Jiang waited until the last echo of the cultivator's footsteps faded before he let his shoulder slump. The mask cracked; the cold front he'd been holding slipped, and he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. His legs trembled, and when he glanced down, the stone creeping around his shins was high enough to leave bruises already. Another heartbeat, and it would have crushed bone.

That had been… much closer than he'd hoped for.

His stealth technique may have let him get close enough to strike, especially with his target distracted by the fire-alinged cultivator's decision to leave, but he had underestimated the man's reflexes – not to mention he hadn't even registered the ground beneath his feet as a possible threat until it had already locked him in place. If he hadn't managed to extend his stolen sword's blade with shadow at the last second, that may well have been the end of him.

"I'm luckier than I have any right to be," he admitted to himself aloud, voice hoarse.

If the fire cultivator had decided to take his chances, Jiang wouldn't have survived. He knew it.

Speaking of, better to get free just in case the man changed his mind.

Jiang gritted his teeth, lifting his new sword and setting the heavy metal bit at the end of the hilt against the stone. The first strike rang out sharp and hollow. On the second, the stone cracked. The third shattered it, chips falling away as though it had been waiting to collapse. The pressure on his legs eased, leaving behind a throbbing ache and the faint sense that he'd come far too close.

That was easier than he'd expected – though maybe it was because the stone was no longer infused with Qi. He staggered forward past the two corpses to the closest free area of damp stone, folding his legs underneath him as he closed his eyes and drew in a long breath, sinking into cultivation.

The shadows welcomed him. Not just the ones that pooled around his feet, the ones that somehow existed despite the lack of a light source, but the greater darkness that seemed to fill the cavern itself. Ancient, patient, almost undisturbed – he could feel the lingering traces of fire Qi in the air, the light that had, however temporarily, pushed back the darkness. The Qi slid into him easily, almost eagerly, as though the entire space had been built for him. His pathways drank deep, each inhale richer than the last.

Was this what Old Nan had been talking about when she said shadow-aligned Qi was scarce? Was this the first time he'd cultivated in a location suited for his affinity?

But there was something strange, too. The flow felt muffled, just a fraction removed from his senses. As though someone had pressed a cloth over his ears – not silence, but a dampening. He frowned, wondering if it was because he was beneath the city, all that stone and order pressing down. The Pact was supposed to work better in the wilds, right?

Then again, maybe it was just because there was some vague difference between 'shadow' Qi and 'darkness' Qi or something. Shadows only existed because of light; darkness needed nothing. He didn't know which one he belonged to.

Didn't matter. Right now, it was helping him cultivate faster than he ever had before, and that was all he cared about. He let the question drift away, sinking deeper, guiding the Qi through his meridians with the stubborn rhythm he'd carved into himself over endless hours. His Qi swirled in his dantian, pushing at the latest block in his pathways barring him from the next stage. It would likely be the work of a week or two before he could—

Before he could even finish the thought, something cracked inside him – something silent, internal, but unmistakable. His eyes snapped open.

A breakthrough.

He blinked, disoriented. Already? That… he'd just reached the sixth stage not two days ago. Sure, he was progressing faster thanks to the Pact, but two days wasn't just fast, it was downright unnatural. Even he knew that – from what Zhang had told him, sect disciples spent months, sometimes years, between steps.

It had taken him four months to get from the first stage to the third at the Azure Sky Sect, and in the month since he'd shot up to the seventh stage. And stranger still, it seemed to be getting quicker – the sixth stage had taken him a few days, at least, while this… this had taken less than an hour of cultivation after a fight. Was that it? Was the constant struggle, the life-or-death pressure, what truly drove advancement? It would certainly explain the Sects' obsession with duels and combat tournaments if a real fight could provide more progress than months of quiet meditation.

He focused inward, assessing the change. It was an underwhelming breakthrough, in a way. There was no new, sudden insight, no dramatic surge of power that made him feel invincible. It was just… more. His dantian felt fuller, the Qi within denser, and the pathways of his meridians seemed a fraction wider, less strained. It was a subtle shift, but a welcome one. Another step closer to the second realm, another small increase in the power he could bring to bear.

He wouldn't turn it down.

— — —

The tunnel stretched on longer than he expected, a straight line broken only by the sound of his boots on damp stone. By the time he'd finished filling his dantian and examining the changes from his breakthrough, the wall blocking the path had mostly collapsed in on itself and was little more than a pile of rubble.

The path continued to gently slope upwards, and eventually ended in a heavy, iron-banded wooden door, almost identical to the one he'd broken through in the Broker's office.

He paused for a moment. Just like the last door, this one was locked – but instead of kicking it in, Jiang paused, curiosity overriding his focus for a moment. Could he… use his shadows to unlock the door?

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With a flicker of intent, his shadow – which still shouldn't have existed, considering the lack of light sources – rose from the ground, solidifying as it flowed into the keyhole. He focused on the vague, numb pressure he could sense through his shadow as he somewhat clumsily felt around the lock's inner workings.

It didn't take him long to give up. Considering he had no idea how a lock actually worked and the feedback he got from his shadow-limb could generously be described as 'imprecise', it shouldn't have been a surprise.

It was a stupid idea anyway.

He stepped back and kicked the door. The wood shuddered, the sound a loud boom in the enclosed space, and the frame splintered around the lock. He kicked it again, and the door flew inward, crashing against a stone wall.

He stepped through into a spacious, well-lit basement. Crates and barrels were stacked neatly against the walls, but in the centre of the room, a man in professional-looking leather armour was just scrambling to his feet from a stool, a half-eaten apple dropping from his hand. The man's eyes went wide with shock when he saw Jiang.

