Cold wind slashed across Ji Yan's face like a rusty blade. Frost crusted his eyelashes as he clung to the frozen rock face of Mount Cang. Below, a sheer drop of three thousand feet ended in jagged stone teeth. One slip would paint the rocks red. He refused to let that happen. Memories of his childhood on the powerful Lord's estate kept his grip firm. Growing up as a nameless orphan in those gilded halls, he had learned that survival required absolute obedience on the outside, and absolute steel on the inside. They had treated him like a dog. Powerful cultivators viewed mortals as mere grass, stepping on them to climb higher. He had bent his knees, bowed his head, and let them believe he was a spineless puppet. But bending was not surrendering. His will remained straight, unyielding, waiting for the perfect moment to strike back. Now, as a low-tier herb-gatherer for the Heaven-Severing Sect, he was still at the bottom of the food chain. Squeezing his numbed fingers into a narrow crevice, he searched for the Frost-Heart Herb. Blood dripped from his torn cuticles, freezing instantly into tiny crimson beads. "Hurry up, useless dog!" A voice boomed from the ledge above. Senior Disciple Zhou stood there, wrapped in thick, insulated fox furs. His face was twisted in a sneer of pure impatience. Zhou held a heavy leather whip in his right hand, tapping it against his thigh. "If you don't find three stalks of Frost-Heart Herb in the next ten minutes, I'll toss you off this cliff myself," Zhou barked, his breath puffing in white clouds. Ji Yan kept his face completely blank. Anger was a luxury he couldn't afford. Instead, he forced his trembling muscles to relax, bowing his head in submission. "Right away, Senior Disciple," Ji Yan said, his voice raspy from the freezing cold. Clambering onto the narrow ledge beside Zhou, Ji Yan carefully handed over the single frozen stalk he had managed to extract. Their hands brushed. It was a brief, accidental contact. Suddenly, a violent jolt of spiritual energy surged through Ji Yan's chest. Hidden beneath his coarse tunic, the Mirror of Severed Karma vibrated violently against his skin. A cold, mechanical sensation flooded his mind. An image flickered in his mind's eye, projected by the stolen treasure. Numbers, glowing with a ghastly, pale green light, materialized over Zhou's head. 00:42:00. Forty-two minutes. Zhou would die in exactly forty-two minutes. Ji Yan's heart hammered against his ribs. How could a Peak Qi Condensation cultivator like Zhou die so quickly on this familiar mountain? Scanning the area, Ji Yan noticed the faint, greasy residue on Zhou's leather boots. Black slime. It smelled faintly of sulfur and decaying flesh. Obsidian Centipede grease. Realization struck Ji Yan like an icy wave. Zhou wasn't here to supervise herb gathering. He had tracked a venomous Obsidian Centipede to its lair. Such beasts were highly territorial and lethal, possessing a core that could help a Qi Condensation cultivator break through to the Foundation Establishment stage. But they were also incredibly fast and guarded their nests with deadly acid. To harvest the core, one needed bait. Someone expendable. Someone like Ji Yan. Cold sweat broke out on Ji Yan's back, freezing almost instantly against his skin. Zhou planned to throw him into the centipede's nest. While the beast was busy dissolving Ji Yan's flesh, Zhou would strike from behind and steal the core. "What are you staring at, trash?" Zhou growled, shoving Ji Yan roughly. "Move your useless legs. There's a cave just around this ridge. The herbs are thicker there." Ji Yan stumbled, catching himself on the icy rock face. His mind raced, his thoughts clicking together like the gears of a complex clock. Thirty-eight minutes left. Trusting anyone in this world was a disease. He had learned that lesson when his entire childhood clan was slaughtered, their souls harvested to power a local lord's defensive formation. Nobody was coming to save him. He had to save himself. "Of course, Senior Disciple," Ji Yan muttered, keeping his head low to hide the cold calculations running through his eyes. "Lead the way. I will gather whatever you need." --- They walked in silence along the narrow, wind-swept path. Every step brought them closer to the dark