The morning after Stonebridge Pass was quiet in Emerald Haven, but the stillness was deceptive. Beneath the surface, messengers carried sealed scrolls between sects, merchants whispered in shadowed corners, and bounty hunters sharpened their blades.
The Iron Mandate's report had spread faster than wildfire. Li Fan resisted arrest, crippled twelve elite enforcers, and declared war on the Eastern Celestial Court.
Half of it was a lie. The other half was twisted truth. But to the people, the details didn't matter—only the narrative.
In the grand hall of the Celestial Court, the High Magistrate unrolled the official decree. His voice rang out, cold and final:
> "Li Fan of the Nine Cauldron Arts is hereby declared a wilden, a threat to the stability of the realm. Any sect, clan, or wandering cultivator who shelters him will share his fate."
The decree was nailed to the gates of cities, carved into stone at crossroads, and carried on banners into the provinces.
Li Fan heard of it three days later, sitting by a stream in the borderlands, repairing his torn cloak. Wen Rourou approached, her expression unreadable.
"They've set the whole realm against you," she said quietly. "Even your allies will turn away now. It's not fear of you—it's fear of standing with you."
Li Fan tied the last knot in the cloth and stared at the rushing water. "They think they can break me by isolating me."
"They don't need to break you," Wen Rourou replied. "They only need to make you believe you're already broken."
That night, they camped beneath a stand of wind-worn pines. Li Fan's senses stayed alert, scanning the forest for movement. Twice, he caught the glint of eyes in the dark—scouts. Neither approached, but their presence spoke volumes.
By the third night, the watchers multiplied.
The fourth night, they struck.
A ring of fire erupted around the camp, forcing Li Fan and Wen Rourou into the open. Dozens of figures emerged from the trees—sect mercenaries, bounty hunters, and wandering swordsmen. Their faces were hidden, but their intent was clear.
"You've made the realm bleed enough," one called. "Tonight, we end this."
Li Fan's grip tightened on his blade. The Seventh Cauldron's power thrummed through him, begging to be unleashed. But he saw the trap for what it was—this was not a battle to kill him, but to exhaust him.
He smiled faintly. "If you've come to hunt a wilden… then you'd best be ready to face the beast."
The forest shook with the force of his first strike.
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