072 Signs of Trouble

0

72 Signs of Trouble

Ironmoor City loomed before them, its towering black iron walls exuding an oppressive weight. Within, the streets bustled with merchants, artisans, and wandering cultivators. The air carried the thick scent of molten metal, punctuated by the rhythmic clang of forges.

Gu Jie led the way, her steps steady and unhurried. Dave followed closely behind, clad in full armor—helm to greaves, polished to a mirror sheen. He was here as a bodyguard, and his mere presence should be enough to dissuade unwanted attention. Unlike his lord, he was a Holy Spirit. That alone would make most think twice before provoking him.

Or, as his lord had put it, his aura was brimming with Buddhist principles—or something along those lines.

As they moved through the crowd, a voice echoed in his mind.

"How fares Ironmoor City?"

Dave blinked behind his visor.

"Oh, good, the Voice Chat works at long distances. I’ll need to test its full range later... But that’s not the point. Can you hear me, Dave?"

Dave responded at once.

"Yes, My Lord."

Gu Jie gave him a sidelong glance. “What is it?”

His lord’s voice returned.

"A reminder—cause no trouble. If you witness anything that violates our oath, report to me at once."

Dave gave a slight nod. “Yes, My Lord.”

Turning to Gu Jie, he relayed the message.

She smirked, tucking the permit into her sleeve. “Understood.”

Ironmoor City was a city of iron and stone, where the strong dictated the law. Black-robed cultivators patrolled the towers lining the inner walls, their swords gleaming under the pale sun. The streets were paved with dark iron slabs that clanked underfoot, and the forges roared ceaselessly, sending plumes of thick smoke into the sky.

Unlike Yellow Dragon City, which carried the air of sectarian refinement, Ironmoor City was a war camp in all but name. Even the common folk walked with wary steps, their gazes sharp, ever mindful of those who carried weapons.

Dave remained silent as he followed Gu Jie. He had seen many cities like this—places where power dictated survival. Nothing here was unfamiliar to him.

After some time, Gu Jie finally spoke. “Senior, I’d like your counsel.”

Dave turned his helmeted head slightly toward her. “I defer to your judgment.”

She arched a brow. “Come now, humor me.”

He considered her request before answering. “If it were me, I’d linger in taverns and listen. Drunken men speak freely. If something truly dangerous was afoot—beyond my means to handle—I’d leave the city and seek safer ground.”

Gu Jie chuckled. “That was my plan from the start.”

She glanced ahead, her voice quieting. “Master Da Wei… he is family to me.”

Dave said nothing, merely listening.

Gu Jie continued, her voice softer but firm. “Master is invincible, but I am merely a weak woman. Even so, I wish to aid him. To protect him. To safeguard him. The heart, after all... is a fragile thing.”

She halted and turned to face him fully. “Even the Heavenly Demon, thought to be undying, perished despite his rumored immortality arts. What of Master? He may be stronger, but strength alone does not shield one from folly. What does that tell us of his past? Uuuh… Apologies, Senior… I was lost in my thoughts…”

Dave regarded her through the narrow slit of his helmet. After a pause, he said, “His Lordship is not the Heavenly Demon.”

Gu Jie nodded. “I know.”

“But,” Dave continued, “I agree with your views. Even if our strength is meager, we must protect His Lordship.”

It was both truth and a challenge. A reminder.

Dave was not blind. He knew Gu Jie cared for their master. But caring and committing were not the same. Was she willing to stand as a shield? To accept what came with devotion?

For all her bravado, had she truly resolved herself?

Gu Jie tilted her head slightly. "Senior," she began, shifting from the solemnity of the previous topic, "why do you always call Master ‘His Lordship’? Are you a noble? Is he a noble? That would explain his mischief, his eccentricities… perhaps even his upbringing."

Dave frowned beneath his helmet. The question caught him off guard. "A noble?" He considered the word. "Not in the way you mean. But I do not disagree with your assessment."

Gu Jie raised an eyebrow. "Then what do you mean?"

Dave was silent for a moment, choosing his words with care. "His Lordship is noble, yes. But more than that… He is my Faith." His voice carried an unshakable conviction. "He is the closest thing I will ever have to a God in a godless world."

Gu Jie blinked at him, digesting his words. "That's… a lot to place on one person."

Dave exhaled, the motion barely noticeable beneath his heavy armor. "Perhaps." His thoughts drifted to the past. The Lost Gods. The irony of that title had never escaped him.

