The Grand Bazaar remained as lively as ever despite the sun hanging high above the city.
It was already noon, perhaps even early afternoon, yet the festivities showed no signs of slowing down. Streets leading toward the central plaza were crowded with countless people moving in different directions. Merchants loudly advertised their products while customers haggled over prices, creating a constant sea of noise that filled the district.
Fortunately, the citizens of Abarrus had long grown accustomed to the harsh sunlight.
Large cloth canopies stretched across the streets, connecting one building to another overhead. Some were woven from thick fabrics dyed in vibrant colors, while others bore symbols belonging to wealthy merchant groups sponsoring the event. Together, they formed a continuous layer of shade that covered most of the district and greatly reduced the oppressive heat of the afternoon sun.
The result was a strangely comforting atmosphere.
Although the streets remained crowded, the cloth coverings created a sense of enclosure, making visitors feel protected from the blazing sky above.
Beneath those canopies, countless vendors occupied both sides of every street.
Some sold freshly cooked food whose aromas spread through the air and attracted long lines of customers. Others displayed accessories crafted from metals, gemstones, or monster materials. There were also merchants selling fabrics, perfumes, books, tools, ornaments, toys, and countless other goods brought from various regions.
The Grand Bazaar was one of the largest commercial events held within Abarrus each year.
As a result, merchants and visitors from neighboring territories naturally gathered here.
Among the crowd, however, one unusual sight stood out.
Many people had their bodies covered from head to toe.
Some wore wide cloaks.
Others wrapped cloth around their faces.
Many left only their eyes exposed.
To outsiders, the sight might appear suspicious.
For the citizens of Abarrus, however, it was completely normal.
The sunlight near the surface was notoriously unpleasant, and generations of experience had taught people to protect themselves whenever possible. As a result, face coverings gradually became common within the city.
Coincidentally, this custom also made identifying specific individuals considerably more difficult.
Unless someone was already familiar with a person's appearance, finding them within such a crowd was almost impossible.
At this moment, two men quietly walked side by side among the bustling pedestrians.
Their appearances were unremarkable.
Both possessed thin white horns protruding from their foreheads and stood at roughly the same height. Dark blue clothing covered their bodies beneath gray outer robes, while improvised dark cloth concealed most of their faces. Only their eyes remained visible.
To passing civilians, they appeared no different from countless others visiting the Grand Bazaar.
Yet unlike ordinary visitors, neither man's attention lingered on the merchandise surrounding them.
Their eyes continuously scanned the crowd.
Observing.
Searching.
Waiting.
The two carefully heightened their senses as they moved through the streets. However, neither expanded their aura despite the urgency of their mission.
Doing so would be foolish.
Places like the Grand Bazaar attracted people from all walks of life. Wealthy merchants, wandering cultivators, nobles, mercenaries, and influential figures often visited such events without revealing their identities.
Expanding an aura recklessly could easily provoke someone they could not afford to offend.
And in a place where everyone hid behind masks and robes, determining exactly who one was provoking became even more dangerous.
After several minutes of fruitless searching, one of the men finally spoke.
"Do you think that sickly brat has already reached the plaza?"
His voice remained low enough to avoid attracting attention.
The second man shook his head.
"That's impossible."
His gaze continued sweeping across the crowd.
"He could barely stand properly. There's no way he reached the plaza this quickly."
The first man frowned.
His eyes narrowed beneath the cloth covering his face.
"And what if he's not planning to hide there?"
The second man remained silent.
The first continued.
"What if he already escaped our net?"
This time, the second man finally glanced toward his companion.
"We don't have any other choice but to stick with the plan."
His tone remained calm.
"That kid doesn't emit any aura. We have to rely on physical observation and our network to find him."
The first man clicked his tongue.
The second continued speaking.
"You don't need to overthink it."
His eyes shifted toward the endless crowd ahead.
"If the operation fails, nobody will discover our identities."
A faint confidence entered his voice.
"Even if they somehow do, we'll already be outside the city by then."
The first man understood the logic.
Yet understanding did little to improve his mood.
"But we won't receive half our payment if he survives."
His voice carried obvious irritation.
"Dammit!"
The second man ignored the complaint entirely.
Truthfully, he was also dissatisfied with the current situation.
However, unlike his companion, he had already accepted the possibility that the mission might fail.
Professionals prepared for both success and failure.
There was no point dwelling on things that could no longer be changed.
Instead, he focused on what remained possible.
After a brief silence, he finally spoke again.
"Let's just hope our informants find him before he escapes."
The first man grunted in response.
Then both of them resumed searching the crowd.
Completely unaware that their target had already begun making plans of his own.
...
Meanwhile, several streets away from the routes leading directly toward the Grand Bazaar, another district remained just as lively despite having noticeably fewer visitors. The streets here were narrower and the surrounding buildings appeared older, giving the area a poorer atmosphere compared to the prosperous commercial districts closer to the plaza.
Although many pedestrians still passed through the area, a considerable number of beggars could also be seen occupying both sides of the street. Most of them were children dressed in old brown shirts and worn trousers, carrying wooden bowls while wandering among the crowd in hopes of receiving a few coins. Some sat quietly beside walls while others actively approached passersby, only to be ignored more often than not.
Among those beggars, however, one appeared particularly miserable.
He wore nothing but a plain white shirt and black trousers, both hanging loosely on his abnormally skinny frame. His back remained slightly hunched as he walked, making him resemble an elderly man whose body could collapse at any moment. Covering his head was a piece of dark green fabric that concealed most of his face, leaving only his eyes visible to the outside world. To most people, he looked no different from another unfortunate youth struggling to survive within the city.
