Dawn painted the eastern sky with streaks of gold when I arrived at the battlefield''s entrance. My decision had kept me awake most of the night, weighing heavily on my conscience. In the end, necessity won over principle.


    Evelyn Norton stood waiting, her silhouette sharp against the rising sun. Her eyes flicked to meet mine, calcting and cold.


    "I''ll do it," I said without preamble. "Tell me who they are."


    A satisfied smile curved her lips. "Glenn Talbot and Saul Holt. They''ll be easy to identify—Talbot always wears a distinctive red band on his wrist, and Holt has a scar running down the left side of his face."


    "What did they do to you?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.


    "That''s not part of our agreement." Her voice held no room for negotiation. "Now, take this."


    She handed me a green hat instead of the ck one from yesterday. I frowned, turning it over in my hands.


    "This isn''t the concealment artifact."


    "No," she agreed. "This is how I''ll identify you in the battlefield. The green hat marks you as my representative."


    My stomach knotted. "This makes me a target."


    "It makes you visible to me," she corrected. "The battlefield is vast and chaotic. I need to find you when the timees."


    I didn''t like it, but I had little choice. "Fine."


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    "One more thing," she added, pulling out a small pouch. "Scatter this powder at your feet when you find them. It will send me a signal."


    I took the pouch, tucking it into my inner pocket. "How will you get into the battlefield? The entrance is heavily guarded."


    Evelyn''s smile was razor-thin. "Let me worry about that."


    With those parting words, she melted into the morning shadows, leaving me alone with my doubts and a green hat that felt more like a burden than protection.


    ---


    Shince City hummed with activity. Martial artists from all backgrounds gathered at the newly discovered battlefield, their auras shing like thunder. Many wore the emblems of prominent families—the Ashworths'' phoenix insignia was particrly abundant.


    I kept my head down and my qi suppressed as I approached the entrance. Guards checked each person''s cultivation level before allowing entry. Only those at Grandmaster level or above could enter without an invitation.


    When my turn came, the guard''s eyes narrowed. "You''re only at the Master level. Do you have an invitation?"


    "I''m representing the Norton family," I lied, showing him the green hat.


    He looked skeptical but waved me through after a moment''s hesitation. Evelyn''s name clearly carried weight, though I knew nothing about her family or background.


    Inside, the battlefield sprawled across a vast depression in the earth. Ancient weapons jutted from the soil like malformed trees, and dark energy swirled in visible currents, making the air shimmer with power.


    Perfect for my cultivation needs—if I survived long enough to use it.


    I decided to proceed alone, avoiding the groups of martial artists who clustered near the entrance. Most seemed hesitant to venture deeper, where the dark energy grew more concentrated.


    The green hat sat awkwardly on my head, making me feel conspicuous. Several people nced my way with furrowed brows, clearly wondering about my identity and affiliation.


    I''d walked about half a mile when a voice rang out behind me.


    "You there! In the green hat!"


    I turned slowly, finding myself face to face with seven martial artists, all radiating Peak Form Grandmaster power. My heart sank as I recognized Glenn Talbot, his red wristband bright against his dark sleeve. Beside him stood a man with a jagged scar—undoubtedly Saul Holt.


    My targets had found me first.


    "What family are you with?" demanded a burly man with a gray beard. "That hat isn''t from any association I recognize."


    I kept my voice neutral. "I''m here independently."


    Laughter erupted from the group. Talbot stepped forward, his eyes cold with amusement.


    "Independent? At your level?" He circled me slowly. "You''re barely a Master. How did you even get in here?"


    I remained silent, calcting my odds. Seven Peak Form Grandmasters against one damaged Master. Not good.


    "Maybe he snuck in," suggested Saul Holt, his scar twisting as he smiled. "Should we teach him what happens to trespassers?"


    The burly man shook his head. "Kill him quickly. We have more important matters to attend to."


    My muscles tensed, ready to fight despite the impossible odds. Then Talbot raised his hand.


    "Wait," he said, studying me with sudden interest. "He might be useful."


    "Useful how?" asked Holt, clearly disappointed at the prospect of losing his prey.


    Talbot''s smile was predatory. "As a pathfinder."


    The word sent chills down my spine. I''d heard of pathfinders—expendable people sent ahead to trigger traps and detect dangers in treacherous areas.


    "The deeper sections are filled with ancient formations and traps," Talbot continued. "Why risk ourselves when we have a volunteer?"


    The others nodded in agreement, cruel smiles spreading across their faces.


    "Walk ahead of us," Talbotmanded, giving me a shove. "Twenty paces, no more. If you try to run, we''ll kill you slowly instead of quickly."


