Cade’s whole body tensed, but he quickly forced himself to calm down. Unlike when the elder was right on his heels, this feeling of looming danger didn’t seem as imminent, though he suspected it was just a matter of time. He was willing to bet all his crystals that Griswold knew something that would explain it. He forced himself to ignore the pressure in order to focus on questioning the Brightheart.

  “Thanks, brother. Let me take it from here.”

  Gorgo released his captive, stepping back with a look of relief. Griswold fell to the the ground like a rock.

  “What, you think only you can have a sensitive nose?” The giant shrugged upon noticing the look Cade gave him. “I’ll have a look through the old man’s things. Let’s see what gifts he left for us,” he said, a greedy glint flashing in his white eyes.

  In the meantime, Cade approached the writhing heir, who was in the middle of a rather uncoordinated attempt to stand up. A strong, acrid smell of urine attacked his nostrils. He ignored the stench, instead lifting his foot to push at Griswold’s chest with brutal indifference, driving the hateful man back into the ground and locking him in place.

  “What happens when a Dao Protector dies?” the young Asura asked in an uncompromising tone.

  “I don't know,” the bound heir rasped out, turning his head away since he couldn't move anything else.

  Cade’s jaw clenched. He increased the pressure on Griswold’s chest. The man’s bones creaked dangerously until he finally cried out. Cade bent at the waist, bringing his hand right in front of the heir’s face, and slowly extended his claws.

  “I don’t have much time. Nod if you’re ready to talk, or your cultivation ends here,” he said in a measured tone, his clawed finger pointing at his captive’s navel.

  Griswold turned even paler, hate and fear burning in his eyes, but he ended up nodding stiffly. After what he had witnessed, there was no doubt in his mind that this madman would make good on his words.

  Cade eased the pressure just enough for him to speak.

  “Why the fuck are you doing this to me?!” he roared resentfully.

  “You’ll find out when I want you to. Talk.”

  Griswold’s expression darkened with anger. He was used to getting his way in life. If he wanted a woman, he’d take her. If someone pissed him off, they'd die. He was important, an aristocrat, and not some random noble with a washed-up lineage. He was a Brightheart, a tenth heir to the Empire! His surname opened all doors. Normal people had to grovel before him or face terrible consequences. Anyone who raised a hand against him was killed without mercy.

  Yet now, he was being thrown around like a piece of trash, forced to lie in his own filth and bark like a dog on command. His indignation knew no bounds, yet he couldn’t do anything to stop it. Rage boiled inside him, unable to find release. But he was also dreading this viper-eyed man who wiped the floor with Master Nine, shrugging off his battle art like a warm summer rain. The old man might have been known as an eccentric who focused on perfecting a single art—going as far as making it a part of his identity—but as a result, his control over it was exceptional. The Emperor made him a Dao Protector for a reason.

  “When one of the ten Dao Protectors dies, their soul tablet breaks,” he spat through clenched teeth, his voice thick with bitterness and repressed anger.

  This must be the reason the pressure returned.

  However, he kept his thoughts to himself. “So?” he shrugged.

  Griswold blinked in surprise, then let out a stunned chuckle. “Damn, you two are fucking clueless. For one, the Emperor has already dispatched a full contingent to secure this location, and all heirs have entered lockdown. But the ones to get here first will be the manhunters. Ever heard of those fellows?” He laughed harshly, refusing to continue.

  Cade’s brow tightened as he sensed his bloodthirst stir. He and Gorgo had gathered all available information on the Empire and the Brightheart family, including whatever they could find on the imperial manhunters. However, Griswold didn't need to know this. He once again pressed down with his boot, and a few ribs cracked beneath its merciless pressure.

  The Brighheart howled like a dog caught in a bear trap, tears welling in his eyes.

  “I'm more than happy to break every bone in your body. Speak," Cade said in an emotionless voice.

  “Fucking manhunters! Doesn’t the name say it all?!” Gris spat out. “Hunting men is what they do. There are four of them—all experts in the True Core realm. They are the Emperor’s personal hounds. They will track you anywhere. You’re dead already; you just don’t know it yet.”

