Chương 94: Hunting The Pearl’s Shadow

It was now March 16th, Age 1024. The morning was gloomy and heavy. No birds greeted anyone with their songs. Thick grey clouds sealed the sky and refused even a sliver of sun, as if the weather itself was telling us to be careful with the souls we had just burned. A cold, damp wind moved through the agency grounds. Rain and ash from the pyres two days earlier rode on it. It felt like the heavens were still mourning.

When morning fully hit us, we stood in the open Arena with the units who had survived the bandit raid. Zhuofing the Dirty Finger stepped forward. Gauntlets dull in the grey light. Voice cut through the damp air like a blade that had already been used.

"Look at who is still standing." He let the silence sit.

"We left this gate as one hundred. We came home as sixty-five. That number is not shame. It is price. The Bamboo Sea took brothers. It took sisters. It almost took Woushal. It did not take the Golden Tooth spirit."He pointed at the road beyond the walls.

"Today we do not march as an army to defend important cargo. Armies make loud noise. That type of noise gets graves. We go as a seathed blade with our proud standing elites, compact, fast, eyes open. We go to Xishhang for knowledge, not just for more glory. The pearl is not a trophy. It is a key. Keys attract thieves, scholars, and monsters wearing both faces." His gaze hit each of us.

"You carry the dead on your backs whether you admit it or not. Good. Use it. Do not waste their fire on pride. If I raise my hand, you stop. If I say we leave, we leave. If the wrong mouth smiles at the pearl, we close that mouth. We are Golden Tooth. We paid in blood. And now we fight for the one deal to reach new heights for our Agency." He slammed one gauntlet against the other.

"Move out on those name i call out." After the calls were made, the eleven of us prepared, not as an army this time, but as a strong, compact reconnaissance group, hunting information with the others who had a stake in the pearls. Zhuofing led ten elites, myself included. The rest stayed to guard the agency and heal. We traveled light given these mission parameters. We carried our preferred weapons. Each of us had a satchel filled with supplies like rice with meat and beans in a broth. The weight was very low.

The gravel road out of the city was clean and well-kept, a hard contrast to the broken, bloodstained paths of the Bamboo Sea. We moved at a brisk, high tempo. After five hours of steady marching we reached the Historian Seeker town of Xishhang in the early afternoon. As we walked, Zhuofing shared the plan.

"I've thought about this carefully," he said, voice low but firm.

"These Historian Seekers are proud. They guard knowledge like a hidden wound. If we go in demanding answers or flashing strength, they close the doors and give us nothing." He looked at each of us.

"My idea: we make a public request through the registry. We offer the iridescent pearl itself, or at least the chance to study it, as bait. Plus an incentive with a High reward of some coin. Very detailed description. We let the knowledgeable ones come to us out of curiosity and greed. The ones who truly understand the keys will show their faces." Xhife nodded slowly.

"It's smart father. They won't feel threatened. They'll come seeking profit and knowledge, but it can still be dangerous." Then one of the older elites asked, "What if the wrong people show up, like Xhife added dangerous looking ones that have vile plans?"

"Then we deal with them according to our moral compass, whether by a beating or death," Zhuofing said grimly.

"But this way we filter them naturally. Mo will like this plan. He's cautious one. He'll see the value in letting the knowledgeable hunt us instead of us chasing shadows across the whole continent." The idea sat well with all of us. It countered the excessive patience that time forced upon us, and by strategically turning the behest of others to our advantage, we became the beacon of light, not them.

A hunter's approach, rather than a reckless charge into the unknown, definitely sat better in my mind, as I only have a limited time here and I want to see the legendary book. We listened closely as Zhuofing explained how he would put it to Mo when we met. Xishhang in itself was a lively, ancient city built into the foothills of misty mountains. Grand stone buildings with curved tiled roofs stood tall along wide cobblestone streets. Colorful banners of old script snapped in the wind.

Auction houses with massive wooden doors and golden plaques lined the main avenue. Smaller scholar halls and tea houses sat between them like quiet teeth. The air smelled of ink, old paper, and incense. Here knowledge was currency. History was worshipped.

We arrived shortly after at the central Historian Seeker Registry, which stood tall as a grand multi-tiered building with soaring pillars, a large inscription carved above the entrance: Historia Magistra Vitae —"History is the Teacher of Life" No one from the other agencies seemed to have arrived yet. We waited ten minutes before Woushal showed up with his son Woushi and four trusted elites. They looked noticeably stronger. Two weeks of hard training showed on their posture.

Woushal and Zhuofing started throwing veiled insults at once. Old rivalry, back on its feet. Tension climbed until Shiqifan arrived with four of her trusted and cut through it with calm authority.

"Has Mo arrived yet?" she asked right away. As if on cue, Mo appeared with his twenty best members, returning the same powerful elites from the Merchant Trial, including Woushi, Woupali, Aifa, Lingo, Qubul, Qixian, and fifteen other battle-hardened warriors. Mo stepped forward.

