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Timeline: After Y2V11 (No Knowledge needed)Following the events of the training camp, I have returned to my routine: wake up, train, shower, and attend classes. It was a sequence I had perfected—simple, almost mechanical. For most people, such predictability would be tiring. For me, it was freedom, or at least the closest I could yet grasp.Not much has changed in the two years I have spent here at the Advanced Nurturing High School, or ANHS.Despite the friendships I had formed and the relationships I had nurtured—like my connection with Kei—there was still an emptiness, a void that still lingered within me. After I left the White Room, I thought that perhaps this school would provide me with the answer, the elusive 'something' that would grant my existence meaning aside from being the "Masterpiece" and the pawn of my father. Yet time marched forward, and my soul remained unfulfilled.Would I ever find it? Or was I simply destined to drift through life in the same indifferent manner as always?▬▬ι═══════ﺤI awoke at precisely 5:30 AM, as always. No alarm was needed. My internal clock was as reliable as any alarm. I sat up in my accustomed dorm bed, the fair hum of the air conditioning sounding in the background.I dressed quickly, slipping into my gym clothes. A light jog would start my day, followed by strength training in the gym, located at the Keyaki Mall.This was not for show—I have neglected my training ever since arriving at this school, and it had consequences. Compared to my previous state under the White Room's harsh, rigorous regimen, my current state weakened drastically, and I had no intention of letting myself grow even weaker.The campus was quiet in the early hours. I passed a few senior students tiredly trudging toward the school building, preparing for entrance exams for their dream universities.Inside the gym, I found Sudo, my classmate, already working out.I paused at the doorway, watching him push through a set of bench presses with determination."Ayanokoji? What are you doing here this early?" Sudo asked, glancing over at me. His tone carried a hint of surprise.I walked closer, setting my bag down near the wall. "I'm always here at this time. It's less crowded in the mornings." I paused, meeting his gaze. "Rather, what are you doing here? Don't you normally show up later?"Sudo chuckled, though it came out slightly strained from exertion. "Yeah, yeah, normally, sure. But, you know... with the year-end Special Exam coming up, I figured I'd better step up my game."He gestured toward the weights. "If it turns out to be something physical, I want to be in peak condition. Gotta make sure I'm ready to help Suzune and the rest of the class. This might be my chance to really make a difference, y'know?"I tilted my head slightly, studying him. Sudo's blunt honesty had always been one of his defining traits, though not always positive. There was no pretense or strategy behind his words—just a raw desire to improve himself.I didn't reply immediately, instead beginning my warm-up routine. "It's admirable," I said finally. "You've come a long way from the guy who used to skip class for basketball."Sudo grinned, wiping the sweat off his forehead with a towel. "Yeah, I guess, feels like forever ago now. Back then, I was all about basketball and didn't care about much else. I'd never have guessed I'd be busting my ass in a gym for something other than dunking on someone."He laughed, but there was a faint edge of nostalgia in his tone.His words hung in the air for a moment before he stood, clapping his hands together. "Anyway, I'm gonna hit the showers and grab some breakfast. Don't work too hard, man."I watched him leave, his figure disappearing through the gym doors. Sudo had grown in many ways over the past two years.I returned to my routine, the sound of clinking weights filling the empty gym once more.▬▬ι═══════ﺤBy the time I returned to the dorm to shower and change, the campus was coming to life. Students crowded the halls, their voices a dull roar.As I walked toward my classroom, I noted familiar faces. Among them were members of Class B, my class, once the lowest-ranked Class D. Soon the year would end, and with that my time in this class.They didn't need me anymore. Not really. With Horikita Suzune as their capable leader and figures like Hirata, Kushida, Karuizawa, and even the ever-reckless Sudo. With that lineup, they will be able to hold their own against the other classes even without my interference.Who knows, maybe with Koenji as their Wildcard, things could get even more interesting.Further down the path, I noticed Ryuen Kakeru, the delinquent leader of Class C, who strode down the path with his usual confidence, Ishizaki and Albert flanking him like guards.And then there were the remaining contenders: Class A and D.Class A, led by Sakayanagi Arisu, Class A's brain and princess, and Class D, led by Ichinose Honami, a beacon of optimism whose charisma kept her class united.Would I transfer to Class A or Class D? I didn't care for the answer.The only certainty was this: the stage had been set for the year-end Special Exam, the culmination of everything these two years had built toward. The following third year will have a fierce battle between all four classes, and I intend to witness the final result.▬▬ι═══════ﺤClassroom 2-B was already buzzing with activity when I arrived."Good morning, Kiyotaka!" Yosuke called, waving cheerfully from his seat. His gentle disposition remained unchanged.I nodded in greeting and made my way to my seat near the back of the room.The morning passed uneventfully. Classes proceeded as usual, though my mind wandered more than I cared to admit. I found myself staring out the window at the clear blue sky, feeling an unfamiliar weight settle in my chest.Two years.Two years of lying to myself, playing the role of a mediocre student, while quietly shaping events behind the scenes. Two years of avoiding attention, hiding my true capabilities, and manipulating my peers like pieces on a chessboard.I clenched my pen slightly, my thoughts drifting back to the White Room. For years, I have been trained to be perfect—a flawless tool designed to win at any cost. Emotions had no place in that place, nor did freedom.The Advanced Nurturing High School had promised something different, but in the end, it was just another cage. A bigger one, perhaps, with looser bars, but a cage nonetheless.What was I looking for?What was I hoping to find?▬▬ι═══════ﺤLunch arrived, and I found myself in the cafeteria with Kei. She chatted animatedly about a new store that had opened nearby, though I only half-listened. My attention was drawn to the far corner of the room, where Ryuen and his group were gathered.Their laughter carried across the cafeteria, loud and unrestrained. Ryuen's gaze briefly met mine, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. A silent challenge.Kei noticed my distraction and followed my gaze. "Ugh. Ryuen again? That guy's insufferable.""He's consistent," I replied.She gave me a puzzled look but shrugged it off. "Whatever. Just ignore him. Let's talk about something more interesting—like what you're going to do after the year-end exam.""I haven't decided yet."Kei pouted. "Mou, you're hopeless, you know that? At least pretend to have a plan."I didn't answer. In truth, I did have a plan—several, in fact. But something told me that none of it would matter soon. A strange feeling had been growing inside me all day, an inexplicable sense of unease that I couldn't shake.▬▬ι═══════ﺤBy the time classes ended, the feeling had only grown stronger. I lingered in the empty classroom, staring at the chalkboard as though it held answers to questions I couldn't articulate.Something's not right.The hallway outside was quiet now, most students having left for their clubs or dorms. I finally stood and gathered my things, heading for the door.As I stepped into the corridor, a sudden wave of dizziness washed over me.What is this...?I stumbled, one hand gripping the wall for support. My vision blurred, and the faint hum of fluorescent lights above me grew louder, distorting into an unbearable ringing.And then—Time stopped.The moment was instantaneous, incomprehensible. My body faltered, a sudden weight pulling at me as though my very soul had been ripped from its core. My vision blurred; the world around me melted into an unfathomable void. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I was drowning in a sea of darkness.From above, my own body crumpled to the floor, lifeless and still. I watched, disembodied, as though I were a mere spectator to my own demise.And then the pull came—an overwhelming surge that sent my soul soaring upward with incomprehensible speed.The island that housed the Advanced Nurturing High School vanished below me. Tokyo, Japan, and then the entirety of the Earth shrank into insignificance in the blink of an eye.Beyond the confines of the planet, the vastness of space unfurled before me, an endless expanse of stars and cosmic wonders. The sight was breathtaking, yet incomprehensible, as though my soul had transcended human understanding.The speed increased, the sensations blurring until I could no longer comprehend motion, distance, or even my own existence. I was hurtling toward something far beyond my grasp, beyond the reach of reason.And then—darkness.My consciousness faded, swallowed by the void, leaving behind only the faint memory of the stars.▬▬ι═══════ﺤThe bell signaling the end of the school day had rung minutes earlier, and students from all classes were heading toward their dorms or clubs. A few stragglers remained in the hallways, chatting or finishing their conversations as the sun dipped lower in the sky.Horikita Suzune walked briskly down the hall, her sharp gaze fixed ahead. She'd meant to ask Ayanokoji about the recent developments regarding the upcoming special exam. He'd been evasive as usual, and she needed clarity.Turning a corner, she saw a small gathering of students just outside Class 2-B's classroom. The air was different—hushed murmurs and concerned whispers filled the corridor, and she immediately noticed Karuizawa Kei standing amidst the group. Karuizawa's face was pale, her trembling hands pressed against her lips."What's going on here?" Horikita demanded as she approached the group, her voice cutting through the low chatter.No one answered at first, but Hirata Yosuke, grim-looking, stepped forward. His usual warmth was absent, replaced by a tight expression. "It's Kiyotaka," he said quietly. "He... collapsed."Horikita froze, her mind racing to make sense of the words. "Collapsed? Where is he now?""They've already taken him to the nurse's office," Hirata said, his voice steady but strained. "But Horikita-san, it's bad. He wasn't breathing when we found him."Karuizawa let out a quiet sob, and Horikita's gaze snapped to her. Karuizawa looked utterly shattered. She clung to Hirata's sleeve for support, her knees threatening to buckle."Calm down," Horikita said, her voice firmer now. She wasn't sure if she was speaking to Karuizawa, the other students, or herself. "Are the paramedics on their way?""Yes," Hirata nodded. "They've been called, but... it doesn't look good."The words hung heavy in the air. For a brief moment, Horikita's usual calm cracked, her thoughts spiraling into chaos. Ayanokoji, her neighbor in their first year, her first friend—always so composed, so untouchable—was now lying unresponsive in the nurse's office.Before she could process the implications, Ryuen Kakeru appeared, his trademark smirk notably absent. He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, but his usual confidence seemed dulled."Heard about it," Ryuen said, his tone unreadable. "That guy finally reached his limit, huh? Didn't think Ayanaokoji was the type to keel over."Horikita shot him a glare. "This isn't the time for your usual games, Ryuen."Ryuen faltered slightly. "Relax, I'm not here to stir the pot. Just saying, it's weird, isn't it? Ayanokoji doesn't strike me as the type to have a weak heart or anything like that."Horikita couldn't deny the truth in his words. Ayanokoji had always been an enigma, seemingly unshakable in every sense. For him to collapse like this... it didn't add up.Karuizawa finally found her voice, though it was weak and trembling. "He was fine this morning. He didn't... he didn't say anything about feeling sick or..." Her words dissolved into another sob, and Hirata gently guided her to sit on a nearby bench.The hallway grew quieter as reality settled over them. Even Ryuen, for all his antagonistic tendencies, stood silently, his expression contemplative.Finally, the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor. Chabashira-sensei approached, her usually stern face uncharacteristically somber."Sensei," Horikita said immediately, stepping forward. "What's his condition?"Chabashira hesitated, a rare flicker of uncertainty crossing her features. "The paramedics have taken him to the hospital. The preliminary report..." She trailed off, her gaze lowering.Hirata pressed her. "Please, what did they say?""They couldn't find a pulse," Chabashira admitted, her voice heavy. "They're working to resuscitate him, but..."Kei's muffled cries filled the silence, and even Horikita struggled to maintain her composure. Chabashira turned away, unable to offer comfort to her students.For the first time, Horikita felt a pang of something she hadn't expected—regret. It was a foreign sensation, unwelcome and unfamiliar, settling heavily in her chest as she stood in the quiet hallway in front of her classroom. She regretted not knowing him better, not understanding him beyond the cold, pragmatic exchanges they shared."I can't believe it," Ryuen muttered under his breath. "Of all people... that guy?"No one answered him.As the small crowd began to disperse, the weight of Ayanokoji's absence settled over them all like a suffocating blanket. Horikita clenched her fists, her mind racing. This wasn't over. It couldn't be. Someone like Ayanokoji didn't just... vanish.But for now, there was nothing to do but wait—and hope.▬▬ι═══════ﺤThe news of Ayanokojis' sudden collapse spread through the school like wildfire, igniting speculation and concern among the students. Within hours, the school forum was abuzz with rumors and whispered fragments of information.The night after Ayanokoji's collapse was a heavy one. The usual buzz of life in the dorms had dimmed into an unnatural silence. Conversations were muted, students whispering behind closed doors as if afraid their voices might shatter what little stability remained.Horikita sat in her room, her desk lamp casting a pale glow over the textbooks she hadn't touched. Her mind churned restlessly, unable to focus on the material in front of her. She replayed the moment Hirata told her about Ayanokoji's condition, his words echoing like a cruel taunt."He wasn't breathing."She clenched her fists, forcing herself to stay composed. "This doesn't make sense," she murmured to herself. Ayanokoji wasn't someone who would break under pressure. He wasn't weak. He wasn't... mortal, in the way the rest of them seemed to be.Her phone buzzed on the desk, snapping her out of her thoughts. She reached for it, noting Karuizawa's name flashing on the screen.Horikita hesitated. She wasn't sure whether she could deal with Karuizawa's emotional outbursts right now. But guilt nudged her hand, and she answered."Good evening, Karuizawa-san," she said flatly."Is there any news?" Karuizawa's voice was small, trembling."None," Horikita replied, her tone softer than she intended. "The hospital hasn't released any updates yet."There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Do you think..." Karuizawa began, her voice breaking slightly. "Do you think he'll be okay?"Horikita's chest tightened. She wanted to reassure Karuizawa, but she wasn't one for empty platitudes. "Ayanokoji is... strong. If anyone can come out of something like this, it's him."Karuizawa let out a shaky breath, but it was clear she wasn't comforted. "I-I should have noticed something was wrong," she stammered. "This morning, when we talked, he was so normal. Maybe too normal. He never even hinted that...""It's not your fault," Horikita cut in firmly. "You couldn't have known.""Then who could?" Karuizawa snapped, frustration and grief spilling out in equal measure. "He's always so damn secretive! Always hiding things, always acting like he's fine, like nothing can touch him!"Horikita didn't respond. She understood Karuizawa's anger, even if it was misplaced. Ayanokojis's detached, enigmatic nature had always been a double-edged sword. It had kept him ahead of everyone else but also made him impossible to truly understand."Karuizawa-san," Horikita said after a moment, her voice quiet but steady. "He wouldn't want you to fall apart over this."Karuizawa sniffled, the sound muffled. "I'm trying... but it's hard. I...""If there's any news, I'll let you know," Horikita said firmly. "For now, get some rest."Karuizawa didn't reply, but the line went dead a moment later. Horikita set her phone down, staring at the screen for a long moment.Horikita set her phone down gently, the faint click echoing in the quiet of her room. She stared at the blank screen, her reflection barely visible on its dark surface. The composed mask she wore earlier slipped away, leaving behind raw, unguarded emotion. Her hands, so steady moments before, now trembled slightly in her lap.She leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes. The weight of the day pressed heavily on her chest, making it hard to breathe. Ayanokoji's face flashed in her mind—not the indifferent, calculating expression he usually wore, but the rare glimpses she'd seen of something more human. His quiet moments of patience, his dry wit, his maddening calmness in the face of chaos, and the slight smile he showed her when they were in the café."I should have said something," she whispered, her voice breaking. The admission cut her deeper than she expected. She thought of all the times she'd gone to him—not as a friend, but as someone who needed something from him. Advice. A strategy. A way out. She had only used him as a convenience, to help her climb higher, not as someone who might need her in return.She called him his friend, but did she ever treat him as a friend? Did they ever spend time as 'friends'?Her fingers curled into fists as guilt surged within her. "I should have thanked him more. Listened more." She opened her eyes and looked at the textbooks sprawled across her desk, the neat notes she had written in her quest for perfection. For so long, she had told herself that her path to strength was one she had to walk alone. And yet, Ayanokoji has been beside her—sometimes guiding her, watching, but always there, teaching her.He helped her transition from the stubborn, arrogant, isolated girl she was to a more open person, a person able to lead their class, becoming a person her brother acknowledged, something she desired dearly before arriving at this school.Her throat tightened, and for the first time in a year, tears prickled at her eyes. She swiped at them angrily, but they fell faster than she could stop them. "I didn't even realize..." Her voice cracked, the words caught in her throat.She loved him.The realization hit her like a punch to the gut, leaving her breathless. It wasn't the kind of love Karuizawa professed—loud and possessive—but it was no less real. It was quiet, like him. A steady, unspoken admiration that had grown into something she couldn't define until now. She thought she had respected him, like her brother, but it was more than that. He had become the one constant in her life without even noticing.And now, the thought of losing him forever left her feeling hollow in a way she couldn't bear.Horikita leaned forward, burying her face in her hands as her composure shattered completely. In the silence of her room, she cried for the boy she unknowingly fell in love with—the boy she had thought was untouchable. She cried for the moments they would never share, for the words she had left unspoken.And she cried because, for the first time, she realized just how much he had meant to her.▬▬ι═══════ﺤThe next morning began like no other at Advanced Nurturing High School. The usual hum of student chatter was eerily absent as the announcement spread across the campus. At exactly 8:00 AM, the electronic bulletin boards displayed the message that confirmed what many had feared."It is with great sorrow that we announce the passing of Ayanokoji Kiyotaka, a second-year student from Class 2-B. In his memory, a mourning ceremony will be held in the gymnasium at 10 AM. All Students and faculty are required to attend."The words were simple, clinical even, but their weight was felt deeply. The air across the campus grew heavier with every passing moment. Groups of students whispered in hushed tones, their voices tinged with disbelief and confusion. Even those who had barely known the individual, named Ayanokoji Kiyotaka, felt the gravity of his loss—he had been a constant presence in their lives, a quiet yet undeniable force.By the time the clock struck ten, the entire student body had gathered in the gymnasium. The seats were arranged in neat rows, dividing students by year and class. Faculty members stood at the edges of the room, their faces somber as they watched over the assembly.At the front of the gym, a large screen displayed Ayanokoji's student ID photo. His face was as calm and neutral as it had always been, yet now it carried an unspoken finality. Below the photo were the words:"In Memoriam: Ayanokoji Kiyotaka (10.20.1999 — 03.02.2017)"Chairman Sakayanagi stood at the podium, his usually commanding presence subdued. He surveyed the room, his hands gripping the edges of the podium tightly as if grounding himself. Finally, he cleared his throat, his voice echoing through the silent hall."Today, we gather under the shadow of a great loss," he began, his tone measured but heavy. " Ayanokoji Kiyotaka was more than just a student of this school. He was a presence that many of you, whether you realized it or not, looked up to. He carried himself with quiet strength and unparalleled composure, and in his time here, he left an impact on us all."The chairman paused, his gaze sweeping across the sea of faces. "In his memory, we will observe a moment of silence. Please bow your heads."The gymnasium fell into profound stillness. Heads bowed as a collective sense of grief filled the room.Horikita Suzune sat rigidly in her seat, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. She forced herself to keep her head down, but her thoughts raced. She felt the weight of her regret more keenly than ever. Ayanokoji had been the one constant in her life, always there with unwavering calm. She had taken his presence for granted, and now that he was gone, the emptiness was unbearable.Karuizawa Kei sat just a few seats away, tears streaming silently down her face. She kept her head low, her hands trembling in her lap. She thought of every moment she'd spent with Ayanokoji, every word he'd spoken to her. She had relied on him so much, and now she felt unmoored, adrift without the quiet strength he had always offered her.Further back, Sudo Ken sat with his arms crossed, his head tilted forward as if shielding himself from the world. His jaw was clenched tight, his breathing shallow and uneven. He had never thought of himself as someone who'd be deeply affected by loss, but this was different.Ayanokoji had been the one to push him, to believe in him when few others did. Though their relationship had often been distant, there was no denying the quiet respect Sudo held for him. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath, his voice cracking. "Why'd it have to be him?"Near his side, Kushida Kikyo sat unnervingly still, her usual radiant smile, she normally displayed in public, nowhere in sight. She stared straight ahead, her face pale, her fingers nervously twisting the edge of her sleeve. Ayanokoji had known the worst parts of her—her hidden cruelty, her deceit. Yet he had accepted her true self without judgment on the class trip to Hokkaido and even protected her from Ryuen.She had never understood him, not really. She even hated him as he knew her little secret, but since the Cultural Festival, she started to admire him—to see him in a different light. Perhaps she even loved him in her own twisted way. Now, the realization of that was a bitter pill to swallow.Hirata Yosuke's usually gentle and happy expression was clouded with sadness. He once again lost a friend he held precious, he mourned the loss of someone he had deeply respected and helped him enormously through a difficult time.Among the rows of second-year students, three figures sat together in the section for Class 2-B. They had once been part of a tight-knit group that had included Ayanokoji Kiyotaka. Though time and circumstances had driven a wedge between them, the echoes of those days lingered—and now, those echoes weigh heavily on their hearts.Haruka Hasebe stared blankly at the screen displaying Ayanokoji's photo, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. She had always been the most expressive of their group, but now her face was unreadable, her normally vibrant personality dulled by the weight of the news.He's really gone.The thought replayed in her mind, over and over, refusing to settle. Her feelings were a tangled mess of anger, sadness, and regret. She hadn't talked much to Ayanokoji in months—not since the day everything had changed. When Sakura Airi had been expelled, it was Ayanokoji who had made the final decision, shattering their group and, in many ways, their trust."I hated him for that," Haruka whispered under her breath, her voice barely audible. But now, faced with the finality of his absence, she wasn't sure what she felt.Her hand clenched into a fist, nails digging into her palm. Did he regret it? Did he ever think about us? The questions inside her were unanswered and now forever unanswerable.Akito Miyaki sat beside her, his usually calm and collected demeanor cracking at the edges. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the floor. His jaw was fixed, and his hands clasped together so tightly that his knuckles turned white.He wasn't the type to dwell on emotions—he preferred action and solutions. But there was no solution to this. No way to undo what had happened.Kiyotaka had been an enigma to him, even back when they were friends. Akito had admired his quiet strength and his ability to stay calm under pressure. He'd thought Ayanokoji was someone who could handle anything. That belief had shattered the day Airi was expelled."I don't get it," Akito muttered, his voice strained. "How could someone like him just... die?"Haruka turned to him, her voice sharp. "You're acting like he was invincible. He wasn't! None of us are!"Akito didn't reply. He didn't have the words to explain the strange hollow feeling in his chest, the sense that something had been ripped away before he could fully understand it.Teruhiko Yukimura, also rather referred to as Keisei Yukimura, stared straight ahead, his face a mask of neutrality, but his eyes betrayed him. They shimmered with unshed tears, reflecting the soft glow of the screen at the front of the gym.Even though he felt betrayed when Ayanokoji didn't tell them anything—about the abilities he has—he came to the conclusion that he himself is a hypocrite and has no right to demand answers from his friend.He is a person who doesn't like to talk about himself or about his past; he has no right to judge those who are also unwilling to do so.If he is true to himself, he became jealous the moment Ayanokoji scored 100% on the math exam at the beginning of the second year. He remembers how he tried to corner Ayanokoji to explain himself.How pathetic I was...Yukimura's hands tightened on the edge of his chair. He thought back to their group and to the quiet camaraderie they had once shared. Back then, Ayanokoji had been a part of something."He didn't even say goodbye," Yukimura muttered under his breath, the words bitter and hollow, his voice starting to break.Haruka glanced at him, her expression softening. "He wouldn't have. That's just who he was."Yukimura said nothing. He didn't trust himself to speak.On the other side of the gym, Sakayanagi Arisu observed the room with her usual calm. Her hands rested on her cane, which she placed on her lap, though her hands holding her cane were shaking. Of all students, except Amasawa Ichika, she knew the most about Ayanokoji's origins—about the White Room and the inhuman training he had endured. But even she hadn't predicted this outcome."What an unexpected turn of events," she murmured to herself, her gaze fixed on the screen displaying Ayanokoji's photo.A loss of this magnitude will undoubtedly ripple even beyond the school. What will Ayanokoji-sensei do now? But more importantly, Ayanokoji-kun were you able to experience human warmth? Did this institution help you find answers to your questions? I dearly hope so.Beside her, Hashimoto Masayoshi fidgeted, his usual smirk absent. He glanced at Sakayanagi, gauging her reaction, but found little comfort in her composed demeanor.In another section, Ichinose Honami sat with her best friend, Amikura Mako. Honami's usually vibrant face was streaked with tears, her eyes red and swollen. She clutched her hands tightly in her lap, her nails digging into her skin as she tried to process the news."Ayanokoji..." she whispered, her voice trembling. She had loved him, though unfortunately for her, that love was unrequited. He had been a quiet, steady presence in her life, someone who had always been there to help her when she needed it most. Now, that presence was gone, and the world felt unbearably fragile.Beside her, Amikura placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Honami..." she said softly, her teasing nature absent. She didn't know what to say—no words could ease the pain her friend was feeling.Toward the back of the gym, Ryuen Kakeru leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. His lips formed into a thin line. "The monster's gone," he muttered, almost to himself. "Didn't think that'd ever happen."But even Ryuen couldn't shake the unease settling in his chest. Ayanokoji had been more than a rival—he had been a force of nature, someone who had pushed Ryuen to his limits and beyond. Without him, the school felt... less dangerous. Boring. Less alive.Hiyori Shiina sat beside him, clutching a book to her chest. She didn't cry, but her eyes were glassy, her lips pressed into a thin line. Her friendship with Ayanokoji had been quiet, built on shared silences and a mutual love of books. She thought of the moments they had spent together in the library, and her heart ached with the knowledge that those moments were now memories.Some mourned openly, like Honami and Kei. Others grieved in their own Stoic way, like Suzune and Hiyori. And some, like Ryuen and Sakayanagi, paid respect to the individual named Ayanokoji Kiyotaka.Life at Advanced Nurturing High School would go on, but it would never be the same. Ayanokoji Kiyotaka was gone, and the void he left behind would be felt by everyone, whether they realized it yet or not.
