I'm The Only Necromancer In This Cultivation World-Chapter 63: Dustwind Clan (part 2)

There weren’t many people inside the town. A few vendors lined the sides of the narrow street, selling dried meat, rough cloth, and simple tools. Most of the buildings were old wood and stone, their paint long faded by wind and sun.

When Aiden stepped through the gate, more than a few eyes turned toward him.

A stranger.

In a place like this, strangers stood out.

The town was isolated, tucked between low hills and thick forest. Travelers rarely passed through unless they had a reason. For a moment, whispers stirred like wind brushing dry leaves. But curiosity only lasted so long. Before long, people returned to their stalls and conversations, pretending not to stare.

Aiden kept his head slightly lowered. His robe was plain and dark, the hood casting a shadow over his face. From the outside, he looked like nothing more than a tired traveler.

He walked at an unhurried pace, silently observing.

The placement of the guard patrols.

The distance between buildings.

The direction of the inner estate the guards had warned him about.

He turned a corner, and collided straight into someone.

Thud.

Several young men stumbled backward and fell to the ground, landing in the dust with surprised grunts.

Aiden barely moved. He had only taken half a step back.

The street went quiet.

The young men wore better clothes than the average townsfolk, cleaner boots, embroidered sleeves, short swords hanging from their waists. Not warriors hardened by battle, but clearly trained.

One of them pushed himself up, face twisting in anger.

"Hey! Don’t you have eyes?" he snapped.

Another brushed dust off his sleeve, glaring. "You blind or just stupid?"

Aiden adjusted his footing slowly. His face remained hidden beneath the hood.

"My apologies," he said evenly. "The street is narrow."

"That’s it?" one of them scoffed. "You bump into us and think a sorry is enough?"

A third youth stepped forward, pointing at Aiden’s chest. "Pay us."

Aiden tilted his head slightly. "Pay you?"

"For knocking us down," the youth said. "You think our clothes clean themselves?"

Aiden felt a smirk tug at his lips beneath the hood, though none of them could see it.

"Isn’t that a bit too much?" he asked calmly.

"Too much?" The first young man let out a sharp laugh. "Do you even know who we are?"

He puffed out his chest proudly. "We’re from the Dustwind Clan. This town belongs to us."

"That’s right," another added arrogantly. "We own this place. Every stone, every shop. You’re walking on our ground."

Around them, the townspeople suddenly found the ground very interesting.

A woman quickly turned back to arranging vegetables that didn’t need arranging. A blacksmith pretended to be deeply focused on hammering a blade that had already cooled. No one wanted eye contact.

They all knew these youths.

The Dustwind Clan’s young masters, well, not masters. More like spoiled sons and nephews. Old enough to throw their weight around, too weak to be sent anywhere dangerous.

They were notorious in town.

Taking extra "taxes."

Demanding free drinks.

Bullying anyone who couldn’t fight back.

Aiden could feel the tension in the air. No one would help him.

Interesting.

One of the youths stepped closer, invading Aiden’s space. "Take off that hood."

Aiden didn’t move.

"Why?" he asked.

"So we can see the face of the idiot who dared bump into us."

Silence lingered for a second.

Aiden slowly lifted his chin just enough for them to sense his gaze beneath the shadow.

"You’re the ones who fell," he said quietly. "I didn’t push you."

For a brief second, the young man met Aiden’s eyes beneath the shadow of the hood.

And froze.

There was something wrong with them.

They weren’t wild or angry. They were calm. Too calm. Cold in a way that didn’t match a tired traveler.

A chill crawled down his spine.

He instinctively stumbled back a step, heel scraping against the dirt. But when he noticed the townspeople watching from the corners of their eyes, his face burned with embarrassment. He gritted his teeth and forced his fear down.

"If you don’t pay," he said sharply, raising his voice, "I’ll order the guards to throw you out of town!"

The threat hung in the air.

Aiden didn’t react.

"How much do you want?" he asked.

The youth hesitated for half a breath, then lifted his chin arrogantly. "Ten gold coins."

A few quiet gasps came from nearby stalls.

Ten gold coins was absurd. It was more than some families earned in months.

The young man clearly expected the hooded traveler to panic... or beg.

Instead, Aiden calmly reached into his pouch.

The faint clink of metal echoed as he drew out a small stack of gold coins. The polished surfaces caught the afternoon light. Without another word, he held them out.

The youths stared, stunned.

He actually has that much?

The one who spoke first quickly snatched the coins, greed flashing in his eyes. He counted them hurriedly, just to be sure.

Ten.

A slow, smug grin spread across his face.

"Hmph. At least you know your place," he said.

Another laughed. "Next time, watch where you’re going."

They turned and walked away, shoulders loose, laughing among themselves. One of them even tossed a coin lightly in the air before catching it again.

The townspeople quietly returned to their business.

No one looked at Aiden.

No one wanted to be involved.

Under his hood, Aiden’s lips curved slightly.

He did not chase them.

He did not argue.

He simply turned and walked down the street as if nothing had happened.

A few turns later, he slipped into a narrow alley between two aging buildings. It was shaded and empty, save for broken crates and the smell of damp wood.

Aiden raised a hand slightly.

The air shifted, he summoned three basic-grade undead.

Each one wore simple robes, the kind ordinary fighters might wear while traveling. Their skin was pale but not corpse-like, their faces partially shadowed beneath cloth hoods. Swords hung at their waists. From a distance, they looked no different from mercenaries or wandering cultivators.

Aiden had learned early on.