Ironically, many of the actual beggars looked healthier than he did.
Naturally, this skinny and sickly boy was none other than Relict.
After separating from Seila, he had immediately removed his outer coat and wrapped it around his head to conceal his appearance. Combined with Aton's naturally frail physique and his deliberate posture, the disguise had proven surprisingly effective. At the very least, none of the pedestrians passing by had paid him any attention.
"This disguise can only fool them temporarily."
Relict silently evaluated his current appearance while continuing through the street. If he truly wanted to disappear, he would need to replace every piece of clothing he currently wore. His white shirt and black trousers were still recognizable, and the dark green coat wrapped around his head could potentially expose his identity if examined too closely.
However, after considering the matter for a moment, he quickly dismissed the idea.
Actually, such precautions were unnecessary.
Unlike most cultivators, Aton's body possessed no aura. Ever since birth, the Curse of the Surface had prevented him from utilizing Yuan Energy, leaving him incapable of cultivating like ordinary people. The same curse had also prevented his body from naturally developing an aura, something that every practitioner unconsciously emitted regardless of whether they were actively using their power or not.
To most people, this was an unfortunate flaw.
To Relict, it was simply another variable.
Most cultivators relied heavily on aura perception when searching for others. In many cases, they trusted those senses more than their own eyes. Unfortunately for the assassins, such methods would be completely useless against him. There was simply nothing for them to detect.
The irony of the situation was not lost on him.
The very curse that had tormented Aton throughout his entire life was now helping him remain hidden from his pursuers. What most people considered a weakness had become one of his greatest advantages under the right circumstances.
"A flaw is still a tool," Relict thought as he observed the surrounding crowd.
"It merely depends on how one chooses to use it."
With that understanding, he gradually left the poorer district behind and began making his way toward the busier streets connected to the Grand Bazaar. The number of pedestrians steadily increased with every intersection he crossed, and soon the sounds of merchants and customers once again filled his surroundings.
This time, however, Relict no longer intended to focus solely on escaping.
The assassins were searching for him.
Which meant they would eventually expose themselves while doing so.
All he needed was an opportunity.
Or perhaps, a way to create one.
A faint smile appeared beneath the cloth covering his face as a new plan gradually formed within his mind.
"Let's see who becomes the hunter and who becomes the hunted."
...
The Grand Bazaar was not merely a collection of streets filled with merchants and visitors.
Rather, it was an enormous commercial district temporarily formed around a massive central plaza located near the heart of Abarrus. Countless roads and smaller marketplaces spread outward from that location like branches extending from the trunk of a tree. Regardless of which direction visitors entered from, most eventually found themselves drawn toward the plaza at the center.
Naturally, this also made the plaza the busiest location within the entire event.
Unlike the surrounding streets where ordinary merchants sold common goods, the central plaza catered to a different clientele altogether. The merchandise found there generally possessed higher quality and value, ranging from rare antiques and imported products to various resources brought from distant territories outside the city. Some merchants even specialized in trading cultivation-related materials, attracting practitioners willing to spend large sums of money for resources that could improve their strength.
More importantly, the largest auction of the Grand Bazaar was held exclusively within the plaza.
Every year, wealthy merchants, influential nobles, powerful cultivators, and various prominent figures gathered there in hopes of acquiring valuable items unavailable anywhere else. As a result, many visitors bypassed the outer districts entirely and headed directly toward the center of the event.
At this moment, one such group was making its way toward the plaza.
A luxurious carriage steadily advanced through the crowded streets while several guards escorted it from all sides. Although the vehicle itself was not excessively extravagant, its refined craftsmanship and the emblem engraved upon its doors were enough for many pedestrians to instinctively move aside and clear a path.
Inside the carriage sat two individuals.
One was an elderly man whose calm demeanor carried the authority of someone accustomed to making important decisions. Across from him sat a young woman quietly observing the scenery outside through a nearby window.
After several moments of silence, the elderly man finally spoke.
"Have you managed to learn anything regarding Augustus' son?"
The young woman immediately understood who he was referring to.
Unfortunately, her answer was not particularly satisfying.
"I haven't, Grandpa."
She lightly shook her head.
"I've requested an audience several times over the past few weeks, but the Lyn Family rejected every request."
The elderly man remained silent as she continued.
"Actually, I don't believe I was the only one."
The young woman withdrew her gaze from the window and looked toward her grandfather.
"From what I've gathered, the Lyn Family has tightly shut their premises to practically everyone. No outsiders have been allowed inside."
Hearing this, the elderly man slowly nodded.
The reaction was unsurprising.
After everything that had happened recently, such behavior was understandable.
"I see."
He leaned slightly against his seat and closed his eyes for a brief moment.
"Although they publicly announced that the lad survived, no one has truly confirmed his actual condition."
The young woman smiled faintly.
"About that, Grandpa."
The elderly man opened one eye.
"Oh?"
"I don't think that's the case anymore."
This time, she successfully caught his interest.
The elderly man raised an eyebrow.
"Do tell."
The young woman's smile widened slightly.
"Earlier today, many people saw Aton leave his family's territory."
The elderly man immediately became attentive.
"He left the estate?"
"Yes."
She nodded.
"Apparently, he visited the city library."
The information genuinely surprised him.
The young woman continued before he could ask further questions.
"Quite a few witnesses have already confirmed seeing him personally. Their descriptions are generally consistent."
"And?"
"He's still weak."
Her answer came immediately.
"Pale. Thin. And visibly recovering from his illness."
The elderly man listened quietly.
"However..."
The young woman paused briefly before finishing her report.
"Everyone agrees on one thing."
"He is undeniably alive."
...