Darahem City. Where anarchy never truly sleeps.
The city streets buzzed with energy as citizens made their way through crowded alleys and bustling bazaars. Merchants shouted their prices, mercenaries cast wary looks at one another, and the occasional cultivator pushed their way through the crowd, auras forcing the others to part. Banners far overhead bearing various insignias flapped in the wind like omens.
The Ironfeather Clan dominated most of the northern part of the city. Their symbol, a black field with a silver feather, adorned each big building. Their influence spread like a shadow, with the marketplaces and the system of subterranean information under their control.
To the west, there was the Blackscale Sect. They were the followers of its rule, wearing black robes with snake-like scales embroidered on their arms and proceeding in tight ranks. They were known to control the dark markets and weapon trades.
The Steelhorn Guild operated from the eastern area, a mercenary group famous for their earth-shaking strength. Their insignia, two crossed horns, was cut into every weapon they used.
To the south, the Shadow Lotus Pavilion operated in the shadows. Rumored to have dealings in assassins and poisons, the members were unnamed, their existence a myth to the common people.
And throughout it all, the Crimson Viper Syndicate crept through the city like a snake that had been poisoned, peddling anything from narcotics to unique methods of cultivation. They are the only power who managed to stay neutral through all the years.
But even among those giant powers, Yu Rael's mercenary army carved out its own niche. Tiny but undeniably cruel. They were not a dominant power, but their image as ruthlessly efficient was beginning to spread.
In a quiet courtyard on the outskirts of the city, Vaen sat alone under a single tree. The air was cool, wet soil aroma mixing with the distant aroma of street food. Tarun knelt at his master's feet, gasping but his eyes alight with a fierce new energy.
"I did it, Master Vaen," Tarun shouted, pumping his fists. "I made it to Foundation Establishment Stage 1."
Vaen's gaze remained fixed on the horizon, his expression as calm as ever. "Good. But don't get too excited. You're still a fly in this massive world."
Tarun swallowed, the light in his eyes dimming. "Yes, Master."
The young one had come a long way in the past months. From a quivering pickpocket on the streets to a Foundation Establishment cultivator who at least had the sense to fight back. But in Darahem, a Foundation Establishment cultivator was still cannon fodder.
Vaen shrugged, dusting off his cloak. "What of the Ironfeather Clan you found out last night."
Tarun stood upright. "They've been grasping their fist on the information exchange. I overheard some of their men talking about a shipment coming from the southern wasteland. Two sky-grade weapons and 20 earth-grade, probably."
Vaen nodded, taking it all in. Information. Weapons. Measures and manipulations. Darahem City was a chessboard, and at this time he was just observing the players.
Tarun stumbled. "Eh….Will you take actions now? You've been quiet for this two months. Won't Yu Rael do...."
Vaen's gaze misted. "We wait. The power dynamics of the city are very complex. They are united and not at the same time. Once, the balance breaks even if a little crack. We shall see!"
Tarun nodded, but the tension still lingered.
---
The courtyard door creaked open, and a familiar face entered. One of Yu Rael's vice-captains — a wiry, lean man with a perpetually sour face. He glanced at Vaen, his eyes full of unasked questions, but said nothing.
"Captain wants you," he said shortly.
Vaen glanced at Tarun, who immediately dropped his gaze. "Keep practicing," Vaen said. "You're not strong enough yet."
"Yes, Master," Tarun said, voice low.
As Vaen stepped out behind the vice-captain, he couldn't help but sense that something will happen and a big one this time. Yu Rael had kept low ever since they returned from the Arcane Secret Realm. Nothing big tasks what he thought at first. But he knew her — she was not one to lay low for long.
And in a city like Darahem, even the darkness have eyes.