Chapter 1: A heart wrenching reunion

On the Xuantian Continent lies Night Raven Ridge.

The Xuantian Continent is a world of soul cultivation, where people spend their entire lives seeking to comprehend the essence of this art. Night Raven Ridge, located in the northern part of the continent, is a notorious danger zone.

Its peril doesn’t come from its height or treacherous terrain, but from the flock of man-eating ravens that dwell in the gorge below. According to legend, someone once accidentally fell off the cliff. Before their companions could react, the person was already swarmed by countless ravens. By the time they hit the ground, nothing was left but a pile of white bones.

Although the ravens live at the bottom of the gorge, no one can guarantee they won’t suddenly fly up. As a result, Night Raven Ridge is a desolate place, perpetually abandoned and void of human presence.

But at this moment, Night Raven Ridge was unusually bustling.

The endless ridge was shrouded in the eerie chill of the mountain wind, with dusk’s fading glow casting weak rays that offered no warmth. Instead, the mournful cries of the ravens from below sent shivers down the spine.

Standing atop the ridge were thirteen men dressed in black. Each one wore a cold iron mask, their figures concealed beneath dark robes. Apart from the striking golden ice-flower patterns embroidered on their garments, there was nothing to identify them.

These thirteen men stood in an arc formation, facing the steep edge of Night Raven Ridge as if they were surrounding someone.

That someone was a handsome young man in white, around seventeen or eighteen years old. His silk robes fluttered gently in the cold wind. The youth stood with calm composure, unshaken by the bottomless abyss behind him, exuding the air of a superior being, commanding both awe and respect.

His sharp gaze bore into the group of black-robed figures, his eyes gleaming with a proud defiance, as if he could see through all the illusions of the world.

This young man’s name was Mu Feng, a diligent yet ordinary soul cultivator. He had come here today for an appointment, but it was evident that he had fallen into someone’s trap.

"Boy from the Mu family, hand over the Divine Map!" one of the black-robed figures demanded, his voice deliberately altered with spiritual energy, making it sound strange and unnatural.

Mu Feng's deep eyes remained calm as he surveyed the patterns on their robes. A trace of disdain curled his lips, and he let out a cold laugh. "With your outfits... Are you trying to imitate the Ice Spring Sect's 'Hidden Blade Thirteen Assassins'?"

The Ice Spring Sect was one of the most powerful forces on the continent, and their thirteen Hidden Blades were renowned for their exceptional skills. Mu Feng's Qinghe Sect had long been rivals with the Ice Spring Sect, with endless conflicts spanning over a century. In his mind, the Hidden Blades were a proud and solitary bunch who never teamed up for an ambush like this. Their arrogance wouldn’t allow it.

Whoosh!

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One of the black-robed men pointed at Mu Feng, unleashing a blast of chilling sword energy.

Mu Feng stood as still as a mountain, calmly watching the trajectory of the attack. Just before it reached him, he sidestepped ever so slightly, avoiding it effortlessly.

Feeling the coldness in the sword energy, Mu Feng's brows furrowed slightly. It was indeed the unique Ice Spring Sect’s Ice Spring Chill. Doubt flashed in his mind. "Could it be someone from within the Ice Spring Sect impersonating the Hidden Blades?"

While Mu Feng pondered, the thirteen black-robed men all drew their swords. The leader spoke again, “This is your last chance—hand over the Divine Map.”

Mu Feng's gaze turned cold as he pulled out a dark-orange silk cloth from his storage ring. He glanced at it indifferently, waving it around as if it were a rag. "I've studied this rag for a while now and haven’t figured out anything from it. But it wasn’t easy to acquire, and it would be a shame to lose it. Unfortunately for you, I’m in a bad mood today. I’d rather throw it off this cliff than hand it over to you."

The leader's eyes narrowed as he saw the slightly worn Divine Map in Mu Feng's hand. He rushed forward in a flash, trying to seize it.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The two exchanged several moves in quick succession. Despite the black-robed man's aggressive assault, Mu Feng remained calm, barely shifting his stance. Not only did he easily evade the man's sword, but with a casual palm strike, he forced him to retreat.

