Silas slept soundly soon after his bath. He fell face-first into his pillow and passed out. The bed was almost as comfortable as his bed back home, sleeping next to his wife. It was just an accident that he woke up to use the restroom and heard someone playing with the lock on his door. He frowned and shook his head, knowing he shouldn't have stayed here. He was now kicking himself for it.

It sounded like the person trying to get in wasn't very good at picking locks, however. Silas heard him fumbling with tools and cursing. He looked out the window. It was still dark, and Silas wondered for a moment how long till the sun broke. He didn't want to be out of the city in the dark and didn't know it well enough. Though, before any of that, he had to make sure he got out of this current situation alive.

He had been careful not to use any of his sacred arts in days. Silas wanted to make sure he could fight if he ever needed to. He wouldn't give whoever was trying to get into his room the chance to get the jump on him. The little bits of madra Silas ever used were just to cycle so he could lift his hammer and when he had to store his hammer in his storage ring. Silas rolled out of bed, enforcing himself with all the madra he had, grabbed his war hammer, lifted it quickly like he used to, and moved to the door.

The person playing with the door seemed to stop for a moment. Was Silas too loud? It was possible. Silas stayed still a moment, and then the door jiggling returned. It didn't take the person much longer before Silas heard a click, and the door slowly opened. Lifting the hammer from his shoulder, he grinned and swung the hammer right for the door, putting everything he had into the blow.

The door swung backward with the impact and then exploded from the force of Silas's blow. He heard a cry and a thud, followed by a gurgling noise. Silas peeked out from the door frame, and there was a crumpled form on the floor across from him in the hallway.

He blinked and stared at the state of the person he smashed for a moment before leaning against the door frame, feeling tired. That took too much from him, more than Silas expected it to. He sighed a bit. It was too soon to take the third pill that Master Eichi had given him, and he had seen minimal results from it, to begin with.

Finally, shaking off the feeling, he pushed himself from the door frame and walked towards the man crumpled in the corner. That seemed to be too easy to deal with. You'd think someone whose father sent to kill him would be more powerful, and that's precisely what he expected this person to be. Then he had a flash of warning in the back of his head, and he looked left and ducked just in time. Three small metal knives materialized from thin air and sent hurling through the air towards Silas's face. It seemed it was a little more complicated than he initially expected.

"Your father sends his regards," was all the man said before he charged Silas.

Silas grunted and stood to his full height, holding the war hammer in front of him, watching the man run to him. An immovable force meets an unstoppable object. Silas dug his heels in and grinned, holding the hammer at the ready in both hands.

The man ducked Silas's oncoming hammer swing and slid underneath and between Silas's legs, then leaped back to his feet behind Silas. Before Silas could turn around, he felt metal-reinforced fists pounding into his back, sending him flying forward with a loud yell. Some of the other people in the hotel woke up and opened their doors, checking to see what was going on in the hallway. When they saw Silas stumbling through the hall and land face-first on the floor, they promptly slammed the doors shut. People didn't interfere when cultivators fought. Eventually, the city guard might get called, but until then, the people wanted nothing to do with the altercation.

His attacker didn't give Silas any time to recover when he fell. He instantly leapt to Silas's back and put a hand on his forehead, pulling it back. A dagger formed in the attacker's free hand. Silas had to admit. The man had superb control over his madra.

"Where's the old lady?!" Silas demanded of the attacker as if he had any right to be demanding anything from the man who could quickly kill him.

Silas had nothing left. The pitiful amounts of madra he could cultivate and hold onto in his channels were already gone, since he couldn't access his core without feeling additional pain. This attacker got the better of Silas in the fight, but Silas had to know. He had to know if the crone was actually around this area, if he had gotten this close to answers, only to be killed.

The answer never came, though. Instead of an answer, Silas just heard the man yell, and then Silas's head was free from the grip. Silas could flip over to his back. His hammer was now left forgotten next to him as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. Silas had a bit of a shadow, thanks to the moonlight shining through the windows in the hallway. This shadow was once again defending him from an attacker he couldn't have fought off.

The shadow was punching and kicking the man down the hall. Soundlessly, effortlessly, until the man had blood leaking from his mouth, nose, and even from the corners of his eyes. The shadow enveloped the man and seemed to tighten around the would-be assassin. It only lasted a minute longer, and the killer was gone. Silas's shadow was now back on the wall beside Silas like nothing had happened.

