Chapter 165: Phantom Pursuit
Su Tianhao walked out of the main hall without drawing attention, moving at an unhurried pace toward the entrance. His brows furrowed slightly in contemplation.
'It's no use thinking about it,' he told himself. 'I take it I'm not fated for the Ethereal Mind Crystal.'
His expression eased, settling back into its usual calm.
No matter what, he had gained much today. The Bloodroot Vitality Pill and the Raging Viscera Tonic were secured. Soul crystals could cover what the Ethereal Mind Crystal was meant to do—not as effective, but sufficient.
'It's time to cultivate seriously.'
Behind him, completely unnoticed, six massive figures trailed from the shadows. Their auras and movements were perfectly concealed.
"Should we act now?" one of them muttered, eyes fixed on Su Tianhao with predatory focus.
"Fool. Do you even know where you are?" his companion hissed. "This is the Drifting Cloud Auction. You can't kill here."
"He's right," a third said. "The Drifting Cloud Auction is a third-rate force—same rank as the Phantom Blade Faction. If we act here, we'd be shooting ourselves in the foot."
"Exactly. Not even the Young Lord could shield us from their retaliation."
"Then what do we do?" the first man said, impatience edging into his voice.
A figure standing behind the others spoke, a vicious glint in his eyes. "We follow him. We track him. We wait for the perfect moment."
A pause.
"Then we strike."
---
Outside, the afternoon sun stood high, casting warm light across the rooftops. The sky was filled with drifting clouds—shifting and changing, ever flowing, never still.
The moment Su Tianhao stepped out, the scene before him stopped him short.
"What the—"
A crowd of people had gathered outside the auction—commoners, merchants, and rogue cultivators alike, each one either displaying wares on worn mats or calling out to passersby. A small cultivator bazaar had sprouted at the doorstep of the Drifting Cloud Auction, feeding off the excitement of the event.
The moment he appeared, his aura and bearing drew attention like moths to flame. The crowd surged forward.
"Young Master! A genuine Wind-Cleaving Talisman, inscribed by a grade 2 master!"
"Senior! Spirit-nourishing incense—guaranteed to calm qi deviation!"
"High-grade beast cores, straight from the Obsidian Mountains! One sniff and you'll know they're fresh!"
"Refined Spirit Silk robes! Woven under a full moon—lightweight and resistant to extreme cold!"
"Esteemed cultivator, one look at your bearing and I can tell you're a man of taste! Care for a vial of Heavenly Fragrance Powder? Works wonders on both men and women!"
Su Tianhao blinked.
'Did the auction hall spawn a marketplace?'
"Sorry," he said calmly. "I'm not looking to buy anything."
He gathered his spiritual energy, his figure glowing faintly gold for just a moment—
Whoosh.
He blurred past the crowd in a streak of light, reappearing several metres ahead. His destination was the Thousand Beast Pavilion—the last material he needed, soul crystals, was waiting there. He moved steadily, weaving through the crowd with effortless ease.
---
The first few minutes passed without incident.
Then it hit him—a wave of dread, sudden and unannounced, washing over him like cold water.
Su Tianhao froze mid-step.
A chill crawled down his spine. His senses sharpened instantly. His eyes swept the street—merchants called out from their stalls, cultivators strolled past, pedestrians moved without urgency. No murderous intent. No eyes on him. Nothing visibly out of place.
'Why am I feeling this way?'
Then it struck him.
Dragon Instincts.
His eyes widened. That primal awareness—deep, ancient, and never wrong—was flaring. It was the same instinct that had saved him from Su Liang's trap. The instinct that had never failed him.
'Someone's after me.'
His golden eyes narrowed.
'And this threat—I can't afford to face it head-on.'
Whatever was closing in on him wasn't just dangerous. It was lethal. He could feel it in his bones.
Without hesitation, he abandoned his plan to visit the Thousand Beast Pavilion and slipped smoothly into the flow of the crowd—fluid, deliberate, like a fish weaving through reeds. The throng became his veil, and he disappeared into its depths.
---
Hidden within the shadows, the six massive men watched.
Muscles coiled beneath dark cloaks, eyes locked on Su Tianhao like wolves measuring prey. When he suddenly stopped, their expressions sharpened. When he began scanning his surroundings, their expressions darkened.
"He's noticed?" one muttered.
Impossible, the others thought. Their concealment technique was flawless. There was no way he could have detected them.
But then he slipped into the crowd—smooth, deliberate, like a fox retreating into brush—and their disbelief curdled into fury.
"AFTER HIM!"
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Six auras erupted almost simultaneously, crashing outward like a tidal wave. The air trembled under the combined pressure of six Martial Core Realm experts. The ground vibrated. The street recoiled.
With a battle cry, the men broke cover and surged forward—massive frames moving at shocking speed, like panthers let loose from chains, carving through the street in blurs of dark motion.
Chaos broke out instantly. Civilians screamed. Stalls overturned. Merchants fled. Crates of herbs and spirit talismans scattered across the ground as cultivators leapt aside to avoid being trampled.
Su Tianhao glanced over his shoulder.
His pupils contracted.
'Martial Core Realm... six of them.'
"Dammit!" he breathed, weaving between startled pedestrians, his body moving on instinct.
