The hunting grounds stretched vast beneath the canopy of ancient trees, the air filled with the scent of wild herbs and the occasional distant roar of beasts. Rin walked ahead, pushing past thorny vines with her sword. Ash followed silently, his expression calm, but his eyes never idle.
It had been four days since the escort mission began.
Four days of Rin trying—subtly and not so subtly—to gain Ash's interest in her offer.
Four days of Ash dodging her advances—not romantic, but political.
> "My brothers are leagues above me in both cultivation and backing," she had said once, staring into the campfire.
"But I have instincts—and they're telling me that you're worth more than any clan elder."
Ash hadn't answered.
Not because he didn't care—but because he didn't want to care.
His thoughts were far from thrones and kingdoms. His focus lay in something deeper… more dangerous.
---
Meanwhile… Somewhere Else
In dark alleys beneath the imperial sky, within black-market auction halls of forbidden cities, a name was being whispered.
"Ghost Forger."
Blades that sliced through jade armor. Daggers that ignored elemental defenses. Swords infused with life—no, spirits—that danced in the wielder's hand.
Weapons of such craft that even elders of upper sects had begun to bid for them.
And no one knew who the Ghost Forger was.
Some claimed he was a rogue throne cultivator in hiding.
Others whispered he had access to an ancient divine spirit with smithing powers.
But the truth was far simpler.
He was a teenage boy, now walking through the forest beside a royal princess, swatting away flies.
Ash had sold another of Vulcan's blades just two weeks ago. A short spirit-infused saber.
The merchant who acted as his middleman had sent word through their secret channel:
> "The price doubled again. This is madness. They're demanding names, lineage, blood contracts."
Ash had burned the letter.
> Let them wonder, he had thought. So long as they don't come looking for me.
---
Back in the Forest
"Still thinking about it?" Rin asked suddenly, turning to look at him.
Ash raised a brow.
"About what?"
"My offer. Becoming my ally."
He gave a slight shake of the head.
"I don't involve myself in royal family feuds. I came from a nameless orphanage, not some power-hungry house."
Rin frowned. "And yet you hold strength nobles would kill for."
Ash didn't answer.
She looked away, annoyed. He didn't even care to ask about her brothers, or about her political enemies.
> He's so… frustratingly uninterested.
She stepped over a root and muttered, "You'll be dragged into this world whether you like it or not."
Ash replied dryly, "When that happens, I'll deal with it."
---
Far Above – Cloud Summit Sect
A scroll was slammed on the jade floor.
The head elder's voice trembled with both fury and intrigue.
> "Another Ghost Forger blade? In the hands of a rogue cultivator from the Blood Iron Guild?"
A group of seated elders murmured in agitation. One old man whispered, "We must find this craftsman. His methods… they're ancient."
A younger elder added, "Rumors say the blades are bound to spirits. That would require not just craftsmanship but… necromantic essence."
The hall fell silent.
Necromancy?
A taboo. Forbidden since the age of the Fallen Sect.
And yet—these weapons lived.
---
Back in Ash's Camp
That night, Ash sat by the fire again, Vulcan's spirit in shadow beside him, unseen by anyone else.
"You've caused quite a stir," Vulcan chuckled, hammering the air with his ethereal forge. "They're calling you Ghost Forger now."
Ash didn't even blink.
"I didn't ask for a name."
Vulcan smirked. "Too bad. You're already famous."
Ash sighed.
"I want power, not attention."
Vulcan looked toward the sleeping form of Rin by the tent.
> "She's not wrong, though. One day you'll be hunted. Either by your power… or the secret you hide."
Ash nodded slowly.
> "Then I'll become strong enough that hunting me would be suicide."
--