Silas stared at his shadow on the wall and stood still, staring. "What the…?" was all he could mumble.

Finally, some city guards ran into the hotel and upstairs, finding Silas standing in his undergarments, standing over the man Silas crushed in his initial attack. Silas looked up to see three guards at the head of the stairs with their swords drawn.

"What happened?!" they demanded of him.

Silas knew he couldn't say anything about the second man who attacked him, the more powerful of the duo, since that man was gone, eaten up by his shadow.

"This man broke into my room and tried to kill me," Silas pointed to the crushed person crumpled over as he spoke.

One guard approached Silas and removed their helmet. It turned out their captain was a female. It was hard to tell in the armor they wore and the helmets. Captain Anya was a cultivator, though maybe not far along in her path. She had brown hair and matching almond eyes and was perhaps a head shorter than he was, but she still commanded respect with her gaze and her sureness of herself.

Silas raised a palm and smiled at the woman. "Call me Silas, Captain. Give me a moment to put some clothes on." There was no point in fighting them and not going. If he went, he might try to find some answers. So Silas calmly reached down and lifted the staff of his hammer, but grunted a little and found himself unable to lift it entirely. So he just dragged it back into his room.

A few minutes later, he followed the three guards down the stairs and out into the chilly night air, dressed in the spare robes the school gave him. The robes were shades of green to match the school's name and the color of the mountains that gave the school its name. He was dragging his hammer behind him, letting it thud and clomp along. This earned him some strange looks from the guards, including the captain, but he didn't pay them any attention. His free hand held his robes tightly against his form. It was colder here in the north than he was used to or remembered it being, and he realized they were coming upon their snowy season.

It was a short walk until they crossed the road from the Emperor's castle into their guard station. There were a couple of cells and a couple of desks with a chair on either side.

"We are a little short-staffed in the nighttime, but we don't have many cultivators brawling in the middle of the night." The captain explained to him and then pointed to a seat she wanted him to sit in. "One of my men found out there was a second man you were fighting with. He questioned some of your neighbors in the hotel."

Silas just sat there and listened to the woman, his hammer sitting on the ground, leaning against her desk. He nodded along as she spoke. Then he finally offered, "he ran off before you three came. He was fighting a losing battle and saw his cohort crushed to death." Then he offered a shrug to the captain.

She was digging for any information to gather information about his attackers. She questioned him extensively if he knew who they were or where they came from. He told her they said nothing, just tried to pick his lock and attack him. He didn't need her to know his father, one of the empire's most powerful and influential people, sent the men to kill him.

She kept him there a while longer, and when he could finally leave, the sun was rising. He stood in front of the office and looked about. There were already people milling around the streets. Street sweepers brushed off the roadway, and others moved about their daily business. Some people head off towards the central market district to shop or work. Others head in the opposite direction. Silas dragged his hammer behind him, wondering where to go and what he should do now.

He found himself, without realizing it, across the street from the guard office to the castle gates where he was yesterday. The same guards were standing out front.

They looked a little shocked to see Silas, which, considering what the would-be assassin said, wasn't that surprising. The head guard stared, and Silas could feel him sneering at him. The other two guards stared, shocked that Silas was standing before them.

"I'm looking for Elias Zhao," was all Silas said. He looked at the guards solemnly. The fight the night before wore on him, and Silas was tired. He needed some sleep. Before he could even get his complete demand, one guard with the sword that showed him how to get to his father's office ran off into the castle. Silas frowned. This didn't bode well for him. It couldn't. Was the man getting back up? Were they going to just off him right now in the street?

It didn't take long, but Elias himself was walking to the gate. He strolled tall and proud, but each movement seemed to have a purpose. Elias was tall, thin, and, truth be told, not very built for a cultivator. He was immensely powerful, though. Silas wondered if Elias was closing in on peak cultivation, a Saint. It was like a dream to Silas, but he knew if he could fix himself, he too could reach that level of power.

Elias reached the gate and looked down at Silas with his dark eyes burning like embers. He didn't yell or speak loudly, but the words were as loud as thunder cracking in his ear. "I don't know how you survived last night, Silas, but go. You aren't welcome here. If you come to these gates again, they will kill you. I'm giving the guards a standing order to kill on sight from now on."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Silas glared at his father. "Just tell me what you found out, and I will go. You'll never see me again, just like you always wanted."

