“The gate!” Duc shrieked, his voice raw with a terror that hadn't quite left him. “They’ve opened the main gate! We can leave!” The chaotic exodus from the Obsidian Maw Mines was already underway. The viper-crested overseers, scattered after Jin's death, had abandoned their posts. Captive laborers surged toward the maw of the main exit tunnel where the first gray light filtered through rock fissures. Vo Ky, still in Bao’s slight form, watched them. Their scramble lacked order or formation. He despised mob riots—unrefined frenzies born of weakness. Yet he needed bodies between himself and the retribution sure to follow. “Not so fast, cowards!” he barked, his voice carrying an unnatural resonance that cut through the clamor. It carried the steel of absolute authority. The front ranks halted, stumbling against those behind them. “You think freedom is granted?” Vo Ky said. “The garrison will muster trackers before dawn. Break ranks into the brush, and their hounds will strip your marrow by noon. Move together under my word, or rot alone.” Murmurs solidified into nods. He extended an arm toward the northern ridges. “North. Through the dark gullies. No torches. No voices. Duc, take point. You know the quarry trails.” Duc hoisted a bulging leather satchel and a rosewood lockbox under his arm. Sweat streaked the soot on his cheeks, but a feral grin split his thin face as he took the lead into the tunnel. Vo Ky stood at the portal until the last escapee cleared the threshold, staring back into the hollow pits before vanishing into the night. They marched for hours under a sliver of moon, the air crisp and cold, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. The freed miners marched in tight files, dreading Bao far more than the lashes of their former handlers. Duc, surprisingly adept at navigating the treacherous, unmarked paths, kept a steady pace, glancing back periodically at Vo Ky, who moved with a silent, unnatural grace for a man in a slave’s body. He felt the residual hum of the Veil-Dragon’s Heart, the faint warmth of his nascent Qi, a mocking reminder of the boundless power he had once commanded. Around midnight, they found a secluded gully, shielded by thick stands of Ironbark trees, a suitable place to rest. Small, quickly doused fires were lit, more for psychological comfort than actual warmth. The air buzzed with low whispers, the incredulity of their escape still fresh. Vo Ky sat apart, near a smoldering ember, his eyes fixed on the distant, unblinking stars. Vo Ky mapped the frontier garrisons in his thoughts. The river settlement of Timberport lay directly ahead—an essential crossroads for trade and, crucially, intelligence. Duc, after ensuring the others were settled, approached Vo Ky cautiously, carrying a small, roasted grimp-rat. He offered half to Bao, who accepted it with a curt nod. “We… we did it, Bao,” Duc whispered, chewing slowly. “We’re out. We’re truly out.” Vo Ky tore into the meat, his gaze still distant. “This is merely the start, Duc. Freedom is a fleeting illusion without power.” “But… what now? Where do we go? The ledger I took from Elder Jin’s office… it has names. Powerful names. And coin. Enough coin to buy passage to the Azure Peaks, maybe even a small estate!” Duc’s voice was filled with a childish wonder, a dream already taking shape in his mind. He pulled out the heavy leather-bound book, its cover emblazoned with a tarnished silver serpent, and the small wooden box. Opening the box, he revealed a handful of glimmering spirit-stones, their ambient Qi a stark contrast to the oppressive spiritual poverty of the mines. Vo Ky looked at the ledger, then at the spirit-stones. “Useful,” Vo Ky said, nudging an azure crystal with his knuckle. “Temporary. Jin’s syndicate will hunt the theft as fiercely as the escape.” “But you… you killed Jin. You faced the Ghost. The others, they look at you like you’re a god!” Duc’s voice dropped, tinged with a genuine curiosity. “Why bother keeping the rabble grouped?” Duc asked, lowering his voice. “You could have slipped the perimeter alone. You aren't built like a savior, Bao. You look at us like raw iron.” Vo Ky’s eyes, dark as obsidian, finally met Duc’s. There was no warmth there, only an ancient, chilling resolve. “Benevolence is a weakness. A luxury I cannot afford. These… people,” he gestured dismissively at the sleeping forms, “are a shield. A distraction. A means to an end.” Vo Ky poked the fire with a blackened twig. “My old vessel is a pyre, Duc. Lien Hua will ignite the Demonic Sovereign’s core during the celestial conjunction to force her own ascension. If the ritual concludes, nothing in this realm can touch her.” Duc clutched the spirit-stones against his chest, staring at the scrawny youth before him in absolute bewilderment. “I no longer seek to inhabit that shell,” Vo Ky said. “I will crack it open and scatter the marrow before she lights the pyre. To butcher my own flesh, I require armaments, coin, and marrow-forged soldiers. The laborers sleeping there are simply the vanguard.” Before Duc could articulate the whirlwind of fear and awe that now churned within him, a disturbance rippled through the clearing. A figure emerged from the shadows of the Ironbark trees, cloaked and hooded, moving with an almost unnatural silence. Behind him, two broad-shouldered sentries bearing the sigil of Timberport kept watch, fingers hooked over their scabbards. The cloaked figure lowered his hood, revealing graying temples and scarred knuckles. “Forgive the late hour,” the stranger said, looking straight at Vo Ky. “I am Envoy Ren, speaking for Lord Tien of Timberport. We tracked your column from the ravine. My master extends an invitation to treat.”

The Road to Blackwood