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157,784,755...157,784,756...157,784,757...157,784,758...157,784,759...157,784,760Since regaining consciousness in this endless void, I've been counting the seconds in my head.Five years have passed in this dark, boundless expanse.The mental fortitude I once prided myself on has eroded, weakened by the state I was in. Counting has become my sole tether to reality, a monotonous rhythm to stave off complete detachment.Days—perhaps weeks—would slip by without a single star gracing the black abyss. And when one did appear, it vanished almost instantly, a fleeting reminder of what lay beyond this emptiness.I haven't encountered another existence since the moment I collapsed. But even if I had, my dulled senses likely wouldn't have registered it. My mind has grown sluggish, and perception itself feels alien.160,378,480...160,378,481...160,378,482A month slipped by in my counting when, for the first time in five years, I saw light.It wasn't much at first—just a flicker, an indistinct glow moving too fast for me to make sense of it. Yet, as the moments passed, the speed at which my soul traversed the void began to slow. Shapes emerged from the blur, faint but tangible. Stars and planets.And then, my gaze fell upon it.A sphere suspended in the infinite black, radiating an otherworldly presence. It was unlike anything I had ever seen. Split cleanly down the middle, it seemed to embody two opposing forces.One half shimmered with a warm, golden glow, soft and serene, as if it cradled the last rays of a setting sun. Swirls of amber and white danced along its surface, revealing vast lands that pulsed faintly, as though the terrain itself breathed with life. It was a vision of vitality and tranquility, a world where time seemed to pause in reverence.The other half was its shadowed twin, dark and foreboding. Gray and black hues consumed its surface, interrupted only by faint, silvery streams that rippled like veins across its vast expanse. The land seemed ancient, shrouded in mist and heavy with an enigmatic silence. It felt like the shadows themselves had weight, pressing against the fabric of existence, holding secrets too profound to grasp.Encircling the planet's equator was a luminous band, a shimmering veil that pulsed with soft light. Silver bled into blue, amber into gold, creating an ever-shifting bridge between the two halves. It didn't separate them—it bound them, a thread of harmony stitching light and shadow into a delicate, eternal balance.The planet seemed to defy understanding. Its glowing side radiated serenity, while the shadowed half exuded an almost magnetic pull, its mysteries reaching out to ensnare my thoughts. The contrast was both awe-inspiring and unsettling, like a battle of opposites frozen in perfect equilibrium.I couldn't tear my gaze away. This was no mere world; it was an enigma, a challenge to everything I had known. Every swirl of light, every ridge cloaked in shadow, seemed to whisper of boundless wonder and unfathomable danger.Every swirl of light, every ridge cloaked in shadow, seemed to whisper of boundless wonder and unfathomable dangerSuddenly, I felt it—a force pulling me toward the planet. Faster and faster, I descended, my soul drawn inexorably to the shadowed side. The gray and black terrain rushed toward me, and before I could take in more, the ground was mere meters away.I braced for impact, but my soul halted abruptly, hovering above the surface. The stillness lasted only a breath before something impossible began to unfold.Threads of light, faint and silvery, emerged from the air itself, weaving together into shapes. Bones, sinew, and flesh began to form, spinning into existence from nothingness. A body—a human body—took shape before me, each strand of its creation vibrating with an energy I couldn't comprehend.My soul was pulled toward it, merging with the growing vessel. I couldn't resist, nor did I try. As the final threads of flesh coalesced, my consciousness collided with the form, and in that instant, the world plunged into darkness.Silence.And then—nothing.▬▬ι═══════ﺤ"...urg." The sound escaped my lips as I stirred, my senses sluggishly returning. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I could feel, smell, hear, and see again.If my count was accurate—and it should be, unless the void somehow tampered with my mind—five years had passed since the moment I regained consciousness in the endless starry expanse. How long I had been unconscious before that, after collapsing at ANHS, was a mystery I couldn't begin to unravel.I pushed myself up carefully, my limbs trembling as I moved. My body felt alien, as though it had forgotten how to function after so long in that void. Every motion was awkward, unsteady, and yet, there was an odd relief in simply being able to move again.And then, I saw it.The sight before me stole the breath from my lungs.The air was dense and heavy, wrapping itself around me like a damp shroud. A pale mist lingered over the ground, curling lazily around jagged cliffs and shadowed valleys, their outlines blurred as if painted by an unsteady hand. Shadows stretched endlessly, clinging to the terrain like living things, moving and shifting subtly with the faint whispers of the wind.Above me hung a sky caught in perpetual twilight. Stars flickered weakly, their dim light barely piercing the mist-laden heavens. Wisps of silvery-blue light danced faintly at the edges of the horizon, moving like embers in a dying fire. The surrounding cliffs loomed tall and jagged, their peaks vanishing into the swirling mists above, standing like ancient guardians of a long-forgotten land.Strange plants grew in patches across the uneven ground, their wiry forms absorbing the faint light rather than reflecting it. Pools of dark water dotted the terrain, their still surfaces mirroring the faint glow of the ethereal lights above. The silence was profound, broken only by the occasional murmur of the wind brushing through gnarled branches, their skeletal forms clawing at the gray skies.This place felt alive—not in the way a forest teems with creatures, but in the way a deep, ancient ocean holds an undercurrent of hidden life and secrets. It exuded a presence, a weight pressing against my senses, at once enchanting and oppressive. Time itself seemed to bend and warp here, and the boundary between reality and something otherworldly felt fragile and faint."Wow..." The word escaped before I could stop it. Rarely in my life had I been truly awed. Even the greatest spectacles Earth had to offer never elicited such an involuntary reaction from me.Looking toward the horizon, I caught a faint glimmer of light—a golden warmth that seemed entirely out of place in this realm of shadowsLooking toward the horizon, I caught a faint glimmer of light—a golden warmth that seemed entirely out of place in this realm of shadows. Beyond it, I saw the faint curve of what I now recognized: a luminous band stretched across the heavens, bridging the light and shadow in an eternal, infinite dance. The realization dawned, vivid and undeniable.This was the planet I had seen before I lost consciousness.What shocked me even more was the body I now inhabited, seemingly formed out of thin air.I looked down, examining myself, and the shock of recognition froze me for a moment. My body had changed. My limbs were smaller, less defined, and my frame felt unfamiliar.My body had regressed, returning to the state it was in when I was just thirteen years old.Beyond that, I let out a sigh and muttered, "Why am I naked...""Could this strange phenomenon not have also provided me with some clothes?" I muttered lowly.I stood naked in the cold air, exposed to this alien world, unable to comprehend the supernatural forces that had brought me here. I had always dismissed the outlandish stories humans loved to tell—the ones of otherworldly realms, gods, and mystical journeys. Yet here I was, living proof that such things could exist.Why here? Why this place? Why was I brought here and how?I shook my head. These questions were unimportant now. I could ponder them later—if survival allowed me such luxuries.My mind snapped into its familiar rhythm, the same one drilled into me through years of training. Observing. Analyzing. Preparing. I had no time to wallow in confusion or awe.Food. Clothing. Shelter. Information.These were the priorities. The foundations of survival, no matter the world. Whatever this place was, however dangerous or unfamiliar, I would adapt. I always adapted. This place could throw all its mysteries and threats at me, and I would face them the only way I knew how: methodically, without hesitation, and with absolute resolve.I clenched my fists, taking one steadying breath before stepping forward into the unknown. The answers would come—one way or another. For now, I would focus on the one certainty that had driven me my entire life: survival.▬▬ι═══════ﺤThe valley stretched endlessly, its sheer size far greater than I had anticipated. At first, my wandering was aimless, my movements cautious as I navigated the alien terrain. The ground beneath my bare feet was uneven, shifting between patches of damp earth and sharp, jagged rocks. Each step was deliberate, my mind constantly analyzing and cataloging the environment, searching for anything of use.For hours, I pressed forward, finding nothing. No signs of wildlife. No structures. Not even a hint of water. It was as though this place had been abandoned by life itself, left to rot in eternal silence. By rough calculation, I had walked nearly twelve hours, covering over seventy kilometers despite the difficult terrain. The pace was grueling, each step a challenge to maintain focus and avoid missteps that could lead to injury. And yet, stopping was not an option.The land offered no reprieve. As night began to fall, the mist thickened, wrapping itself around me like a suffocating shroud. The faint light from the stars above grew dimmer, swallowed by the encroaching darkness. Continuing forward in this state would be madness—an invitation to the unseen dangers that surely lurked within the shadows.The air turned colder, its icy grip biting at my exposed skin. My breath misted in the freezing air, a harsh reminder of how vulnerable I was.I pushed onward, my gaze scanning the landscape for anything that could serve as shelter. Finally, I found it—a shallow overhang carved into the side of a cliff. It wasn't much, but it would have to do.I huddled beneath the overhang, wrapping my arms tightly around my knees in an effort to conserve body heat. The cold seeped into my bones, relentless and unforgiving. Above me, the faint light of the stars offered no solace, their distant glow barely piercing the mist-laden sky. The valley was silent, save for the faint whisper of wind through the skeletal trees.So this is what survival feels like. Interesting. My entire life had been a test of endurance, a battle against impossible odds. Yet, I would have never imagined ending up in a situation like this.Sleep came in fits and starts, my mind on high alert for even the faintest sound of movement. Every creak of the trees, every shift of the wind, made me alert. I was a coiled spring, ready to snap at the slightest provocation.▬▬ι═══════ﺤThe second day dawned with a sense of purpose. Survival had taken root in my mind, and the clarity of my situation was undeniable. I couldn't rely on luck to find shelter again; I needed to take control.I woke up after seven hours of sleep, though the persistent darkness outside made it impossible to gauge time accurately. The mist still hung low over the ground, its presence oppressive and unyielding. I waited, watching as it began to thin, revealing the bleak expanse of the valley once more."A proper shelter," I murmured aloud, my voice breaking the silence. "Something more secure. This won't last."The memory of wandering seventy kilometers the previous day lingered in my mind. I would need to move often if I found nothing in this area. But a stable base was the first step. I couldn't keep expending energy without a reliable fallback.My stomach growled, a sharp reminder of another pressing concern. Hunger gnawed at me, its presence growing more insistent with each passing moment. If this valley is entirely desolate... I shook my head, refusing to entertain the thought. There had to be something here. Some form of sustenance.Once the mist began to clear, I set to work. The skeletal trees and wiry plants around me became my first resource. I gathered fallen branches, large leaves, and sharp rocks, my hands moving with a single-minded determination. Every item I collected had a purpose in my mind—a crude lean-to against the cliffside, a shelter that would offer some protection against the elements.It was far from elegant. The roof of leaves, woven together with thin branches, barely provided cover. The jagged rocks I arranged in a rough circle around the site were hardly a defense. But it was a start. It was mine.With the shelter complete, I turned my attention to tools. Using a thick branch and one of the sharp stones I had collected, I fashioned a spear. The process was slow and deliberate, the stone's edge was refined by striking it repeatedly against another rock until it became thin and sharp. The result was crude but functional, bound tightly to the branch with plant fibers.I held the spear aloft, testing its weight. It felt familiar, almost natural in my hands. Memories of combat training in the White Room surfaced unbidden, the movements instinctive. Some skills never fade, I thought.Clothing, however, was still a problem. The leaves I used to drape over myself offered minimal protection against the cold, but they were far from adequate. I would need something better—and soon....With a few hours of daylight left, I decided to scour the valley for signs of life. To avoid losing my way, I marked my path with scratches on rocks and notches in tree trunks, creating a makeshift trail back to the shelter. It was a simple system, but effective. This precaution wasn't optional; getting lost here could mean certain death.An hour into my search, I noticed faint tracks etched into the damp earth. My gaze lingered on them, sharp and calculating. These were fresh, unmistakable, and my mind quickly began to process their direction and likely source. My breathing remained steady, my movements precise and unhurried as I followed the trail. Each step was a measured act, a blend of efficiency and caution, though the faint hope of sustenance gnawed quietly at the edges of my thoughts.The tracks led me to a clearing, and there, nestled in the shadows, were surprisingly large rodent-like creatures, each about 50 centimeters in length, grazing on the sparse vegetation scattered across the area. Their fur was a deep black, almost absorbing the faint light around them, and they moved with a nervous, skittish energy as if sensing the ever-present danger in their environment.I crouched low, gripping my crude spear tightly. Instinct took over. Years of relentless training in the White Room surged forward, guiding my actions. My movements were fluid, every motion deliberate and noiseless as I stalked the creatures. My eyes analyzed their patterns, the subtle shifts in their behavior, and the gaps in their defenses.One of the smaller beasts wandered away from the group, its steps hesitant. It paused, sniffing the air, oblivious to the predator closing in. I shifted my weight, my muscles coiling like a spring ready to release.Perfect.In a single, fluid motion, I lunged forward. The spear struck true, piercing the creature's side with a sickening crunch. Blood sprayed across my hands and face, warm and metallic. The creature shrieked in pain, its body convulsing in a desperate attempt to escape. It struggled, its limbs flailing weakly, but my second thrust ended its life.I stared at the lifeless form, blood pooling beneath it as its final twitch faded into stillness. My expression remained unchanged. There was no place for sentiment here. Survival required sacrifice, and this was no different.Lifting the creature onto my shoulders, I rose to my feet, ignoring the slick warmth of its blood against my skin. My gaze swept the clearing one last time, ensuring no other threats lingered nearby, before I turned back to retrace my marked trail. The weight of the creature slowed my pace, the added burden straining my body, but I pressed on. Every step brought me closer to the fragile semblance of safety I had carved out for myself....The journey back to the shelter was slower, the weight of the creature slung across my shoulders adding to the strain. But I made it, just as darkness began to fall again.Building a fire was the next challenge. Using dry leaves and twigs, I struck the rocks together repeatedly, creating small sparks that finally caught. Carefully, I fed the embers until a small flame emerged.The warmth was immediate, a welcome reprieve from the cold. I fed the fire with larger branches, coaxing it to life.With one of the sharp stones, I fashioned a crude knife, binding it to a short, thick branch. It wasn't sharp, but it was enough to start skinning the creature. The process was slow and laborious, the dull blade dragging against the hide. Blood pooled beneath it, the metallic scent filling the air."I never thought the survival books in the White Room would prove useful," I murmured, cutting the meat into smaller pieces.By the time I finished, the knife had dulled and snapped. "It lasted longer than expected," I muttered. "Good enough for now."Suspending the meat over the fire, I turned it carefully, ensuring it cooked evenly. The smell of roasting meat filled the air, earthy and strange, but undeniably appealing.Thirst clawed at me, and without a water source, I had no choice but to drink the creature's blood. The taste was bitter and metallic, but it kept dehydration at bay.As I ate, the fire's warmth seeped into my skin, pushing back the chill and the encroaching shadows. When the meal was done, I extinguished the fire, wary of attracting unwanted attention.Exhaustion settled over me, as I laid back in the shelter. My mind churned with plans for the next day.I had survived another day, but I couldn't stop here. The valley demanded more of me, and I would meet its challenges head-on. Survival was only the beginning.▬▬ι═══════ﺤThe next day, as the dim twilight of the valley persisted, I awoke with a clearer goal. Clothing was my next challenge—one I couldn't ignore any longer. The chill of the valley's misty air had been an ever-present discomfort, biting at my exposed skin and sapping my energy. Protection against the elements was no longer a luxury but a necessity.The body of the creature I had skinned the previous day lay in a heap near the shelter. Its dark, wiry fur was coarse and rough, hardly ideal for garments, but it was better than nothing. Kneeling beside it, I examined the hide carefully, noting its uneven thickness and patches of dried blood. My crude knife, though barely functional, would have to suffice for shaping the material.I began by trimming the edges of the hide, removing jagged bits that would make the garment unwieldy. Each cut required precision, my hands steady as I worked the blade along the pelt. The process was slow, the dull blade dragging against the stubborn fur, but I persevered. Survival didn't allow for frustration.Once the pelt was trimmed, I turned my attention to stitching it into something wearable. Using plant fibers I had gathered earlier, I twisted and braided them into rough threads. The threads were strong enough to hold, but flexible enough to weave through the hide. For a needle, I sharpened a small bone fragment from the creature's remains, its pointed edge just adequate to pierce the tough material.Threading the bone needle, I began sewing. In each stitch, the fibers loop through the pelt in uneven, crude patterns. The result was far from elegant—a patchwork tunic that hung awkwardly over my frame—but it was functional. It offered a layer of insulation against the cold, shielding me from the worst of the valley's icy grip.Satisfied with the tunic, I turned my attention to my feet. The sharp rocks and uneven ground had taken their toll, leaving my soles tender and raw. Using strips of bark from the skeletal trees and additional plant fibers, I fashioned rudimentary sandals. The bark served as a rough sole, while the fibers secured it tightly around my feet. The sandals were crude, but the relief they provided was immediate. Walking without the sting of jagged terrain was a small attainment, one that allowed me to direct my focus elsewhere.As I moved about my shelter, testing the flexibility of my new attire, I began to notice patterns in the valley's ever-present mist. It would thin during certain hours, retreating just enough to reveal more of the terrain. The creatures I hunted seemed to follow a rhythm, grazing in the same clearings at regular intervals. The realization was a small but crucial piece of information—an insight into the valley's natural order.Armed with this knowledge, I set out to map the immediate area around my shelter. Using my spear, I scratched markings onto rocks and tree trunks, creating a network of landmarks to guide my movements. Each mark represented a piece of the valley I had explored, a step toward imposing some semblance of order on the chaotic expanse.The day passed quickly, and my focus was absorbed by these tasks. By the time the faint twilight began to dim further, signaling the approach of night, I had mapped a small but significant portion of the valley within my area.Back at my shelter, I sat near the dying embers of my fire, my crude tunic and sandals offering a small reprieve from the cold. The valley was still, its silence broken only by the occasional whisper of wind through the skeletal trees. I stared into the fading light, my mind turning over the patterns I had observed and the progress I had made.Survival was a puzzle, each day revealing a new piece. And while the picture was far from complete, I had taken another step forward, another step closer to mastering this valley. The challenges were relentless, but so was I. This valley, vast and unforgiving, would not hold me back.▬▬ι═══════ﺤBy the end of the week, a rhythm had taken hold of my days. The routine was necessary: dismantling my shelter each morning, gathering my tools and supplies, and pressing onward through the unyielding terrain. Each evening, I would construct a new shelter in the fading twilight, always further than the last. This constant movement slowed my overall pace, but it allowed me to explore more of the valley's shadowed expanse.My body, still adjusting to its younger form, was steadily regaining its former control. Each movement was smoother and more deliberate. The lethargy I felt when I first arrived had all but dissipated. It wasn't perfect yet, but I could feel the gap between this body and the one honed in the White Room narrowing with every passing day.With my foundation firmly established—Food, Shelter, and Clothing—I now turned my attention to the final and most critical priority: Information.Information is the cornerstone of survival. It's what separates the hunter from the hunted, the victor from the vanquished. In ANHS for example, information was power—how I could predict the outcomes and manipulate events to my advantage. In the White Room, I was trained to assess, gather, and wield information with precision. It became part of my nature.People's personalities, their goals, their weaknesses, their desires.The system's secret. Rules that could be bent to a certain degree.I have studied people, studied the system, the rules, and everything I could within that closed environment. All of that information allowed me to control the situation to my liking—towards my goal.But here? In this alien valley—in this world—, the rules were different. I was no longer in a world where data could be fed to me or strategies calculated in advance—not yet, at least. I was alone, surrounded by the unknown, with no reliable framework to guide me. Information was no less vital, but the means of acquiring it had shifted.Understanding where I was, what kind of world this was, and whether there was any semblance of civilization nearby was paramount. Without answers to these questions, I couldn't formulate a plan, and without a plan, my survival was meaningless.Information is critical in every world, I reflected. In the world I left behind, it dictated everything—businesses rose and fell by it, governments wielded it like a weapon, and lives were saved or destroyed depending on how well it was managed. In an unknown world like this, its importance is magnified tenfold. Without information, I'm operating blind.I had already begun the process of gathering what little I could by moving my shelter daily, venturing deeper and deeper into the valley. Each shift revealed new terrain and new patterns. I marked significant landmarks in my brain, cataloged changes in this environment, and observed the behavior of the creatures that roamed this strange land.The mist, which I had initially regarded as an oppressive and disorienting force, began to reveal its own rhythm. It would thin and recede during certain times of the day, exposing hidden paths and features of the valley. The creatures I hunted followed predictable routes, their movements tied to unseen cycles. Even the faint light above, filtered through the eternal twilight, seemed to shift subtly, casting different parts of the valley in shadow or illumination.These observations were pieces of a puzzle, scattered fragments that I needed to assemble. The valley was vast and unyielding, its secrets buried beneath layers of silence and shadow. But each day, I chipped away at its mystery, driven by the need to understand.▬▬ι═══════ﺤI paused one afternoon atop a jagged ridge, my shelter dismantled and packed neatly into the makeshift bag I had fashioned from bark and plant fibers. Below me stretched a clearing, its edges lined with skeletal trees. The faint tracks of grazing creatures crisscrossed the ground, but my eyes were fixed on the horizon.In the distance, the valley seemed to narrow, the cliffs on either side drawing closer together. It was a subtle change, but it piqued my curiosity. Perhaps the narrowing signified a transition—a shift in the valley's geography that could lead to new discoveries."Information is the thread that ties everything together," I murmured aloud, my voice barely breaking the silence. "Without it, I'm just a wanderer in the dark, reacting instead of acting. If I don't understand the rules of this world, I'll remain at its mercy."The need to gather information wasn't born of fear. It was a necessity, a logical step in the process of survival. I wasn't content to simply exist here. I needed to know what lay beyond the valley, whether there were others like me—intelligent beings who could provide answers. And if there weren't, I needed to understand this world well enough to thrive in it.By this point, my explorations had revealed several key features of the valley. There were small streams that occasionally carved through the terrain, their waters shallow but clear. I had yet to find their source, but they offered a glimmer of hope—proof that this land wasn't entirely lifeless.The skeletal trees, though haunting in appearance, provided some of the materials I needed for survival. Their bark was fibrous and pliable, useful for crafting tools and bindings. The strange plants that grew near the pools of inky water yielded a sticky resin when cut, which I began experimenting with as an adhesive.The creatures, too, were becoming more familiar. Their routes and behaviors were predictable, allowing me to hunt with greater efficiency. But they remained skittish, vanishing at the faintest sign of danger. This suggested that predators roamed the valley, though I had yet to encounter any.Suddenly, a faint sound pierced the stillness—a murmur carried on the shifting air. My muscles tensed. It was different from the noises of the valley's creatures or the rustling of skeletal trees. This was deliberate, rhythmic, unmistakably human. Voices.My hand instinctively tightened around the spear. I placed my bag down against the trunk of a gnarled tree, careful to keep it hidden but within reach, and began moving silently toward the source of the sounds. My footsteps were deliberate, each one placed with precision to avoid snapping twigs or disturbing the rocky ground. The training from my past kicked in.As I crested a ridge, the scene below unfolded before me. I spotted two figures, looming over a third, who lay sprawled on the ground."You've wasted enough of our time, old man!" one of the bandits, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek, growled, kicking the figure at his feet. His voice carried, echoing in the open valley. In his hand, he gripped a heavy axe, its blade glinting faintly in the dim light.Mandarin? I thought to myself.I knelt low, observing. My breathing slowed as I assessed the situation. My gaze flickered between the bandits and their victim. Two opponents, armed and at ease, with little concern for their surroundings.Aside from the burlier bandit, the other one was taller, leaner, and cautious—the kind who stayed back and watched, his sword always ready. The burlier one was brutish, impulsive, and overconfident, the type who led with intimidation rather than strategy.The older man, frail and bloodied, coughed violently before trying to speak. "Please... I've told you everything I know. You're misunderstanding, the village has nothing to do with this..."The other bandit sneered, his grip tightening on his weapon, "Liar. If you value your life, you'll tell us where the treasure is hidden. Or do you need another demonstration?" He raised his sword, the blade catching a glimmer of pale light.Treasure? I frowned. The old man's desperate tone didn't match the accusation. But the word "village" lingered in my thoughts. A village meant people—civilization, a chance to gather information. If I helped this man, it might open a door to understanding this world.Aside from a village, there also seemed to be a bandit outpost somewhere within the area. Moreover, why did the old man venture here, into this valley? Was he searching for something?Enough watching, I decided. This was my opportunity. I shifted my weight, readying the spear as I descended the ridge.I considered coming barehanded without a weapon but discarded the notion.I kicked a pebble at the ground, letting it roll down the slope, which alerted the two bandits. Their heads turned sharply, eyes narrowing as they spotted me."Oi, who's there?" the burly one growled, his hand gripping the axe at his side. His eyes narrowed as he spotted me emerging from the mist. "A kid?" He spat on the ground, his expression twisting with contempt. "Crawled out of a cave, did ya?"I glanced at my makeshift clothing, realizing how disheveled I must appear. His words weren't entirely inaccurate—I looked like a caveman with the clothing I made. Well, that insult hurt.The second bandit with a sword in his hands sized me up, his lips curling in amusement! "Hah! Looks like we've got ourselves a lost kid. Maybe his parents left him here to fend for himself."I remained silent, my face expressionless as I approached. The old man turned weakly to look at me, confusion and worry flickering across his weathered features."Hey, kid!" the burly bandit called out, stepping forward. "What's your deal? Can't you talk? Or are you just stupid?"I stayed silent, not replying to his inquiries."You got a death wish, or are you here to save this geezer? Scram for me, will you? Before I change my mind."I tilted my head slightly, my amber eyes unblinking. If I were able to act and change my outward expression like Kushida this situation would be much easier to handle."Sigh..." I let out an audible sigh, which seemed to provoke the bandit with the axe. Meanwhile, the second bandit, who seemed a bit guarded, stayed further away. It appears like he is the smarter and more careful one among both."You've got a death wish, huh?" His grip on his axe tightened, and he sneered. "Oi, Cheng Wuying, look at his face. He'd fetch a good price with those freaks from the Shadowthorn Covenant Sect. They're always looking for fresh goods."Shadowthorn Covenant Sect? I frowned slightly, barely noticeable on my face. The name hung in the air like a curse.Cheng Wuying nodded, his amusement fading. "You're right. He's got the look they'd like. But don't damage him too much. They're picky about their merchandise."The burly bandit grinned, tossing his axe aside. "Don't worry. I'll keep him in one piece." He cracked his knuckles and took a step toward me, exuding an air of arrogant confidence.A big mistake. Even though he seemed to see me as a kid I still had a spear in my hand, seems like he had great confidence in his strength.For the first time I spoke up, my voice cold and threatening, "Are you sure you want to do this?"His grin faltered for a moment before he barked a laugh. "You've got guts, kid. I'll give you that." Without waiting for Cheng Wuying's cautionary frown, he charged, his fists raised.Sloppy. His movements were heavy and unrefined, more suited to a brawl than a fight. I sidestepped his wild punch easily, pivoting on my heel and driving the butt of my spear into his ribs. The air left his lungs in a wheeze, and he stumbled, clutching his side."Too slow," I said flatly.The bandit spun around, rage coloring his face. "You little—!"Good, be angry, that's what makes this fight easier.He lunged again, this time with more desperation than strategy. I ducked under his swing, stepping into his guard and slamming my elbow into his solar plexus. The force dropped him to his knees, gasping for air.Cheng Wuying's eyes narrowed as he raised his sword. "You're no ordinary kid," he muttered, his stance shifting.Before he could act, I grabbed the burly bandit by the neck, using him as a human shield. The tip of my spear pressed against his throat. "Drop the weapon," I said, my voice calm but commanding.The bandit in my grip panicked, thrashing weakly. "Wuying, do something!""You-! How dare you!" The burly bandit continued, struggling in my grip.I pressed the cold tip of the spear deeper against his throat, just enough to draw a thin bead of blood that trickled down the edge. That was enough; his struggles ceased immediately."You-! You don't know with whom you are messing with, Brat! My uncle is a Qi Condensation cultivator; he will find you and kill you if you don't let me go!" The bandit panicked and threatened me.Qi Condensation?What is this? He spoke that name with both respect and a tinge of fear. Why? What made it so significant? Regardless, it was never my plan to kill them—not yet, at least.The disadvantages would far outweigh the benefits of killing both bandits. For one, the old man, though clearly amazed, would likely feel uneasy and hesitant to bring a child into his village—especially one capable of easily dispatching two armed bandits. This would hinder my chances of gaining the information I needed from him, making restraint the more logical choice.Besides, something about the words spoken earlier—Qi Condensation—left me with an uneasy feeling. Though I didn't fully understand why, a part of me instinctively knew it would be wise to avoid provoking major trouble, at least for now.Chen Wuying, the calmer, and more careful person among those two stepped in. "Brother Fang calm down."The burly bandit, now identified as Fang from his companion's earlier words, immediately ceased his shouting, his demeanor shifting as the situation settled in.Cheng Wuying hesitated, his sharp mind working behind his guarded expression. "Fellow friend," he continued, his tone placating. "We were mistaken. There's no need for this to escalate. Release my companion, and we'll part ways peacefully."His attempt at diplomacy was a thin veil over the threat in his words, but it worked in my favor. I pushed the burly bandit away, releasing him. He stumbled back, glaring at me with a mix of fury and fear."Your name?" Cheng Wuying asked, his tone cautious.I hesitated for a moment before replying. "Bái Xūé [白虚 - "White Void"]."Cheng Wuying repeated the name thoughtfully. "Bái Xūé... Bái Xūé... a name I won't forget." He sheathed his weapon and turned, gesturing for his companion to follow. "Come on. We're leaving."As they disappeared into the mist, I turned my attention to the old man. His gaze was fixed on me, filled with gratitude and disbelief."Can you move?" I asked, crouching beside him.He nodded weakly. "Barely. Thank you... Bái Xūé.""Save your strength," I said, helping him to his feet. "What's beyond this valley?""A village," he replied between labored breaths. "My home. It's safe... safer than this place.""And why were the bandits here?"His face darkened. "My son... he's ill. The doctor needs a rare plant to treat him. It only grows here within the Nocturnis Vale. I've been searching for months, and today, I finally found it. The bandits thought I was after a treasure."Nocturnis Vale? Seems to be the name of this valley.I glanced at the plant he clutched tightly, its delicate leaves trembling in his hand. "They didn't take it?""No," he said, his relief palpable. "You arrived just in time.""Let's get you back to the village," I said, brushing the dirt from my hands. "You need treatment yourself."The old man looked at me with weary gratitude but said nothing."But first wait a moment, I need to pick up my belongings."Without waiting for his response, I turned and dashed toward the tree where I had stashed my makeshift backpack before the encounter. Slinging it over my shoulder, I returned swiftly to where the old man waited, his frail form leaning heavily against a jagged rock."Here," I said, lending him my shoulder for support. His weight was light, but his frailty made each step a careful process. "Where is your village?" I asked though I could already guess where it was located.Confirming my thoughts, he raised a trembling hand and pointed in the direction the bandits had fled. "That way..." he rasped, his voice cracking before he broke into a harsh cough.I nodded, adjusting his weight against me. Without another word, we began our slow journey toward the village. The sound of his labored breathing was the only noise, blending with the faint whispers of the valley's omnipresent mist.The Shadowthorn Covenant Sect, Nocturnis Vale, and Qi Condensation, huh?I couldn't help but secretly feel a tiny amount of excitement, contrary to my usual self.Now that my situation didn't seem to be so grim anymore a path materialized before my eyes.A world where I wasn't bound by the White Room—or at least not physically. A world where no one knows who I am, where I can start anew, and be free.I still didn't know and likely won't ever know why I was transported into this world, but I am thankful for it. Well, though I wanted to see the results of my actions in ANHS, I won't complain.But now I need to focus on the path ahead, the village, the mysteries surrounding the Nocturnis Vale, and what that burly bandit called Fang meant with Qi Condensation.That's the most important thing now."Huh, Bái Xūé, that is what I am called now, huh..." I mumbled softlyThe old man beside me leaning on my shoulder looked at me and asked me "Sorry... did you mention something?"I didn't answer him and looked ahead. White Void, huh? I blurted out this name, and even now without being physically in the White Room, mentally I still am within it.I wonder if this will ever change...