Elias closed his eyes, frowned, and then slammed on the gate bars before opening his eyes once more and staring Silas down. "Nothing, I found nothing. The old hag you spoke of was here in the city recently, and she died. That's it. Now go." Elias pointed off in the distance towards the way out of the city.

Silas stood there, stunned. Not sure what to say or what to do. He gripped the gate until his knuckles turned white, looking at his father. Silas was staring into the man's eyes, trying to tell whether he was lying.

Elias leaned in a little more now, "go."

Silas slumped a bit, but without saying another word, he turned and left the guard gate, dragging his hammer behind him.

Kenji stood on a corner, looking like a beggar in his threadbare clothes. The pants ended just above the ankles of his bare feet, and his chest was bare. His tattoo was made of shadows on his chest and neck. His coat was longer than his pants, but it also had seen better days. The blindfold over his eyes trapped some of the long black hair against his eyes. He still looked in Silas's direction, watching him walk off toward the city exit.

He stood there, hands in his pockets, ignored by the passersby on the street. They would just pass through him if they were to bump into him. Their vision would darken for when it happened, and they'd shrug it off as if it was something simple, like an icy chill.

"Plans not going the way you thought they would?" Lilith spoke up and walked up behind her younger brother, wearing her black suit of armor. The bastard sword on her back and her black warhorse were nowhere to be seen.

Kenji frowned and looked up at his older sister. "No," was all he said in his cracked voice, sourly grumbling a moment to himself.

"Someone has been playing with fate. When I put this all into motion, I looked ahead. Made sure I knew what was going to happen to a reasonable degree." Kenji now crossed his arms against his chest.

"The old woman who first warned Silas was old, sure, but she wasn't old enough to just drop dead from her heart-stopping. She wasn't that old, not for the oracles." Kenji shook his head as he explained the situation to Lilith.

Lilith stood there, her arms crossed against the metallic-plated chest, frowning, "I don't know of her death. I'll have to ask my agents, but I know nothing about it. This concerns me now."

Kenji now fully turned to face her, scowling. "That's what I told you yesterday, dear sister. I told you our siblings were up to something. We need to figure out what and put a stop to it before they go too far," he said with that cracked voice embellished by his anger.

Lilith still frowned. "Did you check your piece?" She then glared at him.

Kenji matched her glare, "no, I told you there's no way someone can steal it from my lands."

"Well, you didn't think there was a way for someone to release nightmare demons in the realm of mortals either, but here we are. Tell me, dear brother, what's the big deal if this Silas character has some of your mana, anyway? There's been cracks before, the dragons, the old lady seers. Then there are the ones we pick ourselves in that tournament, our siblings love." Lilith shrugged.

Kenji spoke, watching Silas trudge away, dragging his hammer. "Not. My. Mana. It shouldn't be here. It's too….."

Lilith had cut him off, still glaring at him, "what, powerful? Ha. Don't overestimate yourself, little brother. Your powers are no more powerful than the power of actual absolute desire or death."

Kenji sighed and relented and shook his head. She didn't understand. How could she? She was the embodiment of death. The ultimate thing all the mortals went through unless one of them reached the level known as Celestial, then they would truly be immortal.

Lilith rolled her eyes at him, then looked down at him again. "I'm going to get with my agents and find out what I can. You double-check your piece of the treasure and make sure it's still there." Then she turned and walked away from him, disappearing in a black fog.

Kenji glared and watched her leave, shaking his head. "Oh, dear sister. Fine, I will check on it to prove you wrong. I'll even bring it to you to show you," and then, just like that, Kenji seemed to melt away in a pool of shadow. When Kenji reappeared, he appeared the opposite of how he left.

Instead of melting, the shadows oozed up and formed and hardened into his appearance. Once he appeared, a phoenix flew to him, landed on his shoulder, and gave a squawk. He was standing in the broken-down manor that was his home in his realm of existence.

"Come, Shu, let us go check on the bauble." He then walked through his manor to a broken and almost gone staircase. Kenji frowned and extended his hand, forming shadows to complete the stairs as he muttered to himself about how he should get this place put back together. All his siblings had grand castles and places they called home.

Kenji chastised himself and shook his thoughts away. His time was more valuable spent working. He didn't have agents like Lilith did or old hags like Daichi to weave the strands of fate and tend to his damn garden. They were too proud of the wrong things.

He continued down the stairs as deep as they went into the core of his realm. Along the way, various nightmares and shadow demons tried to hinder his progress, but he sent them away. They were his creations. After all, if he had ultimate power anywhere, it was here in the heart of the Shadow lands.

