After crossing less than two miles, Cade’s danger sense awoke with a soft, insistent warning. It was a barely perceivable pressure at the back of his head, a familiar hum he had once mistaken for simple anxiousness. He already recognized what it meant: the danger wasn't imminent, but the situation would become a problem sooner rather than later.

  He had spent time on his journey thinking deeply about this strange danger sense and how it could possibly work. It felt like some form of near-instant divination, predicting an effect before its cause had fully materialized. It sounded ridiculous, but the proof was becoming increasingly convincing. Right now, Cade knew he was being followed. Combining the feedback from both his danger and life senses, it wasn’t hard to discern three signatures trailing him a couple of miles behind.

  He decided to ignore them for now and continue heading to the training chamber. It was located in a different part of the city anyway, and there was no way these people would try to break through its powerful protective formations. In Oasis, everything was under control, and justice was executed swiftly and decisively. Crime was virtually nonexistent unless committed by foreigners—and for them, the elves had little mercy. But not all were easily caught. Some, like the beastborn murderer dubbed “Elfbane”, were so despised their wanted posters outnumbered all others three to one.

  Whoever these people were, it was guaranteed they would wait for him to leave the city. So Cade wasn’t concerned. Their fluctuations suggested cultivations ranging from the middle to the late stage of the Foundation Establishment realm. If they tried to rob him, which was likely the reason they came, they would regret it very quickly. After his breakthrough and the new spherules appearing in his body, Cade was a different person. If he could form and operate these tentacle-like wings as a bloodseeker did, he wouldn’t worry about anyone below True Core, even without igniting his blood.

  After being followed for roughly twenty miles, Cade finally arrived at the training complex. He landed and dismounted his speeder, then proceeded towards the nearest of the large, squat structures. Pressing his palm against a crystal tablet outside the building’s entrance, he temporarily deactivated the protective formations and stepped inside, the heavy reinforced door closing behind him with a dull thud.

  “Senior Brother, do you think he might have realized we’re following him?” asked a middle-aged man with short hair and graying temples, shuffling and straightening his black robes. A golden sun emblem was embroidered over his heart.

  “Impossible. How could he have spotted us from two miles away? We’re behind him, not the other way around. Did you see any eyes on the back of his head?” another black-robed man chuckled nervously. With his late stage cultivation, he was the natural leader of the group. Approaching sixty years of age, his gray hair had receded a fair bit. Sunlight reflected off the small golden sun adorning his robe.

  The third man also wore black robes of an identical design. He was much younger, barely thirty, with long brown hair swiped back and a short, neatly trimmed beard. Upon hearing his senior brother’s words, he simply nodded.

  “Just think about how many crystals he must have on him. He paid more than triple the price and didn’t bat an eye!” the middle-aged daoist said, his voice thick with excitement.

  “We do need to be careful, though. The elves aren’t bothered with what happens outside the walls of their city, but we still can’t afford to be seen. If someone accidentally spots us ganging up on that fellow, we won't be able to enter Oasis ever again. Patience!” the balding elder added in a quiet, authoritative voice.

  The long-haired man again nodded in agreement, his jaw tensing as his eyes lit up with greed.

  “As you say, Senior Brother. I’ll take the first shift,” the middle-aged man proposed.

  “Alright.”

  “How is it?” the balding daoist asked, after arriving next to his junior brother.

  The long-haired cultivator cleared his throat. “Same. It’s been five days now,” he answered, his low voice hoarse from disuse.

  “If this takes much longer, the Sect Master will call us back. What the hell is he doing in there?!” the older man voiced his thoughts, his irriation rising.

  The younger cultivator shrugged. By now, they were all sitting on pins and needles. While the Black Sun Sect was the most powerful in the Brightheart Empire, they all were mere outer elders. Their time wasn’t their own. They could be called upon at any moment for some chore the young heiress couldn’t be bothered with herself.

  Suddenly, the protective formations on the building flickered, and shortly after, a solitary red-robed figure came out, holding a large cage in his hands. The balding elder snapped a telescope to his eye. He jerked back in surprise, his brow knitting as he stared ahead.

  “Why the hell did he keep two chickens in the training room?” he muttered audibly.

  His junior brother shrugged with indifference. “Shall we follow him?”

  “Call your uncle. And yes, we're following,” the old daoist threw a small comms gem at the long-haired man. Both of their speeders slowly moved, staying a couple of miles behind the red-robed man’s Arrow Six.

  Their target first visited the trade ring, where he handed over the chickens to a young lady who apparently bred and sold the birds locally. Chickens were one of the few animals the elves were fond of, as they didn’t smell too bad and could provide both eggs and succulent meat. Because the Oasis was a city in the middle of the desert, nearly all food had to be imported, which made it expensive. Fortunately, it was a cultivator city, and the number of crystals passing hands was more than enough to keep everyone fed.

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  After visiting the market, the rich stranger turned around and headed in the direction of the city walls.

  “I think he might be leaving!” exclaimed the middle-aged man, who had arrived just a few moments ago.

  “Let’s not get excited. Maintain the distance,” the oldest daoist tried to remain calm, but his eyes widened upon noticing the direction their target was heading.

  “If we could recover the drop of blood… Damn, we could double our gains,” the middle-aged cultivator remarked covetously.

  The older man turned around, shooting him an incredulous glare. “Do you have a death wish? Were you planning on selling it back to the Sect Master, or maybe directly to the Emperor’s own fucking daughter?! If they were to find out we robbed this fellow, we’d all be imperially fucked. Don’t even think about stupid shit like that,” the elder snapped.