At times, he wondered—was the Voice that guided all immortal champions truly a singular entity? Were their whispers from one unseen, unknowable being… or merely echoes of many?

Gu Jie did not press further. Instead, she lifted a hand and pointed ahead. “There.”

Dave followed her gaze to a sturdy, two-story building reinforced with iron-plated walls. A large wooden sign hung above the entrance—Iron Kettle. The scent of roasted meat and spiced ale drifted from within, mingling with the ever-present tang of metal that permeated Ironmoor City.

"A tavern?" Dave asked.

Gu Jie nodded. "Seems like there's an inn attached, too. If luck favors us, we can handle both matters at once—gathering information and securing a place to stay."

Dave studied the building a moment longer before nodding. "Then let’s proceed."

Without another word, they stepped inside.

The tavern was alive with sound—gruff laughter, murmured conversations, the occasional sharp bark of a merchant haggling over prices. The air was thick with the scent of sizzling meat and frothy ale, undercut by the omnipresent iron tang that clung to everything in this city.

Gu Jie moved through the crowd with ease, weaving between tables like she had walked such streets all her life. Dave followed. His full armor turned more than a few heads, but no one dared approach. There was an unspoken rule in places like this—if someone looked like trouble, you left them alone unless you were prepared to deal with the consequences.

Reaching the counter, Gu Jie slid a few coins to the barkeep—a burly man with a thick scar running from brow to chin.

“Two mugs of ale.”

The barkeep grunted, pouring two foaming mugs from a massive keg before pushing them across the counter. “Enjoy.”

Gu Jie nudged one toward Dave. “Here.”

He hesitated, staring at the wooden mug for a long moment before finally picking it up. The scent of barley and hops hit him first, followed by the bitter tang of strong brew.

He took a sip—

—and nostalgia struck like a hammer to the chest.

He stilled.

The tavern was one thing.

But The Tavern…

For the first time in a long while, Dave felt something close to longing. The warmth of a hearth, the boisterous camaraderie of warriors sharing tales of battle, the unshakable sense of belonging.

He would be lying if he said he didn’t miss home.

“Something wrong?” Gu Jie asked, noticing his pause.

Dave set the mug down and shook his head. “No… just memories.”

Gu Jie took a sip from her own mug, humming in thought. “Funny. I didn’t think spirits had nostalgia.”

“Even spirits remember where they came from,” Dave murmured.

Around them, conversation ebbed and flowed, whispers carrying through the smoky air.

"Did you hear? The Black Anvil Sect is doubling their security. Something about a thief."

"That demonic cultivator they're talking about—some say she’s not alone. That Buddhist freak might be working with her."

"Abyssal Clan ships were seen docked near the southern piers. Think they’re here for business or trouble?"

"I tell ya, those black-masked bastards give me the creeps. Walkin' around like ghosts, never speaking unless they have to."

Dave stilled.

Black-masked bastards?

His senses sharpened as he sifted through the noise. Across from him, Gu Jie did the same, fingers lightly tapping her mug as she absorbed the scattered rumors.

Eventually, she smirked. “Well, looks like we came to the right place.”

Dave gave a slight nod, lifting his mug again.

Gu Jie leaned in slightly, her voice lowering. “I’ll be back. Gonna scurry around and interact with the local rats.”

Dave raised a brow beneath his helmet. “And your safety?”

Gu Jie smirked. “I can handle myself just fine. And if things go south, I’ll make a run for it. I still have a magic scroll.”

Dave studied her for a moment, then sighed. Lifting a hand, he let a soft light radiate from his fingertips. A faint shimmer settled over Gu Jie before vanishing a second later.

She blinked. “A Blessing?”

“A little insurance.”

Gu Jie grinned, patting her chest. “Appreciate it.” Then, without hesitation, she grabbed her mug and downed the rest in one go, slamming it onto the table with a satisfied sigh.

And just like that, she was gone—disappearing into the back of the tavern.

Dave leaned back in his seat, exhaling slowly. His gaze swept the room, watching, listening. For now, he would wait.

Then, he heard it.

“…slave market opening tonight. Got a few rare breeds, even one with a bloodline.”

Dave’s fingers clenched around his mug.

His presence dimmed. His heartbeat slowed.

And then, through the tether of Voice Chat, he reached out.

“My Lord, I have news.”

