Soho moved through the narrow alleys, scanning the beggars and merchants as he searched for any sign of Linghui missing men. The city felt uneasy — too quiet, too watchful.
As he turned a corner, he suddenly noticed a group of man wearing Wudang Sect robes standing near a well. Their calm presence stood out from the chaos around them.
Soho approached carefully, clasping his fists in greeting. "I am from the Murim Alliance. May I speak with your superior?"
The Wudang disciples turned to look at him. One of them, a tall young man with a calm face and steady eyes, stepped forward and returned the gesture.
"I am Ye Chen of the Wudang Sect," he said politely. "You must be from the Alliance's investigation team?"
Soho's eyes lit with recognition. "Ye Chen… one of the Ten Heavens' disciples."
Ye Chen smiled faintly. "So you know of me. I suppose it's hard not to — the Ten Heavens' disciples have a reputation, for better or worse."
Soho nodded. "Of course. In Jianghu, everyone has heard of the Ten Heavens and their disciples. What brings someone like you to this city?"
Ye Chen's expression grew serious. "We received a message — someone claims to know the truth behind the disappearances. The City Lord asked the sect to investigate. We arrived a day earlier than planned to confirm the source."
Soho folded his arms thoughtfully. "Then it's true… someone is pulling strings behind all this."
Ye Chen glanced around the street, lowering his voice. "That's what we fear as well. The message came from someone inside this very city — but now, even that messenger has vanished."
The sun dipped low on the horizon, painting the streets of Xinyang City in shades of red and gold. Shadows stretched long across the stone roads, and the air carried a strange stillness — the kind that made even calm men uneasy.
Soho clasped his hands behind his back and bid farewell to Ye Chen before heading off to continue his search for Elder Linghui's missing men. As he ran through the winding alleys, his thoughts grew heavy.
Something isn't right, he thought. If someone is truly gathering every sect, clan, and even the Empire's agents in one place… what could they be planning?
He frowned deeply. If they intend to attack all of them, why here of all places? he wondered. And do they even have the strength to face so many powerful forces at once?
He stopped for a moment, staring at the darkening city streets. There are only two possibilities, he reasoned grimly. Either I'm overthinking it, and this is all coincidence... or someone is preparing to declare war against the entire world.
The last light of the sun vanished behind the fortress walls, and with it, the peace of the city seemed to fade as well.
After searching every corner of the city, they gathered again at the inn, exhausted and tense. The air was heavy with silence as they sat around the table.
Soho was the first to speak. "While searching, I ran into members of the Wudang Sect," he said. "They're also here investigating the disappearances."
Tian Hao nodded. "I saw mercenaries — and even warriors from different sects wandering around the city. Something big is happening."
Fahai added quietly, "I also saw soldiers wearing the Emperor's crest. Even the royal army has people here."
The group fell silent. Elder Linghui sat motionless for a long moment, his eyes distant and dim. The loss of his men cut deep — they were not just disciples, but brothers he had raised since childhood. He had watched them grow, trained them, laughed with them. And now… they were gone.
His chest ached, but his eyes felt numb — as if even grief itself had grown tired. For a brief moment, he didn't know what to do, how to move forward. But deep inside, a faint ember of resolve still burned. This was not the end. It couldn't be.
At last, he drew a slow breath, wiped the tear from his cheek, and spoke in a grave, steady voice.
"Write to your organizations," he said. "Tell them there's a high risk of an attack on this city. Ask for reinforcements immediately."
Soho frowned. "Even if we send word, it's unlikely they'll respond quickly. Every sect and clan already has their own people here. They'll probably believe their combined presence is enough — that no one would dare attack so many at once."
Hao's brow furrowed as a cold memory flashed through his mind — the woman with the scar in the tavern. "No…" he said quietly. "There is someone who might have that kind of power. That woman — I could feel it. She's not ordinary."
Soho turned to him sharply. "You mean the woman you mentioned before?"
Hao nodded. "Yes. Her aura alone was enough to make me tremble. If anyone can stand against all the sects and the Empire at once... it's her."
Soho's expression darkened. "Even if reinforcements are sent," he said grimly, "they won't arrive for at least two weeks. By then… it might already be too late."
Without wasting any more time, they prepared the message. Soho quickly wrote a detailed report describing everything they had seen — the disappearances, the growing number of powerful strangers, and the possibility of an attack on Xinyang City.
Once the ink dried, Elder Linghui whistled sharply, and several messenger birds descended from the rafters. He tied the sealed letters to their legs and whispered, "Fly fast… and don't get caught."
The birds took off into the darkening sky, their wings slicing through the cold evening air.
As they vanished into the distance, Soho exhaled slowly. "Now all we can do is wait," he said.
Tian Hao looked up at the clouds gathering over the city. "I just hope they reach in time," he murmured.
In the darkness of night, the messenger bird flew alone through the cold sky. Its wings cut silently across the wind as it carried the desperate warning toward the next city.
But after flying for some time, a distant tremor echoed through the clouds. then bird tilted its head — and what it saw below froze even its instincts.
Beneath the moonlight, hundreds… no, thousands of figures were moving through the valley, running straight toward Xinyang City.
Torches flickered like rivers of fire in the night. The sound of marching feet and clanging metal rolled across the plains like thunder.
An arrow suddenly whistled through the air — slicing the sky dangerously close to its wings. The bird shrieked and veered upward, flapping with all its might, climbing higher and higher until it disappeared into the clouds, carrying its message through the endless dark.
Above the clouds, the bird vanished into the night — the only witness to the storm marching toward Xinyang City.
And beneath that same sky, destiny had already begun to move.