CHAPTER 31: CHAPTER 31: PATH OF HATE

The brutal scene was discovered by the police of Argyon early morning—the way the men died, the sheets of ice left behind puzzled the police—they knew the city was overrun by corrupted people, and the black market ring, but the manner in which the men were killed was not how most killings were—these were precise, the work of an exceptional swordsman.

The incident was given a name—the assassin was given an alias by the police. The "Frosting Death."

Lian’er sighed—exhaustion was creeping up on her. She walked over three days without resting before she got to this city and furthermore was forced to exert her strength to deal with the men in the alley yesternight—her muscles groaned, she needed a warm bath to start her day and get a fresh change of clothes before she went to look for her brother.

She casually strolled through the busy plaza, the vendors already reaping profit for the day—it made her almost want to laugh, the people and the children were so carefree—they did not know about the dangers that loomed over the night, as they say, ignorance is truly bliss. She was about to take a step when something bumped into her and she looked down—her eyes briefly widened as she saw a startling reminder of her brother in the boy that was rubbing his head from falling.

Lian’er knelt down in front of the boy. "Are you okay? You aren’t hurt are you?"

The young boy opened his eyes and they went wide—he stared directly into Lian’er eyes. "Pretty..." He complimented her eyes causing Lian’er to let loose a smile—the boy’s innocent nature was similar to that of her brother, all of them had that innocent look in their eyes, one that needed to be protected.

The crowd parted as a woman with shoulder length brown hair bumped into them—her brown eyes riddled by panic—the fear of having lost her son making her heart tighten, and her breathing to become shallow. She pushed past the people and her eyes watered slightly—her son was safe. "Eudil."

Eudil looked to the side and immediately got to his feet. "Mommy!"

Lian’er watched as the mother and son hugged—watching them made her heart sting a bit, her thoughts drifted back to Yuanchen, her brother—the memories of their childhood crept up on her and she shook her head. The boy found his mother, so she was not needed; Lian’er vanished into the crowd and navigated through them till she found an inn hidden away in the corner of the busy plaza—at long last she was going to get some food and a bath.

Lian’er opened the doors into the inn and she was hit by a scent of fresh bread, coffee, and alcohol to name a few—the inn went quiet as every patriot looked at the door where she stood. She dropped her hoodie, allowing her snow-white hair to flow freely and she entered—Lian’er paid no attention to the men ogling her body, she knew she had an appeal and it was natural to be looked at.

She made it to the counter and sat on one of the chairs.

The server gave Lian’er a bright smile as she came to attend her. "Good morning, what would be your order?"

Lian’er’s eyes quickly scanned the menu—she was looking for something familiar with what she used to eat and her eyes landed on it. "Toast with Sunnyside eggs and coffee, no milk and sugar."

"Coming right up."

Lian’er nodded and looked out of the window watching the people go about their morning.

"Did you hear?"

Her ears perked up at the conversation that was starting just to her left.

"Hear what?"

"Apparently someone yesterday around 11pm killed ten men alone—and these weren’t just any men, they were personal lapdogs of the Whiteheart family."

"No way, someone actually dared to kill those guys? Aren’t the Whiteheart family lackies around 4th core Cultivators? I heard they are part of the Shadow Assassin Sect."

"They call this person the Frosting Death."

Lian’er raised an eyebrow—the people she had killed were 4th core Cultivators? They were weak compared to what she is used to especially for the people on the level of 4th core cultivation—she shrugged and focused on her food as it arrived.

"Hey there beautiful."

Lian’er looked to the side as a man with long black hair wearing expensive clothing sat besides her—she rolled her eyes and returned to her food.

"I’m talking you!"

"Piss off!"

The inn went quiet again as Lian’er replied to the man whose face turned beet red at the show of disrespect and refusal to acknowledge him.

No one disrespects me, me! Aamon RavenClaw. Aamon seethed as he kicked the chair he was sitting on, back—he raised his hand and brought it down to strike Lian’er.

Lian’er without looking raised her hand and caught the attack mid air. "Got a death wish? I said piss off." the inn started to chill as her ice ability released thick frosting dusts around her—with strength defying her lathe body, Lian’er flipped over Aamon and slammed him into the counter splitting it into two.

She stood up, annoyed by the man and placed the money for the repairs and the food on the side and left—she left behind a quiet inn, every patriot inside had a pale face and in their mind, they only had one shared thought.

She was a dead woman walking.

Aamon walked through the massive corridors of his family house. She dares attack me, that little whore. He seethed pushing away the maids in his path and knocking down priceless artifacts—he had came to minutes after she had left and immediately went home, he wanted to teach her a lesson.

Aamon stopped in front of two large doors and knocked. "Come on in" came from the other end and Aamon opened the door revealing the office to the bystander reading.

The office was spacious—the walls were painted with a lavender paint, the large windows were dressed in fine red curtains and in the middle of the office sitting behind an oakwood desk was a man with short grey hair and a goatee—to the left of the man was a wall-to-wall shelf filled with books and to his right was two large brown doors that were closed.

"Uncle." Aamon said as he stopped before the man.

His uncle stared at him—a bright smile appeared on his aged face. "Aamon my boy, have you found yourself a wife? Or do I need to call lady Theresa and organize a marriage between you and her daughter?"

Aamon grinded his teeth together. Shitty old man, don’t you see that I am hurt he did not voice his thoughts but plastered a smile on his face to pretend as if he agreed with the old man but deep down knowing women were had went down to the bottom of the list in his favor.

"No uncle, I want to hire some Cultivators to teach someone a lesson. I want her head and I won’t stop at until I get it."