Serene Sun City was a peaceful yet bustling hub, known for its harmonious atmosphere and vibrant markets. Located near fertile plains, it served as a key trade center in the Crimson Phoenix Empire, attracting merchants and cultivators alike. The streets were always alive with movement, and the air was thick with the scent of spices, roasted meats, and exotic goods.

  Hope stepped through the city’s gates, immediately greeted by the chaos that was typical of such a busy place. It reminded him of the mission hall back at the sect, but amplified a hundredfold. People shouted in every direction, vying for attention from passing customers. Stalls were stacked with colourful fabrics, rare herbs, and sparkling trinkets. The sounds of haggling filled the air, and the smell of street food wafted from every corner. There was no space to breathe, let alone move freely. It felt like he had stepped into a permanent queue, each step forward a slow shuffle against the tide of bodies around him.

  ‘Where should I go?’ Hope mused, weaving through the crowd, scanning his surroundings for a path forward. He had not yet decided on his next course of action when a sudden gesture caught his eye.

  A girl, standing near a stall draped in silks, was pointing directly at him. Hope’s senses immediately sharpened, and he focused on their conversation, overhearing their words.

  “…he’s impersonating a disciple from the Phoenix Cry Pavilion” the girl said, her voice low but clear enough to carry through the bustle. She was speaking to a guard beside her—probably a protector, judging by his armour and the way he stood close, watchful.

  The guard gave her a skeptical glance, his arms crossed over his chest. “Why do you say so, Miss?” he asked, his tone more curious than accusatory.

  The girl lifted her chin, as if the answer was obvious. “Because he looks too young to be a cultivator from one of the best sects.” Her eyes scrutinized Hope’s youthful face, lingering on his features with doubt.

  The guard paused, his brow furrowing. Even in a city as vast and full of travelers as Serene Sun, it wasn’t uncommon for young cultivators to pass through. While it was true that some sought to impersonate disciples of famous sects to gain favour, the young didn’t always mean deceit. “Miss, we can’t just say that without proof. What if he really is one?” The words hung in the air, laden with the weight of unspoken rules.

  The girl, not one to be easily deterred, pursed her lips thoughtfully. After a brief moment, a smug smile spread across her face as she offered her plan. “Ask him what the sect master’s name is. If he’s really from there, then he should know.”

  “Miss, everyone knows the Phoenix Cry Pavilion sect master’s name, that wouldn’t prove anything” the guard facepalmed himself at this proposition. He couldn’t believe that someone would be so naive, but it was a common trait among the sheltered noblewomen who had no experience in the world.

  The girl, however, wasn’t convinced. “Ask him, I don’t want impersonators in my city!” she insisted, her voice firm and high-pitched, clearly used to getting her way. She looked down at Hope, scrutinizing him as if he were a mere pawn to be examined and discarded.

  The guard sighed deeply, his patience thinning. He had dealt with more difficult situations before, but this was one of those moments where his hands were tied. He had to comply with the miss’s demands, even if he knew how absurd this request was. ‘This happened because she was spoiled rotten’, he thought bitterly as he walked up to Hope.

  Sizing up the kid in front of him, the guard tried to get a read on him. There was nothing about Hope’s appearance that stood out—just a young man with a calm demeanor and a posture that seemed unusually relaxed for someone in such a bustling city.

  ‘Early Soul Resonance’, the guard assessed, ‘that’s low. Nowhere near entering the Phoenix Cry Pavilion, or any of the top sects. Maybe the Miss is right?’ He crossed his arms, waiting for an answer.

  The guard cleared his throat, “Hey, it’s a crime to impersonate disciples from the top sects. Say, what’s the name of your sect master?”

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  Hope didn’t know how to reply. He had received the jade slip from his sect, but it only contained general information about cultivation methods, histories, and the teachings of the Phoenix Cry Pavilion—nothing personal or specific about the sect leader. His gaze flickered over the guard’s face briefly before his expression remained indifferent. “I don’t know.”

  The guard’s disbelief was palpable. ‘The miss was actually right…’ he thought, but his stern exterior didn’t betray his inner thoughts. He could feel his doubts creeping in, but he kept them under control, unwilling to show any weakness in front of the girl. He remained silent, waiting for Hope to offer something more, something that would convince him one way or the other.