  Cade stared at him in silence, then leaned even closer, Griswold’s face now separated by only a few inches from his mask. “Through your actions, you’ve incurred an impossibly large blood debt. Do you know what those are repaid with?” Cade whispered through gritted teeth. "Your first payment is due."

  Griswold’s eyes widened. Before he could respond, a clawed hand dove into his navel, shredding his intestines and tearing out his pre-core in one brutal motion. The young heir screamed as if his soul was on fire, his voice cutting off the next moment as a monstrous spike of pain shut down his consciousness. With his cultivation gone, his future in the Empire collapsed with it.

  For people like Griswold, losing power and being forced to live as a helpless mortal was a fate they only experienced in their worst nightmares, but it wasn’t yet the definition of living a life worse than death. It was a solid start, though.

  Cade crushed the pre-core in his palm, his lips curling down with disgust. He then grabbed Griswold by the neck, dragging his body into the deepest area of the cave. He ignored Master Nine’s corpse; the idea of claiming his foul blood filled him with revulsion.

  A few moments later, the young Brightheart managed to regain consciousness, but before he could eke out a word, Cade’s fist snapped forward three times in a blur of rapid strikes, shattering all the bones in his face with a series of wince-inducing crunches. For a Qi Condensation cultivator, the experience was likely comparable to a mortal being repeatedly smashed in the face with a forging hammer. Griswold only gurgled, spitting out broken teeth and bubbling blood from his destroyed mouth as he drifted in and out of consciousness.

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  “You’ll probably recover from some of the superficial damage, but your cultivation won’t last long enough to rebuild the bone underneath. You see, I don’t want you to get too comfortable in your mortal life, though I’m pretty sure it’ll be quite uncomfortable regardless. After all, you’re now completely useless to your father, and we both know he’s a ruthless bastard. You might even thank me; with a face like that, begging on the streets of Sacrament City could turn out quite profitable.”

  It seemed the reality of what had happened had finally started to get through to the heir, as he released a shrilling, mournful wail, choking on blood flowing down his throat.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll come back soon to check up on you,” Cade said flatly, tearing off a large piece of Griswold’s robe to wipe the back of his hand. He absorbed the tiny amount of ignited qi he used to reinforce his skin; he didn’t want to risk leaving even a trace of his blood anywhere in the cave.

  Cade knew that by keeping Griswold alive, he was stopping the wound in his heart from healing and scarring over, but killing simply wasn't enough. His soul would go on to reincarnate with no memory of his suffering. It was a reward he didn’t deserve. Every time Cade thought about simply ending Griswold’s life, he kept seeing his mom’s head rolling towards him, her blank eyes staring deep into his soul, and that Brightheart scum unloading his frustrations on her body. He had murdered her with such senseless ease, which meant she likely wasn’t the first protective parent he had killed. Close to a thousand families lost their children because of this useless trash and his family.

  Marius Brightheart and his son—these two had to suffer a ruinous fate for what they did. Dying wasn't enough. If Griswold was a rabid dog, then his father was the one holding the leash. Veronica was left without a pre-core, losing her ability to cultivate and regenerate her arm. Unless she had gods on her side, she would die miserably in the tunnels, and when Cade thought about it, there wasn’t a shred of compassion in his heart. You reap what you sow. Yet, compared to what he had in store for the two men, it could be said she got off easy. Once his cultivation and combat skills grew sufficiently, he would come back to deal with this matter properly, giving it all the attention it deserved.

  The young Asura sighed. He couldn’t afford to waste any more time here. The rising pressure was warning him that powerful enemies were abound. Cade had no idea whether these alerts were a permanent thing or a momentary fickle of his deviated cultivation, but he was very glad they were there. He stepped out of the cave and looked over at Gorgo, who stood with a massive grin plastered all over his face, staring blankly at the wristband in his hand as he sifted through its contents within his realm of consciousness.

  “Gorgo, it’s best if we don’t stay here much longer,” Cade said, a sense of urgency sharpening his voice.

  “No problem,” the giant said, departing his realm of consciousness with a satisfied expression. “Before we go, let’s split the crystals. Let me tell you, this old fellow wasn’t poor.”

  “That’s good. We need all the crystals we can get,” Cade smiled, giving him a thumbs-up. His heavy mood had already begun to dissipate. “Now that Griswold’s pre-core is shattered, his ring’s ownership mark should have faded. Let me check.”

