, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial, almost intimate whisper that was – probably – even more terrifying to him than a shout, "we are going to have a little conversation, you and I. A very… enlightening conversation. And by the end of it, you will believe everything I tell you. Every single word."

I slowly pulled out a wicked-looking, keen-edged spirit beast skinning knife I'd acquired at some point, its polished, gleaming surface reflecting the bandit's terrified, contorted face. I held it up, admiring its deadly edge in the dim, stormy light, and then, with a deliberate, theatrical slowness that was pure performance art, I slowly licked the cool, sharp steel of the blade.

The bandit visibly paled, a choked, strangled gurgle escaping his lips as he stared, mesmerized by the glint of the knife.

"I guarantee it," I said, my smile stretching even wider.

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