A beat of silence. Then—“What is it?”

“There is a slave market opening tonight.”

His Lordship exhaled on the other end. The voice that returned was even, but beneath it lay the weight of restraint.

“We can’t do anything about them. They’re enforced by the estate.”

Dave lowered his head slightly. The ale in his mouth turned bitter—not from the brew, but from the truth of those words.

Back home, this wasn’t the first time Dave had encountered something like this.

There were always things beyond His Lordship’s reach, beyond his own. No matter how much strength His Lordship gained, some things were tangled in the very roots of the world itself.

Dave and His Lordship were merely visitors in this land. Outsiders.

And yet…

Dave pressed a silent prayer in his heart—selfish in its nature.

Let us not cross paths with this slave trade.

Because if they did—if His Lordship saw it firsthand—

No. He knew what would happen.

For all his eccentricities, for all his detached sensibilities, His Lordship was a kind soul. A soul that neither sought insult nor demanded respect.

But when it came to cruelty?

His Lordship had never been one to turn a blind eye.

And Dave knew, with unsettling certainty, that if something unsightly were to unfold before them, His Lordship would not hesitate to act.

And then there would be war.

In this strange world, where they were outnumbered beyond measure, Dave understood what that meant. If it came to the worst-case scenario—it would be them against the world.

A shift in the air pulled him from his thoughts.

He turned his head at the sound of approaching footsteps. Gu Jie weaved through the crowd, her expression sharp and set. She reached their table, barely sparing a glance at the half-finished mugs before speaking.

“Let’s go.”

Dave blinked. “What’s the plan?”

“We are leaving. I got what we came for.” Gu Jie patted her storage ring—a recent gift from Jiang Zhen. “Bought all kinds of greens the fish might like. Finished my own investigations, too.”

Dave didn’t question it. If there was one thing he had learned from this group, it was that priorities could be odd. He stood, following her as she briskly exited the Iron Kettle.

Something was off.

Dave quickened his pace to match hers. “What’s wrong?”

Gu Jie exhaled sharply. “I overheard something.”

Dave remained silent, letting her continue.

“There are confirmed reports of demonic cultivators infiltrating the Abyssal Clans.” Her voice was low, cautious. “If that’s true, we’re better off leaving. Now.”

Dave frowned. “Are the Abyssal Clans so different from the major clans? I thought they didn’t get along with demonic cultivators?”

“They don’t.” Gu Jie’s eyes flicked around as they walked, her tone steady. “The Abyssal Clans may practice what others find grotesque—grave-robbing, soul studies, necromancy—but they still follow strict laws. The Empire permits their dark arts, but only within certain limits.”

“And the Black Clan enforces those limits.”

Gu Jie nodded. “Exactly. If demonic cultivators have slipped through the cracks, it means things are about to get very messy. If the Black Clan gets involved, it won’t be a fight we want to be caught in.”

Dave’s gaze swept the street. No immediate sign of trouble, yet the weight of tension pressed against his instincts.

He exhaled, adjusting his gauntlets. “Understood. Let’s get out of here.”

Without another word, they moved—quick, but controlled. Two figures slipping through the streets of Ironmoor City, leaving its dangers behind.

Or so that would have been the case…

The usual city murmur carried a tension beneath it—an unease that had not been there before. The way merchants packed their stalls earlier than usual, the way cultivators cast furtive glances toward the sky, and most tellingly, the increased presence of uniformed guards patrolling the streets.

Dave had seen this kind of shift before.

Something had happened.

By the time they neared the city gates, the problem became clear.

A line had formed. Not the usual slow trickle of people leaving a city, but something far more unnatural. Travelers stood in clusters, whispering in hushed tones. Some fidgeted with nervous energy, while others—especially those in robes of authority—looked frustrated at the delay.

At the front, armed guards blocked the gates, their spears crossed.

A large notice had been nailed to the iron-plated walls beside them.

[By Order of the City Lord – MARTIAL LAW IS IN EFFECT. No One May Leave Until Further Notice.]

Gu Jie stopped just short of the line. Dave did the same, his stance shifting slightly.

Troublesome.

Gu Jie clicked her tongue, folding her arms. "Just our luck."

Dave’s gaze moved to the guards. They were disciplined, standing rigid and unwavering. These weren’t common city enforcers—they had the air of trained cultivators. Black iron armor reinforced their bodies, and their weapons were lined with inscriptions. Wards, perhaps. Defensive measures.