Finally, he reached the bottom of the stairs, the phoenix still on his shoulder, hardly moving or making a sound. For as much as he could deal with the things that attacked while they went, the phoenix had to endure the attacks until Kenji sent them away.

Now he stood in front of a heavy metal black door. Swinging it open, he entered the room. The walls were brick and coated in an oozy black substance that he knew was shadow stuff. The mortal Silas played with such ooze back in his village when he woke up.

This ooze, if someone that wasn't him entered, would lash out and strangle and kill the intruder, drowning them in their nightmares and shadow. All this was to protect a small metallic chest in the middle of the room. The trunk was plain and wooden and sat on the floor.

As soon as Kenji looked at the chest, he knew something was wrong. He glared at it as if the dread washing over him would just vanish if he willed it to be so. He leaned over and opened the chest. The chest opened right away. Someone had broken in and broken the lock.

__________________

Silas walked from the city and passed through the opening gates. He went by quickly. The guards only cared who was leaving the city if there was an alert, which there wasn't. As he left the city, he walked along the trail and heard a line of wagons coming upon him. He broke his thoughts to look up and see who it was, and sure enough, he spotted the man who drove him, Ezra.

He smirked and lifted a hand, waving to him slightly. Ezra spotted him, pulled the horses' reins, and pulled them to a stop alongside Silas. Ezra looked down at Silas and narrowed his eyes. "You all done in the city already? Are you heading back down to Queping? Why don't you hop on, and you can guard us against those damn robbers, or cult members, or whatever again."

Silas looked up at Ezra and held a hand, blocking the sun from his eyes. "No, I'm not sure what I'm going to do. I received some worse than expected while in the city from the leads I had, but I don't think I'm ready to head back south. I think there's more here for me to find."

Ezra reached into the pouch next to him on his bench, pulled a pipe, and packed it. "Well, if you aren't staying in the city but want to be close to the capital, there's a hotel here up the road. It's called The Dagger's Sheath, it uh," Ezra paused and shook his head. "No, never mind. I'm not sure you'd want to stay in that hotel."

Silas cocked his eyebrow. "The Dagger's Sheath?" Silas then narrowed his eyes at the old man. "It's a whorehouse, isn't it?" He stated flatly, already knowing the answer.

Ezra grinned and chuckled a little, even waggling his eyebrows at Silas. "It is. Look, I know it's not really your kind of place, but the owner is a cultivator of some such sect. The Lotus Moon, maybe? Or something, I don't remember. One of the minor sects, anyway. He may be a friend, and with the Emperor's position on houses of ill repute, you may work out a deal where you can stay there quietly."

Still frowning, Silas looked up to Ezra and sighed deeply, "yeah, maybe."

The only problem with this idea was that Moon Lotus Pavilion, who Silas was sure Ezra was talking about, wasn't a friend to The Divine Body Sect. They weren't enemies by any means, but the Pavilion was a little unorthodox in its cultivation methods. The sect was small because few people thought the same way they did. They believed that the way to cultivate and go down your path was to live in excess.

Whatever the person believed was the way to master the sacred arts, they did it to the extreme. This wasn't a new thought. At one point in his life, Silas did nothing but train and progress down his path. These Sacred Artists, however, went about it a little differently. Instead of simply training, they would eat, lust, or whatever else they thought was the key to excess. So, of course, it made sense that the Pavilion operated a whorehouse.

Ezra interrupted his thoughts. "Look, I'm not an idiot. You're being run out of the city, and it's a thought. You can go drown in the river or freeze in the woods if you'd like. Winter is coming to this area, and it's coming quickly. If you need a place to stay, my guess is that's going to be your best bet. I need to be moving if you aren't coming with me. The caravan is already too far ahead for me to catch up easily. You think about it, and if you find yourself back in Okuhama, look me up and say hello."

Then, just like that, Ezra got his horses galloping again, moving his wagon along. Silas watched the wagon moving along quicker than usual, so it could catch up with the rest of the caravan, who didn't bother stopping or even slowing when Ezra stopped. They might not even notice he lagged since he was the last wagon in the line. Ezra must still be punished for being late when they first left. He then saw what he guessed was this whorehouse Ezra sent him to, off in the distance, on a small hill not too far off the main road. There sat a small building. Two or three stories tall with a fence marking its land and a sign Silas could barely make out from here. Silas sighed and started heading towards the establishment, dragging his hammer behind him.