"Intruder!" he yelled, his voice a clear, trained alarm call. "Intruder from the cistern!"

Jiang hesitated for a fraction of a second. This… he was almost completely certain that this man was working for the Broker, but he wasn't absolutely sure. For all he knew, the Broker simply passed through this area, and the guard was completely innocent.

In this case, the choice was taken out of his hands as the guard drew a long, clean sword from his belt and charged, his movements disciplined and efficient.

Well then. He wasn't going to feel bad about defending himself, so he drew his new blade and concentrated for a moment, letting shadows spill along the edge to lengthen it. If he planned to use this sword more in the future – and even in his limited experience, he could tell it was a well-made blade – then he'd best get used to it as quickly as possible.

Steel met shadow-wreathed steel. The dark extension shattered with a sound like cracking glass, but the force of the blow still sent the guard staggering back, his own sword vibrating in his hands. It was all the opening Jiang needed. The world seemed to slow, just for a moment. The guard's movements, while skilled for a mortal, were predictable, almost telegraphed. Jiang stepped inside the man's clumsy recovery and drove his blade into a gap in the leather armour. The fight was over before it had truly begun.

Jiang stepped to one side out of the path of the falling body, looking down at the sword in his hands with a complicated feeling. He… really was beyond mortals now, wasn't he? This man had likely spent years training with a sword, while Jiang had, at most, a few weeks of instruction. Even the man's movements had felt… slower. Like watching someone fight underwater. Not helpless, but not dangerous either – not anymore. With his Qi reinforcement humming through his body, the gap between them was too wide.

Something to think on later. He wiped the blade clean on the guard's cloak and moved for the stairs, taking them two at a time. He emerged into a wide, well-appointed hallway. More guards were there, four of them, already moving into a defensive formation.

He paused for a moment, giving them the opportunity to respond first. To some, letting the initiative go like that would have been a stupid move – but even against four of them, Jiang simply didn't feel threatened. Not anymore.

So he could afford to let them set the tone of this engagement. If they wished to run, he would let them. If they wished to attack… well, that would only end one way.

The guards hesitated. Four pairs of eyes flicked from his blade to the body cooling at his back, then back again. Their discipline was better than he expected; none bolted immediately, though their footing betrayed nerves.

The first two lunged.

They weren't slow, not really – but compared to Zhang, it was like fighting children with sticks. Jiang moved almost lazily – sidestep, thrust, twist. Their blades met his once, twice, before his cut split through a guard's ribs and sent the other staggering back with blood on his sleeve. The ease of it made his stomach twist in a strange mix of satisfaction and unease.

The last two faltered. They weren't cowards; they didn't drop their weapons. But they weren't fools either. Their knuckles whitened, and their stances shifted subtly backward, like dogs baring teeth but already calculating escape routes. Another three guards entering the corridor gave them some courage, but not enough to attack – if nothing else, they knew Jiang would be able to kill at least one of them, and as such, no one wanted to be first.

"Where's the Broker?" Jiang asked, letting his voice carry down the hall.

Three of them just stared, their expressions blank with confusion, but the fourth, a man at the back with the bearing of a leader, flinched at the name.

Jiang smiled thinly. "You know."

He let shadows bleed from the walls, curling along the floorboards, snaking toward the man. It was little more than a trick – he'd never tried to solidify this many shadows at once, and somewhat doubted he had the power to at all – but they didn't know that.

The air in the hall thickened, every flicker of black stretching toward his target like living things.

That broke the others. One cursed, spat, and bolted. The last followed, boots slamming against the floor as they fled down a side corridor.

The leader, the one who reacted to the name, stayed. He was pale, sweat rolling down his temple, but he didn't move. Courage or simply the knowledge that running was pointless? Jiang didn't know, but either way, he couldn't help but feel a flicker of respect.

The man swallowed, squared his shoulders, and forced the words out. "The Broker is in his study. Second floor." His voice shook but steadied at the end. "Shall I… inform him you're coming?"

The question caught Jiang off guard. Polite. Respectful, even, though the man's fear was obvious. Jiang chuckled despite himself. "I suspect he already knows," he said dryly, "But sure, why not?"

It was easier to be confident when he knew the Broker was close by and no longer had any cards up his sleeve. If there had been another cultivator in the building, Jiang would have sensed them, which meant there was nothing the Broker could do to stop him.

Unless, of course, he has another cultivator with a stealth technique hidden away, Jiang mused to himself, following the guard leader up the stairs and ignoring the obvious tension in the man's shoulders. In which case, there's a chance I'll just randomly die with no idea what killed me.

It was a morbid thought, especially because there wasn't anything he could really do about it right now. He mentally moved getting a sensory technique up a few places on his mental list of priorities.

The guard slowed at the top of the stairs, leading Jiang to a pair of tall, polished double doors inlaid with gold trim. He stopped, straightened, then glanced nervously back.

"If you'll wait here a moment, I'll… inform the Broker of your arrival."

Jiang narrowed his eyes. Part of him wanted to shove past and be done with it. But as he sent a trickle of Qi toward his ears, the faint sound of footsteps and movement inside confirmed the Broker was already preparing. The man wasn't stalling – just clinging to formality.

"Fine," Jiang said, feeling oddly amused despite the situation. "But I trust you'll be leaving the door open."

He might be willing to play polite to a certain extent, but not if it risked the Broker getting away. Honestly, it felt like a waste of time to do this at all, but he'd already noted that he'd been getting increasingly impatient the more powerful he became. That wasn't the kind of person he wanted to be.

He leaned against the wall, casual, blade in hand. "Go on then. I'll wait. But not long."

The guard nodded stiffly, pushed open the door, and stepped inside.

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