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
After an hour-long walk, slowed by the old man's weakened condition, he led me through the dense, swirling mist. As we emerged from the shadowed woods, a village revealed itself, sprawling across the base of the cliffs like a hidden sanctuary. Its size caught me off guard—a larger settlement than I had anticipated. Rustic wooden houses with thatched roofs dotted the landscape, their silhouettes merging seamlessly with the fog that blanketed the surroundings.The air was thick with the earthy scent of damp soil and the faint tang of wood smoke. Lanterns, their faint glow shimmering through the mist, hung from posts and doorways, casting soft reflections on the dew-covered ground. Narrow dirt paths crisscrossed the village, linking the homes to a central square where a large, weathered stone well stood, its surface smoothed by time. Around the square, makeshift stalls had been set up, displaying modest goods—bundles of herbs, hand-carved trinkets, and worn tools—all tended by villagers cloaked in garments similar to what people in the medieval period would wear.The faint hum of life carried through the stillness, Farmers worked small, mist-shrouded fields at the outskirts, while children darted between houses, their laughter subdued but persistent. An old wooden bridge arched over a shallow stream running along the edge of the settlement, the water shimmering faintly under the dim light of the lanterns.Above it all, the jagged cliffs loomed in the distance, their dark form rising like silent sentinels. The mist swirled around their peaks, making the entire village feel like it existed in a world apart—isolated and serene.It was home to roughly a hundred people, their lives etched into the rugged landscape.Our arrival did not go unnoticed. Curious and wary eyes turned toward us as villagers stopped their work, their attention quickly drawn to the old man and his battered state. Their expressions shifted between concern for him and unease toward me, an outsider disrupting their daily rhythm.One of the villagers, a man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties, approached cautiously. His face bore a mixture of worry and suspicion as he bent to help the old man. "Grandpa Zi Tu, what happened? Who gave you these injuries?" he asked, his voice tinged with alarm.Before the old man could respond, I stepped in, my voice calm but firm. "Be careful. It's best to lay him down somewhere safe and treat him immediately."The man's gaze snapped to me, wary. "Who are you?" he asked sharply."Don't worry about that for now," I replied evenly. "Focus on helping him."Zi Tu, despite his evident pain, managed to speak weakly. "Shen Yi... don't worry about the child. You might be suspicious, but I owe him my life. Some bandits... they were going to rob me, but that child stepped in..."The man, apparently called Shen Yi, froze for a moment, his expression shifting to one of shock and fury. "Bandits? What are they doing here? Isn't the Shadowthorn Covenant Sect supposed to protect us?"His voice carried frustration and anger as he turned back to Zi Tu. "Grandpa, why do you keep going to the Nocturnis Vale? We've told you time and again how dangerous it is! You could have died!"Zi Tu coughed weakly; his breath labored. "Shen Yi, you know why... I have to save my son..."Shen Yi's anger faltered, replaced by a pained look. "I know," he said softly, his voice trembling with resignation. "But you could have been killed." He didn't finish the thought, the weight of it evident in his tone.By now, a small group of villagers had gathered, murmuring among themselves. Together, they helped carry Zi Tu to one of the empty makeshift tents at the edge of the square. The inside was dim, lit only by a single flickering lantern, its warm glow casting long shadows across the rough walls.As the villagers busied themselves around Zi Tu, I observed silently from a distance. Zi Tu's resolve to risk his life for his son resonated with the villagers, evident in their hushed, empathetic gestures. It was clear this was a close-knit community, bound by shared struggles and a tenuous existence.Zi Tu broke the silence inside the tent, his voice frail but determined. "Shen Yi... I had no choice. My son... he needs that plant, or he won't survive. I found it... but the bandits almost took everything."Shen Yi kneeled beside him, his jaw tightening. "I understand, Grandpa... but at what cost? You're not as strong as you once were. You don't even know if the plant will even work; last time it didn't!"Zi Tu closed his eyes, the tension in his body easing slightly. "I know... but what choice do I have?" he whispered.The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken truths. Shen Yi's shoulders slumped, and he nodded silently, unable to argue against the old man's determination. The surrounding villagers exchanged somber glances, the gravity of the situation weighing on everyone present.One middle-aged villager stepped forward, his attire indicating some measure of medical knowledge. His demeanor carried the confidence of experience, and as he entered the makeshift tent, the other villagers stepped back, leaving just the three of us—Zi Tu, the healer, and me.The interior of the tent was dimly lit by a single, flickering oil lamp. The air was thick with the mingling scents of damp straw and medicinal herbs. Zi Tu lay sprawled on a straw mat, his face pale and contorted with pain, occasional groans escaping his lips. The healer bent over him, his hands deftly working as he dabbed a damp cloth along the jagged wound running down Zi Tu's side. He muttered under his breath about infections and the scarcity of herbs, his tools spread haphazardly around him: a dull iron knife, a pouch of dried herbs, coarse linen strips, and a small bowl of murky water.I stood silently by the entrance, my eyes assessing the process with quiet scrutiny. The methods were rudimentary, a stark reminder of medieval medicine. It was no surprise—this village's modest resources and isolated location meant their knowledge would be similarly limited.But is it just this village that is different, or is this the norm in this world?As the healer sprinkled powdered herbs onto the wound, my gaze narrowed slightly."You're going to seal the sound with the sinew thread immediately after applying those herbs?" I asked, my calm voice cutting through the quiet.As a side note, my body's age is 13, and I am going through puberty now—though it isn't affecting my mental state, my body is affected. With that, I am going through a voice change. How could I even scare away that one bandit with this high-pitched voice?The healer flinched slightly at the interruption, his movements pausing mid-sprinkle. He turned, his brows, furrowed, and gave me a sharp look. "Yes. Why? The herbs will stop the bleeding and ward off infection. I've treated wounds like this for years. I know what I'm doing."I didn't fault him for his reaction. A boy, barely in his teens, questioning the methods of an experienced healer would undoubtedly wound his pride. His knowledge was likely passed down through generations—a mix of tradition and trial-and-error, rather than advanced understanding.Not bothered by his suspicion and doubt, I stepped forward. I crouched beside the old man. "The wound hasn't been fully cleaned. Dirt and debris are still embedded in the edges. Stitching it now would trap the contaminants inside, leading to a severe infection. That paste you're using will only delay it, not prevent it."The healer bristled, his expression hardening. "Are you questioning my methods, boy? This isn't some game. I've been tending to injuries long before you were born."The old man, however, shifted weakly, his voice strained but firm. "Listen to him," he said, his gaze flickering toward me. "He saved my life out there. If he has advice, I want you to heed it."The healer hesitated, clearly torn between pride and the old man's insistence. His eyes darted between me and Zi Tu before he let out a reluctant sigh. "Fine. If you think you know better, what do you suggest?"I stepped forward without hesitation, crouching beside Zi Tu and gesturing toward the bowl of water. "First, boil the water. The clothes and tools you're using aren't clean enough. If you stitch him up now, you'll trap dirt and debris inside the wound, leading to a dangerous infection."The healer frowned deeply but, after a moment of grumbling, moved to place the bowl over a small flame. I didn't wait for him to finish. Taking a clean strip of linen, I began wiping around the edges of the wound with deliberate care, paying attention to areas the healer had missed. Zi Tu winced under my touch but didn't protest, his trust evident.As the water began to boil, I poured it into a second bowl. Letting it cool slightly, I dipped another strip of cloth into the hot water and resumed cleaning, this time more thoroughly. Bits of dirt and debris came away, staining the cloth dark."See this?" I held up the soiled cloth for the healer to see. "If you had stitched the wound as it was, this dirt would have festered inside, causing severe complications."The healer's jaw tightened, and his pride visibly stung. "And what do you suggest next?" he asked, his tone clipped but begrudging.I examined the herbs he had prepared, picking through the dried leaves and powders. Some were faintly familiar—similar in appearance and scent to plants on Earth. Selecting a combination that I recognized as effective against inflammation, I crushed the herbs together, adding a small amount of the cooled water to create a paste."These will work better for reducing inflammation and promoting healing," I explained, handing the paste to the healer. "Apply this to the wound before stitching. It will also help prevent infection."The healer watched skeptically but did as I instructed, spreading the paste over the wound. Zi Tu's pained grimace eased slightly, a weak smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You've done this before, haven't you, lad?" he asked, his voice tinged with gratitude.I didn't answer immediately, focusing instead on threading a needle from the healer's supplies. "Who knows?" I said finally, my tone neutral.I handed the needle to the healer, meeting his gaze evenly. "You can stitch now, but leave room for the wound to breathe. Don't pull the thread too tight."The healer paused, scrutinizing me for a long moment before nodding silently. His hands moved with practiced efficiency, though I could tell he was now following my instructions with care. As he worked, Zi Tu turned his gaze toward me, his eyes shining with something akin to admiration."You've got the hands of a healer, boy," he murmured, his voice weak but filled with gratitude. "But there's more to you than that, isn't there?"My expression remained unreadable as I stepped back. "It's just necessity," I replied evenly, my gaze drifting toward the tent's entrance. "Nothing more"Despite not looking at them, I could feel their gaze on me.The hands of a healer, huh? I don't think so.▬▬ι═══════ﺤI stepped out of the tent, letting the cold air bite at my skin, and glanced up at the dark, mist-shrouded sky. The stillness of the village hung heavily around me, broken only by the distant murmur of villagers tending to their evening tasks.I exhaled slowly, the faint mist of my breath dispersing in the chilled air.Why did I step in? The question lingered in my mind. I could have just stood by, remaining an observer, yet I felt a strange compulsion to help the old man, Zi Tu. It wasn't logical. There was no immediate benefit to me—no debt or obligation. And yet, I acted.Seeing me leave the tent, Shen Yi approached with a worried expression. "Did everything go well?" he asked, his tone earnest."Yes," I replied, my voice calm. "The old man just needs rest now."Shen Yi visibly relaxed, his shoulder easing as a small sigh escaped his lips. "Thank the heavens," he murmured. Then, after a brief pause, he added, "Ever since his son was cursed by one of the Shadowthorn Covenant Sect's disciplines, he's been going into the Nocturnis Vale every day, searching for that plant to cure him. He even found it once before, but the handling of the plant was false."His words caught my attention immediately. "Cursed, you say? So it's not an illness?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.Shen Yi hesitated, glancing nervously around the clearing, as though the shadows themselves might overhear us. "No... it's not," he admitted quietly. "But we shouldn't talk about it. The village doesn't want to provoke the wrath of the Immortals again."Immortals. The term was spoken with reverence and fear. He had used the character xian (仙), a word that implied spiritually transcendent or super-powered beings. Unlike its Japanese counterpart (Fumetsu no-不滅の), which emphasizes indestructibility or undying, the connotation here seemed more aligned with profound power and otherworldly status.One simple word had revealed more than I'd expected. It confirmed that this world operated under rules vastly different from Earth's, yet it also hinted at a structure—one where humans could ascend to wield supernatural power.So, the Immortals exist here... I thought, my mind turning over the possibilities. This revelation aligned with what I'd already suspected. My forced arrival into this world had been anything but ordinary, and now it seemed humans here could wield abilities far beyond what I once believed possible.Qi Condensation. The term the bandit had mentioned earlier resurfaced in my thoughts. Was it part of becoming one of these Immortals?And more importantly, how far could their powers extend? I needed answers.I glanced back at Shen Yi, who still appeared uncomfortable discussing the topic. Deciding not to press further, I let the matter drop for now. There was no benefit to prying, especially if it would only unsettle the villagers and paint me in a negative light.Instead, I shifted the conversation. "Do you have any written records or information?" I asked. "A map of the surrounding area, or anything that could help me understand more about this place?"Shen Yi seemed relieved at the change of subject. "We don't have much," he admitted. "The village relies mostly on oral traditions. But..." He paused, thinking for a moment. "There's an elder, Grandmother Qiao. She's lived longer than anyone here and keeps some old scrolls in her home. They're... sparse, but they might be useful."I nodded, filling the name away. "Thank you. I'd like to speak with her."Shen Yi hesitated, as though weighing something in his mind. "You saved Grandpa Zi Tu's life," he finally said, his tone softening. "If you need help, the least we can do is offer it. I'll take you to her."As he led the way through the quiet village, I allowed myself a small moment of reflection. A cursed child, a sect capable of invoking such fear, and humans with abilities akin to legends... This world is far more complex than I initially thought.However, after I saw this Planet from space, and my body was reconstructed before my very own eyes, nothing should surprise me anymore.But complexity was good. Complexity meant opportunities—for knowledge and growth, growth I could hope to undertake in this world.▬▬ι═══════ﺤShen Yi led me through the winding paths of the village, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and faint wood smoke. The villagers moved about quietly, their eyes darting toward us with a mix of curiosity and unease.We stopped before a small, weathered hut that seemed even older than the rest of the village. The wooden planks of its walls were warped and cracked, and its thatched roof sagged slightly in the middle. A faint trail of incense smoke wafted out from the open doorway, mingling with the mist that clung to the air."Grandmother Qiao lives here," Shen Yi said, his voice hushed. "She's the oldest person in the village, and some say she's even older than the village itself."I raised an eyebrow but chose to remain silent. It was likely an exaggeration, though the reverence in Shen Yi's tone hinted that she was indeed a figure of importance. Given everything I'd encountered so far—mentions of Immortals and other otherworldly phenomena—it wasn't entirely unexpected. In fact, in a world like this, such figures were almost inevitable.He stepped forward and called softly, "Grandmother Qiao, it's Shen Yi. We have a visitor who wishes to speak with you."A few moments of silence passed before a voice, thin but steady, replied from within. "Come in."Shen Yi gestured for me to follow, and we entered the dimly lit hut. The interior was sparse but orderly. Shelves lined the walls, crammed with jars of dried herbs, small bundles of roots, and a few scrolls that had yellowed with age. A faint golden light flickered from a single oil lamp placed on a low table in the center of the room.Sitting cross-legged on a woven mat was an elderly woman with a face deeply etched by time. Her eyes, though clouded with age, seemed to see more than they should. She wore a simple dark robe, and her hands rested lightly on her lap, gnarled and thin like the roots of an ancient tree.Her gaze shifted to me, piercing despite its haze. "You are the one who saved Zi Tu," she said, her voice calm but laced with an almost imperceptible curiosity. It wasn't a question but a statement.I inclined my head slightly. "I am."She gestured for me to sit across from her. Shen Yi hesitated at the entrance before excusing himself. "I'll leave you to speak," he said, stepping out outside.I lowered myself onto the mat, meeting the old woman's gaze without flinching.The elder woman studied me for a long moment before speaking. "You are not from here."I tilted my head slightly but didn't deny it. "What gave it away?"Her lips curved into a faint smile, revealing teeth that were surprisingly intact. "Your demeanor. Your bearing. And... something about you. It is as if the air around you is still learning how to move."She leaned forward slightly. "What do you seek, stranger?""Knowledge," I replied without hesitation. "I need to understand this world—the rules it operates by, the powers it holds. Maps, information about the surrounding lands, anything you can provide."Her expression didn't change, but I caught a flicker of something in her eyes. "Knowledge is a precious thing, especially here in the shadow of the Nocturnis Vale. And it is not freely given."I had expected as much. "I'm willing to trade."She raised an eyebrow. "And what do you to offer, boy?"I considered her question carefully. I had no resources or valuables from this world, but knowledge from another might be worth something. "I may have insights or methods that could prove useful," I said. "In return, I ask only for a better understanding of where I am and what I may face."Her eyes narrowed slightly, the weight of her scrutiny pressing against me. "You speak as one who knows the value of words," she said after a pause. "Very well. I will share what I can. But you must also share something in return—knowledge for knowledge."I nodded, and she reached behind her, pulling out a scroll from a small stack. It was worn but intact, its edges frayed with age. "This is a map of the immediate area," she said, unrolling it carefully. "It is not precise, but it will give you an idea of what lies beyond this village."I leaned forward, studying the faded markings. The village was marked near the center, surrounded by the misty expanse of the Nocturnis Vale. To the south, there were symbols denoting dense forests, while to the north, the cliffs rose sharply, cutting off the valley. Further east, there were scattered notations of settlements and landmarks, some with ominous symbols that suggested danger.As I absorbed the details, she continued speaking. "This valley is a place of shadows, both literal and metaphorical. The Nocturnis Vale is not just a land of mist and cliffs; it is a place where the barriers between the tangible and the intangible grow thin. The Shadowthorn Covenant Sect claims dominion here, but even they do not venture far beyond their boundaries."She tapped the map with a bony finger. "Be wary of the east. That is where the Shadowthorn Covenant Sect holds its stronghold. And if you value your life, do not venture deeper into the Nocturnis Vale without preparation. There are things there that do not belong to the realm of the living."I looked up from the map. "What of the Immortals?"Her expression darkened slightly. "Immortals... That is what we call them. Those who have transcended the limits of ordinary existence. The Shadowthorn Covenant Sect's disciples aspire to such power, but they are far from it. If you encounter one, tread carefully. They do not see the world as we do."Her words lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. I sat back, processing the information. "Thank you," I said finally. "You've given me more than I expected."She studied me for a moment longer before nodding. "And now, your part of the trade."I reached into the depths of my memory, pulling a fragment of knowledge that might be valuable in this world. "About the herbs used to treat wounds," I said. "If prepared differently—boiled first, then ground into a paste—they can be more effective in drawing out impurities and speeding recovery."Her gaze sharpened, and I saw a flicker of intrigue. "Interesting... Show me."I demonstrated the method as clearly as I could, explaining each step with precision. She watched intently, her hands moving to mimic the process even as I described it.When I finished, she leaned back, her expression thoughtful. "You are not what you seem," she said quietly. "A wanderer, yes, but one who carries secrets."I didn't respond, letting the silence speak for itself. Secrets were something I intended to keep—for now....As I was about to leave, the old woman raised a hand, her voice halting my steps."One last thing," she said, her tone measured. "If you truly wish to learn about this world, I would suggest staying in this village for the next two months."I turned back, curious. "Why two months?"Her clouded eyes seemed to pierce through me, an intensity lingering behind them. "In two months, a recruiter from the Nightshade Monastery will pass through this area. They are the overlords of this entire region, the power that looms over all who live here. In comparison to them, the Shadowthorn Covenant Sect is as significant as a fly in comparison to a raging fire. "I crossed my arms, leaning slightly against the doorway. "And why are you telling me this?"A faint smile played on her lips as if she found my question amusing. "Because the Nightshade Monastery is unlike other sects. Unlike the Shadowthorn Covenant Sect, where you must approach and beg for admission, the Nightshade Monastery actively recruits. They traverse the villages, cities, and remote settlements of this land, seeking potential students."I frowned slightly. "Recruiting? What are their criteria?"Her smile faded, replaced by a solemn expression. "They are selective, exceedingly so. Their recruiters look for individuals with potential—those who may spark their interest. Talent, intelligence, strength, or even a unique quality of the soul... Only a few are ever chosen.""And this is not all," she continued. "Even after being picked, they hold rigorous tests designed to measure different qualities."The weight of her words settled in the air between us. I considered what she was implying. If this monastery was as influential as she claimed, gaining their favor could be a gateway to the knowledge and power I sought. But it also meant subjecting myself to their scrutiny—something I was reluctant to do unless necessary."And what happens to those who are recruited?" I asked, my tone even."They are given a rare opportunity," she replied. "To study under the guidance of masters, to grow stronger, and to rise above the mundane struggles of this world. But it is no easy path. The Nightshade Monastery's training is as harsh as it is rewarding. Many do not survive it."The word 'opportunity' lingered in my mind. This world was vast and filled with unknowns, and while I had no intention of blindly aligning myself with any group, infiltrating such an institution could provide invaluable insights into the rules and powers that governed this realm."Two months," I said finally. "And if they don't find me worthy?"The old woman chuckled softly, a dry sound like leaves rustling in the wind. "Then they will leave, and you will be free to go about your life. But if they do..." Her eyes glinted with something unreadable. "Your journey may take you to places beyond anything you can imagine."I held her gaze for a moment longer, then nodded. "I'll consider it."She gave no reply, merely inclining her head as I turned and stepped out into the misty air. The weight of her advice hung heavily on my mind as I walked back toward the center of the village.Two months. Whether I stayed or left, the Nightshade Monastery would come, bringing with it an opportunity—or perhaps a challenge. Either way, it was a thread worth following. For now, I would remain in the village, observing, preparing, and learning what I could.The older woman reminded me of someone—the old clairvoyant, Ibuki and I visited in the Keyaki Mall during the summer break of our first year at Advanced Nurturing High School. It was a fleeting memory, but vivid. That woman had spoken with a similar air of mystery, weaving her predictions with half-truths and riddles.The clairvoyant at Keyaki Mall had been a performer, an entertainer preying on the gullible. But the elder here—her wisdom felt rooted in something real, something tied to this world's intricate balance of power and survival.The two women, separated by worlds, shared a thread of similarity that I couldn't ignore. Both had seen something in me, something they chose not to reveal outright. And while their methods differed, the effect was the same: they left me questioning my next steps.Shaking my head, I pushed the thought aside. This world was far from the structured halls of ANHS. Here, survival demanded pragmatism, not idle speculation.▬▬ι═══════ﺤArriving at the center of the village, I noticed a subtle change in the atmosphere. The villagers moved with less urgency than earlier, their cautious glances now mixed with faint curiosity as they stole glimpses of me. Near the makeshift tent where Zi Tu had been treated, the old man stood upright, leaning slightly on a wooden staff for support. Despite his frail frame, he carried an air of determination.Zi Tu greeted me with a warm smile. "It seems I owe you more than just my life, boy. The healer says I'll recover, but it's thanks to you that I'm even standing here."I inclined my head slightly, acknowledging his words without unnecessary fanfare. "You should still rest, Zi Tu. Standing like this might slow your recovery."He chuckled lightly, a hoarse sound that carried both gratitude and stubbornness. "Don't fuss, child. I've endured worse in my years. Now, come with me. I'll take you to my home. You've done enough for me; the least I can do is offer you shelter."His resolve in that matter seemed unshakable. With a nod, I followed him through the village....As we walked, the old man spoke, his voice carrying the cadence of someone who had lived through more hardships than he cared to recount. "You've stirred up quite the talk here. A stranger appearing from the mist, saving an old fool like me. It's not every day we see someone like you.""Someone like me?" I asked, curious about his perception.He glanced back, his eyes glinting with quiet amusement. "Young but composed, resourceful but quiet. You don't belong to a place like this, boy. You're... different."I didn't respond, my expression remaining neutral as I again observed my surroundings.Finally, we arrived at Zi Tu's home. It was a modest structure, slightly larger than the others but still simple. The walls were weathered, showing signs of age, but the house radiated a sense of stability—a reflection of its owner.Zi Tu gestured for me to enter, and I stepped inside. The interior was sparsely furnished yet functional.He turned on a small hearth; it crackled faintly, its warmth seeping into the otherwise cold air."You'll stay here," Zi Tu said, motioning to a small corner of the room where a simple sleeping mat lay rolled up. "It's not much, but it's better than the open air."I nodded in thanks. "This is more than enough."...Shortly after settling in, a young woman from the village arrived carrying a bundle of folded clothes. She hesitated at the doorway, her gaze flickering nervously between Zi Tu and me before she spoke. "Grandpa Zi Tu, these are for the... guest."Zi Tu waved her in. "Don't stand there like a frightened deer. Come in, child."She stepped forward, her movements careful, and handed the bundle to me. "These belonged to my younger brother. He... left for the city a year ago. They should fit you."I accepted the clothes with a polite nod. "Thank you."The bundle contained a simple tunic and trousers, made of rough but sturdy fabric, along with a pair of worn boots. The garments, though plain, were a vast improvement over the makeshift coverings I had fashioned earlier."Try them on," Zi Tu urged, his tone light but insistent. "Can't have you walking around looking like a cave dweller forever."I stepped aside to change, the woman leaving discreetly as I did. The fabric felt coarse against my skin but warm, a welcome change from the cold air. When I emerged, Zi Tu appraised me with a satisfied nod."Much better. Now you look like you belong—at least a little," he said, a teasing glint in his eyes.I adjusted the sleeves of the tunic, glancing at him. "Thank you. But I doubt changing clothes will make me any less of an outsider here."Zi Tu's smile faded slightly, replaced by a more somber expression. "Perhaps not. But sometimes, appearances matter more than you think, especially when dealing with the likes of the Shadowthron Covenant Sect. They won't take kindly to strangers stirring up their territory."His words carried a weight, and I tucked the warning away in my mind. "I'll keep that in mind."...The rest of the evening passed quietly. Zi Tu showed me around his home, pointing out the tools he used in his trade as a forager. He spoke of his late wife, his ill son, and the struggles of living under the Shadowthron Covenant Sect's oppressive rule. His voice carried a mixture of price and weariness, a man who had endured much but still found reasons to keep going.As night fell, I found myself sitting by the hearth, the flickering flames casting shadows across the room. Zi Tu sat across from me, his gaze distant but thoughtful."You've been a blessing to this village, child," he said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence. "I don't know what brought you here, but I feel... fortunate that it did."I met his gaze, my expression unreadable. "I'm just doing what's necessary to survive."He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Maybe so. But sometimes, survival brings people together for reasons we don't yet understand."His words lingered, hanging in the still air. Zi Tu's gaze faltered briefly, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. Yet, there was a determination in his eyes, as though the weight of what he was about to ask was both burdensome and inescapable."Bái Xūé," he finally said, his voice quieter now, almost tentative.I glanced up from the flickering flames of the hearth, meeting his eyes. "Yes?"Zi Tu hesitated again, his gnarled hands tightening around the staff that rested across his lap. He took a slow breath, his chest rising and falling with effort. Then, as though steeling himself for the request, he pressed on."I know..." He paused, the lines on his face deepening. "I know you've already done so much for me—more than I could ever repay—but..." His voice cracked slightly, the emotion beneath it threatening to spill over. "Could you... Could you treat my son? I saw how adept you were in treating me. The way you worked... It wasn't just luck, was it? You knew exactly what to do."The vulnerability in his tone struck an unusual chord within me. It wasn't something I often encountered—or allowed myself to feel. My first instinct was to refuse. Not out of cruelty or indifference, but because this world was still so alien to me. I had no guarantee that my knowledge, rooted in another reality, would work here.Yet, there was something in Zi Tu's expression that gave me pause. His eyes, clouded with exhaustion yet burning with hope, reminded me faintly of faces from my past. Faces of people who, despite my detached demeanor, had looked to me for help. That memory lingered, unbidden but persistent."What's wrong with him?" I asked after a moment, my tone calm. I knew that his son didn't just suffer from an illness but seemed to be 'cursed'.Zi Tu's shoulders sagged slightly, as though relieved that I hadn't outright dismissed him. "He's ill. It started several months ago after an incident with one of the Shadowthorn Covenant Sect's disciples. They call it a curse, but the healer here thinks it's something worse. He says it's spreading through his body like poison."My gaze narrowed slightly. From what I'd observed so far, this world's concept of illness seemed to intertwine with its mystical elements. If this 'curse' was real, it could be something completely beyond my understanding—or it could be an ailment misunderstood by their limited knowledge."Where is he now?" I asked, leaning back slightly against the wall.Zi Tu gestured toward one of the doors—the one room he didn't show me when showcasing his house. "He's inside, resting—or trying to. His condition has worsened over the last few days."Before I answered him, he motioned toward a weathered leather pouch resting against the wall. I retrieved it and opened it carefully. Inside was a bundle of dark leaves, their edges jagged and glistening faintly with a silver sheen. A faint, almost otherworldly scent wafted from the plant, reminiscent of damp earth and ozone."This is the plant; the reason you went to the Nocturnis Vale?" I asked, examining the plant closely. Before, I had only taken a short glance.Zi Tu nodded weakly. "The healer called it Moonshade Veinleaf. It's rare... growing only in the Nocturnis Vale. He told me it has properties that can counter the curse. But he... doesn't know how to prepare it. He tried using it in the past, and the results weren't... successful."The healer had seemed capable, even skilled in his way, but his understanding of medicine—or curses, for that matter—was limited by the world he knew. This wasn't necessarily his fault; after all, he lacked the knowledge or resources to explore possibilities beyond what tradition dictated."And you want me to prepare it?" I asked Zi Tu.He met my gaze, his expression a mixture of hope and uncertainty. "You saved me when others couldn't. You noticed what the healer missed in my treatment. I trust you."His admission carried a weight. This was no small task he was entrusting me with, and the implications of failure loomed large. Yet, his unwavering gaze, filled with desperation and quiet resolve, reminded me of the countless faces I had seen in the past—those who looked at me not because they wanted to, but because they had no other option."Very well," I said, taking the satchel with the plant. "I'll see what I can do, but before that, let me see your son to assess his condition."