The leader stumbled back to his original position, barely keeping his footing. His eyes were filled with apprehension as he stared at Mu Feng. “Just as the Young Master predicted,” he thought to himself. “How has this boy’s cultivation advanced so much in such a short time?” While silently admiring his Young Master’s foresight, he also steeled his resolve—this person must be eliminated today, or he would become a serious threat in the future.

Seeing the man’s disheveled state, Mu Feng laughed arrogantly, exuding an air of superiority. "You think you can take this rag from me? Come on, all thirteen of you, attack me together!"

Although Mu Feng couldn’t figure out their true identity, he deliberately provoked them to test their origins.

"Such arrogance! If we all attack together, you’re dead for sure!" the leader declared confidently.

"You’re really thinking of yourselves as Hidden Blades, huh?" Mu Feng sneered, though he was secretly on guard. If all thirteen attacked him at once, even he might not emerge unscathed.

But that didn’t mean he would back down.

Their ambush and scheming had crossed his bottom line. Now, he was ready to kill.

“If you have the guts, come at me!” Mu Feng put away the Divine Map, his gaze turning even sharper as a black sword appeared in his hand, pointing directly at the group.

The sword was jet black, thin, soft, and light, swaying in the wind as if fragile. Yet, the atmosphere around Night Raven Ridge instantly became tense.

Seeing the sword, the black-robed men instinctively stepped back, eyes wide with fear. It wasn’t Mu Feng they feared—it was the sword in his hand.

“The Night Feather Sword?! How can it be in your possession?” the leader gasped, recognizing the terrifying weapon.

A cold smile tugged at Mu Feng’s lips as he donned a dark silver eye mask. The black-robed men trembled at the sight of his composed yet elegant gesture.

“This can’t be possible!”

“Is he truly the Night Feather Swordmaster?”

“If he is that ruthless killer... then today, we are...”

A sense of doom hung over the black-robed men.

The leader, though terrified, tried to suppress his fear. "Stay calm! Just because we’re impersonating doesn’t mean he’s not faking it too!"

“Impersonating?” The others relaxed slightly, but their anxiety persisted. The Night Feather Swordmaster’s reputation was not one to be faked. How could such an extraordinary figure be impersonated?

Sensing his comrades' faltering morale, the leader gritted his teeth and urged, "Don’t panic! The Young Master foresaw this. Remember, we have a backup plan. Even if he is the Night Feather Swordmaster, it won’t matter!"

The mention of their 'Young Master' brought a semblance of calm to the group. Clearly, this mysterious figure held a terrifying authority over them, enough to inspire a willingness to fight to the death.

Mu Feng, who had been puzzled by today’s events, now pieced it together. He had fallen into the trap of this so-called 'Young Master,' who had lured him to this desolate place with the intent to kill him quietly.

But who was this 'Young Master'?

A serene, ethereal figure flashed through his mind—a woman of unparalleled beauty, radiating a holy aura. It was her letter that had led him here today. Though she hadn’t shown up as planned, Mu Feng didn’t believe she was involved in this scheme.

Perhaps, she too was in danger.

The leader of the black-robed men took a few steps forward, opening a 'Soul Bag' in front of Mu Feng. Unlike ordinary storage tools, the Soul Bag could temporarily store living beings, making it far superior to common storage rings.

Smirking coldly, the leader taunted, “We knew you wouldn’t hand over the Divine Map willingly, so we’ve prepared a little gift for you.”

Mu Feng’s heart sank with unease as he watched the Soul Bag expand. A woman in green robes tumbled out, collapsing onto the ground. Despite her disheveled hair and haggard appearance, her gentle beauty still shone through. Even with her hands bound tightly, her eyes remained full of defiance and strength.

Seeing the bloodstains on her clothes, Mu Feng’s chest tightened. His gaze shifted downwards, and his heart clenched in agony as he noticed the empty space beneath her skirt—her once slender, graceful legs had been severed.

Her legs...were gone

"Senior Sister Yihan!" Mu Feng’s voice cracked with grief.