The road to Valen City is long, but not empty.

A steady line of people moves toward the gates, merchants with carts, travelers on foot, and a few cultivators walking with quiet confidence. Dust rises with every step, hanging lightly in the air under the afternoon sun.

Among them, Aiden walks without drawing attention.

A dark robe covers his body, the hood pulled low enough to shadow most of his face. From a distance, he looks no different from any other traveler trying to enter the city.

No one spares him a second glance.

That’s exactly how he prefers it.

Ahead, the walls of Valen City rise tall and intact, untouched by war. Guards stand at the entrance, checking the incoming flow, though not too strictly. The line moves at a steady pace.

People talk.

Not in whispers.

Just normal conversation.

"...heard something about the sect fighting again."

"Yeah, but that’s nothing new."

"They said it’s serious this time."

A man laughs.

"When is it not serious? It’s the Clear Water Sect. They always make it sound big."

Another voice joins in.

"They’ll handle it. They always do."

Aiden listens quietly.

His expression doesn’t change beneath the robe.

The citizens don’t look worried.

If anything, they look used to it.

To them, the Clear Water Sect isn’t just a power.

It’s protection.

A certainty.

A group that has never failed them.

A woman holding a basket shakes her head slightly.

"I heard it’s some unknown force," she says. "No one knows where they came from."

An older man beside her scoffs.

"Unknown or not, it won’t matter," he replies. "The sect has people at peak body tempering. Who could possibly stand against that?"

Someone else chuckles.

"Exactly. People worry too much. By the time we wake up tomorrow, it’ll probably be over."

A few nod in agreement.

The mood stays light.

Almost careless.

Aiden’s eyes shift slightly, glancing at the people around him.

There’s no tension.

No fear.

Just blind confidence.

He looks ahead again.

The gates grow closer.

From here, he can see the insignia carved above the entrance, a flowing pattern resembling water in motion, elegant and refined.

Clear Water Sect.

Even from this distance, the presence of the sect can be felt.

Not directly.

But through the way the city stands.

He steps forward as the line moves.

The guards at the entrance check a few people, ask simple questions, then wave them through.

When it’s his turn, one of the guards glances at him briefly.

"Name?" the guard asks.

"A traveler," Aiden replies calmly.

The guard looks at him for a second longer, then shrugs.

Not important.

"Purpose?"

"Passing through."

Another pause.

Then the guard waves him in.

"Move along."

Aiden steps past the gates.

Inside, Valen City is alive.

The streets are clean, well-maintained, lined with shops and banners bearing the sect’s emblem. Disciples in light blue robes can be seen moving through the streets, their presence drawing subtle respect from the civilians.

Everything looks normal.

Peaceful.

As if nothing is wrong.

Aiden walks forward at a steady pace, blending into the flow of the crowd.

But his gaze is different now.

He isn’t here to admire the city.

He’s here to measure it.

The reason Aiden came to Valen City is simple. He wants to see it with his own eyes. Rumors are one thing, reports are another, but neither compares to standing inside the place itself, feeling how it breathes, how it moves.

If he plans to deal with the Clear Water Sect, he needs to understand them first.

Right now, he cannot fight them head-on.

Not yet.

That much is clear just from the way the city carries itself. Order like this does not come from weak hands. The sect’s influence runs deep, woven into every street, every guard post, every calm expression on the faces of the people.

Aiden walks slowly through the streets, blending in with the crowd while quietly observing everything around him.

Disciples pass by in groups, their robes clean, their posture straight. Even the weakest among them carries a certain confidence, the kind that comes from belonging to something powerful.

Shops are open.

Business continues.

Nothing feels strained.

If there is a war happening, it is far from here.

Aiden’s eyes narrow slightly beneath his hood.

"Confident," he murmurs to himself.

Or arrogant.

Either way, it works in his favor.

He doesn’t rush.

Instead, he turns down a wider street lined with larger establishments. The crowd here is thinner, but the quality of goods is noticeably higher. Weapons, armor, artifacts. Things meant for practitioners, not ordinary citizens.

That’s where he’s headed.

An armory.

The building stands solid and well-maintained, its entrance framed with dark wood and reinforced iron. Several weapons are displayed behind the open front, polished blades catching the light.

A faint metallic scent lingers in the air.

He steps inside.