...Zi Tu nodded, his relief almost palpable. Slowly, he stood and motioned toward the closed door with a shaky hand. "He's in there," he said, his voice heavy with weariness.I moved toward the door, the satchel with the Moonshade Veinleaf secured under my arm. The wooden frame creaked faintly as I pushed it open, revealing a dimly lit room. A single lantern hung from a low beam, casting flickering light over the sparse interior.The man lay on a simple straw mat, his form gaunt and visibly weakened. His chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths, and dark veins snaked across his pale skin, originating from his neck and spreading down to his arms. His face was lined with discomfort, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. The curse—or whatever ailment afflicted him—was visibly taking its toll.Kneeling beside him, I observed the pattern of the dark veins. They pulsed faintly, almost as if alive, radiating an ominous energy that filled the room with a suffocating weight. The man stirred slightly, his gaze flickering toward me, though his expression remained unfocused."Shen..." he murmured weakly, his voice barely audible. "Father...?""It's me, my son," Zi Tu said from the doorway, his voice trembling with emotion. "This young man is here to help you."I placed a hand lightly on the man's wrist, feeling his pulse. It was erratic, weak, and irregular—a clear sign of his deteriorating condition. As I examined him further, I noticed subtle differences in the patterns of the veins, their spread seemingly more pronounced on one side of his body. This wasn't a typical illness.Turning back to Zi Tu, I spoke calmly. "The progression of this... curse is advanced. If the Moonshade Veinleaf can counter it, we need to act quickly. Every hour we delay, his chances diminish."Zi Tu's face tightened with worry. "Can it be prepared here? Do you need anything?"I opened the satchel again, took out the plant, and laid it on a small table nearby. The silvery sheen of its veins glimmered faintly in the dim light, and I examined its structure more closely. Its texture was delicate, and its faint scent hinted at volatile properties that could easily be neutralized if handled improperly."What did the healer try?" I asked.Zi Tu nodded. "He boiled it into a tonic, but it only made things worse. He believed it wasn't potent enough.""That's because boiling it destroys its active components," I explained."This plant isn't meant to be treated like a common herb. Its potency lies in the veins—those need to be preserved."Zi Tu's expression shifted from confusion to hope. "Then how will you prepare it?""Carefully," I replied. "The process requires precision. It's not a guarantee, but it's better than the method they used before."...I set to work immediately. Gathering what limited tools Zi Tu had in his home, I improvised a setup to extract the plant's essence. Using a flat stone as a grinding surface and a smaller stone to press the leaves, I crushed them gently, ensuring the silvery veins remained intact. A faint, luminescent liquid seeped from the leaves, pooling on the surface like drops of liquid moonlight.Zi Tu watched intently, his hands clasped tightly in front of him as though in prayer. "Will it be enough?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper."It'll have to be," I replied without looking up. "Once the extract is ready, we'll need to administer it in stages. His body won't handle a sudden infusion of such concentrated properties."As I worked, I continued to examine the man's condition. The dark veins seemed to pulse more strongly as the minutes passed, and I couldn't shake the feeling that this curse had an unnatural origin. The fact that it originated from a disciple of the Shadowthorn Covenant Sect hinted at a deeper layer of complexity.Once the extract was complete, I mixed it carefully with cool water to create a diluted suspension. "This is the first dose," I explained. "It should stabilize him and slow the progression. If it works, we can increase the concentration gradually."Zi Tu knelt beside his son, his hands trembling as he stroked the man's arm. "Will it hurt him?""No," I assured him. "But it's not going to be instant. You'll need patience."...Together, we carefully administered the suspension, tilting the man's head slightly and allowing the liquid to trickle down his throat. He coughed faintly, his body twitching as the liquid settled within him. For a moment, I thought there might be an adverse reaction, but his breathing began to steady. The dark veins pulsing across his body seemed to dim slightly, their ominous energy receding.Zi Tu's face lit with cautious hope. "It's working...""For now," I said, standing and setting the tools aside. "But this is just the first step. If we're going to counter this fully, we'll need to monitor his condition closely. The curse—or whatever this is—won't go down without a fight."Zi Tu nodded, his expression resolute. "I'll do whatever it takes. Just tell me what you need.""I'll need time," I replied. "And if you have any information about what happened when he encountered that disciple, I'll need to know every detail."Zi Tu hesitated for a moment before speaking. "It was... an argument. My son stood up for a friend who couldn't pay the tribute the sect demanded. The disciple called it defiance and used some kind of technique to punish him. Afterward, these... veins started to appear."I processed his words silently, piecing together the implications. The Shadowthorn Covenant Sect wasn't just collecting tribute—they were enforcing their authority with powers that could devastate lives. If their techniques extended into curses like this, their reach was far more insidious than I initially thought."Rest now," I said, gesturing toward the man. "We'll continue in the morning."Zi Tu nodded, his gratitude evident in his tired eyes. As I stepped away, the weight of the situation settled over me. The man's condition was a symptom of something much larger—a system of oppression that loomed over this village like a storm cloud....I moved to the mattress in the corner of the room, its simple frame offering little comfort but serving its purpose. As I lay down, the weight of the day settled over me. After more than a week of surviving on my own—navigating through harsh terrain, hunting for food, and crafting crude shelters—I had finally reconnected with humanity, however unfamiliar this new world was.Today marked a turning point. I had saved Zi Tu, brought him back to his village, and treated his injuries. I'd spoken with an elder, the old woman the villagers called 'Grandma Qiao', and gleamed vital information about this world. Through her, I learned about the recruiter from the Nightshade Monastery, an opportunity arriving in two months that could significantly shape my future here.For now, I had a roof over my head and a purpose: treating Zi Tu's son, a man afflicted by what seemed to be a curse—a strange technique inflicted upon him by a discipline of the Shadowthorn Covenant Sect. It was a condition unlike anything I'd encountered before, but I saw it as an opportunity to deepen my understanding of this world and its peculiar blend of medicine and mysticism.Two months. That's how much time I had to prepare.The reality of this world was clear to me now—strength ruled. Without the ability to protect myself, I would remain at the mercy of others. If I hadn't been able to fend off those bandits, I would have been captured and sold to the Shadowthorn Covenant Sect. I didn't need to imagine what kind of fate awaited me there. It was enough to know that I would do whatever it took to ensure I never faced such a scenario.I decided to dedicate the coming weeks to training my body, just as I had in the White Room. Strength wasn't optional here, like in ANHS; it was a necessity. My survival instincts would be honed further, and every hour spent preparing would increase my chances of controlling my own fate.The task of treating Zi Tu's son also offered a unique opportunity. Through the process, I could explore and experiment with local herbs and remedies, developing my skills in this world's form of medicine. It wasn't just about curing the man—it was a chance to expand my knowledge, to learn and adapt. My survival could one day depend on such skills if I found myself injured or weakened.With those plans set, I felt a sense of clarity about how I would spend these two months. The recruiter from the Nightshade Monastery might provide an opportunity, but I would ensure I was ready, regardless of whether they deemed me worthy of their attention.With that, my mind settled, and I closed my eyes. The road ahead was uncertain, but for the first time since my arrival, it felt like I had a purpose and a clear direction.As the clarity set in, I became acutely aware of one pressing issue I had overlooked in the haze of theories and plans.I reek... I haven't taken a bath for almost 2 weeks now...Tomorrow I will need to take one. Definitely.▬▬ι═══════ﺤThe first month in the village passed in a blur, each day blending into the next as I settled into a rhythm. My mornings were spent tending to Zi Tu's son, methodically treating his mysterious curse with the Moonshade Veinleaf and whatever limited resources the village could offer. My afternoons were dedicated to my own training.Working out here felt different—almost otherworldly. My body adapted and strengthened far faster than it ever did on Earth. I could feel it with every push-up, every kick, and every lunge: a faint energy, like an invisible current, seemed to flow through me, amplifying my efforts.It was a peculiar sensation, one that intrigued me. Despite the subpar nutrition compared to what I had in the White Room, my body had already surpassed its peak state from back then. At 13, here, I was stronger, faster, and more resilient than I ever was at 14, the age when I left the White Room. My slim, athletic frame remained similar, but my muscles were more defined, larger, and carried a quiet strength that felt almost unnatural.By evening, I would return to the village, a routine now familiar to the villagers. Over time, I had integrated seamlessly into their lives. Unlike ANHS, where I had deliberately kept my presence faint and unassuming, here I was different. My actions made me impossible to ignore. Word spread about my capabilities—the way I saved Zi Tu, treated his wounds, and how I trained tirelessly. Admiration began to replace the initial wariness.Among those who had come to trust me was the village healer, who introduced himself as Cai Genxin. Over the course of the month, I shared with him a few techniques—not groundbreaking, but practical methods that noticeably improved his approach to treatment. Slowly but surely, he began to acknowledge my abilities, his initial skepticism giving way to genuine respect.By the end of the month, his demeanor toward me had softened considerably. He even began treating me with familial warmth, referring to me as though I were his younger brother. It was an odd but not unwelcome shift.Aside from him, Zi Tu introduced me to the village blacksmith, a burly man named Hu Xia. With his calloused hands, sharp tongue, and gruff exterior, he exuded toughness, but beneath it all was a kind heart. As a gesture of gratitude, Zi Tu presented me with a sword crafted by Hu Xia—a Tang Dao, its blade a testament to the blacksmith's skill and dedication.The Tang Dao. It is a single-edged sword that originated during China's Tang Dynasty, a period renowned for its military prowess and cultural achievements. Named after its era of origin, the Tang Dao represents a pivotal evolution in Chinese weaponry, merging practicality with martial artistry.This sword's design proved so effective that it gradually supplanted the previously dominant jian, a double-edged straight sword, as the primary weapon in many military applications. With its sharp single edge, slightly curved blade, and solid construction, the Tang Dao excelled in both slashing and thrusting maneuvers, making it highly versatile on the battlefield.The design of the Tang Dao became a cornerstone for single-edged swordcraft, influencing the development of similar blades across East Asia, including the katana in Japan and the goryeo hwandudaedo in Korea. Its efficient structure and ease of use allowed soldiers to wield it effectively in close combat and mounted warfare alike, cementing its place as a revolutionary advancement in ancient armaments.When I held the sword for the first time, it felt right. Its weight, its balance, the way the hilt fit perfectly in my grip—it was as if the weapon had been made for me. Memories of theoretical swordsmanship lessons from the White Room surfaced unbidden. Though my experience with a sword had been limited to a few sparring sessions, the knowledge I had absorbed was meticulous and precise.Swordsmanship was a discipline that demanded more than just strength. It was about precision, strategy, and understanding the weapon as an extension of one's body. The basics echoed in my mind: footwork, grip, offensive and defensive techniques, timing, distance, strategy, and psychology....With the Tang Dao in hand, I made my way to a familiar spot outside the village—a flat expanse surrounded by skeletal trees, a place I had claimed for my daily training. The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the ground.I started with the fundamentals, gripping the hilt firmly in my right hand. My stance shifted instinctively, feet spaced to allow balance and fluid movement. I visualized an opponent before me, their strikes and counters forcing me to adapt.Footwork came first. I practiced pivots, sidesteps, and lunges, maintaining control of my body while adjusting to the Tang Dao's reach. Each movement was precise and deliberate. I had to ensure that every step brought me closer to an advantage while minimizing my exposure to an imaginary counterattack.Next came offensive techniques. I slashed through the air, testing the blade's response. Horizontal, vertical, and diagonal cuts flowed seamlessly into thrusts and feints. I imagined exploiting an enemy's opening, delivering swift and decisive strikes with minimal wasted motion.Moving on to defensive techniques, I practiced evasion, blocks, and parries. The Tang Dao's weight allowed for smooth deflections, turning an opponent's momentum against them. Each imagined attack was met with a combination of movements, layering defense with counter-offense.Timing and distance, though intangible, were deeply ingrained. I closed my eyes, letting instinct guide me. With each swing, I felt the blade's reach, knowing exactly where its edge would land. It was as if the sword had become an extension of my arm, its movements flowing naturally from my intent.Finally, I focused on the mental aspect of swordsmanship. Strategy, adaptability, and reading an opponent's intent were all critical. Though I trained alone, I simulated scenarios in my mind—facing multiple attackers, responding to feints, countering unpredictable strikes.For over an hour, I repeated these drills, pushing myself to refine each technique. The Tang Dao moved through the air with increasing precision, the whistle of its blade echoing across the training ground. Sweat dripped down my brow, but fatigue was fleeting. This world's strange energy seemed to restore me as quickly as I expended my strength....Once my sword training was complete, I transitioned into physical conditioning and martial arts. My body moved with a fluidity that surprised even me; each strike was faster and more powerful than the last. The training I had endured in the White Room remained intact, but here, it was elevated. My improved physicality allowed me to execute techniques with a force that surpassed my previous limits.Punches cracked through the air with precision, kicks landed with devastating power, and grappling maneuvers flowed seamlessly into counters. The terrain beneath my feet bore the marks of my exertion—disturbed earth, scuffed stones, and faint impressions where I had pivoted or struck....As the sun dipped below the horizon, streaks of orange and purple painted the darkening sky, casting long shadows across the valley. I finally halted my training, my muscles aching with the familiar, satisfying burn that signaled progress. Wiping the faint sheen of sweat from my brow, I began my walk back to the village, the Tang Dao strapped securely to my side.As I neared the outskirts, something felt off. The air was tense, the usual quiet hum of village life replaced by an uneasy silence. The faint glow of lanterns flickered against the encroaching darkness, casting eerie silhouettes of villagers gathered in the square. Their postures were rigid, their heads slightly bowed, as though in submission.Curiosity and caution surged within me. I moved closer, my steps deliberate and silent, until I could make out a figure standing before the assembled villagers. A young man, draped in flowing crimson robes that seemed to shimmer faintly in the dim light, stood with his hands clasped behind his back. His expression was one of smug detachment, his sharp features twisted in a faint sneer. The villagers kept their distance, their gazes averted, and their fear was palpable.His aura was different from anything I had encountered so far—imposing and heavy, as though the air itself bent to his presence. Even from this distance, I could feel it pressing against my senses, a stark reminder that this was no ordinary man.Instinctively, I slowed my approach, blending into the shadows as I circled the square. My movements were silent, calculated, as I took cover behind one of the houses at the edge of the square. From my concealed vantage point, I observed the scene unfold."Is this all your pathetic village can offer?" the man in crimson robes said, his voice calm but laced with disdain. He gestured dismissively toward a small pile of goods—sacks of grain, bundles of herbs, and crude tools—set at his feet. "This barely qualifies as tribute. The Shadowthorn Covenant Sect is not a charity."Shen Yi, standing near the front of the group, stepped forward hesitantly, his expression a mixture of defiance and fear. "Honored sir, this is all we can spare. The harvest was poor this season, and the mist has made foraging difficult."The man's eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a smirk. "Excuses," he said, his tone icy. "Do you think the sect cares for your petty struggles? You exist under our protection, and protection demands payment. If this is all you can muster, perhaps we should reconsider our arrangement."A murmur rippled through the gathered villagers, their fear mounting. Shen Yi clenched his fists, his jaw tightening, but he remained silent. The crimson-robed man took a step forward, his aura intensifying, forcing some of the villagers to instinctively step back.From my hidden position, I analyzed the situation. This man was clearly a cultivator, a so-called Immortal, and from the way he carried himself, he seemed confident in his authority and strength. His robes marked him as a disciple of the Shadowthorn Covenant Sect, which explained the fear he inspired. This wasn't just an individual's arrogance—it was the weight of an entire sect backing his actions.So this is a Cultivator, huh?Zi Tu stood near the back of the crowd, his face pale and tense. He had told me about the sect's oppressive rule, but seeing it in action was another matter entirely. His hands trembled as he gripped his staff, his gaze flicking nervously between the disciple and the villagers."You there," the disciple said suddenly, pointing toward a young boy standing near his mother. The boy flinched, clutching at his mother's skirt, while she instinctively pulled him closer."Perhaps we'll take something more valuable than grain this time," the disciple said, his smirk widening. "A little hard labor in the sect's mines might teach your village the value of proper tribute."The boy's mother gasped, shaking her head vehemently. "Please, no! He's just a child!"The disciple tilted his head mockingly. "A child, yes, but one who can grow into a useful tool. Better to serve the sect than waste away in this pitiful village."The mother's pleading voice cracked with desperation, her arms wrapping protectively around her child. The tension in the square was thick, pressing against everyone like a suffocating fog. The disciple's smirk deepened as he took a deliberate step forward, his crimson robes flowing with an almost theatrical elegance.I remained in the shadows, my breath steady as I watched the scene unfold. The Tang Dao at my side felt cool against my leg, but my grip didn't move toward it. The situation was volatile, and I understood the balance of power all too well. This wasn't my fight. Not yet.The disciple crouched slightly, lowering himself to eye level with the boy. His predatory grin revealed a hint of malice. "Don't worry," he said softly, though his voice carried an edge that cut deeper than his words. "The mines will teach you discipline. It's better than growing up in a village that can't even provide for itself."The boy whimpered, his small frame trembling as he clung to his mother. The villagers watched helplessly, their fear chaining them in place. Shen Yi stepped forward again, his voice unsteady but filled with defiance. "This... this isn't right! You've taken more than enough from us! Leave the boy alone!"The disciple straightened, his smile fading into a cold, menacing glare. The weight of his aura grew heavier, and Shen Yi stumbled slightly, beads of sweat forming on his brow as he struggled to stand his ground."Enough?" The disciple's voice was low, dangerous. "You think you're in a position to decide what's enough? Perhaps I should take you instead. The mines could always use another pair of hands."Shen Yi froze, his defiance crumbling as the disciple's words hung in the air like a blade poised to strike. The surrounding villagers averted their gazes, unwilling to meet the disciple's wrath.From my hidden vantage point, I analyzed every detail. The disciple's mannerisms, his aura, the villagers' reactions—all of it painted a clear picture of the dynamics at play. He was strong, at least in the context of this village, and he knew it. The sect's influence was absolute here, and any resistance would be crushed swiftly and without mercy.This was no different from the hierarchies I had observed in the White Room. Power dictated order, and fear enforced compliance. There was no room for sentimentality or misplaced ideals. Acting rashly here would only invite disaster. I had no intention of drawing unnecessary attention to myself or provoking a force I didn't fully understand.The disciple raised his hand, a faint glow emanating from his palm. The villagers recoiled, some shielding their faces as if expecting a blow. The air around him shimmered, a subtle display of power meant to remind them of their place."You should be grateful for the protection the sect provides," he said, his voice calm but laced with a dangerous edge. "Without us, you'd all be at the mercy of the beasts and rogues that lurk beyond your pitiful borders."His gaze swept across the crowd, his smirk returning as he basked in their fear. "But I'm feeling generous today," he continued, lowering his hand. "The boy stays—for now. Consider this your only warning. Next time, the sect won't be so forgiving."The tension in the square eased slightly, though the fear remained palpable. The disciple turned sharply on his heel, his robes swirling around him as he began to walk away. The villagers parted silently, their heads bowed as he passed. No one dared to speak, let alone move.From my position, I observed his every step, noting the way his aura receded gradually, like a storm retreating but leaving destruction in its wake. The villagers' relief was visible, though it was tinged with lingering dread. This wasn't the end of their troubles—only a temporary reprieve.I stayed hidden until the disciple disappeared into the misty edges of the village, his form swallowed by the shadows. Only then did I step back from my vantage point, my mind racing with the implications of what I had just witnessed.The disciple had revealed much, even in his arrogance. The Shadowthorn Covenant Sect's control over the region was absolute, their demands enforced with calculated cruelty. But more importantly, I had seen a glimpse of the power that cultivators wielded in this world. It wasn't just physical strength or martial skill—it was something far more profound, something that could shape the very fabric of reality.So this is what it means to be a cultivator, I thought, my gaze shifting toward the villagers, who were beginning to disperse.For now, I would remain an observer. There was still too much I didn't know, and provoking the sect would only invite unnecessary risks. But the encounter had planted a seed—a desire to understand this world's power structure and the role cultivation played within it.As the square emptied, I turned away, my steps light and deliberate as I made my way back to Zi Tu's home. Tonight, I would reflect on what I had seen. And tomorrow, I would continue to gather information, piece by piece, until the path forward became clear.▬▬ι═══════ﺤThe morning sun filtered weakly through the mist, casting a pale glow over the village. I sat cross-legged on the floor of Zi Tu's home, surrounded by the remnants of my experiments—herbs, powders, and the faintly glistening Moonshade Veinleaf. For the past week, I had focused all my attention on deciphering the so-called curse that afflicted Zi Tu's son.This morning, I felt the pieces falling into place.Carefully, I crushed a portion of the Moonshade Veinleaf, its silvery sap pooling in a small wooden bowl. Mixing it with a few common herbs I had tested earlier, I created a paste that shimmered faintly. The energy it emitted was subtle but undeniable, like the hum of a wire pulled taut.This was it.I approached the man's bedside, his frail body lying still against the coarse blankets. His pale face and darkened veins painted a grim picture. I applied the paste to the inflamed area around his arm, watching intently. At first, there was no reaction, but then the dark veins pulsed faintly, their color receding slightly. The man's breathing, shallow and uneven moments ago, began to steady.A faint spark of satisfaction flickered in my mind. The mixture worked—partially.The door creaked open, and Zi Tu entered, his tired eyes widening as he saw the improvement. "Bái Xūé, is it...?""It's a start," I replied, my tone measured. "The paste is mitigating the symptoms, but it won't eliminate the curse entirely."Zi Tu's shoulders sagged with a mix of relief and worry. "What more can we do?"I glanced at the scattered herbs on the table. "The Moonshade Veinleaf is effective, but its properties need to be stabilized for a lasting effect. There's another plant—Frostshade Moss—that could enhance its potency. Fortunately, it's not rare. It grows near damp and shaded areas. There should be some by the stream outside the village."Relief washed over Zi Tu's face, but it was quickly replaced by concern. "You've already done so much. I can gather the moss."I shook my head. "No. You're in no condition to search for it. I'll retrieve it." The task was straightforward—no unnecessary risks, no unknown dangers. It was a calculated effort, one that would benefit me by honing my understanding of this world's plants while avoiding unnecessary entanglements.Zi Tu hesitated, clearly torn, but he eventually nodded. "Be careful, Bái Xūé. And thank you. I don't have words for how much this means."I didn't respond. Words of gratitude had little weight for me. I was here for practical reasons, and helping Zi Tu and his son align with my goals—for now....The stream lay just outside the village, its clear waters cutting through the dense mist like a silver thread. The sound of flowing water was soothing, almost meditative, as I scanned the shaded banks. It didn't take long to find the moss—its soft, bluish-green patches clung to the damp stones like a natural carpet.Kneeling, I carefully scraped several portions into a pouch. The faint chill that radiated from the moss hinted at its unique properties. It was a fascinating discovery; this world's flora seemed to possess qualities that went beyond Earth's understanding of botany.As I finished collecting the moss, I paused, my gaze drifting across the stream. The valley beyond stretched into the unknown, its shadows deep and inviting. Somewhere out there were answers—about this world, its rules, and the so-called Immortals who wielded power like an extension of themselves. For now, though, survival and preparation took precedence.As I was preparing to return my trip to the village, I felt two presences nearby.As I crouched by the stream, carefully securing the pouch of Frostshade Moss into my makeshift satchel, the faint rustle of movement reached my ears. Instantly, my senses sharpened. This wasn't the casual scurrying of wildlife or the gentle rustling of the wind through the skeletal trees—it was deliberate.Two presences.I straightened slowly, my hand instinctively brushing the hilt of the Tang Dao strapped to my side. My eyes scanned the misty surroundings, honing in on faint distortions in the fog. Two figures emerged, their forms becoming clearer as they approached.The first was unmistakable—Fang, the burly bandit whose life I had spared during our previous encounter. His expression was a mix of anger and malice, his brutish features twisting into a sneer. But it was the man beside him who commanded my full attention.Tall and lean, the stranger radiated a presence that pressed against my senses. He wore dark robes with crimson patterns running along the seams, and his sharp features were set in an expression of faint disdain. There was an unnatural weight in the air around him, similar to what I had felt from the Shadowthorn Covenant Sect's disciple in the village a week ago.This man was no ordinary individual. Like the disciple, his very presence seemed to command the space around him, bending it to his will. A cultivator.Fang spat at the ground, his expression dark with fury. "You thought you could humiliate me and get away with it, kid? My uncle's here to settle the score."His uncle. That explained the oppressive aura. While I didn't know his name, the connection was clear. This was the Qi Condensation cultivator Fang had boasted about before—a man who clearly held power beyond what ordinary villagers could even comprehend."Your silence speaks volumes," the cultivator said, his voice smooth but laced with arrogance. "Perhaps you've realized the gravity of your situation."He took a step forward, his presence intensifying. The air felt heavier, the mist swirling faintly around him as though responding to his will. My grip tightened on the Tang Dao, but I remained outwardly calm."Tracking me down over hurt pride," I said flatly, my tone devoid of fear or mockery. "Seems a bit excessive, doesn't it?"Fang growled, his fists clenching. "Don't you dare talk back, Brat! My uncle's going to make you regret the day you crossed me!"The cultivator raised a hand, silencing Fang with a single gesture. "Enough," he said, his tone carrying quiet authority. He fixed his gaze on me, his eyes sharp and calculating. "You're bold; I'll grant you that. But arrogance is a poor shield against strength."He stepped forward, his hands clasped behind his back. His movements were measured, and deliberate, as though he already considered the matter resolved. I remained still, my mind racing as I analyzed the situation.This man's aura was leagues above Fang's brutish aggression. It wasn't just strength—it was control. The way the air seemed to ripple around him, the faint hum of energy in his presence, all pointed to the cultivation level Fang had mentioned before. Qi Condensation.This will be a difficult fight."I'll give you one chance," the cultivator continued, his voice calm but firm. "Surrender now, and I might make your death painless."I tilted my head slightly, as though considering his words. "Tempting," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "But I think I'll pass."Fang snarled, stepping forward with his axe raised. "Uncle, let me—""Silence," the cultivator said coldly, his voice cutting through the air. Fang froze in place, his fury giving way to reluctant obedience.The cultivator's gaze returned to me, his smirk widening. "So be it."Without warning, he thrust his palm forward, a wave of force rippling through the air. The mist parted as the attack raced toward me, scattering loose leaves and dust in its wake. I sidestepped swiftly, the force grazing past me and striking a nearby tree. The impact splintered the trunk with a deafening crack, sending pieces of wood flying.I didn't react outwardly, but my mind was sharp and calculating. His control over this energy was clear, but his attack lacked finesse—it was a show of power, meant to intimidate."You're quick," he said, his smirk returning. "But speed alone won't save you."He closed the distance in an instant, his movements fluid and precise. His fist glowed faintly with energy as it shot toward me. I twisted my body, narrowly avoiding the strike, and countered with a quick slash of the Tang Dao aimed at his midsection.The blade met resistance, his Qi forming an invisible barrier that deflected the attack. The force of the impact sent a jolt up my arm, but I used the momentum to pivot away, creating distance once more.The cultivator's smirk widened as his Qi surged around him, a palpable wave of energy distorting the air. He raised his glowing palm, his voice booming with anger."Force Palm!" he roared, thrusting his hand forward. The energy coalesced into a concentrated wave that hurled toward me, tearing through the mist like a tidal force.I sidestepped again, the attack grazing my shoulder and hitting a giant boulder behind me, destroying it in the process. My movements were fluid, but I didn't underestimate the raw force of the attack. If that had hit me directly, it would've shattered bones."You're faster than I expected," the cultivator snarled, his Qi flaring brighter. "Let's see how long you can keep running."Without giving me time to respond, he charged forward, his speed nearly doubling. The glowing palm of his right hand shimmered with energy as he lunged."Piercing Fang Thrust!" he shouted, the energy at his fingertips elongating into a sharp, spear-like projection.The thrust was fast—too fast to evade completely. I twisted my body, narrowly avoiding a fatal hit, but the energy tore through the fabric of my tunic and left a shallow cut across my ribs. The searing pain was immediate, but it didn't matter to me.My Tang Dao lashed out in a sharp arc aimed at his midsection.He deflected the blade with a Qi barrier, the impact sending a jolt up my arm. I used the momentum to pivot away, creating distance once more. Blood trickled down my side, but I ignored it, my mind entirely focused on analyzing his movements."You've got some skill with that blade," the cultivator admitted, his tone laced with grudging respect. "But skill alone won't save you. A mortal can't contend with the power of Qi."I remained silent, my expression unreadable as I adjusted my grip on the Tang Dao. His arrogance worked to my advantage; he saw me as an ant trying to bite a giant. That confidence would make him predictable.The cultivator attacked again, closing the distance in a flash. His palm glowed as he unleashed another Force Palm, this one with even greater intensity. I braced myself, diving to the side to evade it. The ground where I had stood erupted, dirt and debris flying into the air."Stop running, boy!" he barked, his