"We should discuss how we approach this—" Zhuofing interrupted him, respectful but firm, and laid out the plan from the road. Mo listened. Stroked his chin. After a long moment he nodded.

"It's a sound idea. Let the knowledgeable ones come to us. Greed and curiosity are powerful motivators, indeed." We entered the registry together. Mo put 1, 000 osmium on the counter as reward, plus a highly detailed description of the iridescent pearl, as it has perfect round shape, shifting rainbow light, passive Animo absorption, ancient marking 「一」 at the bottom. The woman who took the parchment was Quifanlishi, nineteen, Historian Rank V. She studied the request. Her eyes widened a fraction.

She did not even need to post it.

"Wait outside," she said.

"The man who will definitely be interested will come shortly." We were confused. Requests like this usually took days. We waited outside. Twenty-two minutes later, an amber-hued man named Doushingu arrived. He was thirty-two. One meter seventy-five. Short messy hair under a worn worker's hat. Durable overalls reinforced with leather patches. Sturdy climber boots caked in mountain dust. A long multi-pocketed coat that looked like it had survived a hundred expeditions.

Tools, ropes, and small artifacts hung from his belt. He carried the unmistakable aura of a true adventurer. He introduced himself loud.

"So you want to know about the pearl I found? And you say there are more of them?" He rubbed his scalp.

"I found it running a mission on the Huangshali Mountain, near the workers' city of Dalakaichi. Took it off a dead monster's corpse. Wasn't even the main objective, so I sold it at auction. The marking looked like a toy. The ability was cute. Nothing special." Mo and all the leaders shuddered. Doushingu saw the reaction and smiled.

"You don't believe me?" He looked up at the sky. Dark-attribute Animo erupted. A partial Vestuto swallowed his body into a sleek monstrous silhouette. Mouth went demonic, short tongue. Whites of the eyes turned dark green. Pupils pure black. The air around him trembled hard. We all gulped. The pressure was immense. He dropped it and shrugged.

"Yeah… I'm strong." He showed surprisingly average-looking arms.

"See? Not even fully developed. But strength isn't always about muscles." We were stunned. This man sat past human reason.

"Follow me," Doushingu said.

"I have an idea, that could help." He led us deeper into the city, past grand auction houses, crowded streets, scholar halls, and hidden trading dens. History and commerce lived in the same throat. We reached the appraiser, Baobao Li. His shop sat off the main avenue like a mouth that had swallowed too many centuries. It had a narrow stone front and a faded gold plaque half-eaten by the weather.

The door was thick cedar, swollen from old rain, and when it opened, the smell hit first: dry parchment, crushed minerals, lamp oil, and something metallic under it all, like coins that had sat in a dead man's pocket. Inside, the light was low and amber. Shelves climbed the walls in crooked stacks, holding sealed jars of bone dust, cracked compasses, monster teeth tagged with silk string, and scrolls bound in faded leather. A brass scale hung from a beam and never quite stopped swinging.

Dust floated in the lamp-glow like slow ash. Baobao Li himself sat behind a low counter scarred by a thousand appraisals. He had a round face, ink-stained fingers, and eyes that measured value before they measured people. After an explanation and a short argument, he remembered.

"Ah… you mean Sheioufan, the Cold Mother of the Zhenhai Estate business. I remember seeing that she had a pearl just like that one," he said, pointing at ours.

"Stubborn old biddy she is, though. She'll definitely want something in return for that pearl, and knowing her, it will be something annoying." We asked for her location.

"She lives in the big blue temple on the hill. You passed it on the way here." We went at once. The hill wind was colder than the city. Blue tiles caught what little grey light the clouds allowed and threw it back like old ice. The temple doors stood shut, with no entry permissible without the owner. Incense ash lay scattered on the steps, and a single short letter rested on the ground:"I am out. Will return soon."

As we turned to leave, an old woman appeared with hunting gear: a bow, a skinning knife, and blood dried dark on one cuff. Her face was battered, as if she had recently fought something powerful, and it was twisted in a look of thundered anger. She tried to push through us, irritated. When we blocked her path, she attacked without hesitation, tooth and nail, in a wild rage. She was incredibly strong. We fought hard in the courtyard, boots scraping wet stone.

Her strikes had the weight of someone who had killed more animals than men and did not care about the difference of whom she fought. She refused to listen to our pleas to stop. Her patience, which was already thin, ran out completely as she struck at us. It was close to turning into a full-out brawl, with the dangerous potential of drawing many others from the city into this dispute. But then, luckily, just as she was about to strike at me, she saw what I was. Only when she saw me, a Suren, did she stop.

Her eyes narrowed.

"…A pale one? No way, here of all places?" she muttered. She then lowered her weapons and exhaled, steam leaving her mouth in the cold.

"Come inside," she said gruffly.

"I'll make tea for all, and you will tell me your reason for visiting this aged one."