The next day dawned hazy and oppressive on Vorthex Prime.

Thick, toxic clouds rolled across the artificial sky, casting the sprawling exchange world in a sickly yellow-green light. The air smelled of ozone, spiced meats, burning fuel, and the faint metallic tang of blood. Auctions rang out from every direction — slaves in energy cuffs, forbidden Qi crystals, living cultivators offered as experimental subjects, weapons still wet from recent use.

Lian and Elara moved through the lower districts like shadows.

They had left the underground forge at first light, cloaks drawn, hoods low. The old blacksmith had given them a small encrypted map and a modest sum of credits. Enough to eat, move, and ask careful questions — nothing more.

Lian kept his hand near the hilt of his short hammer-blade, hidden beneath the cloak. Elara walked silently beside him, curved black blade sheathed at her hip, blue cyber eyes scanning every corner. They were both on high alert.

Lian was wanted.

The bounty had spread like wildfire across the galaxy.

“Dead or Alive — The Ghost, Lian Yu.”

million credits alive.

million dead.

Every bounty hunter, information broker, and opportunistic cultivator on Vorthex Prime knew the face. Some hunted for money. Others for glory. A few wanted to recruit the monster who had slaughtered an entire Mechari delegation in front of the galaxy.

They moved carefully.

Roof-hopping when possible, slipping through narrow alleys and crowded market stalls when drones passed overhead. They avoided main thoroughfares. They changed direction often. They never stayed in one place longer than necessary.

No clues yet.

They had visited three black-market auction houses already. Paid for information. Listened to rumors. Nothing solid. The white-eyed old man had been here months ago, but the trail had gone cold.

They jumped across another rooftop, landing silently on rusted metal. Below them, a crowded street buzzed with life — Korrak laborers hauling crates, Veyari merchants haggling with four arms, Kraith slithering through shadows.

Lian paused at the edge, scanning.

Elara landed beside him, alloy legs making no sound.

“Still nothing,” she whispered.

Lian nodded once.

They were about to move again when a low, sibilant voice spoke from the shadows of a nearby ventilation shaft.

“I saw him.”

Both froze.

A figure slithered out — serpent-like, hooded head, venomous fangs glinting faintly. A Kraith. Information broker and assassin by trade. Its scales were dull green-black, eyes cold and calculating.

Lian’s hand moved instantly to his blade.

Elara’s fingers rested on hers.

The Kraith raised both clawed hands slowly, showing empty palms.

“Not here,” it hissed. “Too many ears. Too many eyes. Follow me. I can talk safely.”

Lian’s void eyes narrowed.

He was wary.

Very wary.

This could be a trap. Bounty hunters were everywhere. One wrong move and the entire planet would descend on them.

But they needed information.

He glanced at Elara.

She gave a tiny nod — ready.

Lian’s hand stayed near his dagger, but he gestured once.

“Lead.”

The Kraith slithered ahead, keeping to the shadows.

They followed — roof to roof, then down into twisting alleys, then through a crowded market where no one seemed to notice three more hooded figures.

The Kraith led them to a small, unremarkable shop tucked between two larger warehouses. The sign was faded, selling “exotic spices and relics.”

Once inside, the Kraith locked the door with a heavy click and closed the shutters.

The room was dim, cluttered with shelves of jars and dusty artifacts.

The Kraith turned to face them, hood still up, fangs partially visible.

“I saw him,” it repeated, voice low and sibilant. “The one with white machine eyes. Three months ago. He came to a small, secret auction in the underbelly district. Very exclusive. Only the highest bidders.”

Lian’s grip tightened on his blade.

“What did he buy?”

The Kraith’s tongue flicked out.

“A weapon. Very high value. Called the Void Reaver.”

It leaned closer, voice dropping even lower.

“Capable of killing a Nebula Dominion realm cultivator in one hit. A single strike that tears through domains, shatters cores, and devours the soul. Ancient. Forbidden. Said to be forged from a fallen progenitor’s remains.”

Elara’s blue cyber eyes widened slightly.

Lian felt a chill run down his spine.

They were both still relatively weak compared to Nebula Dominion.

Even with his recent breakthrough to Stellar Circuit Late, a weapon like that could end them instantly.

Lian kept his voice calm.

“Does he work alone? Or does he have someone higher than him?”

The Kraith nodded slowly, scales rustling.

“Yes. He serves someone older. Much older. A true progenitor remnant. Very powerful. The white-eyed one is merely a servant... or a hunter.”

Lian’s void eyes darkened.

The Kraith continued.

“I can give you the location of that auction house. For the right price.”

Lian reached into his cloak and placed a stack of credits on the counter.

The Kraith’s eyes gleamed.

“Smart.”

It slid a small data chip across the table.

“Be careful. The white-eyed man is not the only one looking for power. And the Reapers... they are already moving in the shadows.”

Lian took the chip.

Elara’s hand stayed near her blade.

The Kraith unlocked the door.

“Go. And if you find him... remember who helped you.”

They slipped out into the crowded street.

The exchange world of Vorthex Prime continued its endless trade around them — weapons, slaves, organs, secrets — all for sale.

Lian and Elara moved deeper into the shadows.

The hunt had truly begun.

Power Scale / Cultivation Realms (Quick Reminder)

Foundation Realm (Layers 1–9): Body forging, no external Qi.

Circuit Awakening Realm (Early–Peak): First Qi loop, internal bursts.

Core Condensation Realm (Early–Peak): External Qi release, short flight.

Stellar Circuit Realm (1–9 Stars): True flight, Qi armor, energy projection.

Nebula Dominion Realm and higher: Domain control, galaxy-level power, etc.