frustration evident. "Face me properly if you dare!"I didn't rise to his taunts. Instead, I began maneuvering him subtly, step by step, toward the figure of Fang, who was still spectating the fight from afar. The cultivator was skilled, but his reliance on brute force and overwhelming presence left gaps in his awareness.He lunged at me again, his attacks coming faster now, his anger fueling his movements. Each thrust and palm strike was more aggressive than the last."Piercing Fang Thrust!" he shouted once more, the Qi spear slicing through the air.This time, I countered directly. My Tang Dao met the Qi spear head-on, deflecting it with a precise angle that sent the energy spiraling into the ground. The cultivator staggered slightly, his eyes narrowing as he reassessed me."How are you keeping up?" he demanded, his tone a mix of irritation and curiosity. "No mortal should be able to withstand this!"I didn't reply, my breathing steady despite the strain. He was powerful, yes, but not invincible. His attacks were predictable now, each one more reckless as his frustration mounted. I capitalized on his overconfidence, landing a series of strikes that chipped away at his defenses. Shallow cuts marred his arms and torso, though his Qi barrier absorbed the worst of the damage.Then he landed a hit.A powerful hit—though not a Force Palm—connected squarely with my chest, the impact like a sledgehammer driving into my ribs. Pain exploded through my body as I was hurled backward, crashing into a tree with enough force to shake its branches. Blood filled my mouth, and I coughed violently, the metallic taste sharp on my tongue.The cultivator sneered, confidence returning as he stalked toward me. "You should've surrendered," he said, his tone dripping with condescension. "This is the price of defiance."But he didn't seem to realize my true intent as I pushed myself to my feet. Pain radiated through my body, but it was just pain. I kept breathing steadily. This fight was going as planned, and he didn't seem to understand this.Every step, every dodge, and every counter had brought us closer to Fang. The trembling bandit was now directly behind me, his wide eyes darting between me and his uncle, who was now further away from me as his attack blasted me away.In a blur of motion, I closed the distance between myself and Fang. My hand shot out, grabbing the bandit by the throat and lifting him off the ground with ease.Fang's eyes bulged with terror, his hands clawing weakly at my grip. "W-wait! Don't—"The cultivator froze mid-attack, his eyes narrowing as he processed the scene. "What are you doing?" he demanded, his voice cold.I turned my gaze to him, my expression as calm and detached as ever. "Leverage," I said simply, tightening my grip on Fang's throat. The bandit let out a strangled gasp, his struggles growing weaker with every passing moment."Release him!" the cultivator barked, his Qi flaring dangerously. "Do you think this will save you?""No," I replied evenly, my voice devoid of any emotion. "But it'll slow you down."Before he could react, I released Fang—but not to spare him. I slammed him to the ground with brutal force, his body landing with a sickening thud. His panicked cries filled the clearing, his voice cracking with desperation."Uncle! Help me!" Fang wailed, tears streaming down his face as he clawed at the dirt. His entire body trembled, his earlier bravado replaced by unadulterated terror.The cultivator hesitated, his Qi flickering uncertainly. "Fang—"I didn't wait. In one fluid motion, I raised the Tang Dao high and brought it down with calculated precision, the blade piercing Fang's throat. The sharp steel drove cleanly through, severing his windpipe and arteries in a single, decisive strike.Fang's eyes widened in sheer horror, his hands instinctively clawing at the blade lodged in his neck. Blood spurted in rhythmic bursts, coating my hands and the hilt of the sword. He tried to scream, but only a wet, gurgling sound escaped as crimson bubbles formed at his lips. His body convulsed violently, his fingers grasping weakly at the air before falling limp.The clearing went silent, save for the faint, grotesque gurgles that emanated from Fang's throat as life drained from his body. His raised arm twitched once before collapsing to his side, the light in his eyes dimming until they stared lifelessly at the darkening sky. Blood pooled beneath him, staining the dirt a deep, foreboding red.The cultivator stood frozen, his face a mix of shock, disbelief, and fury. The bloodied Tang Dao gleamed in the faint light as I pulled it free, the wet squelch of the blade exiting the flesh echoing in the stillness. Droplets of blood spattered onto the ground, adding to the already growing pool."You—" the cultivator began, his voice trembling with barely contained rage. His Qi surged around him like a raging storm, distorting the air as he stepped forward.I turned to face him fully, my gaze cold. The blood on my hands and blade didn't bother me. Fang's lifeless body lay crumpled at my feet."You'll pay for this!" the cultivator roared, his voice shaking with fury.I didn't respond; my feelings didn't change one bit when I killed the burly bandit. I put my left hand on my chest, trying to feel my heartbeat. It hasn't changed one bit. It was the same as ever.His uncle, now in an emotional condition, can't control his anger. Anger, when controlled, can be a weapon, but here he let anger control him.This fight was over.The cultivator lashed out with a fierce palm strike, his Qi condensing into visible waves of force. "Force Palm!" he shouted, the attack aimed directly at my torso.I sidestepped smoothly, allowing the attack to pass harmlessly by, its energy dissipating into the empty air. The force shattered a tree behind me, the splintered wood scattering like shrapnel, but I didn't flinch."Stand still!" he snarled, his voice laced with desperation as he spun into a follow-up strike. His footwork was precise, but his movements were growing sloppy, driven by raw emotion rather than calculated intent.He thrust his palm again. "Force Palm!"Again, I evaded, my body moving with practiced efficiency. My focus never wavered, my every action deliberate. His attacks came one after another, each infused with a significant amount of Qi. Yet, none of them landed.His frustration mounted, and I could see it in his eyes. Anger was a weapon, but only when wielded with control. Here, it was a poison, clouding his judgment and driving him further into reckless expenditure of his strength.He roared, drawing back. With condensed Qi at his fingertips, he lunged forward. "Piercing Fang Thrust!" he cried, his voice echoing through the clearing.The attack was fast—faster than the others—but predictable. I brought up my Tang Dao, deflecting his spear-like projection. The force of the impact vibrated through my arm, but I maintained my composure, shifting my weight to counter his momentum."You can't keep dodging forever!" he hissed, his tone dripping with frustration. "Fight me!"I didn't respond. There was no need. My plan was simple: let him exhaust himself. Cultivators, no matter how powerful, couldn't maintain their Qi indefinitely. He might have an edge in raw strength and technique, but his emotional state made him predictable—a fatal flaw.The cultivator attacked relentlessly, each move more desperate than the last. He unleashed another Force Palm, the energy rippling toward me with destructive intent. I ducked low, the blast grazing past me and tearing through the ground. He followed up with a Piercing Fang Thrust, but I sidestepped, his attack missing me."You're toying with me!" he shouted, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The strain was evident in the way his movements slowed, his once-fluid attacks becoming sluggish and uneven. Sweat dripped from his brow, and the glow of his Qi dimmed with each passing second.I pressed my advantage, feinting toward him to keep him on the defensive. He swung his fists wildly, as I stepped just out of range—there was no point in deflecting those if I could just exhaust him. Every missed attack only drained him further, both physically and mentally."How... how are you still standing?" he panted, his chest heaving. His aura wavered, the once-overwhelming presence now a mere shadow of its former intensity.I met his gaze, my own expression calm and cold, waiting for him to attack again.At my lack of response, the cultivator's face twisted in rage.He lunged again, his movements erratic, his attacks lacking the precision they once had. I evaded effortlessly, my own energy conserved, my body moving as if in a dance. Each step I took brought us closer to where I wanted him—closer to his nephew's bloodied body.Finally, he overextended, his strike leaving him open. I seized the opportunity, closing the distance and grabbing his arm, twisting it with calculated force. He cried out in pain, staggering backward.Before he could recover, I delivered a sharp kick to his chest, sending him sprawling to the ground.The cultivator lay sprawled on the ground, his chest heaving and his robes stained with dirt and sweat. His hand trembled as he raised it, the faint glow of Qi beginning to coalesce around his fist. "Force Palm!" he growled, desperation lacing his voice.But the light flickered and died. His Qi dissipated like smoke on the wind, leaving only his clenched fist trembling in futility. His eyes widened in horror as he looked at his hand, realization dawning on him."You... you drained me," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.I stepped forward, my Tang Dao held loosely at my side. My gaze remained fixed on him, unreadable and cold. His breathing grew ragged as I drew closer, his expression shifting from anger to panic."Stay back!" he barked, his voice cracking. "I'm warning you! You don't know who I am! My sect will hunt you down! You'll regret this!"I said nothing, my steps were measured and deliberate. The cultivator scrambled backward, his hands searching the ground for something—anything—to defend himself. He found a broken branch and held it out shakily as if the pitiful weapon could stop me."Think about what you're doing!" he continued, his tone now a mixture of anger and fear. "Killing me will bring the full wrath of my Sect down upon you! You can't outrun them! You'll die a thousand deaths for this!"I paused for a moment, studying him. His words were hollow, desperate attempts to regain control of a situation that had slipped entirely from his grasp."Please," he said, his voice softening as his bravado crumbled. "You don't have to do this. Let me go. I swear I won't come after you. I'll even tell the sect you're not worth their time. Just... just let me live."Still, I didn't respond. His pleas were as meaningless as his threats. My decision had already been made.The cultivator's breathing quickened, his eyes darting around as if searching for a way out. "I... I can give you resources! Information! Whatever you want! Just spare me!"I said nothing, my expression cold and unchanging. Without a word, I raised the Tang Dao. The blade gleamed faintly in the dim light, its edge catching the last remnants of the setting sun. The cultivator's eyes widened in terror.His trembling hand reached out weakly, a futile gesture. His panicked eyes locked onto mine, searching for some shred of mercy or hesitation. Instead, he found nothing. No anger. No satisfaction. No regret. Only a hollow void, an abyss that reflected back his fear.His lips quivered, and a faint whisper escaped them, barely audible. "Monster..."I didn't respond."No! Wait—" His plea was cut short as I brought the blade down in a single, precise motion. The sharp edge sliced cleanly through his throat, the force of the strike silencing him instantly.A gurgling sound escaped his lips as blood poured from the wound, staining the earth beneath him. His body twitched briefly before going still, his lifeless eyes staring blankly at the sky. A pool of crimson spread outward, its color stark against the muted tones of the forest floor.I stood over his body for a moment, the Tang Dao still in my hand. My expression remained impassive as I reached for a nearby leaf, using it to wipe the blade clean with a single, efficient motion. The blood smeared away easily, leaving the steel gleaming once more.With the immediate threat eliminated, I surveyed the scene. Two bodies, both reeking of failure and desperation, lay before me. Leaving them here would only attract unwanted attention. I couldn't afford that.I retrieved a small shovel from my satchel—a tool I carried for practical reasons—and began digging. The work was slow and methodical, but I didn't rush. Every movement was deliberate, every step part of a calculated process. The soft earth yielded easily, forming a shallow grave beneath the canopy of skeletal trees.Once the graves were ready, I dragged the bodies into the pits, their weight cumbersome but manageable. I laid them side by side, their faces obscured by shadows, and began covering them with dirt. The sound of soil falling onto flesh was oddly muted, swallowed by the oppressive stillness of the woods.When the task was complete, I stood back, surveying the unmarked graves. The ground was uneven, but it would suffice. No one would find them here—not unless they knew exactly where to look.I turned my attention to myself, noting the bloodstains on my clothes and the faint metallic scent clinging to my skin. A stream ran nearby, its waters clear and cold. I knelt by the edge, using the frigid water to wash away the evidence of the fight. The blood swirled and dissolved, carried away by the gentle current.Once I was clean, I stood and adjusted my satchel, the Frostshade Moss safely secured within. The Tang Dao rested at my side, its weight a familiar comfort.Without sparing another glance at the graves, I turned and began making my way back toward the village. The forest swallowed the site behind me, its silence undisturbed.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
As I replayed the events of the fight in my mind, I carefully noted a few critical observations.Cultivators were formidable-truly a league above anything I had encountered before. Even though this particular cultivator's presence felt weaker than that of the Shadowthorn Covenant Sect disciple I had seen earlier, his raw power far surpassed that of any enemy I had ever fought.His strikes, Force Palm and Piercing Fang Thrust, were no mere techniques; they were devastating displays of energy. If even one of those attacks had connected, the consequences could have been dire. Force Palm could have inflicted severe internal damage, and Piercing Fang Thrust-had it struck a vital area-would have ended my life instantly.This world is indeed a realm where strength dictates everything.Here, death can come for the strangest reasons, often dictated by the whims of the powerful. This encounter was a perfect example-a middle-aged man, a so-called "Immortal," attacking a mere child with the intent to kill, all to avenge the perceived humiliation of his brutish nephew. The irony was not lost on me; his arrogance led to his demise, while I-a supposed victim-walked away unscathed.In this rural area, there are no laws or systems of justice. The Shadowthorn Covenant Sect reigns supreme, oppressing the people without mercy. Life and death here are governed solely by power. Mortals are trampled underfoot, their lives deemed insignificant. No one would so much as blink at a handful of villagers disappearing, their fates sealed by the whims of those stronger than them.Having now faced a cultivator firsthand, I've realized the inevitable: if I am to navigate this world, I must walk the same path.Before, the idea of joining the Nightshade Monastery felt like a calculated decision, one fraught with potential risks. Their scrutiny, their rules, the looming shadow of a greater power-it all seemed like shackles on my autonomy. But this fight has shifted my perspective. Joining the Monastery isn't just an opportunity; it's a necessity. The loss of some freedom, if it even happens, is a price I am now willing to pay. Strength will be my path to true freedom-strength so absolute that no one would dare to obstruct my will.Becoming a cultivator is no longer just a consideration; it is a resolution. It will allow me to uncover the mysteries of this world and my presence in it.But before embarking on this path, I will settle the matters here in the village. It is not necessary, but I want to experience it-to know what it means to assist, to guide, and to leave something behind, however small.There is no doubt in my mind. My path is set, and I will walk it without hesitation. In the end, I will be the one to hold the reins of my own fate....When I arrived back in the village, the moon had already climbed high into the darkened sky, its pale light casting long, eerie shadows across the quiet streets. The faint hum of nocturnal life and the flickering lanterns were the only signs of movement, painting an unsettling serenity over the settlement. My steps were quiet as I made my way to Zi Tu's home, my thoughts still lingering on the future.The moment I opened the creaking wooden door, Zi Tu was there, his face lined with worry. His weathered hands gripped his staff tightly, and his eyes scanned me from head to toe with an intensity that seemed out of character."Bái Xūé!" he exclaimed, his voice a mixture of relief and scolding. "You're back! What took you so long? I thought-" He hesitated, his voice faltering. "I thought something might have happened to you."I paused in the doorway, my Tang Dao still strapped to my side, and studied his expression. There was genuine concern in his voice. His worry wasn't just about my late return; it was the kind of worry reserved for someone who mattered."I was delayed," I replied simply, stepping inside and placing my satchel on the table. "But I'm fine. There's no need to worry."Zi Tu shook his head, his brow furrowing deeply. "You may think there's no need, but this world isn't kind, Bái Xūé. You're just a child-" He stopped himself, correcting his tone. "No, I shouldn't call you that. You've proven yourself far beyond your years. But even so, you're not invincible.""I never claimed to be," I said evenly, my voice devoid of emotion. "But I can handle myself."Zi Tu let out a long sigh, his shoulders sagging slightly. "That's what worries me. You act like you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, but you're still... young."He hesitated, then walked over to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I owe you my life, and my son's too. That's a debt I can never repay. If something were to happen to you because of us-""It wouldn't," I interrupted, my tone firm but calm. "I've made my choices. Helping you and your son was part of that."Zi Tu's eyes softened, his grip tightening briefly on my shoulder before he let his hand fall away. "You're far too composed for someone your age," he murmured, shaking his head. "I don't know whether to be grateful or concerned."I opened my satchel, revealing the Frostshade Moss. The faint silver glow illuminated the room, casting an otherworldly light across Zi Tu's face. His eyes widened, and he stepped closer."You found it," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You actually found it.""I did," I confirmed, setting the moss on the table. "It's enough to treat Zi Cheng. Let's not waste any more time."Zi Tu's gratitude overflowed as he fell to his knees, bowing deeply until his forehead nearly touched the floor. "Bái Xūé, I don't have the words to thank you. You've done more for my family than I ever could have hoped. First me, now my son... You're a blessing to us.""Get up," I said, my voice neutral. "I don't need your gratitude. Just follow my instructions carefully."Zi Tu stood slowly, his eyes glistening with tears as he tried to blink away. "You truly are remarkable, Bái Xūé," he said softly. "I don't know where you came from, but... you've given me so much."I didn't respond, turning toward the small room where Zi Cheng lay. "Let's save your son," I said flatly, signaling for Zi Tu to follow. The gratitude in his eyes was evident, but I didn't dwell on it. My focus was on the task ahead....Zi Tu hurried behind me as I entered the small, dimly lit room where Zi Cheng lay. The air inside was heavy, carrying the faint scent of herbal remedies and the stale staleness of a room long closed off from the outside. A single lantern burned on the table beside the cot, its weak flame casting flickering shadows across the walls.Zi Cheng lay motionless, his face pale and damp with sweat. His breathing was shallow, his chest rising and falling with an uneven, labored rhythm."He's been like this all day," Zi Tu said, his voice trembling. "He hasn't spoken, hasn't even opened his eyes. I was starting to think...""He's still alive," I cut him off, stepping closer to the man. "And that means there's still time. Fetch a bowl of hot water and clean clothes."Zi Tu hesitated for only a moment before nodding and hurrying out of the room. I crouched beside Zi Cheng, examining him closely. His veins were faintly visible under his pale skin, darkened with an unnatural hue-a clear sign of the curse taking hold. The Frostshade Moss would be critical in countering its effects, but its preparation would require precision.Moments later, Zi Tu returned with the items I requested. His hands trembled as he placed the bowl and cloths on the table, but his determination was evident."What do you need me to do?" he asked.I didn't look up as I unwrapped the Frostshade Moss, its silvery glow casting an ethereal light over the room. "First, you'll need to hold him still. The process won't be pleasant, and he may react violently."Zi Tu's face tightened with worry, but he nodded. "I'll do whatever it takes."I took a deep breath, focusing on the task ahead. Carefully, I crushed the Frostshade Moss between my fingers, releasing a faint, almost icy vapor. The plant was cold to the touch, its properties already beginning to activate. Using a small pestle from Zi Tu's assortment of tools, I ground the moss into a fine paste, adding drops of hot water to create a thick, smooth mixture."This will burn," I warned, glancing at Zi Tu. "But it's necessary to draw the curse out."Zi Tu nodded grimly, moving to the head of the cot and gently but firmly holding Zi Cheng's shoulders. "Do what you must," he said, his voice resolute.I dipped a cloth into the paste, coating it evenly before pressing it against the darkened veins on Zi Cheng's arm. The reaction was immediate. Zi Cheng's body jerked violently, his eyes snapping open as he let out a guttural cry of pain. His veins seemed to writhe under the skin, the dark tendrils pulsating as the curse reacted to the treatment."Hold him," I told Zi Tu, my voice calm. Zi Tu tightened his grip, his face strained as he fought to keep his son still.I continued to apply the paste, moving methodically from one affected area to the next. Each application drew more violent reactions, Zi Cheng's body arching and thrashing against the cot. His cries echoed through the room, but I didn't falter. My hands moved with precision.After what felt like an eternity, Zi Cheng's struggles began to subside. His breathing remained ragged, but the dark veins beneath his skin started to fade, their ominous hue receding like shadows chased away by the dawn."It's working," Zi Tu whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "You're saving him..."I glanced at him briefly before turning back to Zi Cheng. "The curse is retreating, but it's not gone. The paste will need to be reapplied twice a day for the next three days. Do you understand?"Zi Tu nodded fervently, tears streaming down his face as he looked down at his son. "Yes, yes, I'll do it. Whatever it takes."I stood, gathering the remaining Frostshade Moss and placing it carefully into a small jar. "This should be enough for the next few treatments. Keep him warm and ensure he drinks plenty of water. The rest is up to his body."Zi Tu fell to his knees, bowing deeply. "Bái Xūé... I can never thank you enough. You've given my son back."I stared at him for a moment, then turned toward the door. "You can thank me by following my instructions," I said flatly. "If you deviate from them, this will all have been for nothing."With that, I left the room, the faint sound of Zi Tu's muffled sobs following me. The night air outside was cold and biting, but I welcomed its clarity. The villagers' lives were their own, but for now, my work here was done. My thoughts, however, drifted forward-towards the future and the path I would soon have to walk.▬▬ι═══════ﺤTwo weeks had passed, and the air in the village had shifted. The time when the recruiter from the Nightshade Monastery would arrive was drawing near, a moment I had quietly marked on my mental calendar.In those two weeks, Zi Cheng had made a full recovery. The oppressive weight that once hung over Zi Tu's household had been lifted, replaced by an atmosphere of joy and relief. Zi Tu, once a man burdened by despair, now carried a lightness in his step and a constant smile on his face. His gratitude was boundless, and it radiated in every action he took toward me.Zi Cheng, now fully healed, had returned to his vibrant self, wandering through the village with newfound energy. His recovery didn't go unnoticed by the villagers. Word spread quickly, and soon everyone knew I was the one responsible for saving him. My standing within the village rose sharply, with even the most skeptical among them now regarding me with a mixture of respect and admiration.Cai Genxin, the healer, approached me during this time, seeking advice. His questions were earnest, and while I didn't offer him anything extraordinary, I gave him a few points to refine his methods-details he seemed eager to implement.I continued my training with unwavering focus. The fight with the cultivator lingered in my mind, a stark reminder of the brutal reality of this world. Strength wasn't just a luxury here-it was a necessity, the very foundation upon which survival was built. Each day, I pushed myself further, honing my skills with the Tang Dao and fortifying my body for whatever lay ahead.But my time wasn't consumed solely by training. With Zi Cheng's treatment complete, I found myself spending more time with him and Zi Tu. Zi Tu, in particular, had grown increasingly warm toward me, treating me less like a guest and more like family. He started addressing me with the tone of a father, his words filled with a mix of pride and affection.Zi Cheng, on the other hand, treated me like a younger brother, constantly seeking my company and sharing the small joys of village life with me. His gratitude was evident in every gesture, from the way he'd bring me water during training to the way he'd eagerly recount his day's activities. It was... new.The concept of familial love was something I had never experienced before-not in the White Room, where relationships were clinical, nor even with Matsuo, the man who had shown me brief kindness during my time outside the White Room. Matsuo's presence had been a fleeting anomaly, bound by circumstance and overshadowed by my inevitable return to the controlled confines of my father's design.Here, however, things were different. The time spent with Zi Tu and Zi Cheng felt... genuine. Or, at least, I think it did. It was a strange feeling, one I wasn't accustomed to. Yet, I didn't reject it. For someone who had spent his entire life as an instrument of calculation and precision, this unfamiliar warmth was oddly welcome.One evening, as we sat by the hearth, I told them my decision."I'll be leaving the village soon," I said, my voice steady and matter-of-fact.Zi Tu looked up from the wooden carving he had been working on, his smile faltering for a moment. "Leaving? Why so soon, Bái Xūé?"Zi Cheng, sitting cross-legged by the fire, frowned. "But you just got here. Where will you go?""The recruiter from the Nightshade Monastery will arrive soon," I replied. "I plan to join them."Zi Tu's expression grew solemn. "I see. It's a noble path, but a dangerous one. The sect... they are not kind to the weak.""That's precisely why I'm going," I said. "Strength is a necessity in this world. Without it, survival is left to chance, and I don't believe in leaving my fate to chance."Zi Tu nodded slowly, his gaze thoughtful. "You've already shown strength beyond your years, but I understand. If this is your decision, I won't try to dissuade you."Zi Cheng's frown deepened. "I don't like it," he muttered. "You just became part of the village, part of our family. Why do you have to leave?"I looked at him, my expression unreadable. "I helped you because it was necessary. But my path doesn't end here, and neither should yours. You have your father, your life here. Cherish it."Zi Cheng didn't respond immediately, his eyes cast downward. Zi Tu reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his son's shoulder."You've done more for us than we could ever repay," Zi Tu said, his voice filled with gratitude. "Whatever path you walk, know that this will always be your home. Should you ever need shelter, you will find it here."I nodded slightly, accepting his words without comment. The flickering firelight danced across the room, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch infinitely, much like the path ahead.The night passed quietly, but the weight of my departure lingered in the air. My decision was made, but for the first time in my life, I wondered what it meant to leave something behind.▬▬ι═══════ﺤA week passed, and 100 kilometers away from the small village where Ayanokoji resided, a striking figure cut through the sky with astounding speed. The man, middle-aged but exuding a vigor and strength unmatched, had long purple hair cascading down his back, sharp black eyes, and a chiseled, muscular build. His dignified yet handsome face held a faint air of aloofness, as if nothing in this world could truly challenge him.He moved at an astonishing velocity, the air popping with each movement. If Ayanokoji were to witness this scene, he would immediately recognize the man's speed-it was supersonic. The man was traveling at Mach 1, a speed with which not even modern commercial airliners were traveling. A speed only by rivaled military fighter jets or the Concorde back on Earth.Yet, even at this incredible pace, the man seemed unbothered, his expression calm as he flew effortlessly over the rugged, mist-shrouded terrain.This cultivator was far beyond the realm of ordinary men, even leagues above the Qi Condensation cultivator Ayanokoji had encountered and defeated. His very presence in the skies seemed to dominate the landscape below.As he sped through the air, his sharp gaze scanned the horizon. "Sigh... Twenty years in closed-door cultivation, and I return to this?" he murmured, his tone tinged with mild irritation. "Three villages left in our recruiting territory, all in the most rural, desolate areas. I doubt there will be anyone worth my time."Just as he finished speaking, he suddenly frowned, his expression sharpening. "Hmm?" He slowed his flight slightly, tilting his head as if listening to something only he could hear. "My Divine Sense... there's a faint trace of Qi residue, roughly 80 kilometers from here, near a village? It's weak, lower stages of Qi Condensation, likely Stage 3 or 4, but it doesn't match the signature of the Shadowthorn Covenant Sect."He floated midair for a moment, his robes billowing around him as his curiosity sparked. "Interesting. A cultivator operating this far out in such an insignificant area? Let's see what this is."With that, his speed doubled. The sonic booms of his acceleration rippled across the landscape as he streaked forward, faster than before, his expression now one of focused intrigue. Despite the increased speed, he still appeared composed, his breathing steady and unlabored, a testament to his immense power.Within two minutes, he arrived at the location where Ayanokoji had fought and killed Fang and his uncle. The clearing was serene at first glance, but his sharp senses immediately picked up on the disturbance in the air."Hoh," he murmured, descending gracefully to the ground. "A fight took place here."He spread his arms slightly, and a wave of energy pulsed outward as his Divine Sense scanned the area. "Blood," he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he detected faint traces beneath the soil. He knelt, placing a hand lightly on the ground. "So they were buried."Raising his fingers, he made a small gesture, and the earth trembled in response. The soil shifted, and the crude grave was unearthed, revealing the bodies of Fang and his uncle. The cultivator stood over them, his expression unchanging as he inspected their corpses."So, this is where the Qi residue originates," he said, noting the faint aura clinging to the older man's lifeless body. "But where is the one who killed them? There are no other Qi traces here."His hand moved in intricate patterns, forming symbols in the air that glowed faintly before dissipating. "Reversal of Shadows."The surrounding air shimmered, and spectral images began to form. Three shadowy figures appeared in the clearing, their faces obscured but their actions vivid. Two of the shadows belonged to the deceased men, while the third was smaller in stature-clearly a child, no older than 13.The scene replayed itself in reverse, showing the child collecting Frostshade Moss, then being confronted by Fang and his uncle. The fight unfolded in stark detail-the calculated movements, the brutal efficiency, and finally, the cold execution. The young shadow's expression remained eerily calm throughout, devoid of fear, hesitation, or remorse, as if the entire event were nothing more than an exercise.The cultivator watched intently, his brows lifting in surprise as the scene ended with the uncle's final desperate plea and the boy's unflinching blade. As the shadows faded, silence hung over the clearing.And then the man burst into laughter."Hahahahahaha!" His voice echoed across the empty woods, his amusement booming and unrestrained. "A child! A mere child, not even a cultivator, outmaneuvering and killing a Qi Condensation cultivator in his thirties? What an extraordinary sight!"He doubled over slightly, his laughter subsiding as a more serious expression replaced his amusement. "This boy..." He paused, glancing at the bodies before him. "This isn't just raw talent. His composure, his ruthlessness-it's as if he's void of emotion, a perfect instrument of logic and efficiency."The cultivator stood in thought, his black eyes gleaming. "To achieve this without cultivation... he must have experienced something unimaginable to forge such a mindset. He's like a blade honed to perfection, cutting through obstacles without hesitation."He stepped back, gazing toward the village visible on the horizon. His Divine Sense extended, sweeping over the area until it rested on a small house. Inside, the young man sat quietly, his expression unreadable even to the cultivator's keen observation."I must see him," the man said, his voice filled with quiet determination. "If he's this formidable now, imagine what he could become within the Nightshade Monastery. This boy-Bái Xūé, was it?-might just be the key to something far greater."With a final glance at the clearing, he turned toward the village, the faintest smirk curling his lips. "Let's meet this monster of logic and see just how far his potential reaches." With that, he disappeared into the horizon, his figure a blur of motion, heading directly for Ayanokoji's location.