The Path No One Saw

Chapter 20: A Blade in the Dark

The skies near Wu City stirred—not from clouds, but from wings.

Two massive flying spirit beasts hovered just beyond the city's barrier wards. Their feathers shimmered with streaks of azure and silver, stirring the air like low thunder.

Upon their backs stood fifteen figures cloaked in muted robes—disguised travelers to the casual eye. But beneath those layers, the truth was clear. Each robe bore, hidden but unmistakable, the emblem of the Lei Clan—one of the three great mountain forces, hailing from Stormrise Mountain.

At the front, standing calmly on the lead beast's head, was Lei Jinghong, Fifth Elder of the Lei Clan. His eyes—steady and cold like lightning behind clouds—swept across the distant walls of Wu City.

"Land outside the city walls," he ordered, his voice sharp as drawn steel. "And hide your clan tokens. For now, we're just passing travelers."

At his command, the beasts began their slow descent.

A junior's voice broke the wind. "But Fifth Elder," said a youth with a frown etched deep into his face, "Why should we hide? Are we afraid of the Wu Clan?"

Jinghong didn't look back.

"Hanwu, it's not the Wu Clan I fear," he replied calmly. "It's the Verdant Kingdom's royal family. If we parade in as Lei Clan cultivators and provoke unnecessary conflict—especially in their territory—it won't remain a clan matter. It'll become a war. One mountain against another. And no one, not even the Clan Leader, wants that."

He paused.

"And besides… the Wu Clan hasn't sent a single junior to the city's duel rings in the past three years. If we show up challenging them outright, it'll look like bullying. Or worse—an act of war."

Before Hanwu could respond, another voice cut in, this one laced with scorn.

"He speaks like someone who wasn't there last time," sneered Lei Zhenyu, a leaner youth with sharp silver eyes. "You didn't see that brat from the Wu Clan—Wu Yuan. He rejected the Fifth Elder's offer right to his face, gave no courtesy, no fear. And you think that's something we just forget?"

Lei Hanwu blinked. "You mean that crippled ghost? The one they said would never cultivate again?"

"The very same. And if you think that was nothing, you clearly haven't learned how to carry the pride of the Lei Clan."

Hanwu scoffed, voice low and bitter. "So we traveled all this way for that brat? To reclaim some bruised dignity? Why not just crush the entire Wu Clan if they're so weak?"

The two glared at each other, tension crackling like static in the air. These weren't just petty insults. This was a rivalry forged deep—two top talents from rival bloodlines, both chasing the same crown within the Lei Clan.

Tension crackled in clenched fists and narrowed eyes. Even the spirit beasts began to growl, sensing the spike in killing intent.

Until—

"Enough!"

Lei Jinghong's voice cracked like thunder.

"If you want to fight, do it back in Stormrise, where the elders will shatter your bones and bury your pride in the snow."

Silence fell like a hammer. The juniors froze.

Jinghong stepped forward, robes fluttering as the spirit beast finally touched ground. His next words carried more weight than steel.

"This isn't just my command," he said, his tone edged with cold finality. "This is the will of the Clan Leader."

The effect was instant.

Every junior present straightened. No one dared speak.

Because everyone knew—when the Clan Leader's will was invoked, it wasn't just an order. It was a warning. And this warning, though addressed to the juniors, was clearly meant for someone else.

The Second Elder.

Head of the rival faction within the Lei Clan. Father of Hanwu.

And while Jinghong didn't say it aloud, his gaze said enough:

If anyone has a problem… they can take it up with the Clan Leader.

And be prepared to lose everything.

That was enough.

Without another word, the group changed into simple travel robes, concealing every sign of their affiliation. One by one, they passed through the gates of Wu City.

But before the Lei Clan could reach the heart of the city, news found them first.

Two headlines struck like lightning.

Wu Yuan—just eight years old—is currently dueling two Level 5 Body Tempering cultivators. First a Jiang Clan genius, then a Shan Clan prodigy. One after another.

And he has not lost.

Lei Jinghong halted mid-step.

Behind him, several juniors froze, faces painted with disbelief.

