The wind felt crisp against the scorched leather of his cloak. Karma was almost at the civilized border when the inevitable happened.
Three figures detached from the flow of cultivators and dropped to the ground ahead of him. Their robes bore no sect emblems—a common sign of independent bandits or highly specialized mercenaries—and their smiles were too wide and too polished to be friendly.
The leader, a tall man with unsettling red eyes and a thin scar slashing across his mouth, executed a mock bow, dripping with false deference. "Quite the harvest you carry in your bag, traveler. Herbs, cores, spirit metals… that's a dangerously rare to acquire, for someone wandering the wilds alone."
Karma stopped instantly, the air around him dropping several degrees. "The road's wide. Walk around."
The scarred man's grin widened, showing too much teeth. "Oh, we will—after lightening your burden. You understand, this is a simple safety tax."
Two more appeared behind him: a woman with intricate golden tattoos coiling up her neck and a bulky cultivator whose aura burned heavy and hot, like smoldering coal. All three radiated the power of Core Formation, their collective killing intent sharp as shattered glass.
Their formation is tight. They are either highly coordinated bandits or off-duty mercenaries,Mira noted clinically. Also, subtlety check—you're about to paint the rocks red, aren't you?
"Probably," Karma murmured, his focus already locked on the leader.
The scarred man took another aggressive step forward. "Drop the bag and walk away."
Karma's hand rested on his sword hilt, his fingers tracing the cold metal. "You truly don't want this fight."
"Humor me," the leader challenged.
Fire and Lightning
The first strike came without warning—a spear of condensed flame hurled straight at Karma's chest, moving with punishing speed. He shifted barely an inch, the searing heat brushing his cloak, and in the same explosive motion, drew his blade.
"Storm Rend."
Lightning arced violently along the sword's edge. The bolt split the air with a shriek of displaced energy. The woman's defensive talisman instantly shattered; she screamed as the immense electrical discharge knocked her sprawling, convulsing in the dust.
The bulky cultivator roared in blind rage, summoning a massive war hammer wreathed in churning molten qi. He brought it down in a blow meant to flatten mountains and erase the landscape.
Karma caught the hammer barehanded.
The shock rippled savagely through the ground, cracking stone underfoot, but his Astral-Reforged Body held firm, converting the pure concussive energy into internal stress. He twisted his torso, redirected the crushing momentum, and slammed the bulky man sideways into a towering boulder. The resulting impact pulverized the rock into a deep crater, leaving the mercenary unconscious.
The scarred leader moved next, faster and more refined than the others. His sword flared a brilliant, malevolent red, carving a crescent of fire that sought to incinerate everything in its path.
Karma stepped directly into the flames, his eyes narrowing, the Black Lotus energy protecting him from the heat.
"Flame Breaker."
The fire shattered around him like fragile glass, scattered by a pulse of raw internal intent. He countered with a sudden, forceful thrust that carried the disruptive weight of thunder.
The scarred man blocked once, twice—then screamed a choked, guttural sound as the blade pierced through his hurried guard and sank deep into his shoulder. Lightning immediately exploded outward from the wound, hurling him back into the dirt, stunned and defeated.
The woman recovered enough to charge again, her golden tattoos blazing with desperate protective energy. Karma sidestepped, letting her wild momentum carry her past, then swept his leg in a lightning-fast movement. The kick broke her knee with a sharp crack; the follow-up strike ended the fight cleanly.
Only the leader remained, kneeling amid the wreckage of his pride and his team. He coughed blood onto the dust, his red eyes wide with dawning horror. "W-who are you?"
Karma wiped the blade clean on his singed cloak, the gesture cold and final. "Someone you shouldn't have stopped."
He sheathed the sword and turned away, leaving the mercenaries to their fate.
You didn't use Devour once in that exchange,Mira observed, a rare hint of approval in her voice.
"They weren't worth the internal effort," he replied. "I need to practice technique and control, not consumption."
Smart. You're learning that sometimes anonymity is greater power than an exploding battlefield.
"I prefer living to premature boasting."
He left the defeated bodies cooling under the rising sun and continued toward the city gates.
The Long Road Home
By the time the floating terraces of Veinspire came into view, his pack was heavy, bursting with rare herbs and cores. The air grew cleaner, filled with the steady, protective hum of the city's ancient arrays. Caravans lined the roads again—some returning bloodied, some laden with treasure, all carrying stories of fresh fortune and sudden death.
Karma walked past them unnoticed, another shadow on the road, his concealing cloak working perfectly.
Only once did he look back, toward the storm-wracked horizon where lightning still flickered faintly above the Corridor. His fingers gently brushed the satchel of herbs meant for Su Liana. Inside, the Silvernight Lotuses pulsed softly, alive and waiting.
Back to civilization. You sure you don't want to rest and stabilize for a day first?Mira asked.
"Not until she's safe."
Of course. One day, you'll admit that this is more than just duty, Host.
He smiled without answering. The massive city gates loomed ahead, shimmering with layered seals of light. Guards checked credentials, scanning for concealed qi.
He adjusted his cloak, hiding every trace of the thunder and flame that now pulsed within him, and joined the slow queue.
When he crossed the threshold, Veinspire's noise washed over him—bells, voices, laughter, the endless energy of trade. For a moment, he let it all flood his senses.
Behind him, the wilderness breathed.
Ahead, the city of a thousand veins awaited.
And somewhere within its opulent towers, a girl with silver hair was dreaming behind half-sealed eyes, her soul adrift in stormlight.
Karma's hand tightened around his satchel, the resolve in his core absolute.
"Time to wake her," he whispered.
Then let's begin.