▬▬ι═══════ﺤThe evening air was calm, the lantern's soft glow flickering against the wooden walls of Zi Tu's home. I sat near the hearth, the fire crackling gently, illuminating the room in a warm, shifting light. Zi Cheng was already asleep in the next room, and Zi Tu was nodding off in his chair, his breathing deep and steady. The peaceful atmosphere was a stark contrast to the chaos I had grown accustomed to in this world.I leaned back, my eyes fixed on the dancing flames, my mind weaving through the events of the past two weeks. The path forward was clear now-joining the Nightshade Monastery was no longer just an option but an inevitability. Power ruled this world, and without it, survival was tenuous at best.As I pondered, a sudden stillness blanketed the room. It wasn't the natural quiet of the night, but something far heavier, a silence that pressed against my senses. Instinctively, my hand moved to the Tang Dao resting at my side, my fingers wrapping around its hilt."You've made an impression, Bái Xūé."The voice came without warning, smooth and calm, yet carrying an undeniable weight. I froze, my gaze snapping toward the source. There, standing soundlessly in the corner of the room, was a man draped in dark robes with faint gray patterns etched along the seams. His long purple hair flowed like a cascade of shadows, and his sharp black eyes gleamed with a mixture of curiosity and authority. He hadn't walked in. He hadn't opened the door. He was simply there.I tightened my grip on the Tang Dao, my expression remaining neutral. "You are?"The man smiled faintly-the kind of smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Sun Min," he said, inclining his head slightly. "An elder of the Nightshade Monastery."An elder. Not a mere recruiter, but someone who held true power within the sect. The gravity of his position wasn't lost on me. Yet, I didn't let my guard drop. His sudden appearance, his soundless arrival-it all pointed to a level of strength and mastery far beyond anything I had encountered before.Before him, I am nothing more than an insect-something he could extinguish with a mere flick of his fingers, without even a trace of effort."You've heard of us," he continued, stepping forward with deliberate grace. His movements were fluid, almost unnatural in their silence. "Good. It saves us time."Zi Tu stirred slightly in his chair, mumbling something incoherent before settling again. Sun Min's gaze flicked to him briefly before returning to me."I've been watching," he said, his tone calm but laced with intrigue. "Two weeks ago, a Qi Condensation cultivator and his nephew met their end not far from here. A remarkable event, considering their killer wasn't even a cultivator."I remained silent, my expression unreadable."You already know who I'm speaking of," he said, his smile widening slightly. "Don't you?"I nodded. There was no point in prolonging this further than necessary. This man-Sun Min-already knew everything. He knew exactly what happened, who I had fought, and even the cultivation stage of the man I killed.It was as if he had personally witnessed the entire event.Denying it would be futile. His demeanor made it clear that any attempt to mislead him would only waste time, and wasting his time could be dangerous. Besides, this situation wasn't without merit. The fact that I had caught the attention of someone as powerful as him could benefit me. It could pave the way for my own ambitions."Yes," I said simply, my voice steady.Sun Min's smile widened slightly, though his eyes remained sharp, assessing. "Good," he said, his tone carrying approval.He paced slowly across the room, his movements as fluid as water, his presence still unnervingly soundless. His gaze flicked to the Tang Dao resting nearby, then back to me."The Qi Condensation cultivator you killed," he began, his voice calm but deliberate, "was weak by the standards of the cultivation world. A mere Stage Four-strong enough to oppress mortals but insignificant in the grander scheme. And yet, you defeated him without even cultivating Qi yourself."I said nothing, letting his words hang in the air."Tell me," he continued, his tone taking on a faint edge of curiosity, "what drove you to kill him? Was it necessity? Pride? Or was it something else entirely?"His question wasn't casual; it was probing, an attempt to understand me, to peel back the layers and see what lay beneath."Necessity," I replied, meeting his gaze directly. "He left me no choice. His presence was a threat, and eliminating threats is the most efficient course of action."Sun Min's expression shifted, a flicker of intrigue passing across his face. He seemed to consider my words carefully, his head tilting slightly as though weighing their merit."Practicality over emotion," he mused. "Cold, calculated, and efficient. You don't simply act-you strategize, even under pressure. That alone sets you apart."He paused, his sharp eyes studying me as though he could see beyond my exterior and into the core of who I was."You have the makings of something... exceptional," he said finally, his voice taking a deeper tone. "And that is why I'm here."I didn't respond immediately. His words, while calculated, hinted at more than just idle flattery. This man saw something in me-something he deemed valuable."You're here to recruit me," I said, breaking the silence.Sun Min's smile returned, faint but genuine this time. "Correct. As an Elder of the Nightshade Monastery, I've seen countless recruits and countless hopefuls. But you? You're not just a candidate. You're a force waiting to be unleashed. And I intend to see just how far that force can go."I studied him carefully, weighing his words. The Nightshade Monastery was my goal, but the direct attention of someone like him could be both a blessing and a curse."And what do you want in return?" I asked, my voice measured.Sun Min chuckled softly, a low, resonant sound. "What any sect wants from its disciples: loyalty, growth, and results. But make no mistake, Bái Xūé-you'll have to prove yourself every step of the way. The Monastery doesn't hand out power freely. You'll earn every ounce of it."His words were clear, his intent sharper than ever. Joining the Monastery wouldn't be an escape-it would be a trial, a crucible.But that was exactly what I needed."Then I accept," I said simply, my tone unwavering.Sun Min's smile widened, and he nodded approvingly. "Good. We leave at dawn. Prepare yourself. The path ahead will not be easy, but it will be... enlightening."With that, he turned, his movements silent as he crossed the room and disappeared into the shadows beyond the doorway.I stood alone in the house, the weight of his words settling over me. The die was cast, and the path chosen. Whatever lay ahead, I would face it with the same resolve that had brought me this far.This was the next step. And I would take it, no matter the cost....The following morning, the house was quiet as I finished packing. Zi Tu and Zi Cheng stood near the doorway, their expressions a mix of pride and sorrow."Bái Xūé," Zi Tu began, his voice thick with emotion. "You've done so much for us. I... I don't have the words to express my gratitude."Zi Cheng stepped forward, his hands gripping mine tightly. "Will you come back someday?" he asked, his voice trembling.I paused, meeting his gaze. "Perhaps."Zi Tu's hand rested on my shoulder, his grip firm but trembling slightly. "May the heavens watch over you, child."I nodded faintly before turning to where Sun Min waited just outside, his presence as calm and imposing as ever. Without another word, I stepped forward, leaving the village and the life I had begun to build behind.As we walked into the mist-shrouded forest, Sun Min glanced at me. "You'll find the monastery challenging," he said. "But I suspect you'll thrive."I didn't respond, my mind was already focused on the path ahead. Challenges or not, I would carve out my place in this world. Power was no longer a distant goal-it was a necessity. And I would claim it, no matter the cost.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Sun Min unceremoniously picked me up and started floating upwards into the air.So Immortals can fly? To be truthful, it's not a comforting feeling having the ground vanish beneath my feet with no way to land safely on my own."Don't worry about falling," Sun Min said without turning back. "With me, you're secure."I remained silent; my lack of response didn't seem to bother him, as he immediately increased his pace. I noticed the faint shimmer of a barrier forming around me—a translucent shield, thin but evidently effective.Moments later, I heard the sharp crack of a sonic boom echoing around us. We had breached the sound barrier.The idea of traveling at Mach 1—or faster—was both exhilarating and unnerving. Without this protective barrier, it would have been fatal. At such speeds, the friction of the air would generate immense heat, enough to scorch flesh and bone. The G-forces alone would crush my body, while the pressure changes from the sonic boom would likely rupture my organs. A human body wasn't meant for this kind of velocity without shielding.It isn't even raw the speed that would kill but the acceleration forces that would, if it weren't for the barrier.Sun Min maintained a relatively low altitude, perhaps five thousand meters above the ground. From this height, I could clearly see the terrain below: rolling hills, jagged cliffs, and patches of dense forest. The speed at which we were traveling, however, made it impossible to take in details before the landscape blurred past.As we ventured deeper into the Nocturnis Vale, the geography became more extreme. The valley's once modest size expanded dramatically, its cliffs towering higher and its expanse widening into an almost unending labyrinth of darkened woods and shadowed gorges. If I had landed here instead of the outskirts near the village, my survival chances would have been drastically lower.As we were traveling within the valley, the surrounding cliffs, reached higher than I could see, passing the layer of shadowed clouds above me.The sheer scale of these cliffs was beyond comprehension—towering far above even Mount Everest's peak, which, back on Earth, is the furthest point from the planet's center. Here, the cliffs seemed to stretch endlessly, as if trying to touch the heavens themselves.The sight was both awe-inspiring and humbling, a stark reminder of how alien and vast this world was compared to anything I had ever known. The shadows cascading from the cliff faces added an eerie, otherworldly ambiance as if the valley itself was alive.Sun Min settled into a cruising speed beyond Mach 1—perhaps 1,500 or 1,600 kilometers per hour. His expression remained calm and unbothered, making it clear he could go much faster. The limitation was purely for my sake.Never in my life would I have imagined this. The idea of a human being capable of traveling at such speeds, entirely under their own power, was incomprehensible. It was one thing to theorize about Immortals and their abilities; it was another to witness the reality firsthand. The power these cultivators wield eclipsed anything I could have imagined.We traveled in silence for nearly four hours. At these speeds, we had covered over 5,500 kilometers—more than the distance between London and Boston.Incredible.Sun Min remained taciturn throughout the journey. He wasn't one for idle chatter, and I had no intention of initiating a conversation. The quiet gave me time to think and to reflect on the sheer disparity between his world and mine.Finally, Sun Min spoke, his voice breaking the silence for the first time since we had taken off. "We're approaching the Nightshade Monastery."His tone was calm, but there was a subtle weight to his words.As we slowed, the shimmering barrier around us thinned, allowing me to take in my surroundings in more detail. The air grew cooler, the light dimmer. Shadows lengthened unnaturally across the landscape as if the very valley bent to the will of the Monastery.Perched high on a jagged mountainside, the Nightshade Monastery emerged from the mist like a vision out of myth. Its sprawling structure was a masterpiece of dark stone and shadowy elegance, with towering spires that seemed to pierce the sky itself. The architecture blended seamlessly with the surrounding cliffs, as though it had grown from the earth rather than been constructed. Flickering lanterns lined the winding path to its gates, their light muted and ghostly.The aura emanating from the Monastery was palpable—an oppressive weight that pressed against my senses, cold and unrelenting. It wasn't malevolent, but it demanded reverence. Power resided here, and it tolerated no weakness.Sun Min began to descend toward a large open courtyard near the Monastery's entrance. The courtyard was vast, lined with intricate carvings depicting scenes of cultivation, shadowy beasts, and celestial battles."Welcome to the Nightshade Monastery," Sun Min said as we touched down. His tone was still calm, but there was an undeniable edge of authority now. "Your journey begins here."I didn't respond. My gaze was fixed on the Monastery ahead. Its towering presence loomed like a dark sentinel over the valley, its vast silhouette etched into the twilight sky. The structure exuded a foreboding yet commanding presence, as though it had existed since time immemorial, watching over this shadowed expanse.The main gates were massive, carved from dark stone, and inscribed with intricate patterns that seemed to shift when viewed from different angles. They radiated an aura of power, one that felt almost alive. Beyond the gates, a dim glow flickered, casting faint light against the shadows and hinting at the life within.The path forward was clear—and it led directly into the shadows.Sun Min motioned with a slight gesture, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. "Step forward. The gates will open for you when they deem you worthy."The gates will decide? Intriguing. Without hesitation, I walked forward, my footsteps deliberate and steady. As I approached, the intricate carvings on the gates began to glow faintly, their light pulsating rhythmically as if matching the beat of an unseen heart.When I was mere steps away, the glow intensified, spreading along the gate's surface like veins of molten metal. The air felt heavier, charged with an invisible force that pressed against me. It was a test—not of strength but of will. The pressure seemed to push against my very soul, demanding resolve, demanding proof that I belonged here.I didn't falter. The weight bore down on me, but I met it with unwavering composure, taking one step, then another. The pressure relented slightly, as though acknowledging my resolve.With a resonant groan, the gates began to part, their movement slow and deliberate. The space beyond was bathed in dim light, revealing a grand courtyard flanked by towering spires and interconnected structures, each one exuding an aura of shadow and secrecy.Sun Min walked up beside me, his expression unreadable. "You've passed the first test. The gates have accepted you.""I wasn't aware the gates were sentient," I said flatly."They are not sentient in the way you think," he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "But they are infused with the Dao of Shadow and the Dao of Darkness. They can sense intent, strength, and potential. Only those who are deemed suitable may enter."Dao of Shadow and Dao of Darkness?I nodded, saying nothing more as we stepped through the gates. The courtyard was vast, its floor paved with dark stone that gleamed faintly under the dim light. Around us, cultivators moved with purpose, their expressions solemn and focused. Each one exuded an aura of power, some stronger than others. The hierarchy here was palpable, like a carefully structured web where every thread had its place.As Sun Min led me through the towering gates into the courtyard of the Nightshade Monastery, the atmosphere shifted palpably. The bustling activity of cultivators came to an almost immediate halt, and a reverent hush swept through the area. One by one, the cultivators present turned toward him, their expressions a mixture of awe and respect.Bowing deeply, they greeted him in unison, their voices ringing out in perfect harmony, "Greetings, Elder Sun!"The sound echoed across the grand courtyard, reverberating against the dark stone walls of the Monastery. Even the most powerful cultivators in the vicinity bowed their heads, a testament to the immense status and authority Sun Min commanded within this realm.Sun Min acknowledged the greetings with a faint nod, his expression calm and composed. "Carry on," he said simply, his voice carrying an unspoken authority that left no room for hesitation.The cultivators immediately returned to their tasks, their movements precise and disciplined, though I noticed many of them casting discreet glances in my direction. Their expressions ranged from curiosity to skepticism, clearly wondering who I was to be walking beside an Elder of such stature.As we continued deeper into the Monastery, Sun Min's aura remained steady and unshakable. I could feel the weight of his status pressing subtly against the air, an unspoken reminder of the hierarchy within this world of cultivation.At the center of the courtyard stood a towering obelisk, its surface covered in inscriptions that seemed to shift and writhe like living shadows. Sun Min led me toward it, his pace steady."This is the Nexus Obelisk," he explained as we approached. "It is where new initiates like yourself register for the entrance examination. Beyond this point, your performance will determine your place within the Monastery—or if you have a place at all."I studied the obelisk closely. The inscriptions seemed to radiate an energy that was both alluring and ominous. As we neared it, a ripple passed through the air, and a faint voice echoed in my mind.State your name.I hesitated for a moment, carefully weighing my options. "Bái Xūé," I said, my tone steady and composed.Immediately, the inscriptions on the obelisk shifted, and a deep crimson glow erupted across its surface, bathing the courtyard in an unsettling light. My expression remained as calm and unreadable as ever, but the reaction had clearly drawn the attention of nearby cultivators.Sun Min observed the scene with a faint, almost imperceptible smirk. "A falsehood," he said calmly, his tone devoid of judgment. "The Nexus Obelisk accepts only truth. You must tell it your real name."For a brief moment, I considered doubling down, attempting to convince the obelisk with another lie. But the crimson light was unyielding, a silent reminder of its purpose. There was no room for deceit here.With a sigh, I relented. "Ayanokoji Kiyotaka," I said, my voice flat and unchanging.The inscriptions on the obelisk immediately shifted again, glowing a bright green that bathed the surroundings in an almost serene light. The ripples in the air calmed, and the obelisk pulsed once, as though satisfied."Good," Sun Min said, his tone now devoid of amusement. "The Monastery values truth, even when it is inconvenient. Remember this."The cultivators who had stopped to watch quickly averted their gazes and returned to their tasks. I noted their reaction—not curiosity but disciplined disinterest. It was as if they had seen this process countless times before and had no reason to dwell on it.The obelisk's voice echoed in my mind again.State your age."Thirteen," I said.This time, the inscriptions glowed green, confirming my statement.State your origin.I paused again, deciding on an answer that would avoid unnecessary complications. "From the Nocturnis Vale."In the background, I could see Elder Sun's brows furrow when hearing my answer.The green light returned, pulsing gently before fading once more.State your intent.This question gave me pause. Intent was a loaded word, and the wrong answer could jeopardize my entry. After a moment, I replied, "To uncover the truth of this world and grow stronger."The inscriptions shifted once again, glowing green in apparent approval. The obelisk pulsed rhythmically before dimming, and the air around it seemed to settle.Sun Min stepped forward, his golden eyes scrutinizing me. "You've passed the preliminary assessment. But from this point on, words and intentions mean nothing without action. Follow me."Ahead, a series of archways led into the main structure of the Monastery. Each archway was inscribed with symbols similar to those on the obelisk, glowing faintly as though alive with their own energy.As we stepped through one of the archways, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. The air grew cooler, and the shadows seemed to deepen, pressing in around us. We entered a vast chamber lit by faintly glowing crystals embedded in the walls. At the far end of the chamber stood a group of figures—other prospective initiates. Their expressions ranged from calm determination to barely concealed anxiety.Sun Min gestured toward them. "These are your peers. The entrance examination will test your mind, body, and spirit. Only the strongest and most capable will be accepted."I moved to join the group, my gaze flickering over the other initiates. Each one carried themselves differently, their postures and expressions revealing glimpses of their personalities. Some appeared confident, exuding a quiet assurance in their abilities. Others seemed more apprehensive, their eyes darting around the chamber as if searching for threats."The tests will begin shortly," Sun Min said, his tone as sharp as the edge of a blade. "Prepare yourselves. The Nightshade Monastery has no use for mediocrity."With that, he turned and walked away, his presence leaving the chamber as silently as it had entered. The remaining prospective initiates and I were left alone to face the trials ahead.▬▬ι═══════ﺤSun Min floated silently in the air, his presence commanding even without a word. Beside him hovered an equally imposing figure, an old man with crimson-streaked hair and a beard to match. This was Mo Hong, known throughout the Nightshade Monastery as "Red North," a title that reflected his mastery in the Dao of Fire and Shadows. Like Sun Min, he was a Nascent Soul cultivator, his status equal to the one he now accompanied. The two elders watched over the massive courtyard below, where a group of initiates stood gathered, their faces marked by varying degrees of fear, determination, and doubt."The new recruits gather," Mo Hong said, his voice calm but tinged with curiosity. "It's not often that you take a personal interest in the entrance examination, Elder Sun. Let alone recruit someone yourself."Sun Min's gaze didn't waver as it settled on a single figure among the group. "That one is different," he said, his tone as neutral as always. "You will see."Mo Hong's sharp eyes followed Sun Min's line of sight, landing on a boy who stood unnervingly still. Ayanokoji Kiyotaka. Unlike the others who fidgeted, whispered, or scanned their surroundings nervously, he exuded an unnatural calm. Even as the other initiates exchanged glances or shifted in place, Ayanokoji remained as steady as a stone. Mo Hong raised an eyebrow."Him? He doesn't look like much," Mo Hong remarked. "Calm, yes, but that is not enough to succeed here. The trials are designed to break even the composed."Sun Min gave a faint smile. "Perhaps. But his calm is not born of naivety. It is the calm of one who has already survived greater trials than most here could imagine."Before Mo Hong could reply, a lean man with sharp features stepped forward into the chamber below. His black robes bore crimson accents that marked him as one of the Monastery's senior examiners. The crowd of initiates quieted as his voice rang out, clear and commanding."Welcome to the Nightshade Monastery's entrance examination. You stand on the precipice of greatness, but know this—only the strongest in body, mind, and spirit will earn the right to tread the path of shadows."The initiates stood transfixed, their attention fully captured by the examiner's authoritative presence. He began pacing before them, his hands clasped behind his back."The first trial, as you have already begun, is the Nexus Obelisk," the examiner said, gesturing toward the towering stone monolith at the edge of the courtyard. "It has judged your truths and your lies, measuring your worth before you even set foot on this sacred ground. If you stand here now, it means you have passed the Obelisk's scrutiny. But do not grow complacent. That was merely the beginning."The initiates exchanged uneasy glances, and a ripple of tension passed through the group. A few shifted their weight uncomfortably, while others straightened their postures, forcing themselves to appear confident.Sun Min's expression remained unreadable as he observed the scene. Mo Hong, however, smirked faintly. "The Obelisk is a useful filter, but it hardly separates the wheat from the chaff. The real trials begin now."The examiner gestured toward a massive stone gate at the far end of the courtyard. With a low rumble, the gate began to creak open, revealing a dark passage beyond. The air seemed to grow colder as shadows spilled forth from the opening."The second trial," the examiner continued, "will test your mind, body, and adaptability. Beyond this gate lies the Shadowed Labyrinth—a maze imbued with the Monastery's essence. Within it, you will face illusions crafted to mislead you, fears meant to unnerve you, and obstacles designed to test your physical limits."A faint gasp escaped from one of the initiates, but the examiner pressed on, his tone unyielding. "Physical prowess alone will not suffice. You must rely on your intellect and your ability to discern truth from deception. Those who emerge from the labyrinth will prove themselves worthy of continuing."Ayanokoji's gaze flicked toward the gate, his expression betraying no emotion. He had already begun analyzing the possibilities, considering the variables that might await him within the labyrinth.Mo Hong's eyes narrowed as he watched Ayanokoji. "That boy does not react like the others. Not a flinch, not even a flicker of doubt. It is as if he has already mapped the labyrinth in his mind, despite not having seen it."Sun Min gave a slight nod. "He sees the trial not as an obstacle but as a puzzle. For him, this is simply another problem to solve.""Yet that lack of emotion can be a weakness," Mo Hong countered. "The Dao of Shadows demands balance. He may find himself at a disadvantage if he cannot adapt beyond logic."The examiner's voice cut through their conversation. "Those who survive the labyrinth will face the third and final trial—the Circle of Shadows. A test of combat prowess, where you will face your peers in an all-out, free-for-all battle. Strength, strategy, and skill will determine your rank within the Monastery—or whether you belong here at all."The tension in the chamber thickened as the initiates processed the examiner's words. Some clenched their fists, their determination hardening. Others paled visibly, their confidence shaken.As the first group of initiates began filing through the gate, the two elders watched in silence. Their sharp eyes tracked Ayanokoji as he stepped into the shadows without hesitation, his form disappearing into the darkness of the labyrinth. Mo Hong stroked his beard thoughtfully."Interesting," he murmured. "Very interesting."Sun Min didn't reply, his focus entirely on the unfolding trial. High above the courtyard, the two Nascent Soul cultivators remained silent observers, their anticipation growing with each passing moment as the trials of the Nightshade Monastery began in earnest....As Ayanokoji stepped into the Shadowed Labyrinth, a palpable tension filled the air. The heavy stone door sealed behind him with a low, echoing rumble, cutting off any retreat. The air within was dense and cold, carrying a faint hum that seemed to vibrate through his very being. Whispers brushed against his ears, indecipherable but persistent, like the labyrinth itself was alive and aware of his presence.The walls shifted subtly, the shadows rippling as though they were watching, waiting. The ground beneath his feet felt oddly unstable, each step a reminder that nothing in this place could be trusted. Ayanokoji's expression remained unreadable as he took his first deliberate steps forward, his eyes scanning his surroundings with calculated precision. Every flicker of movement, every subtle shift in the shadows, was cataloged in his mind.High above, Sun Min and Mo Hong observed silently, their forms floating effortlessly as they watched the labyrinth unfold below. The labyrinth's interior was projected before them, its shifting, unpredictable pathways laid bare."He entered without hesitation," Mo Hong remarked, his tone contemplative. "That alone sets him apart from the others."Sun Min nodded slightly, his sharp eyes fixed on Ayanokoji. "He does not fear the unknown. More importantly, he adapts without resistance."Within the labyrinth, other initiates were faring far worse. One panicked figure sprinted blindly through the dark corridors, the whispers growing louder with each step until they became mocking laughter. He stumbled into what appeared to be an open doorway, a faint light spilling through. Relief washed over his face—until the floor gave way beneath him. His scream was brief, swallowed by the shadows.Elsewhere, a young girl clutched a dagger tightly as she crept along the walls. Her eyes darted nervously as the shadows ahead of her coalesced into a snarling beast. She lunged at it, her blade striking nothing but air. The shadowy figure enveloped her, and she vanished without a trace.Ayanokoji, meanwhile, moved steadily through the maze, undeterred by the labyrinth's attempts to unsettle him. At a fork in the path, he paused briefly, his gaze flicking between the two options. One corridor was bathed in a faint, inviting glow, while the other was shrouded in darkness."A trap," he murmured, stepping into the darker path without hesitation.The labyrinth responded almost immediately. The shadows ahead of him swirled, forming the shape of a hulking figure with glowing red eyes. The creature roared and charged, its claws slicing through the air. Ayanokoji sidestepped smoothly, his movements precise and unhurried. He observed the way the creature's form flickered as it moved, its instability revealing it as an illusion.Without wasting a moment, he struck the creature's center with a calculated blow. It dissolved into the shadows, its fragments fading into the walls.Above, Mo Hong stroked his beard thoughtfully. "He sees through the labyrinth's tricks with an ease that is almost unnerving."Sun Min's gaze remained fixed on Ayanokoji. "He understands the labyrinth. It is not strength that it tests, but perception and control. He sees through its deceptions because he does not let them affect him."Deeper within the labyrinth, the stakes grew higher. The corridors narrowed, the whispers intensified, and the traps became more insidious. One initiate hesitated at a fork, his indecision costing him precious time. The walls began to close in, the corridor shrinking until there was no escape. His final cry echoed briefly before silence reclaimed the space.Ayanokoji encountered a similar fork but moved through it with the same calm deliberation that had marked his every action. When the floor beneath him shifted, threatening to collapse, he adjusted his steps effortlessly, his balance unshaken. The labyrinth seemed to resist him, its illusions growing more aggressive, but he remained unaffected.As he neared the end, the air grew colder and the whispers coalesced into a deafening roar. A massive shadowy figure loomed ahead, blocking the exit. Two other initiates stood before it—a wiry boy and a determined-looking girl. Both were battered and exhausted, their faces etched with fear."It seems that there were shorter paths," he thought to himself.The shadowy creature lunged, its claws sweeping through the air with deadly precision. The girl screamed and charged with her dagger, but the creature swatted her aside effortlessly. The boy froze in place, paralyzed by terror.Ayanokoji stepped forward, his gaze fixed on the creature. He studied its movements, noting the way its form flickered and destabilized with each attack."It's unstable," he muttered. "A distraction."As the creature lunged at him, he sidestepped smoothly, avoiding its claws by a hair's breadth. The creature roared in frustration, its form flickering more violently.With precision, Ayanokoji struck its center. The creature let out a final, piercing cry before dissolving into the shadows. The exit stood clear before him.Above, Sun Min allowed a faint smile to cross his lips. "He has surpassed the labyrinth. It did not test him; he tested it."Mo Hong nodded. "Few initiates have navigated it with such clarity."Sun Min's eyes gleamed with anticipation. "This is only the beginning. Let us see how far he can go."Ignoring both the boy and the girl, Ayanokoji stepped through the archway, the cold air of the labyrinth giving way to a dimly lit chamber where the next phase awaited. He glanced back briefly at the labyrinth, then forward again, his expression as unreadable as ever.The dimly lit chamber into which Ayanokoji stepped was stark and oppressive. Shadows seemed to coil along the edges of the room, whispering faintly.Ayanokoji was the first one to arrive. After some time, some remaining initiates arrived, their faces pale and drawn. Their numbers had thinned significantly, a testament to the labyrinth's lethality.At the far end of the chamber, the examiner from before, clad in dark robes stepped forward.The dim chamber erupted with activity as the examiner announced the next phase of the trial. At the center of the room, the floor shifted, groaning as shadows stretched and twisted to form an enormous circular arena. A faint, ethereal light illuminated the edges, creating an eerie yet compelling glow. The remaining initiates, numbering around fifty, watched in tense silence as the arena solidified."This is the Circle of Shadows," the examiner declared, his voice carrying authority and finality. "In this trial, you will face one another in combat. Only the top twenty will proceed to the final stage. Strength alone will not guarantee your success."The murmurs among the initiates grew louder. Anxiety and resolve flickered across their faces as they exchanged glances, gauging their competition. Ayanokoji, as always, remained detached, his brown-amber eyes scanning the arena with measured precision.Sun Min and Mo Hong observed from above, their expressions calm but watchful."The Circle of Shadows," Mo Hong murmured, his gaze sharp. "A trial that weeds out the reckless and elevates the clever. I wonder how far your protégé will go."Sun Min chuckled softly. "He will thrive, Elder Mo."As the initiates were guided to the edge of the circle, the examiner raised his hand, and the faint glow intensified. Shadowy figures materialized at the arena's boundary, their forms indistinct yet menacing. "These phantoms will ensure fairness. Attempt to leave the arena or break the rules, and they will intervene."The rules were simple: engage in combat, eliminate your opponents, and survive until the top twenty remained."Begin!" the examiner commanded, and the arena came alive with chaos.The trial commenced with an eruption of chaos. Initiates rushed forward, their movements frantic as alliances were forged and broken within moments. The air crackled