And run she did. Rather, she danced. Fire phoenixes and ice phoenixes gathered around her, speeding up her arms, her legs, her entire body as she swerved between swords, sickles, chains, and daggers. Poisonous needles burst out around her, not aiming for anything in particular but trying to cover as much ground as possible. She rushed through all of these, evading them as she made for the only exit in the encirclement, the one Mistress Huang had created in her last burst of power before she’d been killed.
She ran with everything she had. The encirclement tightened as the Spectral Assassins flitted between real and unreal, their ethereal forms fast and unpredictable. She killed one, two, and three as she raced toward the closing gap, finally making it to the final stretch. And then, just as she was about to break out into the open air, something struck her in the chest.
It was a hammer, weighing far more than any hammer had a reason to. Her qi shields, weakened by her activities earlier when she’d destroyed the Oath Stone, barely resisted before finally breaking, allowing the hammer to strike true. She saw stars as she sank toward the ground.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” a voice said. “We can’t have you dying on us. Not after spending all that money to find out just who you were.”
Just who I am? Hong Xin thought. I’m no one. Then she saw it. Golden hair speckled with white. The hair wasn’t Wang Jun’s but an older man’s. The Spectral Assassins parted for the older figure, who smiled genially as he summoned a pill and forced it into her mouth despite her protests.
No, not this, she thought. Not this.
She’d thought she’d be safe by going to Wang Jun. It seemed she’d been terribly wrong. Panicking, she moved to circulate her qi. Not in a cultivating pattern, nor in a combat pattern; she circulated in a self-destructive, life-ending pattern. Anything would be better than getting caught by them and used against him.
Unfortunately, her qi didn’t move. It was only then that she noticed a few purple smudges on her arms and legs where she’d been struck by stray chains. The poison didn’t kill; it inhibited qi. She glared at the man, who simply smiled as he kneeled beside her, watching her ribs heal up over the next few seconds.
“The venom is very difficult to manufacture,” the man said. “It’s very expensive, and it uses properties of karma to bind qi. Further, anyone affected by it will quickly build an immunity. It’s far less reliable than qi-binding manacles but much easier to apply forcefully.”
“Go to hell,” Hong Xin spat, twisting to escape the chains binding her.
“But even qi-binding manacles can be escaped,” the man mused, ignoring her struggles. “Therefore, I’ll have to use a more… permanent solution.” He took out a dagger, its gray blade shining with red runes. Then he stabbed it into the middle of her chest. She gasped as it pierced not flesh, but something she’d thought unreachable—her Dantian. It pierced directly into the independent space and struck her core of ice and fire, shattering it. The space around it collapsed and lost all relation to her.
“What have you done?” she gasped, seeing her qi seep out of her body, her qi pathways drying up as her qi withdrew into the collapsing Dantian.
“Crippling someone’s cultivation is tricky,” the man explained, still smiling. “And often wasteful. After all, why not just kill someone, when crippling them might cost ten times or a hundred times more?” He answered his own question. “Your life, fortunately, is worth so much more. Your agony as well. The Spectral Assassins were fortunate to have clients willing to pay for both.”
He waved his hand, and one of the Spectral Assassins clamped a black-and-red collar around her throat, completely restraining her resplendent force. “Unfortunately, crippling a soul is nigh impossible without killing the victim. Therefore, we can only rely on these crude means.”
“You’re a monster,” Hong Xin said between gritted teeth. “And you work with monsters. Your soul will be damned for all eternity. It’s no wonder he hates you so much.”
The man pulled the dagger out of her chest. The gray artifact, which had fulfilled its purpose, was now dull and lifeless, its red runes faded.
“Better to live a monster than die a hero,” the man said, shrugging. “We all do what we must, both for ourselves and our families.”
“Hypocrite,” Hong Xin spat.
“No, I think not,” he replied. “Trust me, I take no pleasure in this. But my dear junior has forced my hand. He’s ruining a plan three hundred years in the making, and I will not stand by and do nothing. He needs to be controlled, and you’ll serve just fine.”
“He’ll never give in,” Hong Xin said. “He might have once, but no longer.”
“We’ll see,” Wang Wuling said, chuckling lightly.
Darkness took her.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The clock ticked away the time to Wang Jun’s morning meeting. He’d scheduled it for later today, as he’d been busy completing some important paperwork. There was much business to be done, much money to be made. Especially given how cooperative everyone had been lately, even without his interference.
There’s something to be said for underhanded means, Wang Jun thought. They get results, and you don’t always have to use them. Now, just the thought of his threats caused his targets to capitulate on demand. Of course, it helped that a mysterious assassin was aiding his cause, weakening targets he was trying to acquire. He had no idea who was doing it. He had even less of a clue as to who was killing people from the Icy Heart Pavilion, and for what reason. They were connected, he had no doubt about it.
Elder Bai would be coming soon. He moved to brew some tea in advance, partially due to thirst
