In another location, far from the Black Wind Bandit camp, the territory of the Grey Wolf Gang was unusually lively as they hosted the leader of another gang, the atmosphere appearing normal to outsiders, as if two separate forces were simply negotiating or maintaining relations. However, the truth known only to the upper echelon of certain groups was far more dangerous, because although they appeared independent, the top leaders understood clearly that they all belonged to the same hidden force—the Ghost Claw Clan.
Inside the main tent, two men sat facing each other, their presence alone enough to make the air feel heavy.
One of them, Ravok, leaned forward slightly, his sharp eyes carrying a dangerous glint as he spoke in a low voice, "…I've received intel."
Across from him, another man, Zareth, remained calm, his expression unreadable as he asked, "…About what?"
Ravok's lips curved faintly.
"…Saik ore."
The moment those words were spoken, the atmosphere shifted.
Zareth's gaze sharpened slightly.
"…Location?"
"…Under the Black Wind Gang's territory."
Silence followed.
Saik ore was not something ordinary, it was a rare resource used in forging weapons suitable for Chakra Gathering stage cultivators and above, something that could directly enhance combat strength and long-term power.
Zareth leaned back slightly, thinking.
"…And you believe this?"
Ravok shrugged.
"…I believe the possibility."
Zareth tapped his finger lightly against the armrest.
"…Black Wind is just a proxy.…Of the Origin Clan."
Ravok nodded.
He leaned forward again.
"…If they truly control a mine, then Origin Clan members will definitely be involved."
Zareth's eyes narrowed.
"…Which means this isn't just a gang fight."
"…It's something bigger."
Ravok smirked slightly.
"…And that's where the risk—and profit—lies."
Zareth remained silent for a moment before speaking again.
"…The Black Fox Gang."
Ravok's expression didn't change.
"…Destroyed."
Zareth nodded slowly.
"…Less than twenty members… their leader was Stage 6 peak. but…Still killed."
Ravok added calmly, "…Because the information leaked."
Zareth exhaled slowly.
"…So Black Wind moved first."
The implication was clear.
If the intel was real, Black Wind was already acting on it.
If it was false—
Then someone was manipulating the flow of information.
Either way—
Danger.
Zareth spoke again.
"…Our numbers?"
Ravok replied without hesitation.
"…Black Wind has over forty members.…We each bring thirty to forty.…Total seventy plus."
Zareth nodded slightly.
"…Overwhelming."
Then—
He paused.
"…Unless Origin Clan intervenes."
Silence filled the tent again.
Because if that happened—
Numbers would mean nothing.
Ravok leaned back.
"…Then we call our own."
Zareth's eyes flickered.
"…Ghost Claw members."
Ravok nodded.
"…Exactly."
Zareth frowned slightly.
"…But the intel isn't confirmed."
Ravok shrugged.
"…Which means responsibility."
Zareth understood immediately.
If the information was false—
They would bear the consequences.
Resources.
Reputation.
Trust.
All at risk.
Yet—
Ravok's expression didn't waver.
"…But if it's true…"
His voice lowered.
"…An undiscovered ore mine…"
"…The profit…"
Zareth's eyes hardened.
"…Is worth it."
Silence followed once more.
Then—
A decision was made.
Just outside the tent, hidden within the shadows, a man stood completely still, his presence almost non-existent as he used a special technique to conceal himself, ensuring that not even those inside could detect him. He had heard everything.
Without making a sound, he slowly retreated, step by step, until he was far enough from the camp. Then, forming a series of precise hand signs, he activated a communication technique.
The message was simple.
The Ghost Claw Clan members—
Were coming.
Meanwhile, back at the Black Wind camp, Roma sat casually inside his room, holding a spiritual fruit in one hand as he looked at Arun, who was still in the process of recovering.
"…Eat."
Arun didn't hesitate this time.
Roma watched calmly as Arun consumed the fruit, his expression thoughtful, while at the same time keeping the original spiritual fruit aside carefully.
"…That one is for later."
Then Roma picked up another fruit which he made his own.
"…Let's try again."
He began eating slowly, feeling the familiar surge of energy enter his body as he focused on refining it carefully.
This time—
He was prepared.
"…It'll destabilize my cultivation…"
He knew it.
Rapid growth always came with consequences.
Unstable foundation.
Risk.
Loss of control.
But Roma didn't hesitate.…This is the best time.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"…No one knows my cultivation level…"
"…No one knows Arun's either…"
That alone was enough.
"…When the time comes…"
"…We leave."
His thoughts were clear.
Decisive.