with the sound of clashing weapons and desperate shouts. Shadows danced along the circular arena, their edges sharp and deceptive, a reflection of the environment itself.Ayanokoji stood motionless for a heartbeat longer, his keen eyes scanning the battlefield with surgical precision. Unlike the others, he made no immediate move, instead allowing the arena to become a study in human desperation. Each combatant revealed their strengths and weaknesses with every strike and parry, offering him a wealth of information.He moved only when necessary, his form a blur as he darted between combatants, avoiding unnecessary confrontations. His first encounter came from a reckless initiate, their blade aiming for his side. With minimal effort, Ayanokoji sidestepped the attack, his Tang Dao flashing in a controlled arc. The opponent dropped, their weapon clattering uselessly to the ground.Above the arena, Sun Min and Mo Hong observed in silence, their postures rigid with concentration."He doesn't fight like the others," Mo Hong noted, his eyes narrowing. "Every move is calculated. He wastes nothing."Sun Min's expression remained neutral, though his gaze lingered on Ayanokoji. "He's not here to simply win. He's here to dominate."The combat intensified as the phantoms patrolled the edges of the circle, their incorporeal forms gliding through the air. Their silent vigilance ensured the rules were upheld, and on more than one occasion, their intervention was swift and unforgiving. A young woman attempted to retreat beyond the boundary, only to be swept back into the arena by a shadowy tendril. Her terrified screams echoed briefly before she fell to another's blade.Ayanokoji remained undeterred, his strategy adapting seamlessly to the ever-changing battlefield. He exploited the chaos, using the shadows to mask his movements. When two initiates engaged him simultaneously, he baited one into overextending before disarming them with a sharp twist of his wrist. The other hesitated, giving him the opening to deliver a swift strike that left them unconscious at the arena's edge.From their vantage point, the two elders exchanged glances. "He fights as if the shadows are his allies," Mo Hong remarked, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "It's almost unnatural."Sun Min allowed a faint smile. "It's instinct, honed to a level that transcends ordinary understanding."As the numbers dwindled, the arena grew quieter, though the tension remained suffocating. The remaining initiates began to form uneasy alliances, recognizing that survival demanded cooperation. Ayanokoji was approached by two combatants, their weapons lowered in a gesture of truce."We'll cover your flank if you cover ours," one of them offered, their voice strained but earnest.Ayanokoji's gaze flicked to the shadows behind them. "Your flank is already exposed."Before they could react, a third combatant emerged from the darkness, their blade aimed at the would-be allies. Ayanokoji sidestepped the attack effortlessly, allowing the ambusher to collide with their target. In the ensuing chaos, he dispatched all three with clinical efficiency, his expression as impassive as ever.The phantoms glided closer now, their presence a stark reminder of the stakes. Another initiate attempted to feign unconsciousness, hoping to escape notice. The nearest phantom descended, its tendrils enveloping the deceitful figure in a silent, crushing grip. When it released them, they lay motionless, their chance at advancement extinguished.Ayanokoji's attention remained on the task at hand. He moved through the arena like a specter, his movements fluid and precise. Each encounter ended swiftly, his blade finding its mark with unerring accuracy. His efficiency drew the attention of the other remaining combatants, many of whom began to view him as a greater threat than the phantoms themselves.One particularly large initiate—a brute who had dominated earlier battles with sheer strength—confronted Ayanokoji directly. Their clash was brief but intense, the brute's heavy strikes meeting Ayanokoji's calculated deflections. With a well-timed feint, Ayanokoji exploited his opponent's momentum, sending them sprawling to the ground. A single, decisive strike ended the encounter.The elder's voice broke through the din. "Enough!"The phantoms receded as the remaining initiates—now reduced to twenty—gathered at the center of the arena. The survivors bore varying degrees of injury, their faces a mixture of relief and exhaustion. Ayanokoji stood apart, his demeanor unchanged, his breathing steady despite the exertion.Mo Hong leaned closer to Sun Min, his expression unreadable. "He doesn't just fight to win. He fights to ensure there are no questions about his capability." Sun Min nodded, agreeing with Mo Hong.The examiner stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the initiates. "You have proven your worth in the Circle of Shadows. You now stand among the top twenty, but the true trial lies ahead."As he spoke, the shadows at the center of the arena coalesced, forming a pulsating orb that radiated a deep crimson light. The air grew heavy with its presence, a tangible pressure pressing down on everyone in the chamber.His gaze swept across the initiates, lingering briefly on Ayanokoji. "This trial will test your understanding of both the physical and the metaphysical. Before you stands the Crimson Orb of Resonance. Each of you will step forward, one by one, and place your hand upon it. The orb will assess your compatibility with the Dao of Shadow and Darkness."A ripple of murmurs spread through the room, but Ayanokoji remained silent, his expression impassive.The examiner raised a hand, silencing the whispers. "The orb will test the depth of your spirit and the strength of your will. Should you falter... the consequences will be yours alone to bear."As the first initiate stepped forward, the atmosphere grew tense. The young man hesitated, his hand trembling as he reached for the orb. When his palm made contact, the orb flared brightly. His face contorted with pain, and he let out a strained gasp. After a few agonizing moments, the orb dimmed, and the examiner gestured for him to step aside."You pass," the examiner said, his tone indifferent. The initiate staggered back, his body shaking.One by one, the remaining initiates approached the orb. Some passed, their faces pale but relieved. Others faltered, their screams echoing through the chamber as the orb consumed them in a flash of crimson light, leaving behind nothing but silence.When it was Ayanokoji's turn, he stepped forward without hesitation, his footsteps steady and deliberate. The eyes of the room followed him, whispers rippling among the initiates. Even Sun Min and Mo Hong, observing from above, leaned forward slightly, their expressions attentive.As Ayanokoji placed his hand on the orb, a sharp jolt of energy coursed through him. The orb flared brighter than it had for any of the others, its light shifting between crimson and black. Shadows coiled around his hand, writhing like living entities. The whispers in the chamber grew louder, almost deafening, but Ayanokoji's expression remained calm, his grip unwavering.Above, Mo Hong's eyes narrowed. "He's... not resisting. The orb's power is meant to challenge the initiate, but he's letting it flow through him."Sun Min smiled faintly. "He is not resisting because he has no fear of it. The shadows cannot unsettle a mind that is already an enigma."The orb's light reached its peak, enveloping Ayanokoji in a shroud of darkness. For a moment, the chamber fell silent, the tension palpable. Then, with a sudden burst, the light dimmed, and the shadows receded. Ayanokoji stepped back, his expression unchanged, as the examiner regarded him with an unreadable gaze."You pass," he said, his voice quieter now, almost reverent. "You have demonstrated not only compatibility but mastery. The shadows recognize you."As Ayanokoji returned to the group of initiates, whispers erupted anew. His performance had not gone unnoticed, and the reactions ranged from awe to suspicion.With the trial concluded, the examiner addressed the group one final time. "You who remain have earned the right to enter the Nightshade Monastery. Here, you will hone your skills and seek enlightenment within the Dao of Shadow and Darkness. Remember: survival here is not guaranteed. Strength and cunning will be your only allies."The chamber doors swung open, revealing the inner sanctum of the Monastery. A sprawling network of corridors and halls stretched out before them, illuminated by faint, flickering light. The air was heavy with the weight of countless secrets, and the whispers of the shadows seemed to beckon them forward.As the initiates began to move, Sun Min and Mo Hong descended from their vantage point, their presence commanding immediate attention. The initiates stopped, bowing respectfully.Sun Min's gaze landed on Ayanokoji. "You have proven yourself worthy, but your true journey begins now. Within these walls, you will either rise to greatness or be consumed by the darkness."Ayanokoji met his gaze with quiet composure. "I understand."Mo Hong stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "Let us see how far you can go."With that, the initiates were led deeper into the Monastery, their footsteps echoing through the shadowed halls. Ayanokoji bowed to the elders before he moved with the same calm precision that had defined him throughout the trials, his mind already turning to the challenges ahead.Above, the shadows watched silently, their whispers fading into the cold stillness of the Nightshade Monastery.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
I arrived at a smaller plateau, where the other initiates—now disciples—had gathered. The plateau was bustling with activity, a mixture of excitement and relief palpable in the air. At the center of the plateau was a long table, where a senior disciple was handing out robes, token medallions, and small pouches that seemed to hum faintly with Qi energy. These were the first tokens of our entry into the Nightshade Monastery.I moved to the end of the line, taking my place behind a girl who stood just ahead of me. As she turned to glance at who was behind her, our eyes briefly met. Her expression shifted—her gaze sharpened, and for a split second, her widened eyes betrayed her recognition."You..." she murmured, her voice barely audible over the surrounding noise.I remained silent, offering no acknowledgment beyond a faint nod. Her reaction wasn't unusual. After the trials, I had likely garnered some attention, though I hadn't paid much notice to the others during the labyrinth or the Circle of Shadows.The girl hesitated as if debating whether to speak further but eventually turned back, her shoulders slightly tense. It seemed my presence alone was enough to disrupt her composure.The line moved steadily, and soon it was her turn. She stepped forward, receiving her robes—a deep gray fabric shimmered faintly, resembling threads of shadow. Along with the robes, she was handed a token medallion engraved with the Monastery's emblem—a crescent moon partially veiled by a swirling mist. Finally, the senior disciple handed her a pouch. From it, a faint hum of energy leaked."Next," the senior disciple called, their voice steady but commanding.I stepped forward, my expression neutral as the senior disciple's gaze settled on me. For a moment, their hand hovered over the items, as if gauging something about me. The air around us seemed to tense slightly before they handed me the same set of items."These are your robes," the senior disciple explained curtly. "Wear them at all times unless instructed otherwise. This medallion is your identification as a disciple of the Nightshade Monastery—do not lose it. The pouch contains basic Spirit Stones and a beginner's scroll with foundational information. Study it."As I accepted the items handed to me by the senior disciple, I noticed an additional object tucked alongside the robe and medallion—a small, folded map. The map's material felt sturdy, yet it was as light as a feather, with intricate markings outlining the Monastery's expansive grounds. A distinct marking indicated the section where disciples resided, with my assigned dwelling highlighted in faint silver ink."This medallion," the senior disciple explained, gesturing toward the crescent moon-emblazoned token, "is more than identification. It also serves as a key. You'll need it to access certain areas of the Monastery, including your living quarters and designated training halls."I nodded and slipped the medallion into a hidden pocket within the robe. Its weight was oddly reassuring, though the knowledge that it symbolized my affiliation with the Nightshade Monastery carried a weight of its own.Lastly, the senior disciple handed me two bamboo slips. One bore the name Whisper of Shadows, while the other was inscribed with The Veil of Eternal Night."These are your first manuals," the senior disciple continued. "The first is The Veil of Eternal Night, a cultivation manual exclusive to the Nightshade Monastery. It is the foundational text for your journey here and represents the first of four volumes. Each volume corresponds to a cultivation realm, beginning with Qi Condensation and progressing to Nascent Soul. You will find detailed guidance within to help you harmonize with the Dao of Darkness and the Dao of Shadows."He paused, gesturing to the second slip. "The second manual, Whisper of Shadows, is tailored specifically for Qi Condensation cultivators. It contains multiple techniques that are both practical and essential for survival and combat. These techniques are uniquely attuned to the attributes of shadow and darkness, ensuring you have the tools necessary to embody the Nightshade Monastery's teachings."I examined the slips, feeling the faint hum of power radiating from them."Study them well. Mastery over these fundamentals is not only expected, but demanded if you wish to ascend within the Monastery. You are dismissed," the senior disciple concluded, their gaze sweeping over me one last time.With my belongings secured, I unfurled the map to familiarize myself with the layout. The disciples' quarters were situated to the west of the Monastery grounds, a series of modest yet functional dwellings arranged in concentric circles. Each level of dwelling seemed to signify status, with outer circles assigned to newer disciples like me.Noting the path to my quarters, I headed toward the marked area. As I started walking towards my destination, the girl who had been ahead of me was still standing nearby, adjusting her medallion. She glanced at me again, her curiosity evident."You... were incredible in the trials," she said, her voice steady but cautious. "Especially in the Circle of Shadows. I've never seen someone fight with such precision. What's your name?""Ayanokoji Kiyotaka," I replied simply, my tone devoid of inflection. It was the name ingrained in my medallion, and there was no need to deceive people if they were still going to find out the truth.She hesitated, as though expecting me to elaborate, but when I didn't, she nodded slightly. "I'm Lian Hua," she said, her tone softening slightly. "I hope... we don't end up as rivals."I offered no response, merely inclining my head before stepping away. The interaction was unnecessary, but it revealed that attention was already being drawn toward me. Whether this was an advantage or a hindrance remained to be seen.The crowd had begun to disperse, disciples clutching their own robes, scrolls, and bamboo slips. Some whispered among themselves, glancing in my direction as I passed, but I paid them no mind.The path to the disciples' quarters wound through a narrow corridor flanked by stone walls etched with glowing runes. The air grew cooler as I walked, the shadows around me seeming to deepen. When I arrived at the quarters, I found a small, unadorned building that matched the marking on my map. The medallion in my pocket vibrated faintly, and as I approached the door, it slid open with a soft hiss, responding to the token's presence.Inside, the space was sparse but functional—a simple bed, a small desk, and shelves carved into the walls. A single crystal embedded in the ceiling emitted a soft, ambient glow, casting long shadows across the room. It wasn't luxurious, but it was enough.
My new home, huh?
Placing my belongings on the desk, I removed my old, tattered clothes and donned the new robe I had received. The fabric was far superior—soft against my skin and clearly crafted with meticulous care. It was a stark contrast to the rough clothing I had grown accustomed to.Before I moved on to anything else, I picked up the beginner's scroll. Its contents were as expected: foundational information for new disciples, including the rules of the Monastery, descriptions of significant locations, and the expectations placed upon us. As I read through the text, I couldn't help but notice subtle loopholes woven into the rules. They seemed deliberate, perhaps offering opportunities for those perceptive enough to exploit them. For now, though, I saw no reason to act on them. Timing, after all, was everything.Key locations mentioned in the scroll included the 'Hall of Resonance', the 'Abyssal Archive', and the 'Silent Area', all of which were accessible to disciples for cultivation and learning. However, there were also places off-limits to us new disciples, such as 'The Shrouded Halls', 'Ebonspire Peak', 'The Abyssal Vault', and the enigmatic and dangerous 'Obsidian Sanctum'. These forbidden areas were clearly not meant for the inexperienced, and the warnings in the scroll made that abundantly clear.As an outer disciple, my status was at the lowest rank in the Monastery. To rise above this rank, one could either contribute significantly through missions, win the annual Eclipse Ascension tournament, or reach the 6th stage of Qi Condensation. Advancement wasn't just about cultivation—it was a test of resourcefulness, determination, and strength.Outer disciples like me wore plain gray robes, but the scroll explained the distinctions in attire among the ranks. Inner disciples, those who had ascended through merit or cultivation, wore gray robes accented with dark blue trim along the edges and sleeves. During my time in the courtyard, I had seen over fifty of these disciples, each carrying an air of superiority.Among them, I had also noticed a few disciples wearing gray robes with midnight black accents. These individuals stood apart—not just in appearance but in presence. These were core disciples, cultivators who had either reached the Foundation Establishment Realm or become direct students of the elders. They possessed strength far beyond someone like Fang's uncle, whom I had faced not long ago.Even above the core disciples were the True Disciples, the personal protégés of the Sect Leader. Interestingly, their cultivation base wasn't a deciding factor; their position was earned through favor and merit rather than raw strength alone.Beyond the disciples stood the elders, individuals like Sun Min and Mo Hong. According to the scroll, becoming an elder required reaching the Core Formation Realm, a significant milestone in cultivation. Elders with a Nascent Soul cultivation, like Sun Min and Mo Hong, clearly belonged to the sect's upper echelons, their strength unmatched by most within the Monastery.Finally, the scroll hinted at the existence of the Ancestor, a figure even higher than the Sect Leader. The ancestor was described as a recluse, rarely seen, yet undeniably the ultimate authority within the Nightshade Monastery. The scroll didn't reveal much about his cultivation level, leaving me to wonder: What stage had the Sect Leader and Ancestor reached to stand at the pinnacle of the Monastery?Setting the scroll aside, I turned my attention to one of the bamboo slips resting on the desk. The faint etching on its surface read Whisper of Shadows, a name that immediately piqued my interest. Picking it up, I felt its smooth texture, its weight heavier with the promise of knowledge.Carefully unrolling the slip, I discovered the neatly inscribed text and intricate diagrams within. Despite my non-existing cultivation, the contents were written plainly enough to be understood through observation and intellectual deduction. The slip outlined seven techniques designed for Qi Condensation cultivators, each one distinct in purpose and application.The text detailed how these techniques were crafted to complement one another, providing a versatile toolkit for combat and survival. While I lacked Qi to perform these techniques, the understanding alone was valuable, and I could feel my mind piecing together their potential applications.Shadow Slip: A movement technique that allows the user to phase briefly into nearby shadows, effectively evading attacks or vanishing from sight. The diagrams showed figures seamlessly merging with the surrounding darkness—a skill that could turn the tide of any encounter.Dark Veil: A defensive ability that generates a shield of shadow energy, capable of absorbing Qi based attacks. The descriptions emphasized its ability to protect against powerful cultivator strikes.Silent Fang: An offensive maneuver focused on precision. Imbuing shadow energy into a concentrated strike would paralyze or weaken an opponent by disrupting their Qi flow. The illustrations depicted key points of impact on the human body for maximum efficiency.Gloomfang Edge: A weapon-enhancing technique that infused shadow Qi into a blade, extending its range and adding a corrosive property to its strikes. The diagrams showed a sword surrounded by dark, crackling energy, capable of slicing through both defenses and flesh.Shimmerstep: A deceptive movement ability that creates afterimages in dimly lit environments, confusing opponents and masking the user's true position. This would require exceptional footwork and timing, even for those with Qi.Nightcaller's Grasp: A crowd-control technique that manifested tendrils of shadow to bind or disarm enemies. The diagrams demonstrated how these tendrils could ensnare multiple targets simultaneously, rendering them helpless.Phantom Whispers: A psychological tactic that generates illusory sounds to distract or disorient an enemy. The accompanying notes suggested its effectiveness in breaking focus during battle or instilling fear.Each technique was meticulously detailed with step-by-step instructions and visual aids. The practical applications of these skills were clear, even to someone without Qi like myself. I began to analyze their merits, considering which would be most advantageous to learn first once I reached the Qi Condensation stage.Of the seven, Shadow Slip and Shimmerstep seemed immediately useful, emphasizing movement and evasion. Dark Veil could provide much-needed defense in a world where one attack could end my life.Of course, offensive moves like Gloomfang Edge and Silent Fang are also important, as with them, I wouldn't need to resort to tactics like I did with Fang's uncle.And then there are also two other techniques that also need to be carefully be considered. For now, though, I could only commit the techniques to memory and prepare for the day when I could finally cultivate Qi and execute them. The knowledge itself was a powerful weapon, and understanding the principles behind each move would give me an edge when the time came.As I closed the bamboo slip, I set it aside and picked up the second one, The Veil of Eternal Night, which appeared to be the cultivation manual. Reading its contents would shed more light on the path I was to tread and prepare me for the challenges ahead.Unrolling the bamboo slip, the first lines captured my attention immediately:
"Qi Condensation consists of eight stages. This is the foundational stage of cultivation, where mortals awaken their potential and begin their journey toward immortality. During this realm, cultivators refine the ambient Qi of the heavens and earth, storing it within their dantian and integrating it with their body and soul. Each stage represents a deeper mastery of Qi, with cultivators gaining enhanced physical abilities, longer lifespans, and greater spiritual perception."
All eight stages were explained in further detail.
Stage 1 Initial Awakening: Cultivation begins with sensing Qi for the first time. It requires unwavering focus and determination, as the body and meridians are still fragile at this stage. Successful mastery would gain basic control over Qi, enhanced physical strength, and a heightened awareness of one's surroundings.
Stage 2 Qi Circulation: In this stage, Qi begins to flow through the meridians, strengthening them and harmonizing with the body. Improved stamina and physical endurance, as well as the capability to release small bursts of Qi for defense or attacks.
Stage 3 Meridian Opening: This opens the meridians further, allowing Qi to flow freely throughout the body. The cultivator begins to purify the Qi they absorb, removing impurities. Improved control over Qi allows for basic techniques.
Stage 4 Qi Purification: Refines the Qi within the body, purging impurities to create a more stable and potent energy source. Improves various abilities.
Stage 5 Spiritual Sensitivity: Expending spiritual awareness enables perception of Qi flows in the environment and manipulation with greater precision. The ability to control Qi increases drastically, allowing for advanced techniques.
Stage 6 Internal Stabilization: The cultivator consolidates their Qi reserves, stabilizing the flow within their body. Reduces the risk of Qi Deviation and allows sustained use of techniques.
Stage 7 Elemental Affinity: At this level, the cultivator begins aligning with one or more elements, shaping their future path. Control over elemental Qi and resistance to related attacks becomes possible, opening the door to manipulating forces like shadows or darkness.
Stage 8 Qi Condensation Perfection: The culmination of the realm transforms Qi into a liquid-like state, drastically enhancing its potency. Combat capabilities soar, with the ability to form Qi shields or weapons and extend one's lifespan by decades.
I absorbed the details, my mind carefully analyzing the implications of each stage. Starting at Stage 3, I could perform basic techniques. By Stage 5, advanced techniques like those from the Whisper of Shadows would become accessible. And at Stage 7, I could begin manipulating the shadows and darkness, taking my first true steps into the Dao of Shadows and Darkness.With the introductory guide to Qi Condensation finished, I turned my attention to the section on cultivation itself. The instructions were detailed yet concise, laying out the core concepts necessary to advance. The process began with harnessing ambient shadow energy from the surrounding environment and channeling it into my body, more specifically to my dantian—the region just below my navel, where Qi is stored and cultivated. Successfully completing this process would mark the achievement of Stage 1.The scroll emphasized that Stage 1 was foundational. Once I reached it, I could progress to higher stages, refining my control and increasing the quantity of Qi I absorbed. Each subsequent stage represented a deeper integration of Qi into my body, strengthening me both physically and spiritually.The manual also mentioned a technique called Umbral Absorption, a method designed to enhance Qi absorption rates significantly. However, it came with a warning—attempting it too early, before achieving Stage 3, carried immense risks. A lack of control over the larger influx of Qi could result in Qi Deviation, a disastrous condition where the cultivator loses control of their energy. The consequences ranged from severe internal injuries to death, often in the form of a catastrophic physical explosion. The warning was enough to cement my resolve to approach this method with caution.Beyond reaching the initial stages, the manual outlined two essential goals: developing a Shadow Veil to obscure one's presence and dampen sound, and learning to control and manipulate one's shadow as an extension of oneself. Mastering these would lay the groundwork for future techniques and enhance my stealth and survivability.As I absorbed the information, it became clear why joining the Nightshade Monastery was such a critical opportunity. A sect as powerful as this possessed resources and knowledge that far surpassed anything the Shadowthorn Covenant Sect could likely provide. The Veil of Eternal Night cultivation manual alone demonstrated this—its layered insights and techniques were not something a lesser sect could hope to match.The manual also introduced two techniques available from Stage 3 onwards: Wisping Step, a movement technique designed for agility and evasion, and Shadow Infusion, an offensive skill to channel shadow Qi into attacks.Having mastered those techniques would make learning the techniques in the Whisper of Shadows manual much easier.Another key resource the manual discussed was Spirit Stones, crystalline objects brimming with concentrated Qi. As an outer disciple, I would receive 50 low-grade spirit stones monthly, a substantial resource to aid my cultivation. These stones could be used for various purposes within the sect—renting specialized training facilities, purchasing additional manuals or materials, or even absorbing the energy within them to bolster my cultivation. While their effectiveness diminished at higher cultivation stages, they were invaluable for someone just starting out, like me. Absorbing Qi directly from the environment was far less efficient, particularly in the beginning.The manual explained that more Spirit Stones could be acquired by completing sect missions, selling crafted items or harvested resources, or even participating in wagers and competitions. The structure encouraged growth through contribution and effort, rewarding those who advanced the sect's interests or proved their capability.I set the scroll down and leaned back slightly, processing the wealth of information. It was a lot to take in, but each detail was crucial, and reading it once sufficed for me to memorize its content. The path ahead was clear, though it wouldn't be easy.I settled onto the floor, positioning myself as visualized in the manual. My breathing followed the precise pattern described—slow, deliberate, and rhythmic.
Calm your heart, silence your mind, and feel the energy around you.
The words echoed in my mind, a mantra that guided my focus. At first, the Qi in the air was elusive, like smoke slipping through my grasp. Slowly, as my concentration deepened, I felt it—a faint but unmistakable thread of energy. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there.I focused on that thread, gently guiding it toward my dantian. The process was slow, requiring unwavering precision and patience. My body, unaccustomed to the rhythm, resisted slightly, as though adjusting to a new tempo. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead, the strain building as I persevered. Gradually, the Qi began to collect within me, each wave like a drop filling an empty vessel.Finally, I exhaled deeply and opened my eyes. The room seemed sharper somehow, the shadows deeper and more distinct. A faint sensation lingered in my core—a small but tangible sign of progress. The first step toward cultivating Qi had been taken.Satisfied with the initial results, I reached into my pouch and retrieved a Spirit Stone. Holding it up to the faint light, I examined its translucent surface, which shimmered with a soft, rhythmic glow. The energy within the stone was much more concentrated than the ambient Qi in the air.Following the method outlined in the manual, I concentrated on the energy within the stone. It was easier to locate, a steady pulse that resonated with my growing awareness. Carefully, I guided its energy toward my dantian, feeling the Qi flow smoothly into me. As the energy depleted, the stone's glow dimmed until it finally crumbled to dust in my hand, its essence entirely consumed.Spirit Stones were indeed far more efficient than ambient Qi, just as the manual had indicated. The concentrated energy allowed for faster absorption, and with each stone, my connection to the process grew stronger and more refined.I continued.One Spirit Stone.Two Spirit Stones.Three Spirit Stones....Eight Spirit Stones.The process became smoother, and my control improved with each attempt. My initial awkwardness gave way to a steady rhythm, the Qi flowing into my dantian like water into a reservoir.By the time I reached the tenth Spirit Stone, I paused, setting aside the remaining stones. I had consumed one-fifth of my monthly allowance, and while the temptation to continue was strong, I knew it would be unwise. Cultivation was as much about restraint and discipline as it was about progress.
I think I understand it now. With each Spirit Stone extracted, I have found ways to increase my absorption rate. In the beginning, it would take me 30 minutes to extract one single Spirit Stone, whereas now I only need 3 minutes.
Though I hadn't yet reached the First Stage, I could feel the threshold approaching rapidly. At this rate, a few more days of consistent cultivation would likely suffice. Outside, the sun was beginning to set, its orange glow casting long shadows across the room. Time had flown by.I sat in silence for a moment, considering my next step. My control over Qi had grown significantly, and my sensitivity to the surrounding energy had heightened. Perhaps it was time to attempt something more advanced. The Umbral Absorption technique, while risky, suddenly felt within reach.The manual had warned against using it prematurely, but I felt confident. The refinement I had gained today, coupled with my innate ability to analyze and adapt, made me certain I could manage it without suffering Qi Deviation.There is a reason new disciples like us were given access to the Umbral Absorption technique right from the beginning. Most would shy away from using it, fearing the inherent risks—Qi Deviation, internal damage, or worse. Yet the Monastery didn't forbid its usage, nor did they delay its distribution until disciples reached the Third Stage, as the manual recommended. This subtle decision spoke volumes.If the technique were truly unusable before the third stage, it wouldn't have been handed out. That implied a hidden layer to its design, a method or nuance that allowed it to be used safely even at the foundational level. Perhaps this was yet another test—a deliberate challenge to see who among the disciples had the insight, courage, and adaptability to uncover the truth.This realization bolstered my confidence. There is a way. I simply needed to approach it with the precision and control I had already developed.Steeling myself, I closed my eyes once more, centering my focus. The room around me seemed to fade as I prepared to channel not just Qi, but the deeper, more volatile currents of shadow energy. If successful, this step would accelerate my progress exponentially.The manual emphasized becoming attuned to the unseen currents of darkness, drawing them inward without disrupting their natural flow. It was like reaching into a raging river and guiding a single thread of water without disturbing the torrent.I began with the breathing technique I had already mastered, allowing my mind to quiet and my awareness to expand. The room faded from focus, replaced by the intricate web of energy around me. The shadows seemed to shift subtly, as though responding to my intent.
Steady. Controlled. Precise.
