Nine Nights Owl Song

When Chen Xiaotian was rescued, he had already fainted from fright.

When the six silver-ranked assassins, whose Achilles tendons had been severed or whose bones had been broken, were carried back to the camp, the entire Dark Pavilion was shaken.

The fact that the deputy pavilion master's only son was beaten like this is unprecedented in the history of the Dark Pavilion.

The person who made the move was the youngest top assassin in the Dark Pavilion, a fifteen-year-old girl codenamed Night Owl.

The news spread to every corner of Cangwu Mountain within half an hour.

Inside the stone house, Ajiu sat cross-legged, circulating her inner energy through her meridians, gradually expelling the residual poison from the Soft Bone Powder from her body. Her left hand was wrapped in blood-stained cloth, and the knife in her right hand rested horizontally on her knee, its blade gleaming coldly in the moonlight.

Her eyes were closed, her breath was long and shallow, and her heartbeat was slow, like a statue.

She knew a storm was coming.

But she didn't run, she didn't hide, and she didn't ask anyone for help. She just sat in her stone house and waited.

In the darkest moment before dawn, footsteps could be heard outside the stone house.

It wasn't just one person's footsteps; it was the footsteps of many.

Footsteps converged from all directions along the mountain path, surrounding the stone house.

The torchlight shone through the cracks in the windows, illuminating the stone house.

Ajiu opened her eyes, picked up the knife from her lap, stood up, and pushed open the door.

There were at least thirty or forty people outside the door.

Leading the way was the Dark Pavilion's enforcement team, all dressed in uniform black, with specially made enforcement knives hanging at their waists. The scabbards were engraved with red lotus patterns—the Dark Pavilion's enforcement team's mark, the Red Lotus. Wherever the Red Lotus went, blood would inevitably splatter on the spot.

On either side of the law enforcement team were assassins who had rushed over after hearing the news. Some stood in the trees, some squatted on the roof, and some leaned against the rocks in the distance, like a flock of vultures that had smelled blood, waiting to watch a good show.

A middle-aged man stood in the center of the law enforcement team.

He was in his forties, with a burly build, a square face, thick eyebrows, tightly pursed lips, and eyes like two knives, sharp and cold.

He was dressed in a black brocade robe, with a white jade belt around his waist, and held a long, jet-black sword in his hand, the scabbard inlaid with a ruby ​​the size of a pigeon's egg.

Chen Beixuan, Deputy Pavilion Master of the Dark Pavilion.

He is at the peak of the Transformation Realm, only one step away from the Core Formation Realm. He is recognized as the second strongest expert in the Dark Pavilion, second only to the Underworld King.

Chen Beixuan looked at Ajiu, his gaze sweeping from her face to her left hand wrapped in bandages, and then to the blood-stained straight knife in her hand.

He didn't show any extra expression.

There was only one thing on his face—murderous intent.

"Night Owl"

His voice was deep and steady, like a stone thrown into a deep well; it wasn't loud, but everyone could hear it clearly.

"The rules of the Dark Pavilion forbid assassins from engaging in private duels. Violators will have their martial arts skills revoked, be expelled from the Dark Pavilion, and have all items given to them by the Dark Pavilion confiscated. You injured six people and seriously wounded my son. According to the rules, you should be executed. Do you have anything to say?"

Ajiu looked at him, remained silent for a moment, and then said something that surprised everyone.

"Your son's life is a life, and so is mine. If he tries to harm me, I'll harm him. If the rules of the Dark Pavilion can't control him, then I will."

There was silence all around.

The torches crackled in the night wind, sending sparks flying that landed on the muddy ground and quickly went out.

Chen Beixuan narrowed his eyes.

"You mean you don't respect the rules of the Dark Pavilion?"

His voice was even lower than before, so low it sounded like it was being squeezed out from deep in his throat.

"You set the rules, and you yourselves don't follow them, so why should I?"

Ah Jiu's voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear.

"Chen Xiaotian set a trap for me at Wangyue Cliff, using poison, ambushes, and overwhelming me with numbers. Doesn't this comply with the rules of the Dark Pavilion? He violated the rules, so where was your enforcement team? Now that he's injured, you've arrived. Are the rules of the Dark Pavilion truly rules, or just tools in the hands of you, Chen and his son?"

A slight commotion arose from the crowd.

Some whispered among themselves, some exchanged glances, and some silently took a few steps back, hiding themselves in the shadows.

In a place like the Dark Pavilion, no one dared to openly support Ah Jiu, but no one thought she was wrong either.

Chen Beixuan's expression finally changed.

It wasn't anger, but something far more dangerous—alertness.

