The transition from the Green-Azure Secret Realm to the mortal foothills was like stepping out of a toxic dream into a waking nightmare. While the secret realm was a jungle of vibrant, albeit poisonous, life, the surrounding mortal territories were a study in stagnation. The sky here was a permanent, bruised ochre, and the "Tainted Qi" hung in the air like heavy, invisible wool.
Han Feng led the way, his stride rhythmic and predatory. Behind him, Lin Xiruo walked with her hand resting on the hilt of her silver rapier, her silver eyes scanning the grey horizon with a newfound clarity. Behind her, Su Yue struggled to keep pace, her face pale but her eyes filled with a fierce, newfound determination.
They were approaching Clearwater City—a name that was a cruel irony. The "Clearwater" river that ran through its center was a sludge of industrial runoff and alchemical waste from the nearby minor sects. This was a "Trade Hub," a place where the rules of the Great Sects were loosely enforced, and where the "Grey Market" thrived.
"We need resources," Han Feng said, his voice cutting through the damp air. "The Azure Phoenix Wing is restored, but it lacks a sheath that can contain its purity. If I walk into the Sect with a 100% pure Earth Treasure, the Grand Elders will descend like locusts before I can even reach the Outer Gates."
"The Silver Moon Pavilion is hosting an 'Eclipsed Auction' tonight," Lin Xiruo noted, her voice cold. "It's a black-market event for things too 'dirty' for the official markets. Corrupted artifacts, blood-pills, and... 'Filter Slaves.'"
Han Feng's jaw tightened. "Then that is where we start. We will sell the 'trash' from the Lotus and buy what we need to hide our light."
The Gates of the Underworld
Clearwater City was a sprawling labyrinth of soot-stained stone and flickering spirit-lanterns. The guards at the gate were mortals in heavy leather armor, their lungs whistling with the "Grey-Cough" common to those who lived in the lowlands. They barely glanced at Han Feng's group, their eyes glazed with the apathy of the dying.
The Silver Moon Pavilion sat at the heart of the city, a structure of dark wood and stained glass that looked like a festering wound. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of incense, metallic blood, and the sour tang of low-grade Qi.
Han Feng draped a hooded cloak over his shoulders, the Purification Mirror humming against his chest, its white aura tightly suppressed to a one-inch radius around his skin.
"Stay close," he whispered to the women. "In this place, the 'Sanitized Zone' is the only thing keeping your meridians from being stained by the ambient rot."
They entered the auction hall. It was a tiered amphitheater filled with hooded figures. Some were high-ranking sect disciples looking for forbidden power; others were Evil Cultivators—men and women whose skin was translucent and mapped with black veins, their very presence making the air feel oily.
"Welcome, honored guests," a voice hissed from the stage.
The auctioneer was a man named Merchant Mo, a high-stage Qi Condensation cultivator whose lower half was replaced by a series of mechanical, spider-like legs made of Soul-Sucking Iron. He tapped a gavel made from a human femur.
"Tonight, we deal in the forbidden! Our first item: A Corrupted Dragon Scale, recovered from the Deep Abyss. It contains 80% concentrated Miasma. Perfect for those practicing the Black-Cloud Bone-Rotting Art!"
The bidding was frantic. 5,000 Spirit Stones. 10,000.
Han Feng watched with a look of profound disgust. These people weren't just buying weapons; they were buying the tools of their own destruction.
The Broken Relic
"And now," Merchant Mo cackled, his spider-legs clattering on the stage, "a curiosity for the collectors of junk. A Heaven-Shatter Scabbard. Found in a Pre-Fall ruin, but it is utterly useless. It has been 'Clean-Locked.' It refuses to accept any weapon that contains Tainted Qi. Since every weapon in the world contains Tainted Qi, it is nothing but a very expensive paperweight."
The hall went silent. A few people laughed. A "Clean-Locked" item was considered a defect—a relic of a world that no longer existed.
"The bid starts at 500 Spirit Stones," Mo sneered.
"500," Han Feng said, his voice calm.
All heads turned toward the hooded youth in the back.
"600," a voice boomed from the front row.
A man stood up. He was a Bandit Leader known as Blood-Axe Xiong, a brute at the Peak of Qi Condensation (Stage 6). His skin was the color of raw meat, and he carried a massive serrated axe that dripped a black, acidic ichor.
