The Netherworld Ghost Market lay shrouded in deathly silence.
The area around the central stone platform was a mess: shattered stones, overturned stalls, energy shockwaves that had yet to fully dissipate, and the pungent stench of burning mixed with a bone-deep chill lingering in the air. All silently bore witness to the brief yet brutal clash that had just taken place.
Li Yuan stood alone amid the wreckage, breathing lightly. The Dark Crimson Gold Crimson Sun within him spun rapidly like an efficient furnace, swiftly scorching and refining the wisps of chilly cursed energy that had invaded his meridians, turning them into pure energy to replenish his strength. At the same time, it eased the numb ache in his arms and the faint tremors in his internal organs. The trace of blood at the corner of his mouth had long since evaporated in the heat.
He appeared to be regulating his breathing, but in truth his senses were sharpened to their utmost. Like the most vigilant of leopards, he sensed every stir around him.
The gazes hidden in the shadows beneath their hoods had been filled with greed, scrutiny, and malice. Now, they had all turned to poorly concealed fear and wariness. No one spoke; even their breathing was deliberately quiet. To withstand the Netherworld Cult bigwig's attacks without dying, even injure him and force him back, then remain standing here unshaken... Such strength far surpassed the imaginations of most people present.
"Black Mountain Fiend Star..." someone murmured in a breathy voice, breaking the utter silence.
Like a pebble tossed into a still lake, the words sent out silent ripples. More eyes turned toward Li Yuan. Their expressions were complicated: some wary, some curious, but above all, they shared the understanding that this young man was not to be provoked.