  “No, no, you’re right, Senior Brother. It was just a loose thought, please don’t mind me,” the middle-aged daoist waved his hands apologetically.

  “Hmph. Avoiding a fight would be for the best, but I wouldn’t count on it. If we fight, don’t bother probing him—we need to kill him quickly, then we'll burn the body with the fire bead. No traces of our presence can remain,” the older cultivator instructed, ensuring to meet each of his junior brothers' gazes and receive a nod of understanding.

  “Let’s hope he flies deep into the desert,” the young man finally spoke up. Silence fell upon the group, their greedy expressions turning grim.

  Cade had left behind the city walls a good thirty minutes ago, flying at high speed and low altitude. The desert below him passed in a blur. Patches of crystal-clear water surrounded by green vegetation were scattered among large sprawls of white sand, continuously heating up under the relentless sun.

  Alright, this should be enough. His life sense told him there weren’t any high-rank creatures within a few miles, and the area was wide open, with nothing but sand as far as the eye could see.

  Cade dismounted his Arrow and, with hands clasped behind his back, turned in the direction of the three men. Gradually, three dark silhouettes grew in the distance. He narrowed his eyes, magnifying the view, and a momentary flicker of recognition passed through them as he saw the emblem on their robes. Still, he remained calm and composed, his expression neutral. Soon, the three speeders arrived a hundred feet away from him, and the cultivators promptly dismounted, giving each other brief, hesitant glances.

  Before their leader could open his mouth, Cade spoke. "My father was an average cultivator but a remarkable man. He taught me a very important lesson about life. He said, 'Son, there will come a day when you might gain enough power and could be tempted to claim things that don’t belong to you. However, on that day, you have to resist this feeling with all your strength.' Do you know why?" Cade asked, his low voice steady and direct.

  The three black-robed men once again looked at each other, unsure of what was happening.

  “Why?” the youngest of them asked, trying to stare him down.

  “Because life and death are often separated by a single decision,” Cade answered, his gaze unwavering.

  “Enough crap!" the oldest man scoffed. "Hand over your ring. We want your artifacts, crystals and your speeder. You can keep the rest and walk away with your life."

  “Alright. Here it is.” Cade took off his red band, placing it on his outstretched palm.

  “Throw it to us!” the old man commanded.

  “I can’t. My shoulder hurts,” he replied with a straight face.

  “Your... what?” the baffled elder refused to believe what he was hearing.

  “Throw it with the other arm then!” the middle-aged man cut in, his tone growing tense.

  “I never practiced throwing with my left arm. I’m afraid you will all laugh,” Cade scratched the back of his head.

  “Fuck this bullshit!” the youngest cultivator suddenly burst forward, raising a cloud of sand. He crossed the distance in less than half a breath, finding himself in front of the red-robed man with his hand already reaching for the ring. Only now did he realize how tall the stranger was, his broad frame filling his view.

  “Archie, don't!” the middle-aged man called at the top of his lungs.

  The warning came too late.

  Everything that followed happened in less than two blinks. Cade’s left arm shot forward, like a predator striking at the perfect moment. He snatched the long-haired man by the throat, shattering his qi barrier with brute force and pulling him in. The man’s robes whipped around him as he let out a pitiful yelp, just before Cade’s forehead slammed into his nosebridge with the force of a mounted battering ram. A wet crunch, like a heel put through a melon, cut through the stillness as Archie's skull exploded in a fountain of gore, shattered bone flying off in random directions. Cade threw the body to the side, his face now drenched in blood. He continued staring at the two men without much change in expression.

  “Archie!” the middle-aged man cried out, blinding anger overtaking him. He pulled out a golden scepter with one hand while flashing seals with the other. Almost immediately, a scepter projection the size of a small building began to materialize high above the red-robed man, wrapped in swirling dark energies. He lifted his arm to bring the massive scepter down on his enemy.

  “Bastard, I will skin you for what you did!” the other black-robed cultivator spat venomously, his face twisting into a mask of unbound rage. His hands began flashing, lining up seal after seal. A ten-foot-wide hole in the world manifested in front of him, radiating ominous dark light.

  “Quietly accept your deaths,” Cade gritted out, wiping the blood dripping into his eyes with the sleeve of his longcoat. He ignored the nagging from his danger sense telling him to move away. With the sound of a dozen cracking whips, translucent, ribbon-like tendrils erupted from his back, twelve on each side, unfurling to their full length like a set of sprawling, tattered wings. Each hundred-foot-long appendage shimmered with a faint red glow, undulating with barely contained excitement. Scarlet mist billowed out from under his feet, spreading in all directions like a contagious cloud.

  A crushing sense of impending doom seized both men, breaking the connection with their spiritual projections. The middle-aged expert lost control of his bladder, and his face reddened in shame. As yellow liquid trickled down his leg, he bit on his tongue, forcing himself back to full awareness and fumbled inside his storage ring, retrieving a small, round object. Soft pulses of blue light escaped between his tightly clenched fingers.

  Suddenly, powerful pressure exploded in the back of Cade’s head, and his eyes widened in alarm, focusing on the small source of pulsing light.

  Shit! A distress beacon. Someone powerful was coming, and coming fast. This had to end now.

  Both cultivators watched helplessly as their battle manifestations collapsed. Their red-winged opponent suddenly roared, sucking the surrounding mist into his wings. The scarlet glow of the flowing ribbons flared violently, and the blazing figure rose above the ground—then blurred with a thunderous rumble, moving faster than their eyes could follow.