Two shocks, delivered one after another. The first—Wu Yuan was fighting in the city's duel ring, after three years of silence from the Wu Clan.The second—he was winning.

Jinghong's eyes narrowed.

"So… the turtle wasn't sleeping," he murmured. "It was molting."

His mind raced. Level 1 just twenty days ago, and now Wu Yuan stood toe-to-toe with two Level 5 cultivators? That wasn't progress—it was a violation of cultivation logic.

Jinghong's breath sharpened. This wasn't natural.

Around him, whispers stirred among the Lei juniors. Most had arrived in Wu City wearing smug confidence, eager to trample a fading clan's pride and showcase their dominance. None had expected this—Wu Yuan, a junior from the declining Wu Clan, now standing at the center of the stage… outmatching opponents both older and stronger than him.

There was no sense to it.

Unless something was hiding behind this growth.Something unnatural.Something dangerous.

Jinghong's gaze lingered on the city ahead. He had imagined this visit as a routine pressure tactic. A warning. A reminder that Stormrise Mountain's Lei Clan could not be taken lightly.

But this?

This changed everything.

The Wu Clan hadn't shown a single junior in the duel rings for three years.

Which meant only one thing.

Wu Yuan had been forged in silence. A storm hidden beneath still waters.

His jaw tightened.

"Is this… really Wu City?" one of the juniors muttered, glancing uneasily around the streets. "This is the Wu Clan's territory?"

Jinghong didn't respond immediately. His thoughts were tangled, unsettled.

At last, he nodded. "Yes. This is Wu City."

But even he was no longer certain.

Something here had shifted beneath the surface. Something that threatened the Lei Clan's assumptions. Something… carefully concealed.

"Let's confirm it," Jinghong said suddenly, turning on his heel."We're not here for sightseeing. The dueling platform awaits.If that boy truly stands against Level 5s, then we need to see it with our own eyes."

The juniors fell in line behind him, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on their earlier arrogance. Several glanced toward the older elders, searching for reassurance—but found only silence. And in Jinghong's expression, a shadow of doubt.

He had only one question in mind now:

How could Wu Yuan, a so-called Level 1 body tempering realm cultivator, have reached this point in mere days?

Moments later, they entered Wu City's main square. The duel ring loomed at the center—stone, elevated, sacred.

They arrived just in time.

The battle's final exchange was already underway.

On the stage, Wu Yuan stood tall, sleeves fluttering in the wind, his expression calm and unwavering. The aura of a Level 4 Body Tempering Realm cultivator pulsed steadily from his frame. Across from him, the Shan Clan's representative lay crumpled on the stone, groaning—his body broken by the clash.

The crowd was stunned into silence.

One of the Lei juniors whispered, "He's... Level 4. And he's beating Level 5s."

Another frowned, voice tense. "That's the same brat from twenty days ago, isn't it? From when we first arrived."

"Can't be," someone muttered instinctively.

But Jinghong stepped forward, his gaze hardening.

"It's him," he said flatly.

And then, quieter:

"The one with the lightning root."

A hush followed.

Though his words were directed at no one in particular, everyone understood the message. Especially the man standing quietly at the rear—the Second Elder.

Jinghong didn't turn to face him. He didn't need to.

The Second Elder's silence was confirmation enough.

This wasn't just about a duel anymore.This was about bloodlines. About control. About who had the stronger claim to the Lei Clan's future.

Jinghong exhaled slowly.

"Enough gawking," he said at last. His voice snapped the juniors back to order."We've seen what we came for."

He turned away from the platform, robes swaying in the wind.

"Come. There's a place I know."

The Lei Clan followed.

But behind their measured steps was one undeniable truth:

The storm they had come to unleash... had already arrived.

Moments later, the Lei Clan entourage entered Peace Water Pavilion, the most renowned restaurant in Wu City. The moment they arrived, the staff bowed with respectful smiles—after all, the establishment was backed by the Wu Clan, and these guests carried the subtle grace of nobles, even if their identities were cloaked.