"Trouble?" Dave murmured.

“Big trouble, if they've shut down a trade city like this.” Gu Jie tilted her head. "I got nothing from my Sixth Sense though… but we’d definitely be in trouble and mired with weeks’ worth of misfortune if we don’t cooperate."

Martial law wasn’t something imposed lightly. Not in a place like Ironmoor, where wealth flowed in and out like a tide. For the city lord to issue such an order…

Something had forced his hand.

Demonic cultivators? The Abyssal Clans? The Black Anvil Sect?

Too many variables.

A cloaked traveler ahead of them in line turned to grumble to his companion.

"Damned city lord must've lost his mind. This'll ruin businesses!"

"Shh!" His friend hushed him. "Didn’t you hear? The city lord’s son was attacked. Poisoned, they say. Barely survived. Lots of important people dying recently…"

Dave and Gu Jie exchanged glances.

Poison?

It didn’t fit with the earlier whispers about demonic cultivators. Assassination through poison was an entirely different method—one that belonged to a different kind of enemy.

Gu Jie lowered her voice. "Well, this complicates things."

"Agreed," Dave said. He glanced back at the crowded city behind them. "Do we turn back?"

Gu Jie tapped her chin, considering. Then, with a small, sly smirk, she shook her head. "No. We get out. One way or another."

Dave had a feeling she was going to say that.

After all, Gu Jie still had a Magic Scroll of Great Teleportation. However, Dave was unsure how the scroll would interact with the spell formation surrounding the city. Though he couldn’t perceive it as well as His Lordship, he knew they existed, wrapping around Ironmoor.

However, before he could even dissuade Gu Jie, she tensed and started retching…

Gu Jie had been composed and calculating—her usual self. But then, something changed. Her smirk faded, her fingers tensed ever so slightly within her sleeves. She composed herself with a little effort, but it was unmistakable... She was still shaken...

Dave had fought alongside enough warriors to recognize when someone had sensed a threat before it arrived. It was like watching a veteran swordsman pause mid-step, just as an unseen blade whistled toward their back.

His grip on his gauntlets tightened. What did she feel?

Her voice was quieter this time. “No… we can’t just leave.”

Dave tilted his head slightly. "Changed your mind?"

Gu Jie’s shoulders squared, her fingers curling deeper into her sleeves. “Something’s wrong. If we leave now, it won’t just be trouble—it’ll be disaster. For us. For this city.”

Dave studied her. Gu Jie was many things—sharp-tongued, pragmatic, fearless. But she wasn’t one to imagine danger where there was none.

Was this intuition? Or something more?

Then—

A ripple of pressure.

The weight in the air shifted, growing dense. The murmuring crowd fell silent.

Dave’s attention snapped to the figure striding forward. Heavy boots against iron-plated ground. A measured, deliberate step. The kind of authority that did not need to be announced.

Black robes. Cultivator’s uniform. And emblazoned upon his chest—

黑—"Black."

Dave's mind turned cold. A Black Clan cultivator.

The man’s gaze swept over the gathered travelers, his presence pressing down like an iron hand. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady, unyielding.

"You will all remain here."

Tension rippled through the crowd. Some bristled, others averted their gazes. No one dared object.

"The Black Clan is conducting an investigation into a matter of national security. We will be gathering everyone in this square for questioning."

Dave exchanged a glance with Gu Jie. She was completely still, her expression unreadable.

The cultivator continued. "Your cooperation is expected. For your time, you will be compensated."

Dave's thoughts moved swiftly. Compensation. That meant this would take time. National security. That meant they weren’t after just a petty criminal.

His gaze flickered to Gu Jie.

She wasn’t trembling. She wasn’t afraid. But there was something in her eyes—a rare thing. Annoyance.

Where did the cool, composed Gu Jie go?

Dave watched as she exhaled, rolling her shoulders as if physically shaking off whatever had unsettled her. Then, just as quickly, she smoothed her expression back into something resembling her usual confidence—except for the slight twitch in her brow.

A tell.

Gu Jie sighed. "It should be fine if we follow his words." She rubbed her temple, her tone carrying an odd mix of resignation and irritation. "In fact, I’d say it’s the least misfortune if we do. Senior, I still don’t understand my ability that well. But I believe it’s better this way."

Thus, the two decided to stay and cooperate.