The noise of the street fades behind him, replaced by the quiet hum of a working shop. Racks of weapons line the walls. Swords, spears, sabers. Some simple, some refined.

A man stands behind the counter, broad-shouldered, with arms marked by years of forging and handling weapons. He looks up the moment Aiden enters.

His eyes linger on the robe for a second.

Then he speaks.

"Looking for something?"

Aiden walks deeper into the shop, his gaze moving across the displayed weapons.

"A sword," he says.

The shop owner nods.

"Budget?"

Aiden pauses slightly.

"Give me something good."

The man lets out a small breath, almost amused.

"Everyone wants something good," he says. "Question is, how good can you afford?"

Aiden doesn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he steps closer to a rack of blades, picking one up. He holds it loosely, then gives it a light swing.

The movement is smooth.

Controlled.

The blade hums faintly.

He sets it back down.

"Show me your best within reason," Aiden says.

The shop owner watches him more carefully now.

That single motion was enough.

This isn’t a random buyer.

"Alright," the man says, turning and walking toward the back. "Wait here."

Aiden stands still, hands behind his back, eyes scanning the shop once more.

A few other customers are present, but none pay him much attention.

Moments later, the shop owner returns.

In his hands is a sword wrapped in cloth. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

He places it on the counter and slowly unwraps it.

The blade underneath is clean and sharp, the edge gleaming under the light. The metal carries a faint ripple pattern.

Not flashy.

But solid.

"This one," the shop owner says. "Refined steel, reinforced with special materials during forging. Balanced, durable, and it won’t shatter in a real fight."

Aiden steps closer.

He picks it up.

The weight settles into his hand naturally.

He gives it a slow swing, and the air parts cleanly.

A faint sound follows, not loud, but precise.

Aiden’s eyes narrow slightly.

This will do.

"Name your price." he asks.

The shop owner names it without hesitation.

Aiden doesn’t react.

He simply nods once.

"I’ll take it."

The man studies him for a brief moment, then gives a small grin.

"Good choice."

Aiden places the payment down without bargaining.

He takes the sword, wrapping it again before securing it at his side beneath the robe.

As he turns to leave, his thoughts are already moving ahead.

He didn’t come here just to buy a weapon.

This is only the first step.

Because if he can’t face them directly...

Then he’ll find another way.

Aiden steps back onto the street, the noise of the city rushing in again around him.

Vendors calling out.

Footsteps echoing across stone.

He walks without a clear direction, letting the flow of the city guide him while his eyes continue to scan his surroundings.

Then something catches his attention.

Up ahead, a crowd has formed.

Not just a few people.

Dozens.

Maybe more.

They gather around a building with a wide entrance, voices overlapping, some curious, some amused, some just there to see what the noise is about.

Aiden slows slightly.

Crowds like this don’t form without a reason.

He moves closer, slipping between people without drawing attention, his robe brushing lightly against shoulders as he passes.

From inside the building, a loud voice echoes.

"Come take a look! A rare item infused with qi! Not something you see every day!"

Aiden stops just at the edge of the crowd.

His eyes narrow slightly.

Qi-infused item?

He turns his head slightly and looks at a man standing nearby, someone who looks like he’s been watching for a while.

"What’s happening here?" Aiden asks.

The man glances at him, then shrugs casually.

"Some merchant trying his luck," he says. "Claims he’s selling an item that contains qi."

Aiden raises a brow under his hood.

"Oh?" he says. "Is it real?"

The man snorts.

"Real?" he repeats, clearly amused. "No chance."

He shifts his weight, folding his arms.

"Stuff like that doesn’t just show up in places like this. If it were real, it wouldn’t be sold in some noisy shop with half the city watching."

Aiden says nothing, letting him continue.

The man tilts his head toward the building.

"If it’s actually something valuable, it would already be in an auction house," he says. "Or bought directly by the Clear Water Sect before anyone else even hears about it."

A few people nearby nod in agreement.

"Exactly."

"Who would be stupid enough to sell a real qi item like this?"

"It’s probably just a trick."

The man chuckles.

"All the time, these things are fake. A little trick, they can’t even give proof, they are just trying to fool people who don’t know better."

Aiden looks toward the entrance again.

Inside, the merchant’s voice grows louder, more dramatic.

"I guarantee its authenticity! Feel the energy for yourself!"