"I don't want the scabbard," Xiong growled, his eyes fixed on the two women behind Han Feng. "I just want to see the face of the brat who thinks he has enough 'pure' energy to open it. Or maybe I'll just take his head and his girls as a 'transaction fee.'"
The crowd laughed. In the Silver Moon Pavilion, strength was the only law.
"1,000," Han Feng said, ignoring the threat.
Xiong's face twisted. He slammed his axe onto the floor, cracking the stone. "You want to play, brat? I'll bid your life! 2,000 stones!"
"Sold to the gentleman in the back for 1,000," Merchant Mo said suddenly, his spider-eyes glinting with malice. "Because Blood-Axe Xiong has just offered to provide us with the evening's entertainment. The Silver Moon Pavilion recognizes a 'Trial of Ownership.' If you can survive the Blood-Axe, the scabbard is yours. If not... we keep the stones and the girls."
The Purification of the Axe
The auction hall was cleared in seconds, creating a makeshift arena. Blood-Axe Xiong stepped forward, his aura erupting in a cloud of crimson, foul-smelling mist.
"I'm going to peel the skin from your bones, boy," Xiong roared. He swung the massive axe in a vertical arc, the weight of the "Earth-Crushing Qi" making the air groan.
Han Feng didn't draw the Azure Phoenix Wing. He didn't even move his feet.
"You call that power?" Han Feng asked.
As the axe descended, Han Feng reached out with his bare hand.
The crowd gasped. Lin Xiruo moved to intervene, but a look from Han Feng stopped her.
CLANG.
The serrated, poison-dripping edge of the axe hit Han Feng's palm. But there was no blood. There was no sound of shattering bone. Instead, a blindingly white light erupted from the point of contact.
"Refine," Han Feng whispered.
The Purification Mirror didn't just block the strike; it used the axe as a straw. The crimson, tainted energy of Blood-Axe Xiong was forcefully sucked out of the weapon and into Han Feng's hand.
The axe, a high-grade Spirit Tool, began to wither. The black iron turned to grey rust. The crimson glow faded into a dull, lifeless brown.
"My... my Qi!" Xiong screamed. He tried to pull the axe back, but he was stuck. The Mirror was drinking the very cultivation from his meridians. His "Peak Stage 6" aura plummeted. Stage 5... Stage 3... Stage 1...
"I don't kill mortals, Xiong," Han Feng said, his voice cold as the void. "But I do remove the trash."
Han Feng closed his fist.
SHATTER.
The Blood-Axe exploded into a thousand pieces of non-magical iron. The backlash sent Xiong flying across the room, his body reverting to that of a weak, middle-aged man who had never held a sword in his life. He lay in the corner, gasping, his "Evil Path" cultivation utterly erased.
The silence in the Silver Moon Pavilion was absolute. Merchant Mo's spider-legs trembled.
Han Feng walked onto the stage and picked up the Heaven-Shatter Scabbard. It was a plain, wooden sheath, seemingly unremarkable. But the moment Han Feng's hand touched it, the "Clean-Lock" runes recognized its master.
The wood turned to white jade, and the opening glowed with the light of a thousand stars.
Han Feng drew the Azure Phoenix Wing and slid it into the scabbard.
SHING.
The fit was perfect. The moment the sword was sheathed, the overwhelming aura of the Earth Treasure vanished, hidden by the scabbard's unique "Purity-Seal." To any observer now, Han Feng was just a lowly disciple with a wooden stick.
Han Feng turned to the stunned crowd, his eyes lingering on Merchant Mo.
"The price was 1,000 stones," Han Feng said, tossing a small bag onto the stage. Inside weren't stones, but ten "Perfect Grade" Qi-Condensation Pills—the byproducts of his refinement of the Jade Spring Lotus.
The fragrance hit the hall like a tidal wave of life. Merchant Mo scrambled to grab the bag, his mechanical legs clicking frantically. "P-perfect... they're perfect!"
"Keep the change," Han Feng said, turning his back on the greed and the rot. "And tell the others. The Great Sanitizer is coming. If you want to keep your cultivation, I suggest you start cleaning your souls."
As they walked out of the city and back toward the Cloud-Mist Sect, Lin Xiruo looked at Han Feng with a mixture of fear and devotion.
"You just handed the Black Market the most valuable treasure in the Lower Realm," she said. "They will follow us."
"I know," Han Feng replied, looking up at the bruised sky. "I want them to. A fire needs fuel to grow, and the Cloud-Mist Sect is full of dry wood."