He looked at Ajiu, as if reassessing the fifteen-year-old girl in front of him.

She is not just a knife that kills; she is an opponent who can think, judge, and seize every opportunity to retaliate.

"Take him down," Chen Beixuan said, his voice not loud, but carrying an undeniable authority.

"Life and death are irrelevant."

The enforcement team took action.

Twelve people, twelve knives, attacked Ajiu simultaneously from twelve different directions.

The members of the enforcement team were all handpicked by the Dark Pavilion from among its top assassins, and each of them possessed the strength of the early stage of the Transformation Realm. Twelve early-stage Transformation Realm experts working together would be a formidable opponent, even for a peak Transformation Realm master.

Ajiu did not avoid it.

She drew her sword.

The blade flashed in the torchlight, like a bolt of lightning streaking across the night sky.

Instead of retreating or dodging, she charged towards the direction where the law enforcement team was most concentrated.

The first knife was aimed at her head, but she dodged to the side. The blade grazed her shoulder, slicing off a piece of her clothing. In the same instant, her knife pierced the man's chest, the tip emerging from his back. The man collapsed without even a groan.

The second knife came slashing from the left. As Ajiu drew his knife, he spun around, using the momentum to pull the knife from the first man's chest and then swept it horizontally.

The blade sliced ​​across the second man's throat, and blood gushed out like a fountain, splattering half of Ajiu's face.

The third, fourth, and fifth people attacked simultaneously.

The three swords blocked her upper, middle, and lower body attacks with perfect coordination, leaving no gaps.

Ah Jiu did not attempt to block the three blows.

She crouched down, gliding along the ground, and slipped through the gap between the three knives.

The blade sliced ​​across her back, leaving a long gash, and drops of blood flew into the air.

She slid behind the three men, and with a backhand slash, cut their ankles simultaneously, sending them crashing to the ground with screams.

Six people fell.

The remaining six people did not continue their attack. They took a few steps back, reformed their formation, and surrounded Ajiu in the middle.

Their faces had lost their composure, replaced by solemnity and vigilance.

Of the twelve people, half were killed in less than ten breaths, while Ah Jiu was almost unharmed except for a superficial wound on his back.

Ajiu stood there, covered in blood—some of her own, some of others'.

Her hair was disheveled, her long black hair fluttering in the night wind, and her face was splattered with bloodstains, which looked like dark red flowers in the torchlight.

Those eyes were still dark and bright, still devoid of any warmth, like two burning blocks of ice.

"Again," she said.

The six people did not move.

Chen Beixuan's face darkened completely.

He slowly drew the black knife from its sheath, the sound of the blade rubbing against the sheath sharp and piercing, like something screaming.

The moment the black blade was drawn, the surrounding air seemed to drop several degrees—it was a blade that had drunk the blood of countless people, and a dark red luster faintly emanated from its blade, the patina formed by blood seeping into the iron.

"All of you, step back," Chen Beixuan said.

The six people felt as if they had been granted a pardon and quickly retreated, giving the space to their deputy leader.

Chen Beixuan gripped the black knife and walked step by step toward Ajiu. His steps were unhurried, each one perfectly timed, like the deep, powerful beat of a war drum.

The aura of a peak-level expert was released without reservation, pressing down on Ajiu like a mountain.

Ajiu felt that pressure.

That wasn't killing intent, but a crushing difference in cultivation level—the difference between the peak of the Transformation Realm and the early stage of the Transformation Realm is not as simple as one plus one equals two, but a qualitative difference.

Compared to the peak of the Transformation Realm, the internal energy of the early Transformation Realm cultivator is like a small stream facing a mighty river—they are not even in the same league.

Her knees bent slightly, her body's instincts screaming for her to back away, to run away. But she didn't back down, she didn't run.

She held the knife, stood there, and looked up at Chen Beixuan, who was a head taller than her.

"Aren't you afraid of dying?" Chen Beixuan asked.

"I'm afraid," Ajiu said, "but I'm even more afraid of living a pathetic life."

Chen Beixuan raised his black sword, the blade reflecting a dark red light in the torchlight.

Just then, a voice came from behind the crowd, old and slow, like a stone being dragged on the ground.

That's enough.

Everyone turned their heads at the same time.

Hades emerged from the darkness of the mountain path.

He walked step by step toward the open space in front of the stone house, his back hunched over, leaning on a black cane.

Behind him were two people—Ghost Hand and Butcher, one on the left and one on the right, like two guardian deities.

The crowd automatically parted to make way.

Hades walked between Chen Beixuan and Ajiu and stopped.