Behind him, the pursuit only grew louder—heavy footsteps cracking the earth, closing in with terrifying momentum.
Boom!
A flicker of spiritual light tore through the air—a long-range spiritual blast, launched from the palm of one of the pursuers.
'Spiritual energy attack. The signature ability that separates Martial Core Realm experts from those below.'
Before a Martial Core Realm expert, all those beneath are little more than fleeting flies.
"Shit!"
Su Tianhao twisted mid-stride and threw himself sideways—
Boom!
A violent explosion erupted directly behind him, hurling stone and debris in every direction. The shockwave rippled outward, toppling nearby stalls and sending bystanders flying. The street cracked. Dust rose. The smell of scorched air flooded the space.
"He's fast!" one attacker snarled.
Another drew a long black blade from his spatial ring and slashed it forward through the air.
"Phantom Edge!"
A dark crescent of sword energy ripped toward Su Tianhao's back like a vengeful ghost.
He didn't hesitate. He planted his foot against a nearby cart and launched himself upward—body flipping once cleanly before landing on a low rooftop.
Boom!
The Phantom Edge sliced through the cart he had used, continued onward, and split the stone wall behind it clean in half.
Su Tianhao gritted his teeth. 'These men aren't holding back.'
But his expression stayed level. Sharp. Controlled.
'Think. You can't outrun them forever. You can't fight them head-on. You need to vanish.'
He pushed across the rooftop, concentrating his spiritual energy into a single point. His body surged with golden light. The wind howled as he leapt from one rooftop to the next, azure robes flaring behind him like a comet crossing the sky.
Below, two of the six leapt onto the rooftops in pursuit. The remaining four stayed on the ground, flanking through alleyways and cutting across buildings to box him in.
"Don't let him escape! Surround him!"
One of the rooftop pursuers formed a hand seal.
"Phantom Lock: Shadow Bind!"
Dozens of spectral chains erupted from the shadows, snaking toward Su Tianhao like vipers.
He saw them coming. He pushed off the tiles mid-stride and dove—the chains lashed past him, tearing through roof tiles and snapping wood. He hit the street below, rolled to absorb the impact, and kept running without breaking stride.
'They're pushing harder than I expected,' he thought, breath short but steady.
Then—ahead of him—a narrow alley, thick with smoke pouring from a nearby incense shop. The air inside was murky, heavy, layered.
His eyes lit up.
'Let's see if you can follow me through this.'
He plunged into the alley and vanished into the smoke.
One of the rooftop pursuers landed hard on the street behind him, skidding forward with a growl.
From above, another called out: "Don't lose him! The Young Lord's orders were clear—he must not leave Cloudrise alive!"
---
Su Tianhao moved without hesitation through the smoky alley, body surging with focus.
He emerged onto a wide open street—bustling, orderly, alive with foot traffic.
His eyes sharpened.
'This is my chance.'
He activated the Shrouded Dragon Veil, shifting directly into the Phantom Cloak.
In an instant, the golden light vanished. His aura disappeared. His very presence seemed to dissolve into the air—no footsteps, no breath, not even the faintest rustle of movement to betray him. He stood among the crowd like mist given shape, indistinct and untouchable.
He melted into the flow of people and was gone.
---
The six men burst out of the alley and into the open street—and found nothing.
No trace. No aura. No shadow.
"Impossible!" one of them growled. "I saw him come this way!"
"I tracked his aura right to this point—and then nothing!" another snapped.
The others stood with grim, ashen faces.
They had broken the Phantom Blade Faction's cardinal rule—never expose your hand. Instead, they had stirred up chaos in broad daylight, drawn attention across an entire district, and lost their target.
Mo Tianye's words echoed in their minds like a blade at their throats:
'Track him down, and find a suitable place to end him. No witnesses. No errors.'
Everything they had done was the exact opposite.
Their fists clenched.
"Dammit!" they cursed in unison.
---
Still cloaked in the Phantom Cloak, Su Tianhao moved carefully through the crowd toward the Cloudveil Resthouse. He had lost them—but he didn't let his guard down. His aura stayed hidden, his body wrapped in silence, his eyes alert.
He hadn't noticed the figure seated on a weathered bench across the street.
A towering middle-aged man. Shaggy hair, an unkempt beard streaked with white, and eyes as sharp as blades. His aura was feral, untamed—like a great tiger lying still beneath the surface, waiting.
Those eyes followed Su Tianhao's cloaked figure without blinking—as if they could see straight through the veil.
In truth, the Phantom Cloak didn't render him invisible. It erased his aura and masked his presence, but a cultivator's eyes could still perceive his physical form if he entered their line of sight. True invisibility required staying outside that line entirely—the technique was built for ambush, not open streets. And this man's gaze made clear that the distinction mattered.
"Su Tianhao..." the man murmured, his voice low and rough as grinding stone. "It's time you learned the cruelty of this world."
He rose slowly, his massive frame unfolding like a beast stirring from deep sleep. Without a sound, without a single ripple of spiritual energy, he stepped into the crowd—and disappeared, as if he had never been there at all.
Only the faint impression remained in the weathered wood of the bench where he had sat—and the quiet sense that something dangerous had just been set into motion.