~ Present Time ~
Lin arrived at the city at dawn.
Mist clung to the mountain, curling around stone and steel, swallowing sound and light alike. From a distance, the city looked less like a settlement and more like a spine.
Terraced layers of architecture rose upward along the mountain's colossal slope with each tier stacked atop the last. Towers pierced the clouds. Bridges spanned impossible gaps. Roads zigzagged upward like veins feeding a giant.
This was Skyvault City.
A city located on one of the largest mountains on the continent.
A city built not outward, but upward.
It was said that when the mountain was first discovered, its peak vanished into the heavens themselves, and the Emperor personally decreed that a city be built upon it—not to conquer the mountain, but to ascend alongside it. Over centuries, Skyvault City became a beating heart of trade, cultivation, knowledge, and ambition.
The higher you lived, the higher your status.
The higher you climbed, the closer you were to power.
Lin adjusted the brim of the conical hat shadowing his face. His long black robes brushed lightly against the ground as he joined the line at the city gates.
The fabric was plain at first glance, but closer inspection—if anyone had dared—would reveal strange, flowing markings etched into the cloth, patterns that shifted subtly depending on the angle of light.
He stood quietly.
Around him, carts rolled forward, pulled by scaled beasts, horned horses and creatures whose eyes glowed faintly with cultivated qi. Guards inspected cargo carefully, checking seals, permits, and identification tokens.
Those entering on foot were no exception.
A token was required to enter Skyvault City.
Lin did not have one.
The man in front of him did.
The exchange took less than a heartbeat.
Lin's sleeve brushed past the man's waist as he stepped forward half a pace. His fingers moved with such speed that even the air failed to notice. The token vanished and the man never felt a thing.
When it was his turn at the gate, Lin presented the token calmly.
The guards barely glanced at him before waving him through.
Behind him, chaos erupted.
"Hey—what do you mean I can't go in?! My token was here just a moment ago!"
A merchant shouted, patting himself down frantically as guards blocked his path. Voices rose. Accusations flew. A small crowd began to gather.
Lin did not look back.
At the inner checkpoint, cultivators stationed at the gate extended their senses, brushing Lin's body with qi. He felt it skim across his skin, probing, searching.
They checked for weapons.
They checked for contraband.
They checked for the Emperor's mark.
Lin let them.
Their qi slid across him and passed on, finding nothing out of the ordinary.
He had a fake mark on his shoulder but unless there was much closer inspection no one would notice.
They never did.
"Visitor pass," one guard said, handing him a jade slip. "Do not lose it. Higher districts require additional clearance."
Lin inclined his head politely and stepped through.
Skyvault City opened before him in full.
The lower tiers bustled with life. Markets were packed with vendors selling everything from mundane food to spirit-infused delicacies. Smiths hammered enchanted metals. Alchemists advertised pills promising everything from longevity to enhanced virility. Courtesan houses competed with theaters, gambling halls with auction houses.
Languages overlapped. Cultures clashed.
Qi thrummed through the air like background noise.
Lin walked, refusing a carriage without hesitation. To be carried through a city like this was to remain blind. Walking meant hearing conversations, noticing expressions, sensing the undercurrents of power and fear.
The higher tiers loomed above, connected by massive stairways, lift platforms powered by formations, and bridges suspended over open air. The further up one went, the fewer commoners could be seen and the more cultivators appeared.
Skyvault City was not just a city.
It was a ladder... and everyone here was climbing.
Lin passed by taverns filled with mercenaries boasting of their kills, scholars arguing over ancient texts, and sect recruiters whispering promises to wide-eyed youths. He smelled incense, blood, oil, and ambition all mixed together.
Then he noticed the crowd.
A large gathering had formed around a towering bulletin board carved directly into the mountain's stone face. Fresh notices glowed faintly with qi, drawing attention like moths to flame.
Lin drifted closer.
"…I'm telling you, it's true!"
A man slapped the board for emphasis. "The Azure Heaven Sect is gone. Wiped out. Reduced to ash!"
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
"By who?"
Another voice answered, hushed and reverent. "Who else? Ten Thousand Lins."
Lin paused.
'Ah. That nickname again.'
"They say he appeared everywhere at once," a woman eyes shone as she whispered. "Killing elders, destroying formations… laughing while doing it."
"He even defiled the sect master's wife!" someone added with relish. "Right in their own courtyard!"
Several men clicked their tongues in disgust.
"Shameless."
"Degenerate."
"Utterly lawless."
Yet not all reactions were negative.
A young woman covered her mouth, cheeks flushed. "I heard he's incredibly handsome. A devil, yes—but one with… exceptional skill."
Another woman giggled. "Second to none in bed, apparently."
Lin chuckled inwardly... The rumors always escalated.
A man snorted loudly. "Bah. Enjoy your fantasies while you can. That monster won't live much longer."
"Oh?"
"A certain cultivator is hunting him," the man said confidently. "Someone even Ten Thousand Lins can't escape."
Interest sparked immediately.
"Who?"
The man straightened, clearly enjoying the attention. "Sovereign Blade Qiu Feng."
Once the name was mentioned, the air stilled slightly. It no doubt carried reverence.
Qiu Feng.
A lone cultivator infamous across three regions for being a bounty hunter. A man who had slaughtered an entire mountain sect after they dared block his path. A blade cultivator whose sword intent was said to split clouds and sever rivers.
They said he once cut down a flying fortress with a single strike.
They said his cultivation had reached the peak of the Spirit King Realm, and that he had survived an Arishem trial so brutal even demons had retreated.
They said his blade never missed.
"He's already killed Ten Thousand Lins once," someone whispered.
Lin almost laughed while stepping forward, adopting a scowl.
"That bastard?" Lin said loudly. "Ten Thousand Lins is nothing but a disease. A stain on cultivation itself."
Heads turned.
Encouraged, Lin voice rose with practiced indignation as he continued. "Seduce women, destroy sects, mock authority—what kind of trash lives like that? If I ever met him, I'd spit in his face."
The crowd erupted in agreement.
"Exactly!"
"Well said!"
"May Sovereign Blade Qiu Feng cut him down!"
Lin bowed slightly, hiding his smile.
Internally, he chuckled.
'Qiu Feng…'
He remembered the man well.
A proud fool. Strong, yes but predictable... They had clashed nearly a decade ago. Qiu Feng had died screaming, convinced until the end that he had cornered the real Lin.
Lin drifted away from the bulletin board with laughter echoing behind him.
Skyvault City stretched upward endlessly with secrets buried within its highest tiers.
Somewhere within this vertical labyrinth lay the next clue... another rumor pointing toward immortality.
He lifted his gaze toward the mountain peak vanishing into the clouds.
"Come to me... Fen Mo..." he murmured to himself.