  Cade pulled the gold band from his pocket. His eyes flashed with satisfaction when the ring’s storage space revealed itself with no resistance. “That little bastard’s been saving up,” he muttered, and Gorgo’s grin widened.

  They split the loot quickly, pocketing over 150,000 crystals each. Including their previous gains, they could now consider themselves very wealthy by most cultivators’ standards.

  “I think it’s best if we don’t use their speeders. Actually, we should probably ditch everything that belonged to them and only keep the crystals. It’s a shame, but some of these items might carry tracking marks, and we have no way to find out which ones are bad. Since we’ve already purchased the aura severance pills, it’s probably better to be safe than sorry,” Gorgo suggested, and Cade immediately agreed. He didn’t want to take any chances.

  After placing the elder’s wristband and its contents inside Griswold’s ring, they both changed into fresh clothes. Cade opened up the map, weighing different ways to dispose of the golden band. A short while later his face lit up. He had found what he was looking for. “There’s an active volcano about two thousand miles from Kettle. It’s not exactly along your route, but it isn’t too far either. What do you think?” he asked.

  “I’d say that’s a fitting end for any troublesome jewelry," Gorgo replied, flashing Cade a broad smile.

  With the matter of the ring settled, Cade pulled out a fist-sized sphere with churning waves of fire inside, radiating intense heat yet somehow cold to the touch. “I paid 1,200 crystals for this living fire bead. It should take care of any traces of our presence here. It’ll likely erase everything within a few hundred-foot radius.”

  “Oh yeah, that’s the good stuff.” Gorgo’s eyes lit up with admiration. “If I remember correctly, the artificers carve a restrictive formation into the glass, then compress fire right below the formation’s limit. Look at these tiny runes. This little thing is a damn work of art. It’s hard to believe that unleashing something this small is like cracking open the gates of hell.”

  “Well, I’ve only been told it’ll get very hot in here,” Cade grinned. Such an expensive thing, but splurging on the bead was necessary. He couldn't afford to leave even a drop of his blood around. There was too little information available on the manhunters' methods. The living fire bead would incinerate everything in sight, including melting through several layers of rock. However, its infernal energies were unleashed in a rapid burst and would equally switfly disperse. Otherwise, Griswold would have been cooked alive inside the cave, messing up Cade’s plans.

  “It’s time for us to go. Someone we don’t want to meet will arrive here fairly soon,” Cade said, sensing the pressure at the back of his head intensify.

  He and Gorgo didn’t know each other long, but they trusted and understood each other. It was a shame their paths had to split for now. Without another word, they locked into a rough, brotherly hug, hammering each other’s backs with enough force to knock the wind out, then broke apart.

  “Good luck, brother. I hope you find the answers you’re after. Let’s meet again soon,” Cade said, his voice edged with emotion.

  “Will do. Look after yourself, little brother. I’ve heard the south is beautiful—but dangerous. The spiritual veins down there are supposedly twice as large as here. There will be many cultivators in the second tier; even those in the third might be a common sight," Gorgo warned. "At least try not to offed anyone important,” he added with a big grin.

  “I'll do my best, but you know how it is. Once someone crosses the line, all I see is red,” Cade said, his smile stretching from ear to ear

  “Yeah, I've noticed that. Try to rein in that temper of yours, at least around powerful fellows,” Gorgo laughed heartily in response. Then his smile faded, replaced by a serious expression. “Good luck, brother. Grow strong and stay safe, but don’t let anyone bully you. We’ll see each other in no time.”

  Two speeders lifted off from the clearing, their dark forms rising towards the clouds. A moment later, a small, glowing object struck the ground near the elder’s corpse. A terrible storm of billowing fire exploded in all directions with a world-shattering boom, erasing all signs of their presence and turning the area below them into molten desert.

  Cade and Gorgo gave each other a satisfied nod as the wave of terrifying heat struck their Arrow’s protective formations and the smell of scorched vegetation hit their nostrils. Then they finally parted, flying off in opposite directions.

  The Asura directed his speeder towards the Brightheart Empire. He had one very important thing to do before leaving.