Chapter 167: Investigation [1]

Night fell over Yutao City, yet the darkness did nothing to dampen the city’s frantic, commercial pulse.

Lanterns made of illuminated crystal and spirit-fire hummed along the stone avenues, casting a warm, amber glow across the bustling marketplace.

Traders shouted their wares, carriages loaded with medicinal herbs clattered over the cobblestones, and cultivators in colorful robes moved to and fro, making deals before the market stalls closed for the midnight hour.

Roy was among the moving crowd—or rather, a hidden part of it.

In a massive, unfamiliar metropolis like Yutao City, walking through the main thoroughfares in his true form or even his human disguise was an unnecessary exposure.

A predator did not announce his presence when entering new territory; he slipped beneath the brush, observed the terrain, and mapped out the weak points of his prey.

TAP-TAP-TAP.

A sleek, pitch-black lizard, barely a foot long and covered in dark, light-absorbing scales, darted effortlessly across the stone masonry of a three-story building.

Its golden-crimson eyes glinted in the dark as it scuttled up the outer wooden frame of a grand, multi-level tavern known across the district as the Drunken Crane Inn.

Slipping silently through a gap in the second-floor window frame, the black lizard crawled onto a thick, dusty support beam high above the tavern floor.

Below, the tavern was packed to capacity. The air was thick with the reek of spilled grain liquor, roasted monster meat, and pipe smoke.

Young martial artists, hardened mercenaries, and silver-haired retired cultivators sat shoulder-to-shoulder around heavy oak tables, drowning their fatigue in booze, laughing boisterously, and roaring over dirty jokes.

Roy clung to the dark shadow of the ceiling beam, his scaled body completely motionless.

His breathing was non-existent, his presence erased so thoroughly that even a Martial Master sitting directly below wouldn’t perceive him.

For the first thirty minutes, the chatter drifting up to his ears was entirely unremarkable:

• Two young bodyguards argued over the price of low-tier iron swords.

• A merchant complained about the high tariff taxes enforced by Yutao City’s lord.

• A group of drunken mercenaries boasted about a minor skirmish between two rival mid-tier sects along the eastern border.

Just as Roy was considering shifting his location to a high-end guild house, a coarse, raspy voice rose from a circular table tucked in the corner of the room.

"Bah! You youngsters know nothing about the true storm brewing up north!"

The speaker was a drunken elderly cultivator with a tangled gray beard, a pockmarked face, and a stained leather tunic.

He slammed his clay jug of liquor onto the table, sending amber liquid sloshing over the side.

Sitting across from the old man were two young cultivators wearing the matching blue robes of a local mid-tier martial academy.

"Old Man Chen, you’ve had three jugs of fire-wine," one of the youths replied with an amused smirk, tossing a salted nut into his mouth.

"What storm could possibly concern us down here in Yutao City? The trade routes are open, and the local guards are active."

"That is because your eyes are glued to the dirt beneath your boots, brat!" Old Man Chen snapped, leaning forward with a conspiratorial glare.

He took a heavy swig from his jug, wiping his beard with the back of his hand. "Tell me... have you two heard about the recent standoff between the Jade Daoist Sect and the Mythical Heaven Sect?"

The second youth straightened up slightly, his curiosity piqued. "The Jade Daoist Sect?

That’s a Super Sect from the central plains! Why would a titan like that bother with the Mythical Heaven Sect?"

"Because the Jade Daoist Sect is openly accusing the Mythical Heaven Sect of outright theft!" Old Man Chen cackled, dropping his voice into a low, raspy whisper that barely carried over the tavern noise.

"And not just a simple robbery, mind you. A grand heist! The Jade Daoist Sect’s grand convoy was transporting over three thousand Beast-stage F-class abomination mana cores back to their main branch... only for the entire shipment to vanish into thin air overnight!"

The first youth gasped, leaning over the table.

"Three thousand Beast-stage cores?! That’s enough energy to power a grand sect’s defensive array for a decade! Did the Jade Daoist Sect catch the thieves?"

"They couldn’t catch the culprits in the act, but their grand elders used a blood-tracking array on the residual mana," the old man chuckled darkly.

"And do you know where the spiritual trail led? Straight into the Northern Hashian Mountains!"

The second youth blinked, his eyes widening.

"Wait... the Northern Hashian Mountains? Isn’t that the primary domain of the Glorious Mythical Sect?"

"BINGO!" Old Man Chen slammed his fist on the table, grinning wildly.

"The Glorious Mythical Sect is merely a branch—a subordinate puppet force—of the true giant, the Mythical Heaven Sect! The Jade Daoist Sect is furious!

They sent formal war envoys straight to the Mythical Heaven Sect’s main gates three days ago, demanding the return of their property or total war!"

High above on the wooden beam, the black lizard’s golden-crimson eyes narrowed into sharp slits.

Three thousand F-class abomination mana cores... tracked to the Northern Hashian Mountains...

Roy’s sharp mind immediately connected the dots.

The elder of the Glorious Mythical Sect hadn’t just come to the northern mountains to hunt beastmen for sport; he was using the beastman campaign as a cover to hide, process, or utilize those stolen abomination cores!

Below, Old Man Chen took another long gulp of his liquor, letting out a satisfied burp.

"Ah, but that isn’t even the funniest part of the whole circus," the old man sneered, his voice laced with cruel, casual amusement.

"While the Super Sects are bickering over their stolen treasures, the hunting dogs of Kaelos City have been having a grand old time playing hunter in those same mountains!"

"You mean the beastman purge?" the first youth asked, taking a sip from his own cup.

"Purge? It’s a gold rush, boy!" Old Man Chen cackled. "The beastman tribes up north are scattering like roaches exposed to torchlight! And the biggest catch of the century just landed in Kaelos City’s lap!"

"The Crimson Spotted Leopard-Kin?" the second youth chimed in. "I heard rumors at the gates today..."

"It’s no rumor! It’s absolute fact!" the old man grinned, leaning closer. "The A-class Crimson Spotted Leopard-Kin tribe is completely finished!

Their Tribe Leader—that arrogant Initial-Enlightened Martial General named Agrea—was turned into a pile of charred meat by the Glorious Mythical Sect’s elder!

Their Martial Master elders were slaughtered to the last man!"

The old man threw his head back and laughed, a cold, uncaring sound. "The surviving leopard-kin—hundreds of them—were thrown into iron chains!

They’re being dragged through the dirt toward the slave markets of Kaelos City right now! Without their General, without their elders, that tribe is as good as extinct!"

The two youths joined in the laughter, raising their cups in a mock toast to the hunters.

High in the dark shadows of the ceiling, the small black lizard didn’t make a sound.

Roy had gathered every piece of vital intelligence he needed.

The grand political board of the continent was laid bare before him: a looming clash between Super Sects, a stolen cache of three thousand abomination cores, and an army of captives currently marching toward Kaelos City.

Without a sound, the black lizard turned, slipping out through the window gap and dissolving back into the darkness of the Yutao night.