Roma had no intention of staying.
Not here.
Not in this gang.
"…Leader position?"
He scoffed internally.
"…Tempting."
But—
He shook his head slightly.…Too risky.
From the fragmented memories of the original owner, something about Dharan had always felt off.
Suspicious.
Unclear.
"…Something's wrong."
Roma trusted that instinct.
"…I'm not getting involved."
He continued refining the energy calmly.
"…I don't want to be a bandit."
His gaze became steady.
"…Especially not the kind…that dies randomly to some protagonist passing by."
Silence filled the room.
Roma closed his eyes slightly as he continued cultivating.
"…Survive first…"
"…Everything else later
Deep within a hidden cave far from any settlement, four figures stood together, all dressed in the same black robes as the mysterious man, their presence alone making the air feel cold and oppressive as faint traces of chakra lingered around them. The black-clothed man from before stood at the center while the other three surrounded him, each carrying an equally dangerous aura.
Veyron, a tall man with a sharp voice, was the first to speak. "The Ghost Claw Clan is moving."
Kaelvar, broader and more imposing, frowned slightly. "Are you certain?"
Sylreth, who had remained quiet until now, spoke in a calm and chilling tone. "The information is confirmed."
Silence filled the cave for a moment as all eyes shifted toward the black-clothed man.
"So they took the bait," he said slowly.
Veyron crossed his arms. "Or the information leaked."
"Either way, they're coming," Kaelvar added, his tone turning colder.
The black-clothed man nodded faintly. "Which means we don't have much time."
Sylreth spoke again, "Calling for support from the Origin Clan will take too long. The Origin Clan is too far from the Southern Bortlan Hill Territory."
This region was under their control, at least on the surface, and all four of them were responsible for managing the dark elements of the Origin Clan here through proxy forces like the Black Wind Bandit Gang.
Veyron looked directly at the black-clothed man. "If Ghost Claw members arrive, we won't be able to control the situation."
"There is no ore mine," the black-clothed man said firmly.
The other three immediately looked at him.
"What?" Kaelvar's expression hardened.
"There is no Saik ore mine in my territory," the black-clothed man repeated.
Sylreth narrowed his eyes. "Then this situation is based on false information… or a deliberate setup."
"Regardless of the source," the black-clothed man said calmly, "the result is the same. They will come."
Veyron spoke immediately, "Then we intercept them before they reach the area."
Kaelvar nodded. "That's the only option."
The black-clothed man raised his hand slightly. "There is another problem."
All three focused on him.
"Dharan."
Veyron frowned. "Your subordinate?"
"He's too strong," the black-clothed man replied.
Kaelvar's eyes narrowed. "Explain."
The black-clothed man's voice lowered slightly as he explained that Dharan could defeat a Stage 6 peak cultivator while taking only minimal damage, making his combat power clearly comparable to that of a Stage 7 expert.
Sylreth's expression changed. "That's already Stage 7 combat power."
"And he's not obedient," Kaelvar added.
"No," the black-clothed man said calmly. "He isn't."
Veyron looked at him directly. "You're afraid of him."
The black-clothed man didn't deny it. "Yes."
Silence filled the cave as the weight of those words settled.
"If he breaks through to Stage 7," the black-clothed man continued, "even the four of us together may not be able to suppress him."
The atmosphere instantly became heavy, because all four of them were responsible for controlling this region on behalf of the Origin Clan, and if Dharan surpassed them, everything would change.
Sylreth spoke slowly, "If the higher-ups find out…"
"He will be promoted," the black-clothed man finished.
"And we become his subordinates," Kaelvar said, his voice tightening slightly.
Veyron exhaled slowly. "So, this isn't just about Ghost Claw anymore."
"No," the black-clothed man said quietly. "It isn't."
The cave fell silent once again.
Kaelvar finally asked, "Then what do we do?"
The black-clothed man's voice turned cold. "We use this opportunity."
The others listened without interruption.
"Ghost Claw is coming, chaos is inevitable, and in that chaos… Dharan dies."
Sylreth asked calmly, "And his gang?"
"Half of them should die, we can also say this attack as surprise to us when origin clan member will ask," the black-clothed man replied without hesitation.
There was no emotion in his voice, only a final decision.
Veyron looked at the others. "Then it's settled."
Kaelvar nodded. "We prepare."
The four figures stood in silence, their decision already made, as the faint echoes of dripping water in the cave were the only sound left.
Outside, the night remained still, completely unaware of what was coming.
Far away, the Black Wind Bandit Gang continued as usual, completely unaware that half of them had already been sentenced to death.