Chapter 151: Leaving Oakwood City
The late morning sun hung high in the sky, casting a warm golden sheen across the land. A soft breeze swept across the road, carrying with it the scent of dust, horses, and distant pine. The clamor of city life slowly faded behind the stone walls of Oakwood City, replaced by the rhythmic clopping of hooves and the low murmur of travelers on the move.
Outside the city gates, a handful of people made their way out—merchants guiding laden carts flanked by hired guards in patched armor, and common folk in worn clothes with cautious hope in their eyes, leaving behind the familiar in search of better fortune.
Trailing behind the small group was a lone rider atop a sleek white horse with a silvery mane and storm-gray eyes. The horse's movements were calm and graceful, its pace steady and confident—as though mirroring the bearing of its rider.
Clad in flowing azure robes with a black cloak draped over his shoulders, the rider's face was partially concealed by a cloth mask drawn from nose to chin. But his eyes—piercing golden irises that shimmered like molten metal—burned with quiet, focused resolve. His long black hair streamed behind him like dark silk caught in the wind. Though silent and distant, his very presence carried an air of quiet command and unfathomable depth—unapproachable, detached, yet unforgettable.
Su Tianhao.
After escaping Su Liang's pursuit, he had wasted no time securing a horse and acquiring a modest disguise before departing. Though the Phantom Cloak could suppress his presence entirely, it was impractical in open spaces and would only draw attention if he appeared mid-road yet without any physical presence. He had reverted to the first form—Silent Pulse—concealing his cultivation base while allowing his presence to remain imposing and unfathomable.
In the world of cultivation, appearing too ordinary could sometimes invite the wrong kind of danger.
As the white horse trotted steadily along the dirt road, the world around him seemed to quiet. The clatter of carts and fading bustle of city life fell further behind, swallowed by the wind. Rolling hills stretched out ahead, dotted with distant trees swaying gently in the breeze.
Su Tianhao sat tall in the saddle—one hand loosely on the reins, the other resting on Shadowfang at his waist. His golden eyes looked forward, but his mind wandered back.
'It's over... Su Liang. Ye Shiming. The chaos, the suspicion, the infighting. For now, it's all behind me.'
But peace didn't come easily. Though his body moved further from Oakwood, pieces of the past clung like mist. Faces drifted through his mind—Xie Ling's tearful farewell, the silent gratitude of the gate guards, Su Lei's reluctant goodbye, Master Huan's stunned expression when given the technique scroll. And Su Yuan—that gentle, loyal light in the darkness.
'I did what I could for them.'
A breeze swept across the road, lifting the edge of his cloak. His long hair fluttered behind him—a quiet banner that no longer represented a house, but a man.
'This path is mine now.'
He closed his eyes briefly, listening to the rhythm of hooves on dirt. It reminded him of a time years ago when he stood near the city gates as a child, watching travelers leave Oakwood and wondering what lay beyond the horizon.
Now, he no longer wondered. He rode toward it.
And this time—he would write his own legend.
'Mom, Dad, wherever you are in the Immortal Realm, your son is finally making his way toward the unknown... So that one day I might surpass your legacy!'
As those thoughts settled, his expression turned deadly serious. His parents were not nobodies.
His father was an all-powerful tyrant who had descended from the Immortal Realm—the genius young master of the Heavenly Devouring Dragon Clan, a Supreme Dragon Immortal cast down to the mortal realm to endure punishment for a hundred years. Instead, he had dominated the world, united the four continents under his reign, and renamed the entire world after his own identity.
The Supreme Dragon Martial World.
His mother's identity was equally staggering. The daughter of the Saint Emperor—sole ruler of the legendary Holy Central Continent—she was not merely an untouchable princess of flawless beauty. She was a peerless genius with a heavenly constitution connected to the power of the moon itself. Her mastery of the sword dao was unrivaled across the entire Holy Central Continent, and her talent for alchemy was equally extraordinary. A perfect all-rounder whom many admired even to this day.
Both had long since ascended to the Immortal Realm, but the legacy they had carved in the mortal world remained unshakable. To seek to surpass them was no different from attempting the impossible.
But Su Tianhao, who had received their memories and their inheritance, was not afraid of the impossible.
'If I must achieve my goals, then it's time to stop dwelling on the past and focus on the future.'
His eyes narrowed.
'The Qingyun Sect examination is only five weeks away. I need to secure the resources for the Supreme Dragon Vein Awakening Art as soon as possible.'
He was already strong—strong enough to pass the exam with certainty. But certainty wasn't satisfaction.
'I might be powerful compared to the young talents of Oakwood City. But in the broader world of Longzhou Country... I am nowhere near good enough.'
His grip tightened on the reins.
"Neigh!"
The white horse let out a sharp cry, its pace quickening—as if moved by his resolve.
