Xiao Jin leaned against the cliff face, still clutching half a broken blade.
The trail of blood at the corner of his mouth had dried into a dark brown stain.
He looked at Wang Yuan and suddenly smiled.
There was something hard to name in that smile, something like pity and something like self-mockery.
"Wang Yuan."
His voice was hoarse.
"Your fate is worse than mine."
Wang Yuan frowned, puzzled.
"What do you mean?"
Xiao Jin pointed first at the Chiyan Coiled Dragon Armor Wang Yuan wore, then at the Northern Frontier Cavalry scattering beyond the pass.
Finally, he pointed at the shattered hilt of the Nine Nether Baleful Suppression Demon Blade at Wang Yuan's waist.
"You think I lost today and you won."
"But have you thought about what your ability to devour divine weapons and demon blades will bring upon you?"
Wang Yuan said nothing. His face darkened.
Xiao Jin laughed, the rough, rasping sound echoing between the cliffs of the pass.
"What has kept the Great Yin Imperial Court standing for eight hundred years?"
"Of the Twelve Garrisons of the Northern Frontier and the Eighteen Sects of the Provinces, which one doesn't possess a few divine weapons or demon blades to guard its gates?"
"The Nine Cauldrons are enshrined in the imperial ancestral temple. They were the vessels upon which Great Yin was founded."
"Ancient weapons lie hidden in the great sects' vaults. They are the foundation that anchors each sect's fortune."
"These are the deadliest weapons under heaven, and the very things those powers depend on to survive."
He paused and stared into Wang Yuan's eyes. "Yet you, a boy at Mid-stage Organ Refining, can devour them with your bare hands."
"Tell me—if the Great Yin Imperial Court learns you exist, will they sleep soundly?"
"In