The forbidden archive smelled like old dust and something sharp, metallic – the ghost of the bronze brazier Ye Chen had just erased. He stared at the unnaturally smooth scoop taken out of it, the edges cleaner than any blade could cut. It screamed of the void's terrifying hunger, a hunger that lived inside him now. The Devourer. Black Vale. The words stuck in his head like poisoned thorns. His own void core pulsed in response, a cold, answering echo to the horror trapped in the jade slip. Was this his future? A monster? Or was the void just a tool, something those lofty Celestial Overlords wanted to leash?
Another wave of dizziness hit, worse this time, carrying a deep ache right down to his bones. Using the void wasn't free. He felt… thinner. Weaker. Like a piece of his very life had vanished along with the bronze. Lifespan. It costs lifespan. The realization was a punch to the gut. He couldn't just fling this power around. Every flicker brought him closer to crumbling and risked unleashing something he couldn't put back.
He yanked a mildewed tapestry off the wall and threw it over the ruined brazier. His small hands shook, not from fear, but from sheer exhaustion and the icy weight of this new math governing his survival. He needed strength. Control. Resources to get to the Black Vale – which sounded less like a place and more like the mouth of oblivion. And he needed it before the Scarlet Moon wolves came back.
Dawn was just a grey smudge when he slipped back into his room. He fumbled the jade vial open. Inside, the eight droplets of perfected Spring Dew Elixir glowed with a soft, vital warmth. He tipped one onto his tongue. Cool, pure energy flooded his battered meridians. Like rain hitting sunbaked earth. It soothed the ragged edges of his spirit, pushed back the void-fatigue just a fraction. It wouldn't give him back the years he'd lost, but it put steel back into his muscles, cleared the fog from his mind. He tucked the vial away carefully. Liquid gold.
The Scarlet Moon envoys didn't arrive quietly. Three Spirit Condensation experts in blood-red robes, silver crescents glittering, rode sleek, scaled Spirit Leopards. Their presence alone crushed the morning air in the Azure Night compound. Disciples froze mid-step. Elders spilled out of halls, faces like stone. Clan Lord Ye Zhan stood ramrod straight at the courtyard's head, but Ye Chen, watching from a shadowed arch, saw the tightness around his father's eyes, the white-knuckled grip on his ceremonial sword.
The lead envoy – thin lips, eyes like chips of black glass – swung down without a word. His gaze scraped over the clan like a blade. "Ye Zhan," his voice was a dry rasp that carried too far. "The tribute. Ready?"
Ye Zhan stepped forward. "Envoy Jin. The demands… they are… significant. The Azure Night Clan requests negotiation. We are loyal—"
"Loyal?" Envoy Jin cut him off with a laugh like cracking ice. "You are vassals. Vassals pay. Or they are reminded." A snap of his fingers. One of the others tossed a heavy burlap sack onto the stones at Ye Zhan's feet. Thud. Wet. Meaty. "The Green Pine Clan Lord. He also… negotiated."
A gasp ripped through the crowd. Horror. Fury. Ye Chen saw his father flinch, then lock his expression down hard. The message was brutal: argue, die. Now.
Ye Zhan's head bowed, heavy with defeat. "The tribute… will be gathered. We need… one more week."
Envoy Jin's lips curled. "Need? You have until sunset." He turned, boot scraping stone as he moved to his leopard.
Now. The thought was ice in Ye Chen's veins. Waiting meant ruin. Paying meant bleeding out slowly. He needed chaos. Leverage. He needed to knock this smug bastard off balance.
He stepped out of the shadows. A child against the red-robed giants and their beasts. His voice cut the heavy silence, unnervingly calm: "Envoy Jin. The Scarlet Moon respects strength, yes?"
Envoy Jin paused. Turned slowly. Those obsidian eyes fixed on Ye Chen, a gaze meant to freeze children solid. "Who is this gnat that speaks?"
Ye Zhan whipped around, face pale. "Chen'er! Silence! Get inside!" Raw fear choked his command.
Ye Chen kept his eyes locked on Jin. "Ye Chen. Heir. Even a gnat bites, Envoy. Especially one with nothing left." He threw Jin's own threat back at him. "But bites are messy. I propose a wager. A test." He pulled out the jade vial. The soft glow of the seven droplets caught the thin morning light. He'd swallowed two more for the nerves before stepping out. "Spring Dew Elixir. Purified. Perfected. Mine."
A snort from another envoy. "Child's slop. Trash."
"Test it," Ye Chen said, holding the vial out. Steady hand. "One drop. If it's not mid-Grade 1 by your measure…" He raised his left hand, small and bare. "I offer my hand. For wasting your time."
The silence that fell was absolute. Thicker than Jin's aura. Ye Zhan made a strangled sound. His hand? For a potion?
Envoy Jin stared. At the vial. At the impossible calm in the child's eyes. The sheer, suicidal gall of it… it pricked him. Curiosity? Or just the chance for cruelty? A slow, nasty smile spread. "A hand? Big stakes for such a small limb. Fine, gnat. Amuse me." He jerked his chin at the sneering envoy. "Test it."
The envoy snatched the vial, uncorked it, sniffed disdainfully. Then paused. Surprise flickered. He dipped a sliver of spirit-jade into a droplet. It flared – a vibrant, pure green light, way brighter than Spring Dew ever managed. His sneer vanished. "Envoy Jin… this… it's pushing Grade 2! From base junk!"
Envoy Jin's dark eyes snapped to Ye Chen, sharp and greedy. The nasty smile widened. "Interesting. The gnat has a stinger after all. Keep your hand… for now. What's the real play, boy?"
Ye Chen's heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird, but his voice held. "Half the tribute now. The other half… in one week. In return…" He let the pause hang, thick with tension. "In return, the Scarlet Moon grants Azure Night one request. Minor. A boon. For a vassal showing… unexpected value." He put the weight on value. His value.
Envoy Jin studied him. Ye Chen could almost hear the gears grinding. A kid who could turn trash into near-Grade 2 elixirs. That was value. Squeezable value. Crushing the clan now wasted it. Take the tribute, maybe leash the asset… smarter.
"Half now," Jin rasped. "Half in seven days. The request… considered. Fail to deliver, or if this 'talent' vanishes…" He didn't finish. His eyes flicked to Ye Chen's left hand, then deliberately to Ye Zhan. "We take more than hands. Sunset."
He snatched the vial, pocketing the six remaining drops. Without another glance, he mounted his leopard. The envoys wheeled, their oppressive aura pulling back like a receding bloodstain, leaving the courtyard choked with stunned silence and the sour tang of terror.
Ye Zhan swayed, his face grey. He turned to Ye Chen, a storm of relief, fury, and utter confusion in his eyes. "Chen'er… what… what were you thinking? Your hand?"
Ye Chen met his father's gaze. The old emperor's resolve was back, tempered by the void's chill and the bitter taste of a desperate win. "We bought time, Father. And a maybe-boon. Madness?" He shook his head slightly. "It was the only move we had." He looked down at his small, unmarked left hand. It had been the gamble, the proof of his desperation. But the real cost felt deeper. The void inside him stirred, colder, hungrier after the clash. It had fed on his fear, his gamble, the near loss. The Black Vale yawned before him, darker and more urgent. The path was steeper, more dangerous, but he'd forced the door open. The real game was on.