Black Mountain Fiend Star

A bone-deep chill spread from the depths of Black Mountain Forest, like icy needles piercing the marrow. Even the wind blowing toward Black Mountain City carried a stench of blood that nothing could wash away.

In the western part of the city, near the gates, lay a jumble of streets where the air was always thick with the stink of sweat, cheap liquor, and animal dung. Low mud-brick houses huddled together, and the crooked alleys were perpetually muddy. This was where laborers, down-and-out martial artists, and people who preferred to stay out of sight gathered.

"Lame Old Six's" tavern was tucked away at the end of the most unremarkable alley. It was a small place, its greasy tables and long benches worn smooth and gleaming. The light was dim, and a tiny oil lamp illuminated only one corner of the counter. Though it was still daylight, several people already sat inside, mostly hunters and adventurers who had just returned from outside the city. They were wounded, and their eyes still held the lingering shock of what they'd seen.

A man with fresh claw marks on his face gulped down a mouthful of cheap liquor. The fiery drink made him grimace. He wiped his mouth and lowered his voice as he spoke to his companion. "...Damn, it was creepy! Creepy as hell! Over by Old Crow Ridge, there were four of them! Four green-clad bastards, and they died horribly!"

An old hunter beside him, missing a front tooth, raised his cloudy eyes. "Green-clad? Those Netherworld Cult scum?"

"Who else could it be!" The man shuddered at the memory, his fingers unconsciously tracing shapes on the tabletop. "One had his neck twisted off, another had a huge hole caved into his chest, and one..." He gave a grim chuckle. "Every bone in his body looked like it'd been smashed by a giant bear. Not one was left intact! All that was left on the ground was a crooked blood talisman. It gave me the creeps just looking at it."

"Who did it? Was it an inside job?" someone asked.

The man shook his head, awe and fear flickering in his eyes. "Didn't look like it. The place was clean. Apart from the blood, they didn't leave a damn thing behind. It was more like... something had simply rolled right over them."

The tavern keeper, Old Six, had been leaning behind the counter, slowly wiping a cup with a dirty rag. Without looking up, he chimed in, "It wasn't a thing. It was a person."

The tavern fell silent. Several pairs of eyes turned to Old Six all at once.

Old Six lifted his deeply wrinkled face, a knife scar running from his brow to the corner of his mouth. His cloudy eyes swept over everyone, and his voice rasped like a broken gong. "A few days ago, three more died over by Wild Dog Slope. Green-clad, too. More or less the same way. Someone saw a figure from a distance—not all that tall, covered in blood, moving as fast as a ghost."

"Who was it?" the claw-marked man asked urgently.

Old Six lowered his head and continued wiping his cup as if he hadn't said a thing. Only after everyone had grown impatient did he slowly let out a few more words:

"Didn't look very old. Dressed in rags, like... one of the apprentices at a martial hall."

"A martial hall apprentice?" someone cried out. "What martial hall apprentice could be that vicious? Kill four Netherworld Cultists in one go?"

Old Six didn't answer. He only gave them a look full of meaning.

In the corner, a middle-aged man in an inconspicuous grey short jacket had sat in silence. He quietly set down a few copper coins, stood, and left the tavern. After winding through the alleys and making sure no one was following him, he slipped quickly through a secluded side gate into the Li Family compound.

The news grew wings and rode the cold wind, sweeping through Black Mountain City's poorest corners.

"Have you heard? There's a hardcase who's made it his business to go after the Netherworld Cult!"

"More than that—he's killing them outright! His methods are crude as hell. He just meets them head-on and beats them to death!"

"They say he's from a martial hall?"

"Bullshit! I say some fiend has set his sights on those shadow-dwelling bastards!"

"Black Mountain Fiend Star... I heard someone call him that."

"Black Mountain Fiend Star..."

In the study of Third Elder Li Qian Xiong, the coals blazed, yet they couldn't drive away the chill in the room. Li Qian Xiong stood with his hands behind his back before the window, gazing at the desolate courtyard outside. Behind him stood the Grey-robed Man, who had just returned from the tavern, head bowed.

"Are you sure it was him?" Li Qian Xiong's voice gave nothing away.

The Grey-robed Man bowed his head lower. "Almost certainly. The time, the location, that man's build and age—all of it matches. And... according to a collateral-branch family member who was lucky enough to make it back, after that night at the altar, Li Yuan's vitality... was frighteningly strong."

Li Qian Xiong fell silent, absently rubbing the thin layer of dust on the window lattice between his fingers. The altar's strange transformation, the Ancestral Spirit's disappearance, Li Yuan's lucky survival and explosive increase in strength... each was a poisoned thorn lodged in his heart. He had planned to take his time, quietly bring Li Yuan under control, and uncover the secret he carried.

But now, not only had the boy failed to hide, he had taken the initiative and gotten himself involved with the Netherworld Cult! His methods were so brutal, and his name was spreading so fast!

This had already slipped beyond his control.

"He's at Blustering Wind Martial Hall now. It looks like that old bastard Shi Lie Feng intends to protect him at all costs," the Grey-robed Man added quietly.

"Shi Lie Feng..." A cold glint flashed in Li Qian Xiong's eyes. "He might protect him for a while, but he can't protect him forever."

He turned around, his face expressionless. "How has the Netherworld Cult reacted?"

"Someone's been killed. They won't let it go. They're secretive in their dealings and exact revenge for the smallest slight. They've probably already started investigating."

"Investigating?" A cold smile tugged at Li Qian Xiong's lips. "Let them investigate. If necessary... we can make it easier for them."

The Grey-robed Man's heart tightened. He understood what the Third Elder meant: he intended to kill with a borrowed knife.

"Then... what about us?"

"Keep an eye on him." Li Qian Xiong walked over to the writing desk and picked up a wolf-hair brush, turning it between his fingers. "Let's see how big a storm our 'resurrected' sacrifice can stir up. Once we've wrung all the value out of him, or... he burns himself playing with fire, we can clean up the mess then."

The brush tip stopped. He raised his eyes, his gaze sharp as a falcon's:

"Remember: I want to see him alive, and if he's dead... bring me his body. The secret he carries must belong to the Li Family!"

"Yes!" The Grey-robed Man bowed and withdrew without a sound.

Only the occasional crackle of the coals broke the silence in the study.

Li Qian Xiong set down the brush and walked over to the brazier, holding out his hands to the fire. The orange-red glow played over his somber face, lighting it in shifting patches.

"Black Mountain Fiend Star..." he murmured, his gaze deep and inscrutable.

He wanted to see whether the boy who'd crawled back from the altar had truly grown into a force to be reckoned with, or whether he was... just a shooting star about to burn out.

Outside the window, the sky grew increasingly gloomy, as if a heavy snowfall were brewing.