He glanced at the black knife in Chen Beixuan's hand, then at Ajiu's blood-soaked appearance, his cloudy eyes revealing no emotion.

"Sect Master." Chen Beixuan sheathed his sword, but his hand remained on the hilt. His tone was respectful, but his attitude was firm.

"Night Owl violated the rules of the Pavilion, seriously injured six colleagues, and attempted to kill the Deputy Pavilion Master's son. According to the rules, he should be executed."

"I know," said Hades.

He turned around and looked at Ajiu.

"Night Owl, what do you have to say?"

Ajiu looked at Hades, at this old man who was about to die, the enemy who had been hunting down the old drunkard for thirty years, and the true controller of the Dark Pavilion.

She wanted to say so much: she wanted to talk about the old drunkard, about the debt the Dark Pavilion owed her, and about how she had never been loyal to the Dark Pavilion, not even for a second.

But she didn't say it.

It's not the right time.

"No," she said.

Hades nodded.

"The rules of the Dark Pavilion state that assassins within the pavilion are not allowed to engage in private duels; violators will be severely punished."

Hades' voice was slow, as if he were chewing each word over in his mouth before uttering it.

"But this time, there was a reason for it. Chen Xiaotian set the trap first, used drugs first, and ganged up on the few first. Although Night Owl's counterattack was excessive, it was understandable."

Chen Beixuan's expression changed: "Sect Master—"

Hades raised a finger, and Chen Beixuan's voice caught in his throat.

"Chen Xiaotian, three months of confinement and a year's salary deducted," said Hades.

"Night Owl, one month of confinement and a deduction of six months' salary. Both sides should compromise, and this matter ends here."

A subtle commotion arose again in the crowd.

This ruling, on the surface, assigns equal blame to both sides, but in reality, it favors Ah Jiu.

Confinement and withholding salary are nothing compared to being stripped of martial arts skills and expelled from the Dark Pavilion.

Chen Beixuan stared at Hades, the veins bulging on his hand gripping the knife. He didn't speak, but his eyes said it all—he was dissatisfied with the verdict, dissatisfied with Hades, dissatisfied with everything.

But he did not have an attack.

In the Dark Palace, the King of the Underworld's words are like imperial edicts.

No one dared to disobey, not even the deputy head of the cabinet.

"Disperse, all of you," said Hades.

The crowd began to disperse.

The law enforcement team carried away their dead and wounded colleagues, and the assassins abandoned their spectator's interest and disappeared silently into the night.

One by one, the torches were extinguished, and Cangwu Mountain was once again shrouded in darkness.

Chen Beixuan glanced at Ajiu before leaving.

That single glance held only unwavering killing intent.

He was saying: You won't live much longer.

A-Jiu understood the meaning in his eyes.

She didn't respond.

Hades was the last to leave.

He stood at the entrance of the stone house, his back to Ajiu, looking at the deep night of Cangwu Mountain, and remained silent for a long time.

"What did Yin Wuji teach you?" he suddenly asked.

Ah Jiu's heart skipped a beat, but her expression remained unchanged.

"Martial arts," she said.

"That's all?"

That's all.

Hades turned around and looked at her.

The moonlight shone on his wrinkled face, which was expressionless, but in his cloudy eyes there was something that Ajiu had never seen before—weariness, like someone who had walked too far and too long and could no longer walk, looking back at the footprints he had left behind.

"Did he tell you why he left the Dark Pavilion?" Hades asked.

"no."

Hades nodded, as if confirming something.

"He killed quite a few people when he left the Dark Pavilion," Hades said.

"Just like you, one person, one knife, I fought my way through a bloody path. I chased him for thirty years, but I never caught up."

He paused, his voice lowering to almost a whisper, so low that only he could hear it:

"Maybe I shouldn't have pursued it in the first place."

Hades is gone.

His back was hunched and lonely, disappearing into the mist of Cangwu Mountain like an old garment blown away by the wind.

Ajiu stood at the entrance of the stone house, looking in the direction where the figure disappeared, and remained silent for a long time.

She didn't know the meaning of Hades' last few words. Was it regret? Relief? Or some other complex emotion she didn't yet understand?

She doesn't care.

She only knew one thing—from today onwards, her days in the Dark Pavilion wouldn't be long.

Chen Beixuan will not let her go. The King of the Underworld's favoritism can only protect her temporarily, not forever.

She needs to act before they do.

Ajiu returned to the stone house, closed the door, placed the knife on the table, and then took out the wooden box from the hidden compartment under the bed—the wooden box left to her by the old drunkard, and the Thousand Machine Tower's guide plaque.

She placed the wooden box and the sign in front of her and looked at them for a long time.