'Cloudrise City,' Su Tianhao murmured, golden eyes fixed on the distant horizon.
Cloudrise City was a prosperous cultivation hub nestled at the foot of the Mistveil Mountains where the Qingyun Sect was located. It served as a major waypoint for young cultivators seeking entry into the sect—known for its sprawling auction houses, high-grade cultivation markets, and sect-affiliated inns. Its skies were often veiled in drifting clouds, giving the city its name and a sense of mystery that never faded.
'As long as I reach Cloudrise City, securing the resources I need won't be a problem.'
With that settled, he turned his full focus to the road ahead, urging the horse into a steady gallop.
---
Time passed quickly. Before long, Su Tianhao was already halfway through his journey. The other travelers and merchants who had departed Oakwood City along the same road had long since split off toward their own destinations, leaving him alone on the now desolate path—dust drifting across the road, green grass lining both sides in long, quiet stretches.
Grrrr.
A low growl broke the silence. Su Tianhao's brows furrowed—then relaxed as he recognized the source.
Himself.
The midday sun now hung at its peak, its warmth pressing down on the land with full force.
He chuckled quietly. "Good thing I prepared for this."
With a single thought, he retrieved a small bag from his silver spatial ring—snacks packed for the journey. He slowed the horse to a comfortable pace and began eating, one hand still on the reins.
"Neigh."
The white horse let out a low sound, its head turning slightly toward him.
"Can't watch others eat, huh?" Su Tianhao said with a playful smile, reaching back to hand-feed the horse a red apple.
The horse raised its head and crushed the fruit in one clean bite.
Su Tianhao's smile widened. Then his eyes caught something ahead.
A carriage. Not far off, moving in the same direction. Escorted by two horsemen on majestic mounts and flanked by a dozen or so cultivators arranged in a precise formation before and behind it. The carriage itself practically announced wealth—its design refined and deliberate.
Su Tianhao glanced at it briefly and looked away. He was on his own path and had no interest in whoever traveled in that carriage.
But as time passed and the road continued, it became clear they were heading the same way.
'Looks like they're going to Cloudrise City too,' he noted. 'Could be someone preparing for the Qingyun Sect examination. Or a business expedition.'
He shrugged inwardly. 'Either way, it's not my concern.'
Then—
BOOM!
A thunderous sound split the air from somewhere ahead—sharp, sudden, and unmistakable.
Su Tianhao's eyes sharpened immediately.
'That came from the carriage. They're being attacked.'
As if confirming his suspicion, several black-clad figures emerged from the roadside bushes—seven in total, moving with synchronized precision. Each was cloaked from head to toe in dark, form-fitting attire that seemed to absorb the light around them. Their faces were hidden behind dark cloth masks marked only by a single silver blade symbol on the forehead.
'Phantoms.'
Su Tianhao's eyes widen, pupils constricted to pinpoints. "Never thought I would meet them so soon."
Phantoms—Members of the Phantom Blade Faction—one of the most secretive and feared organizations in the Longzhou Country. Unlike common bandits or mercenaries, Phantoms were elite operatives trained in specialized concealment techniques, assassination arts, and shadow-step movement methods that made them nearly impossible to track. They rarely operated in broad daylight, making their appearance here all the more unusual.
'Something about this doesn't add up,' Su Tianhao thought, golden eyes narrowing as he analyzed the formation.
He reached out with his spiritual perception—and found nothing. Their spiritual energy signatures were completely suppressed.
Hmph.
As someone carrying the inherited memories of two immortal-level beings, he recognized exactly what was happening.
'Voidstep Shroud,' he noted. The Phantom Blade Faction's signature concealment art—passed down within the organization and capable of fooling most cultivators entirely.
Too bad.
A slight smile curved beneath his mask.
Compared to the Shrouded Dragon Veil, it was a candle held up to the sun.
Without hesitation, he applied the structural knowledge from his inherited memories, concentrating his spiritual perception to identify the exploitable flaws in the Voidstep Shroud. Like finding cracks in a clay pot—once he knew where to look, their true cultivation levels came clear.
'Martial Adepts?'
His brow rose. Then fell into something closer to confusion.
From the carriage escort alone, he could already identify several Martial Core Realm experts and at least two or three Martial Soul Realm cultivators positioned strategically within the formation. And deeper within the carriage itself—a concealed presence, dense and controlled, likely Martial Master Realm or above.
Seven Martial Adept-level Phantoms attacking a force like this.
It made no sense.
Even elite Phantoms with their specialized techniques couldn't bridge a gap of two entire major realms against Martial Core experts. And with Martial Soul Realm cultivators in the escort—this was less an assassination attempt and more a death wish.
'What are they thinking? Is this a suicide mission? Or...'
His golden eyes narrowed dangerously.
'...is there something I'm not seeing?'