  He said, “You committed a grave crime by impersonating an Outer disciple of the Phoenix Cry Pavilion. Come with me.” Without waiting for a response, the guard turned and walked back to the miss, expecting Hope to follow.

  Hope remained still, his gaze distant, as he silently contemplated the absurdity of the situation. ‘Since leaving the sect, I've been running into nothing but fools.’ Maybe I shouldn’t have entered this city, he thought bitterly.

  His frustration was palpable, but he didn’t feel like entertaining any more of their stupidity.

  After reaching the miss, the guard finally turned to look back at Hope. The sight of the young man standing there, unmoving and deep in thought, irked him further. His patience was wearing thin, and the girl, no stranger to authority, scoffed with a smug smile.

  “I knew it” she said confidently. “A person so young can’t possibly be a disciple of the Phoenix Cry Pavilion. Go, call the other guards and execute him.” Her words were cold and quick, her judgment made before considering the consequences.

  The guard, his anger rising, nodded sharply. "Understood." He then turned and shouted, “Guards, execute that boy for impersonating one of the top sects' disciples!”

  A chorus of voices followed as the guards in the area responded in unison. “YES, SIR!”

  With that, they began marching towards Hope, their footsteps firm, echoing through the street.

  Hope remained where he was, his mind processing everything with a growing sense of weariness. ‘I’m tired of this’, he thought. ‘Everyone keeps testing my patience. It started with those two in the forest outside Eldrinspire, then the people in the Azure Moon Forest, then outside Ashengarde… and now, not even five minutes in this city, and I’m already on a killing order.’

  A flicker of anger flared within him, the frustration that had been simmering under the surface now manifesting as a surge of energy. His eyes, once calm, began to flicker with a deep purple light, the aura around him shifting.

  "Enough" he muttered under his breath, his voice calm but heavy with an unspoken threat.

  The more Hope stewed in his thoughts, the angrier he became. His emotions were spiraling out of control. The little one attached to his chest by its claws, feeling the sudden shift in Hope’s mood, reacted instinctively. Its fur stood on end, an alertness running through its small body. It began licking the uniform in frantic motions, as if trying to comfort Hope, or perhaps reach him in some way. Its tongue brushed over the fabric repeatedly, but Hope was oblivious to it, lost in the haze of his own brewing fury.

  He stood still, his mind consumed by a storm of thoughts, his frustration building to a point of no return. The guards, now closing in, were unaware of the danger that was about to unfold. One of them, eager to act, began sprinting toward Hope with his sword drawn.

  The Miss, watching from a distance, couldn't suppress her smug grin. Her eyes sparkled with a self-satisfied gleam as she looked down on Hope. ‘This is it. A criminal caught in the act. This is a meritorious achievement. Maybe Dad will reward me when I get back home...’ The thought of her father’s praise filled her with excitement, her anticipation growing with each passing second.

  But the protector by her side didn’t share the same enthusiasm. He had expected to see panic, fear, or at least some sign of weakness in the boy. He thought Hope would run like a coward, perhaps plead for his life. Instead, he saw nothing but stillness. The boy didn’t even react to the oncoming threat, just muttered to himself under his breath. This behaviour unsettled the guard. He couldn’t understand why, but there was something about the way Hope stood there, so calm and unbothered, that made the protector uneasy.

  The guard charging at Hope was almost upon him now, his sword raised high, prepared to deliver a lethal strike.

  In that fleeting moment, something in Hope snapped. The last shred of his patience shattered, and destruction surged within him, overwhelming his mind.

  ‘I’m tired.’

  ‘I did nothing wrong.’

  ‘Why do you need to keep coming at me?’

  With those thoughts, Hope's body seemed to vanish, his figure blurring in the air as if he had never been there to begin with. Before the charging guard could even process what had happened, Hope appeared at his side, his sword already drawn in a single, fluid motion.

  In the blink of an eye, Hope’s blade cleaved through the air, and the guard’s head fell to the ground with a sickening thud. Blood sprayed from the severed neck, splattering across the cobblestone street as the lifeless body crumpled to the ground.

  Chaos erupted in an instant.

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