Thousand Machine Tower.

Bai Yu said that Qianji Tower could help her resolve the grudges of the Dark Pavilion.

She refused at the time.

Because she didn't want to jump from one cage into another.

But now, she needs to reconsider.

It wasn't because she wanted to join the Thousand Machine Tower, but because she needed an ally.

An ally that is powerful enough, intelligent enough, and feared enough by the Dark Council.

In destroying the Dark Pavilion, Qianjilou and she shared the same goal—the existence of the Dark Pavilion was also a threat to Qianjilou.

Both are underground forces, vying for the same piece of the pie, and sooner or later they'll fight to the death.

The enemy of my enemy is not necessarily my friend, but we can cooperate temporarily.

Ah Jiu carefully put the wooden box and the sign back in place, then sat cross-legged and closed her eyes.

Her internal energy flowed through her meridians, the wound on her left hand throbbed with pain, and the cut on her back burned intensely. Every part of her body ached, but her heart remained calm.

It was as still as a stagnant pool.

Beneath the stagnant water lies an undercurrent.

Three days later, a major event occurred in the Dark Pavilion.

Deputy Pavilion Master Chen Beixuan led his men and left Cangwu Mountain.

He didn't say goodbye to Hades, nor did he greet anyone. One night, he and his confidants and subordinates disappeared silently into the mist of Cangwu Mountain.

The Dark Pavilion has split.

When the news reached Ajiu's ears, she was practicing her swordsmanship in the open space outside the stone house.

She stopped, wiped the sweat from her forehead, looked in the direction of Cangwu Mountain, and said nothing.

Chen Beixuan's departure was inevitable.

He had been operating in the Dark Pavilion for many years, and had his own power, his own territory, and his own men.

He could endure it as long as Hades was alive.

Hades' public favoritism towards Ajiu was a signal to him that Hades would not protect him forever.

Rather than being a subordinate deputy head of the Dark Pavilion who is constantly constrained, it would be better to go out and start your own business.

The Dark Pavilion was split in two, and its strength was greatly reduced.

This is both a good thing and a bad thing for Ajiu.

The good thing is that the power of the Dark Pavilion has been weakened, making it easier for her to take revenge.

The bad thing is that after Chen Beixuan leaves, he will no longer be bound by the rules of the Dark Pavilion, and he can openly hunt her down without any scruples.

Ajiu sheathed her knife, returned to the stone house, and began packing her things.

She is leaving Cangwu Mountain.

It's not an escape, it's a strategic shift.

If she stays on Cangwu Mountain, she will be targeted by Chen Beixuan's men and will be killed by the complex forces of the Dark Pavilion.

Leaving Cangwu Mountain, she can move freely, maneuver between the Dark Pavilion and the Thousand Machine Tower, and seek more resources, more allies, and more opportunities.

She packed up all her belongings—a straight knife, wire, hidden weapons, silver coins, a wooden box, and a sign for guidance.

There weren't many things; they were all packed into a small bundle.

She stood at the door of the stone house and took one last look at the house where she had lived for eight years.

Stone walls, wooden doors, a table, a chair, and a bed. There is an oil lamp on the table, and several marks on the wall are carved with the tip of a knife, left by her measuring her height every year on her birthday.

From age seven to fifteen, from waist height to shoulder height.

Ajiu turned around, closed the door, and walked into the morning mist of Cangwu Mountain.

She walked slowly, each step steady.

There was no one on the mountain path, only the sound of her footsteps and the occasional birdsong coming from the mist.

The fog was so thick that she couldn't see the road five steps ahead, but she didn't need to see it. She had walked this road for eight years and could walk it with her eyes closed.

When she reached the foot of the mountain, she stopped and looked back.

Mount Cangwu was still shrouded in thick fog, and nothing could be seen.

But she knew that the buildings were still there, the people were still there, and the organization called the Dark Pavilion was still there.

She will come back.

Not as an assassin, but as an avenger.

Ajiu turned around and walked into the thicker fog.

From this day forward, she is no longer an assassin for the Dark Pavilion. She is free—free to choose her targets, free to choose her missions, free to choose to kill or not to kill, free to choose life or death.

Old drunkard, did you see that?

Your apprentice has escaped from the cage of the Dark Pavilion. Although it's not yet time for him to avenge you, it will be soon.

Ajiu reached into her bosom and touched the wooden box. The box was cold, pressed against her chest like a piece of ice that would never melt.

She walked a long way through the fog, so far that Cangwu Mountain was no longer visible.

Ahead lies Luoyang, the Thousand Machine Tower, a wider world, and even more enemies.

The owl emerges from the mountain.