A long, dark dream.

In the dream, there was no light, no people, only sounds.

Desperate screams, soft sobbing, eerie laughter… All manner of sounds merged, making one feel as if they were in hell itself.

“Evil heretics!” the dreamer shouted in rage.

“We may be evil heretics, but is Dark River righteous?” A voice that somehow blended man, woman, child, and elder echoed from all directions.

They’re just demons – cut them down with the blade, just like every time before!

The dreamer lowered his head slightly, reaching for the sword at his waist, then froze.

The sword was broken, only the hilt remained.

Those voices slowly transformed into skeletons, rushing toward him…

“HAH!” The elderly man awoke from his dream with a shout, drenched in sweat. He sat up abruptly, his hand gripping the Sleeping Dragon Sword beside him.

Outside the room, Bai Hehuai and the others heard the shout and rushed inside. They found the Patriarch sitting up in bed, half-undressed, his muscles rippling with tension, killing intent radiating from his body. When he lifted his head to look at them, his eyes blazed like fire.

Mu Yumo quickly scanned the room but found no signs of combat. Even the ceiling appeared undamaged. She asked in confusion, “What’s wrong?”

“Out!” the Patriarch barked.

Bai Hehuai patted Mu Yumo’s shoulder, “Sister Mu, please step out. I must have miscalculated the medicine dosage. Let me tend to the Patriarch.”

Mu Yumo glanced at the Patriarch, nodded, and immediately withdrew.

Bai Hehuai waved her hand lightly, causing three silver needles to float in the air. With a flick of her finger, the needles embedded themselves in the Patriarch’s chest. He exhaled deeply, his strength finally dissipating. The sword fell to the ground as he leaned against the wall, wiping sweat from his brow.

Bai Hehuai walked to his side, smiling, “So the Patriarch had a nightmare?”

The Patriarch’s expression softened, “Hehuai, how many people have you saved in your life?”

Bai Hehuai frowned slightly, “How could I keep count?”

“I’ve killed eight hundred and thirty-two people in my life. With each kill, I made a mark in my heart, and these people often appear in my dreams,” the Patriarch said slowly. “Many of them, I can’t even remember who they were, but a voice in my heart tells me they were killed by my hand.”

Bai Hehuai considered this, “Do such dreams come more frequently as time passes?”

The Patriarch’s face darkened slightly, “Are you suggesting I’m getting old?”

Bai Hehuai waved her hand, smiling, “The Patriarch overthinks. To us physicians, these are merely natural changes.”

The Patriarch took a pipe from beside the bed and lit the tobacco within, “Actually, I never feared such dreams. Every time before, I would take up my blade and cut through the dreamscape completely. If I could kill them once, naturally, I could kill them again! Whether in reality or dreams, there should be no difference!”

At that moment, the killing intent that suddenly emanated from the Patriarch gave Bai Hehuai a glimpse of the god of death he once was. But soon he took a drag from his pipe, and the killing intent dissipated once again. He spoke softly, “But this time, when I went to draw my sword, it was already broken.”

After a long silence, the Patriarch muttered, “We need Muyu to return quickly.”

Bai Hehuai realized something, “By the Patriarch’s sword, you mean Lord Puppet?”

The Patriarch came to his senses, realizing he had let something slip. He took another drag from his pipe and said, “Muyu is indeed the finest sword in my hand these years. With him by my side, I would feel more at ease.”

“He does seem worthy of trust,” Bai Hehuai nodded. “By the way, I’ve always wanted to ask the Patriarch something – what is your surname?”

The Patriarch’s pupils narrowed slightly, “Do you know that in Dark River, asking such a question is taboo?”

“Why?” Bai Hehuai pressed.

“The Patriarch oversees three families and must maintain absolute fairness and justice. But before becoming a Patriarch, one must have been from one of the three families, making bias inevitable. So when each successive Patriarch takes up the Sleeping Dragon Sword, their name is forcibly erased. From then on, they cease to be a member of the three families and exist only as the Patriarch.” The Patriarch slowly smoked his pipe as the room gradually filled with smoke. “However, I can tell you my surname.”

“My surname is Mu. Before becoming Patriarch, I was called Mu Mingce.”

“Mu Mingce…” Bai Hehuai whispered.

“It’s been so long since I’ve heard that name,” the Patriarch smiled. “It feels like a previous life.”

“So it’s Mu. I thought the Patriarch’s surname was Su,” Bai Hehuai smiled.

The Patriarch raised an eyebrow, “Because I trust Muyu so deeply?”

“At first yes, but today I heard Sister Yumo say that Lord Puppet was a Nameless One?” Bai Hehuai took an incense stick from her medicine box and lit it, placing it on the burner.

The Patriarch’s pupils contracted slightly, “Oh? Do you know about the Nameless Ones? Also from your master? That’s one of Dark River’s most closely guarded secrets.”

“It was only mentioned briefly. If the Patriarch doesn’t wish to discuss it, we needn’t continue,” Bai Hehuai said casually.

“Tell me, what did your master tell you?” the Patriarch asked.

“Master said that Dark River consists of three surnames – Mu, Xie, and Su. These three clans have maintained their legacy for a hundred years, forming the world’s premier assassination organization, Dark River. Over these hundred years, the three families passed down their legacy, but not every descendant possessed the talent for assassination. With dangerous missions constantly claiming members’ lives, gradually, your three generations’ inheritance became insufficient to sustain Dark River’s growth. So, Dark River initiated the ‘Nameless Ones’ project. You sent out masters from each family to search the world for orphans with exceptional potential. These orphans were brought back to Dark River’s headquarters and placed in a training ground called the Crucible to learn the art of killing. Every six years, they underwent a trial. Twenty people in a group were placed in the Ghost’s Wailing Abyss for mortal combat. The survivors would undergo the ‘Surname Bestowing Ceremony,’ receiving names granted by one of the three families – Su, Xie, or Mu.” After finishing, Bai Hehuai turned to look at the Patriarch.

The Patriarch looked back at her, his gaze perfectly calm, but his words were terrifying: “Do you know that just for speaking those words alone, Dark River would hunt you to the ends of the earth?”