yawning mouth of a cavern ahead. Inside, the air was heavy with the stench of decay and sulfur. Zhou's breathing became shallow, his hand drifting toward the hilt of his iron sword. Ji Yan checked the mental timer. Twelve minutes. "Walk faster," Zhou whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of greed and fear. "Go inside and scout. If you see any glowing blue moss, harvest it." Glowing blue moss didn't grow in centipede nests. Zhou was lying, trying to coax him deeper into the trap. Ji Yan stepped into the cavern, his soft leather boots making no sound on the damp stone. Black, glassy rocks lined the walls, shining like polished obsidian. Deep within the shadows, a low, clicking sound resonated. It was the sound of dozens of armored legs scraping against stone. Ji Yan's pulse spiked, but he forced his breathing to remain slow and steady. Five minutes. "Do you see anything?" Zhou called out from just behind him, his grip on his sword tightening. "I think... I see something glowing," Ji Yan lied, stepping further into the darkness. He knew the exact layout of this cave from previous gatherers' journals he had bribed a library disciple to read. A narrow crack ran along the left wall, just wide enough for a slender youth to squeeze into. Two minutes. Suddenly, a massive shape shifted in the darkness ahead. Multiple crimson eyes flared to life, glowing with primitive fury. An Obsidian Centipede, easily fifteen feet long, uncoiled from the ceiling. Its armored plates clicked together, a horrific sound that echoed off the cave walls. "Now!" Zhou roared, lunging forward. Instead of attacking the beast, Zhou grabbed Ji Yan's shoulder, aiming to fling him directly into the creature's path. Ji Yan was prepared. He didn't resist the throw; instead, he used Zhou's momentum to slide low, twisting his body toward the narrow crack in the wall. Zhou stumbled forward, surprised by the lack of resistance. Thirty seconds. The centipede hissed, its mandibles dripping with thick, yellow venom. Seeing two intruders, it chose the larger, more threatening target. Zhou quickly recovered, drawing his sword and channeling his Qi. "Die, beast!" Zhou yelled, swinging his blade. A faint glow of white Qi enveloped the sword, clashing against the centipede's hard outer shell. Sparks flew, illuminating the grim cavern. But the beast's armor was too thick. Ten seconds. Ji Yan squeezed himself deep into the narrow crack, his back scraping against the sharp stone. He watched the countdown in his mind. 00:00:05. 00:00:04. 00:00:03. 00:00:02. 00:00:01. Exactly at zero, the centipede's head swelled, its throat sac glowing a sickening green. Zhou was mid-swing, completely open. A torrent of highly concentrated acid erupted from the centipede's mouth. Ji Yan ducked his head, pulling his limbs tightly into the crevice. Searing heat washed over the cave. The acid missed Ji Yan by inches, splashing directly onto Zhou's chest. A blood-curdling shriek shattered the silence of the cavern. Zhou fell to his knees, his sword clattering to the ground. Flesh and bone dissolved instantly under the corrosive liquid. Within seconds, Zhou's screams faded into a wet, bubbling gurgle. His body melted into a bubbling puddle of green sludge, leaving only a pile of dissolved clothes and his pristine spatial ring. The centipede, exhausted from expelling its lethal acid, hissed weakly. Ji Yan didn't hesitate. Grabbing a heavy, pointed rock from the floor, he lunged out of the crevice. He drove the stone directly into the soft, unarmored joint behind the centipede's head. Purple blood sprayed as the beast thrashed, then went completely still. Silence returned to the cavern, broken only by the sound of Ji Yan's heavy breathing. He had survived. His calculation had been flawless. Walking slowly toward the green puddle, he looked down at the remains of his tormentor. A cold smile touched his lips. This was the reality of the cultivation world. Power was everything, and ruthlessness was the only path to power. As Ji Yan reaches down to loot Zhou's spatial ring, his fingertips brush the cold jade, causing his own reflection in the Mirror of Severed Karma to warp, revealing his own death-date has suddenly jumped forward by three whole years.

Chapter 1: A Breath Bought in Blood