Inside the private upper rooms, they found more than just good wine. Awaiting them was the Wu Clan's famed Ten-Herb Spirit Wine—a lower-grade variant of the legendary Hundred-Herb Spirit Wine, considered one of the finest in the entire Verdant Kingdom. The Hundred-Herb version was near-mythical, sold only by the jar at a staggering price of 100 gold coins. Even the Ten-Herb version, priced at 10 gold coins a jar, was beyond the reach of most. Ten gold coins could buy a low-grade Yellow Rank technique—or an entire month's income for a modest cultivator. Yet here, it was served without hesitation, alongside platters of freshly roasted spirit beast meat, glistening with marrow glaze and charred herbs.

Beside that, they found stories.

The waiter, eager to impress, spoke freely of recent events.

"Wu Yuan? Ah, Young Master Wu Yuan has shocked the entire city! Each day since the tenth, he's taken challenges from the Jiang and Shan juniors. One by one—he beat them down."

By the tenth day—Level 3. By the twenty-first—Level 4. Not a single loss

The juniors of the Lei Clan exchanged glances, the flicker of disbelief in their eyes now turning into something else—wariness.

Another waiter leaned in with a grin. "You know, the Jiang and Shan Clans even joined hands just to defeat Young Master Wu Yuan. Said he was the last pride of the Wu Clan's younger generation."

He chuckled. "Still, the result stayed the same. Quick punch. No wasted movements. They didn't even get a second round."

The room went quiet for a beat.

Even the crackle of the roasted spirit beast meat seemed to soften as the words settled into the air like thunderclouds before a storm.

No one spoke—but their thoughts were loud.

The waiter, voice laced with barely restrained pride, added—perhaps too proudly:

"And the Shan Clan's strongest junior—just ten years old, awakened his talent two years ago and already at Level 5—knocked out in a single exchange today."

He gave a meaningful pause, letting the silence fill with awe.

"Now that the Mu and Tu Clans are avoiding the duels," he continued with a grin, "only Jiang Baoyu is left among the ten-year-old elites. And Young Master Yuan—who's just eight—is already defeating them one by one. Once Jiang falls, no one under ten can match him."

At that, Lei Hanwu scoffed, loud and sharp, leaning back in his chair with exaggerated disinterest.

"Heh. Strongest under ten?" Hanwu scoffed. "He's only eight, so what? There are ten-year-olds who could crush him. You Wu Clan fools are celebrating too early."

The waiter stiffened.

Hanwu's tone darkened, voice carrying across the room.

"Still Level 4. Yes, he can defeat a few soft-bellied Level 5s. But let me tell you—there are real monsters out there. I know one. Ten years old, awakened just two year ago… and already at Level 7. Tell me again how your Young Master Yuan compares."

His words landed like daggers.

The waiters, all of Wu Clan blood, bristled. Their pride had been glowing for the first time in years, and now it was being trampled under Lei arrogance.

One of them stepped forward, fists clenched, mouth opening in a fury—

"Enough."

The cold voice of the restaurant's manager cut through the tension like a sword.

A man in dark robes stepped between the groups, bowing slightly to the Lei guests.

"I apologize for the staff's excitement. They've simply not had much to be proud of… until recently." He turned to the waiter. "You've said enough. Return to your post."

The waiter hesitated, then gave a tight nod and disappeared into the back.

The manager turned back, his expression polite—but distant.

"We hope the honored guests enjoy their stay in Wu City."

Then, without waiting for a reply, he too left.

The silence that followed was thick.

But behind that silence, something stirred:

Tension.

And respect. Even Lei Zhenyu, who had remained mostly quiet, now watched the city outside the window with thoughtful eyes.

Because whether they admitted it or not—

Wu Yuan's name was no longer just a whisper in the wind.

It was thunder on the horizon.

So the Wu Clan hadn't been idle.

They had been hiding a blade.

Now, that blade had tasted blood and was growing sharper by the day.

As the table fell into silence, the Second Elder leaned forward, a new gleam in his eye. "Fifth Elder... I have an idea."

Lei Jinghong didn't answer immediately.

The Second Elder continued, smile faint. "Let's settle down in this city for a while. Book a residence. Watch the boy. Perhaps..." he tapped the edge of his wine cup, "we'll have much to gain."

For a long moment, Fifth Elder said nothing.

Then, with a sigh, "Fine. Get the rooms."