    With no viable alternative, Iplied, moving deeper into the battlefield with my senses on high alert. Dark energy swirled around us, growing thicker with each step. I absorbed some of it surreptitiously, channeling it into my damaged meridians.


    "Careful around those spikes," called Holt from behind me. "They''re poisoned. We lost two men to them yesterday."


    I edged around the rusted spikes jutting from the ground, noting how they seemed to pulse with malevolent energy. This ce was ancient, but the remnants of battle still carried deadly power.


    As we progressed, I studied my captors, memorizing their faces and mannerisms. Besides Talbot and Holt, there were five others—the burly man who appeared to be their leader, twin brothers with matching silver daggers, a woman with calcting eyes, and a young man who seemed ufortable with the situation.


    "Stop here," ordered the burly man when we reached a clearing surrounded by broken stone pirs. "This looks like a good ce to wait."


    "Wait for what?" I asked, speaking for the first time since they''d captured me.


    The burly man smirked. "For the Ashworths, of course. We''ve been invited to a special meeting."


    My blood ran cold. If the Ashworths saw me, I was dead.


    "Ah, here theye now," said the woman, pointing to a group approaching from the east.


    I turned, keeping my head down, and saw five figures making their way toward us. My heart nearly stopped when I recognized one of them—Sammy Ashworth, Corbin''s right-hand man and one of the people who had tried to kidnap Isabelle.


    As they drew closer, Talbot and hispanions straightened their postures, showing deference. Even the burly man bowed his head slightly.


    "Masters Talbot, Holt," Sammy greeted them, his voice carrying easily across the clearing. "And of course, Master Reed." He nodded to the burly man. "Thank you for meeting us in this... unusual location."


    "The pleasure is ours," Reed replied smoothly. "Though I confess, we''re curious about the secrecy."


    Sammy''s gaze swept over the group, pausing momentarily on me. My pulse thundered in my ears, but he moved on without recognition. The green hat and my lowered head had worked—for now.


    "Who''s the pathfinder?" Sammy asked, gesturing toward me.


    "Just some fool we found wandering too deep," Holt replied with a dismissive wave. "Barely Master level, but useful enough."


    Sammy nodded, unconcerned. "Keep him. You''ll need a pathfinder for what''sing."


    Reed stepped forward. "And what exactly ising, Master Ashworth? Your message mentioned an opportunity, but little else."


    Sammy smiled, a calcted expression that reminded me too much of Corbin. "Not an opportunity, Master Reed. A revolution."


    He gestured, and hispanions spread out, forming a semicircle behind him. Their movements were practiced, coordinated—these were elite fighters.


    "The Ashworth family hase to a decision," Sammy announced, his voice carrying authority beyond his years. "For too long, the martial world of the North has been fractured, divided by petty rivalries and ancient grudges."


    My ears perked up. What was this about?


    "Corbin Ashworth, with the full backing of the Ashworth family council, has decided it''s time for unity," Sammy continued. "We will be forming a Northern Martial Alliance, with the Ashworth family at its head."


    Murmurs broke out among Reed''s group. This was a major power y—one that would reshape the entire martialndscape of the region.


    "And you''re inviting us to join?" Reed asked cautiously.


    "We''re offering you the chance to be founding members," Sammy corrected. "Those who stand with us now will hold positions of authority when the Alliance is fully formed. Those who resist..." His smile turned cold. "Well, they will find themselves without allies in the new order."


    I stood frozen, processing this information. The Ashworths were making a move to dominate all other martial families in the North. If they seeded, their power would be nearly absolute—and my position even more precarious.


    Talbot stepped forward. "The Talbot family pledges its support to the Alliance."


    "As does the Holt family," added Saul Holt, not to be outdone.


    Reed looked thoughtful. "The Reed family has always valued its independence."


    "Independence is an illusion in today''s world, Master Reed," Sammy replied smoothly. "We all depend on others. The question is whether you wish to depend on friends or enemies."


    The threat was thinly veiled, and Reed knew it. After a moment''s consideration, he nodded. "The Reed family will join your Alliance, provided our ancestral territories remain under our control."


    "Of course," Sammy agreed. "The Alliance seeks to unify, not conquer."


    But I knew better. This was conquest dressed as cooperation. The Ashworths would never be satisfied with anything less than total control.


    As they continued discussing terms, I stood silently, my mind racing. This information was invaluable. If I could get it to Sofia and my other allies, we could prepare for theing storm.


    But first, I had to survive this encounter—and decide what to do about Evelyn Norton''s assassination request. Her targets were now founding members of an alliance that would reshape the martial world.


    Killing them would have consequences far beyond what I''d anticipated when I agreed to her deal.


    As Sammy Ashworth outlined his family''s grand vision for dominating the North, I felt the weight of the pouch in my pocket—and the weight of my decision—grow impossibly heavy.