I initiated the first step of Umbral Absorption, extending my awareness outward toward the ambient shadow energy. It was denser than the Qi I had previously drawn, heavier, and more volatile. Unlike the ethereal quality of Qi, this energy felt alive, as though it had a will of its own. It swirled around me, brushing against my senses like a living entity testing my resolve.Instead of pulling it directly into my dantian, I guided the shadow energy through my meridians in a slow, deliberate flow. The technique's danger lay in its unpredictability; a single misstep could send the energy spiraling out of control. But I had anticipated this, and my earlier cultivation had honed my control to a razor's edge.The energy was cold and oppressive, pressing against the inner walls of my meridians like an unrelenting tide. My body tensed instinctively, but I willed it to relax, allowing the energy to flow freely. Gradually, the oppressive weight lessened, replaced by a sense of integration, as though the shadows themselves were becoming an extension of my being.As the energy reached my dantian, I carefully began to condense it, weaving it into the faint Qi I had already gathered. The process was delicate, requiring constant adjustments to maintain balance. Yet, with each passing moment, the flow grew steadier and more harmonious.Minutes blurred into hours as I sat, fully immersed in the cultivation process. With each breath, I felt the Qi within my body settle, condensing into a steady, tangible form. The faint vessel that had once been my dantian now brimming with energy, a reservoir of potential awaiting my command.When I opened my eyes, the air around me seemed sharper, more alive. Shadows danced with an unfamiliar rhythm, as though acknowledging my newfound state. A subtle shift had occurred—I had reached the First Stage of Qi Condensation.The realization was both exhilarating and sobering. I had taken my first true step on the path of cultivation, a road that promised immense power but demanded unyielding discipline. Flexing my fingers, I allowed the Qi within me to flow through my meridians. The sensation was invigorating, like a hidden current of strength surging beneath my skin.I clenched my fist experimentally, channeling the Qi into my muscles. My physical strength had undoubtedly increased; every motion felt more precise, more deliberate. Even my awareness had expanded. The world around me seemed richer, layered with details I had never noticed before. The faint hum of energy in the air, the subtle movements of shadows—they were no longer distant phenomena but tangible realities I could interact with.More importantly, I no longer needed to concentrate intensely to sense the Qi in my surroundings. It was as if my body had attuned itself, allowing me to perceive the ambient energy effortlessly.Though I couldn't yet project Qi outward, I could feel its potential to enhance my strikes and defenses. Testing this, I performed a basic punching motion, guiding the Qi into my arm. The resulting movement was faster and stronger—a hint of the power I could wield as I continued to progress.Setting aside my thoughts, I reflected on the cultivation manual's guidance. The next stages would demand not only dedication but also a deeper understanding of my attributes—shadows and darkness. These elements, the foundation of the Nightshade Monastery's teachings, would soon become integral to my growth.Satisfied with my progress, I returned to the desk and placed the manuals neatly in their designated spot. Tomorrow, I will continue refining my technique and perhaps explore another one from the manual. For now, I needed rest.Looking out of the window, I noticed the sun had fully set, plunging the world into darkness. Yet, to me, the night no longer felt foreboding. It was a realm of potential, a canvas upon which I could paint my growth.As I lay down to sleep, one thought lingered in my mind: I am hungry.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The morning light filtered dimly through the thick mist blanketing the Monastery's grounds, casting long, shifting shadows that moved like restless spirits. I stirred from my simple bed, my mind still swimming in the lingering clarity of cultivation from the previous night. The sharpness of the air seemed to amplify my senses, a reminder of the strength flowing through my newly attuned meridians.My stomach growled—a mundane but insistent reminder that even cultivators—or at least weak ones—were bound to earthly needs. Rising, I brushed off the faint stiffness in my limbs and dressed in the modest robes of an outer disciple. The morning was cool, and the faint hum of activity from outside signaled that the Monastery was already alive with motion.The dining hall was a hive of movement and chatter, a stark contrast to the solemn quiet of the night. Outer disciples, most looking worn from their daily struggles, lined up to exchange Spirit Stones for meal tickets. The aroma of spiced rice and steamed vegetables filled the air, cutting through the tension that seemed to permeate the hall.I stood in line, observing the people around me. Some wore their exhaustion openly, their eyes hollow from sleepless nights spent failing to make progress in their cultivation. Others radiated confidence, their animated conversations filled with talk of breakthroughs and opportunities. It was easy to tell who was advancing and who was stagnating in this harsh hierarchy.When my turn came, I handed over a few Spirit Stones, securing a meal ticket that would last me a week. A simple, practical purchase. My needs were basic, and efficiency was paramount. I ate quickly, focusing on the muted conversations around me. Fragments of discussions about faction recruitment, missions, and sect politics painted a vivid picture of life in the Monastery. Progress here was not just about cultivating strength; it was about accumulating resources, connections, and influence.After finishing my meal, I decided to explore the Monastery further. The grounds were sprawling, with structures varying from simple training arenas to imposing towers. My feet eventually brought me to one of the most intriguing locations I had seen since my arrival: the Abyssal Archive. Its towering black stone structure loomed over the central district of the Monastery, exuding an air of mystery and authority.The entrance was flanked by two stern disciples clad in dark robes. Their sharp eyes scanned me briefly before stepping aside. Inside, the Archive was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from faintly glowing inscriptions etched into the walls. Shelves of scrolls and tomes stretched into the shadows, their ancient bindings emanating a faint hum of residual Qi.I paid the modest entry fee, knowing that only the lower floors were accessible to outer disciples like me. While the knowledge stored here was foundational, it was still a treasure trove for someone like me, eager to piece together this world's fragmented truths. I selected a tome detailing the planet's geography and settled into a quiet corner to read."Umbra Nova is a planet of remarkable contrasts, its diverse environments shaped by a unique rotation that divides the world into two distinct hemispheres. The Noctis Verge, or shadow hemisphere, is perpetually shrouded in darkness, a land of danger and untamed wilderness, home to ferocious beasts and shadow-path cultivators. Opposite lies the Lumen Reach, a hemisphere perpetually bathed in light, with a far larger population of cultivators, traders, and scholars. The two hemispheres are separated by the Veilt Belt, an aurora-laden strip visible from the surface, which acts as both a physical and symbolic divide.""The cultures and philosophies of these hemispheres couldn't be more different. The light-path sects of Lumen Reach emphasize harmony and enlightenment, while the shadow-path sects of Noctis Verge embrace strength and survival. This stark opposition has bred an enduring animosity. Both sides are fiercely territorial, and the transition points along the Veilt Belt are heavily fortified by the Overlords of each hemisphere, making crossing between them perilous."Interesting. I mused as I absorbed the information. Umbra Nova is a planet divided not just by geography but by ideologies. It's almost cliché that light and dark oppose each other so strongly. Yet, despite their enmity, there seems to be a balance—neither side has conquered the other. I wonder if light-path cultivators could even thrive, let alone win, in the shadow hemisphere? And would shadow-path users fare any better in the light?I continued reading."The planet's age is unknown, but its vast size has been calculated. Umbra Nova's diameter measures an astonishing 130,000 kilometers, with a circumference of 400,000 kilometers. Nine-tenths of the planet's surface is split evenly between the two hemispheres, while the remaining tenth is the Veilt Belt."The numbers staggered me. This planet is ten times larger than Earth. I paused to consider the scale. Even this single hemisphere, Noctis Verge, is nearly five times the size of Earth. And the Veilt Belt alone, acting as a mere border, is as large as my entire home planet. Astonishing.Further along, the text listed the major regions of the shadow hemisphere: Obsidian Highlands, Obsidian Spire, Whispering Marshes, Ebonshade Forest, Abyssal Chasm, Midnight Veil Plateau, Phantom Rift Lake, Umbral Sanctum, Shrouded Canyons, Blackflame Wastes, and Nocturnis Vale.Each of these vast territories, it seemed, was a world unto itself, with unique environments, sects, and mysteries."So, Nocturnis Vale is just one of many such regions," I murmured, intrigued. "And the Nightshade Monastery rules this region as its Overlord. Each territory must have its own overlords, secrets, and dangers, much of which remains unknown. What a peculiar world."The mention of regions sent my thoughts wandering briefly to the potential power dynamics and rivalries that must exist between them, but I refocused on the text.I flipped to a section on Nocturnis Vale specifically, eager to learn more about my current surroundings."The Nocturnis Vale is a vast, shadowed expanse dominated by perpetual twilight. The skies above are veiled in swirling gray clouds, with sunlight only shining briefly. Situated in the eastern reaches of Noctis Verge, the region pulses with ambient shadow Qi, a lifeblood for those aligned with darkness and shadows. Under the dominion of the Nightshade Monastery, the Vale is home to sects, villages, and ruins, its diverse landscape ranging from jagged mountains to eerie marshlands and wind-swept plateaus."I read on, absorbing the descriptions of prominent locations within the Vale. There are cities like Blackveil City, a bustling urban hub serving as the region's trade and cultural center. Nearby from the Monastery, there are Veil Caves, a labyrinthine network of tunnels teeming with shadow-infused resources and danger.The text offered more brief summaries of other locations before diving into greater detail. Each place carried a mix of opportunity and peril, promising riches for the brave—or death for the unprepared.Having committed the details to memory, I turned to other tomes, briefly skimming sections on medicine and alchemy. While the information was valuable, it was clear that these texts only offered surface-level knowledge. The deeper, more critical techniques were undoubtedly reserved for higher-ranked disciples or locked within more secure sections of the Monastery.Still, the knowledge was useful. I had gleaned enough to feel confident that my understanding of this world now exceeded that of most outer disciples. Knowledge, after all, was a weapon of its own.The allotted time in the Archive was drawing to a close. I returned the books to their places, taking one last moment to reflect. This foundation will suffice for now, I thought. The more I know, the better prepared I am to navigate the challenges ahead. With this, I can blend in seamlessly while setting my plans in motion.The faint chime signaling the end of the session echoed through the Archive, and I rose from my seat, stepping out into the cool, shadowed air of the Nocturnis Vale.Leaving the Archive, my thoughts turned to the practical realities of life here. Progress within the Monastery clearly required more than cultivation alone. Resources were the true currency of advancement. Spirit Stones, manuals, weapons, and tools—all of it demanded money or merit. My current reserves were woefully inadequate.Conning others crossed my mind briefly, but I dismissed it as a shortsighted option. Drawing the ire of disciples or elders would bring problems I wasn't ready to deal with. Missions seemed like a logical choice, but most of the ones listed on the Mission Board required a higher cultivation stage than mine. The remaining tasks—cleaning, assisting with basic chores, or manual labor—were tedious and offered only enough compensation to survive, not thrive.That left the factions.The Smithing Faction, with its roaring furnaces and rhythmic hammering, seemed practical but unappealing. The work was physically demanding and lacked subtlety. The Talisman Faction, though more intriguing, required mastery of spiritual inscriptions and arrays—a highly specialized skillset.That left medicine and alchemy.Medicine had its advantages. My experience healing Zi Tu's son gave me a foundation to work from, and the practical applications of healing techniques could open doors. But alchemy promised something more. The potential to refine pills not only for profit but also for my own cultivation was a lure I couldn't ignore. The challenge of mastering a complex craft intrigued me even more.I made my decision and headed for the Alchemy Department.As I made my way to the Alchemy Department, my thoughts drifted back to the wealth of knowledge I had absorbed from the Archive. Alchemy, an ancient and revered practice, stood as a fusion of precise technique and spiritual mastery. Its practitioners wielded not only fire and Qi but also an intricate understanding of medicinal properties, refining raw ingredients into potent pills that could bolster cultivation, heal grievous injuries, or even aid in breakthroughs to higher realms.While some sects dedicated themselves entirely to the craft of alchemy, the Nightshade Monastery's Alchemy Department served a crucial function within the sect, equipping disciples with resources indispensable to their growth and survival. From basic Qi Replenishing pills to rare concoctions that could mend shattered meridians, the department was a cornerstone of the Monastery's operations.The book I had studied outlined the fundamentals of pill grades. This system categorized pills based on their impurities, which directly affected their efficacy and safety. While the text hinted at grades beyond what was described, only three were detailed.Low-grade pills are the worst grade, with impurities exceeding 80%. Commonly used by beginners or mortals, they provided limited effects and often came with side effects such as Qi imbalance or mild toxicity. These pills were rudimentary but necessary for those unable to afford better alternatives.Next were mid-grade pills, with impurities falling below 80% but exceeding 60%. These were the standard for outer disciples—functional but far from optimal. While they offered mild benefits, their inefficiencies made them a stepping stone rather than a long-term solution.Finally, the book described high-grade pills, those with impurities below 60%. These pills, prized by inner disciples, delivered reliable effects with moderate safety. They represented the benchmark for practical use among serious cultivators. However, not all pills can reach higher grades. Some formulas were inherently flawed, while others relied on inferior ingredients, capping their potential.The ranks of alchemists were similarly structured, reflecting their ability to consistently refine pills of varying grades. Each rank was more than just a title—it was a testament to skill, experience, and dedication, marked by the insignia they wore on their robes.At the base was the Novice Alchemist, denoted by a simple black flame insignia. Novices were apprentices in every sense, tasked with ingredient preparation and refining the most basic pills. Their work was often riddled with inefficiencies and impurities, but it was a necessary stage of growth.Above them stood the Apprentice Alchemists, whose insignia bore a silver flame. These individuals had proven their ability to refine mid-grade pills with reasonable consistency. Apprentices were the backbone of alchemical operations, producing the bulk of pills consumed by outer disciples.The next rank was the Journeyman Alchemist, represented by a golden flame insignia. Journeymen were artisans in their craft, capable of creating high-grade pills with efficiency and precision. Their mastery extended beyond basic formulas, allowing them to experiment with complex recipes and tackle challenging refinement tasks.These ranks weren't bestowed lightly. To ascend, an alchemist had to not only demonstrate their ability to refine pills of the requisite grade but also pass rigorous tests designed to measure their skill under pressure.How far I can go remains to be seen, I thought as I approached the Alchemy Department's imposing structure, its chimneys releasing plumes of fragrant smoke. The hum of activity within was audible even from the outside—a symphony of grinding herbs, roaring furnaces, and the faint crackle of Qi infused flames.I paused at the entrance, observing the ebb and flow of disciples clad in robes adorned with their respective insignias. The black flame of the novices was most common, followed by the occasional silver flames of apprentices. Golden flames were much rarer, reserved for the Journeymen, who commanded respect and deference wherever they walked.The reception area was tucked neatly near the entrance of the Alchemy Department, a small but well-organized space where disciples and visitors alike gathered to make inquiries or register. Behind the polished wooden desk stood a young woman, no older than twenty, with striking features that drew immediate attention. Her calm demeanor and sharp eyes gave her an air of quiet authority, but what truly caught my eye was her attire. She wore the uniform of an inner sect disciple, its fine embroidery marking her elevated status, and pinned to her robe was the unmistakable black flame insignia, identifying her as a Novice Alchemist.As I approached, she greeted me with a warm smile, her voice melodic yet professional. "Hello, junior brother. How can I help you today?"I clasped my right hand into a fist, my left hand covering it, and bowed slightly—a gesture I had learned to be the appropriate greeting when addressing higher-ranked disciples or sect members. "I am here to register for the Alchemy Department," I said, my tone respectful but direct.The young woman's smile brightened as I finished the respectful bow. Her expression was welcoming, but her sharp eyes hinted at the meticulous attention to detail expected of a Novice Alchemist."Registering for the Alchemy Department, are you?" she asked warmly. "You've chosen a demanding but rewarding path, junior brother. Let me guide you through the process."She gestured for me to step closer and retrieved a sleek black ledger from beneath the counter, its shadow-leather cover glinting faintly under the dim light. Flipping to an empty page, she dipped her quill into a pot of dark ink."Name and cultivation stage?" she asked, quill poised."Ayanokoji Kiyotaka. Qi Condensation Stage One," I replied evenly.Her hand froze mid-motion, and she looked up sharply, her brows furrowing in mild disbelief. "Stage One?" she repeated, her tone edged with surprise. Her gaze lingered on me for a moment before softening slightly. "Forgive me, but... are you new? You don't seem familiar."I nodded, answering truthfully. "Yes. I took the entrance examination yesterday and officially began as an outer disciple the same day."Her jaw slackened slightly as she stared at me, trying to process my words. "Yesterday?" she echoed, her voice dropping into disbelief. "You broke through to the first stage of Qi Condensation in a single day? That's..." She trailed off, struggling to reconcile what she'd just heard."Unusual?" I offered."Unusual doesn't even begin to describe it," she said, her surprise now tinged with a hint of admiration. "It normally takes weeks—sometimes months—for most new disciples to achieve their first breakthrough after joining the Monastery. Even then, their cultivation is often unstable, requiring further refinement to stabilize their foundation. Yet..."Her gaze turned analytical, as if searching for any sign of instability in my presence. After a moment, she shook her head, incredulous. "Your cultivation stage feels perfectly stable. You've already consolidated your foundation? That's remarkable."I remained silent, my expression neutral. Her reaction was understandable, but I saw no reason to elaborate.She exhaled softly, composing herself. "Well, I suppose the Monastery's standards haven't slipped, have they? It seems they've recruited quite the talent this time." Her smile returned, though a flicker of curiosity lingered in her eyes. "Let's continue."She resumed writing, her quill scratching briskly across the ledger's page. Once finished, she retrieved two items from beneath the counter and placed them before me: a midnight-blue manual and a thick, silver-edged journal."This manual contains the foundational knowledge you'll need to begin your alchemical studies," she explained, tapping the thinner of the two. "It outlines the basics of alchemy, the refining process, and the tools and techniques you'll use. Consider it your primer."Her fingers moved to the journal, her tone growing more serious. "This journal is your most important resource for the time being. Inside, you'll find detailed information on 1,000 different plants and ingredients commonly used in alchemy. You'll need to memorize every entry—their appearances, how to differentiate them from similar species, proper preparation methods, refinement times, and optimal temperatures. Precision is everything in alchemy. A single mistake can ruin an entire batch of pills or worse."I flipped open the journal briefly, my eyes scanning the dense, meticulously arranged entries. The sheer amount of information was daunting, but something about the challenge intrigued me."You're allowed as much time as you need to study and memorize the contents," she continued. "When you feel ready, you may take the examination. Passing it is mandatory to become a full member of the Alchemy Department. Be warned—it's not easy. Most disciples require multiple attempts before they pass. The exam isn't just about memorization; it's designed to test your understanding and your ability to apply what you've learned.""Understood," I said, closing the journal with a faint thud. Its weight was substantial, both literally and metaphorically.She studied me for a moment longer, her expression softening into one of cautious encouragement. "You're clearly gifted, junior brother. But don't underestimate this process. Alchemy demands patience and diligence as much as talent. Good luck.""Thank you, senior sister," I replied, bowing once more before stepping away from the counter.As I walked into the broader halls of the Alchemy Department, the air grew heavier with the scent of herbs and the faint metallic tang of Qi-laden flames. Disciples moved with purpose, their robes adorned with insignias marking their ranks. The black flame of Novice Alchemists was most common, but I spotted a few silver-outlined flames denoting Apprentices.Finding a quiet corner, I first opened the manual I received. It contained foundational information, much of which I already knew from the Archive. However, the sections on refining processes, alchemical tools, and advanced techniques introduced me to new insights. The detailed explanations of the furnace types, flame controls, and Qi infusion methods provided a clearer picture of how each step contributed to the final product.Satisfied with my initial reading, I turned to the journal. Flipping to the first page, I found the details of the first entry arranged: 1. Shadowmint LeafAppearance: Thin, serrated leaves with a faint silver sheen under shadow Qi.Differentiation: Shadowmint feels cooler to the touch than ordinary mint and emits a faint black vapor when crushed.Processing: Grind within 15 minutes of harvesting to preserve potency.Ideal refinement temperature: 85°C for 30 seconds.Uses: Commonly used in Qi Restoration Pills and calming salves.2. Phantomroot3. Ebonthorn BerryThe depth of detail was staggering, yet as I read, I began to see patterns—visual cues, preparation methods, and processing techniques.I continued to read the journal.997. Wraithvine Tendril998. Dusklotus Petal1000. Abyssal Emberroot.I exhaled slightly as I closed the journal, my mind buzzing with the sheer volume of information I had absorbed. I quickly organized all the newly learned information in my head. My mental discipline and innate analytical abilities allowed me to parse and retain knowledge efficiently.Rising from the quiet corner, I tucked the journal securely under my arm and made my way back to the reception desk. The young woman was still seated there, her focus on a scroll she was meticulously copying. She looked up as I approached, her expression curious."Back so soon, junior brother?" she asked with a faint smile.I nodded. "I'd like to take the examination," I said calmly.Her brows lifted, her surprise evident. "The examination? You've only been here an hour since your initial registration.""That's correct," I replied evenly.For a moment, she simply stared, as if trying to gauge whether I was overconfident or simply reckless. Then her lips quirked into a wry smile. "I have to admit, I wasn't expecting that. Most disciples spend weeks, sometimes months, studying the journal before attempting the test. But... very well. Follow me."She rose gracefully from her seat, motioning for me to follow her as she led me through the corridors of the Alchemy Department. The faint hum of activity faded behind us as we approached a small, quiet room with a single desk and an array of alchemical tools.Turning to me, she said, "The examination is conducted in two parts: identification and application. You'll first be presented with a series of ingredients, some with minor variations, and you'll need to correctly identify and differentiate them. The second part will involve demonstrating your knowledge of preparation techniques. Do you understand?"I nodded. "Understood."She gestured to the table, where several containers and samples were neatly arranged in a meticulous line. Each sample rested in its own compartment, some nestled in clear crystal jars, others displayed openly on polished black trays. The faint aroma of crushed herbs and earthy roots lingered in the air, intermingling with the metallic tang of Qi infused tools."Begin whenever you're ready," she said, stepping back with her hands clasped in front of her. Her expression was professional, but there was a flicker of curiosity and doubt in her sharp eyes, as if she wasn't entirely convinced of my earlier claim.I nodded and stepped forward, my gaze sweeping over the table. The samples were arranged in order of increasing complexity, the first few being straightforward for even a novice to recognize. But as my eyes moved further down the line, the ingredients grew more intricate, their similarities and variations far more nuanced.I began with the first sample.The thin, serrated leaves shimmered faintly under the dim light, their edges exuding a faint silver sheen. Picking one up, I crushed it lightly between my fingers, feeling its cool texture and observing the faint black vapor that rose as I applied pressure."Shadowmint Leaf," I said confidently, my voice steady.The young woman nodded subtly, her quill scratching across the scroll in her hand as she recorded my answer.I moved to the next sample.The gnarled root was twisted and streaked with black and purple lines, its surface faintly pulsing with light when I infused it with a small pulse of shadow Qi. Its lack of the metallic odor associated with similar roots confirmed its identity."Phantomroot," I said, placing it back carefully.The young woman's quill moved again, her expression remaining neutral.The next few samples were similarly straightforward.I picked up one of the dark, glowing berries, rolling it between my fingers to gauge its density. A quick, careful taste of a minuscule piece left a faint tingling sensation on my tongue. "Ebonthorn Berry."The silver-veined tendril glimmered faintly, emitting a low whistle as I passed a slight breeze of Qi over it. "Wraithvine Tendril."The moss was dark green with black-tipped strands. When pinched, it released a faint shadowy mist. "Duskridge Moss."The young woman continued marking my answers, her initial mild curiosity deepening into something more focused.As I moved further along the table, the samples grew more challenging. Subtle variations and hybrid species began to appear, requiring not only knowledge but keen observation and careful testing.Two nearly identical sets of petals sat side by side, their delicate forms nearly indistinguishable. Dusklotus petals had faint violet edges and a fragrance that intensified under shadow Qi, while Dusklily petals were uniform in color and emitted no scent when Qi was applied. Picking up one of the petals, I infused it gently with shadow Qi and noted the immediate deepening of its fragrance."Dusklotus Petal," I said, setting it back down.The young woman's quill paused briefly before resuming, her brows furrowing ever so slightly.By now, her sharp gaze rarely left me, and I could sense her scrutiny increasing with each correct answer.Two roots sat side by side, their gnarled forms both glowing faintly with red veins. However, Abyssal Emberroot emitted a faint warmth, while Crimson Emberroot did not. Holding the root in my hand, I felt the gentle heat radiating from it."Abyssal Emberroot," I said confidently.Her quill scratched furiously as she jotted down the result.The final few samples were clearly meant to test even seasoned novices, their identities veiled in subtle cues or deliberate obscurities.Two orchids rested side by side, their black petals adorned with intricate, almost identical patterns. The Shadowveil Orchid's markings shifted slightly under Qi, while the Shadepetal Orchid's remained static. I infused the sample with a delicate pulse of shadow Qi and observed the faint movement of its patterns."Shadowveil Orchid," I announced, placing the orchid back with care.The young woman lowered her quill, glancing over her scroll with a faint frown as she double-checked her notes. Then she turned to me, her expression a mix of disbelief and growing respect."That's the last one," she said, her voice quiet but clear. "Flawless. You identified every single sample correctly, even the ones designed to confuse or trick you. Most disciples falter by the twelfth sample and the final five trip up nearly everyone. Yet you..."Her words trailed off as she stared at me, her brows knitting together. "You passed without a moment's hesitation."I met her gaze evenly, my tone calm as I replied, "Thank you, senior sister."She studied me for a moment longer, as if trying to uncover the secret behind my performance. Then, exhaling softly, she gestured toward the other side of the room. "The first part of the examination is complete. We'll move on to the second part shortly. Take a moment to collect yourself if needed."I inclined my head in acknowledgment, though I felt no need to rest. As she prepared the materials for the next phase, I reflected briefly on the young woman's reaction. It was clear that my performance had exceeded her expectations, further solidifying the impression I had already made.The young woman moved efficiently, clearing away the identified ingredients and replacing them with a new set of tools and materials. A tray containing an assortment of herbs, roots, and extracts was placed in front of me, along with a small alchemical furnace, a pestle and mortar, and several measuring implements. Each item was pristine and perfectly calibrated, the faint glow of Qi infused craftsmanship evident in their flawless design.She stood beside the table, her sharp gaze lingering on me as she gestured to the arrangement."For the second part of the examination, you'll demonstrate your ability to prepare ingredients for refinement," she explained, her tone measured. "Each item before you requires specific preparation—grinding, slicing, soaking, or heating. You're to follow the documented methods precisely, ensuring the ingredients are ready for use in pill refinement."Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Attention to detail is critical. Even a minor error in timing or technique can render the ingredient useless—or worse, dangerous. This test will measure your understanding and precision."I nodded, stepping forward to examine the first set of ingredients.The familiar serrated leaves were laid out neatly, their faint silver sheen catching the dim light. I recalled the entry from the journal: grind within 15 minutes of harvesting to preserve potency.Selecting the pestle and mortar, I carefully placed the leaves inside and began grinding them with steady, deliberate movements. The cool texture of the leaves broke down smoothly into a fine powder, releasing a faint black vapor as I worked.Once satisfied, I measured the powder into a container and set it aside.The young woman's quill scratched across her scroll as she took notes.Next. The twisted root rested on the tray, its gnarled form streaked with faint purple veins. The journal had specified slicing it thinly and drying it under low heat.Using the provided blade, I sliced the root into uniform slivers, ensuring each piece maintained its structure without fraying. Afterward, I placed the slices onto a heating tray and activated the Qi mechanism, setting the temperature to a precise 40°C.While the slices dried, I moved to the next ingredient.The small, dark berries emitted a faint glow under shadow Qi. The journal instructed that the berries be mashed gently to extract their juices without breaking the seeds, which could release impurities.Taking a berry, I applied controlled pressure with the flat side of the pestle, coaxing out its juices without rupturing the seeds. The deep purple liquid pooled in the collection dish, vibrant and untainted.The process repeated smoothly for the next several ingredients. Each step demanded focus.By the time I reached the final ingredient, the table was littered with prepared components, each precisely processed according to its requirements.The delicate black petals of the orchid lay spread before me, their intricate markings shifting faintly under the influence of shadow Qi. The preparation required removing the petals without damaging the central stem, followed by soaking them in a solution to stabilize their Qi resonance.Using a pair of Qi infused tweezers, I carefully plucked each petal, ensuring none were torn or bruised. Once the petals were removed, I placed them in the provided solution, watching as their markings grew more pronounced, indicating successful stabilization.When I finished, I stepped back, my hands clasped behind me. "The preparations are complete," I said evenly.The young woman approached the table, her sharp gaze moving over the prepared ingredients. One by one, she inspected them, her hands moving with practiced efficiency as she examined the textures, cuts, and consistencies. She paused briefly at the Shadowveil Orchid, lifting one of the petals with the tweezers.After a long silence, she set the petal back down and turned to me, her expression unreadable. "You didn't miss a single detail," she said, her voice quiet but tinged with disbelief. "Every ingredient is perfectly prepared, as if you've been doing this for years. Even experienced novices struggle to achieve this level of precision."I inclined my head slightly. "Thank you, senior sister."She exhaled, her gaze lingering on me for a moment longer before she picked up her scroll. "With this, you've passed the second part of the examination," she said, her tone carrying a hint of respect. "You've demonstrated not only your knowledge but your ability to apply it under pressure. You are now officially a member of the Alchemy Department."She gestured for me to follow her. "Come. There's one final step before you can begin your training properly."Curious but silent, I trailed behind her, the faint scent of herbs and Qi lingering in the air as we left the examination room.The young woman led me through the winding halls of the Alchemy Department, her movements fluid and purposeful. The faint hum of activity surrounded us—voices murmuring instructions, the rhythmic grinding of herbs, and the soft hiss of Qi fueled flames. The air grew subtly heavier as we walked, tinged with the distinct scent of crushed leaves and the metallic tang of spirit tools.We stopped before a pair of imposing dark wooden doors etched with shimmering violet runes. The young woman placed her palm against the surface, and the runes pulsed faintly before the doors creaked open, revealing a spacious chamber.Inside, the room was lined with shelves containing rare alchemical tools, books, and materials. At the center sat a man of commanding presence, his dark robes accented with violet embroidery that marked him as an elder. His insignia, a violet flame, gleamed faintly on his chest—a rank that exceeded even the golden insignias of Journeyman Alchemists.Despite his composed demeanor, his suppressed aura pressed against the air like an invisible weight. While it lacked the overwhelming intensity I had felt from Sun Min or Mo Hong, it was enough to make the room feel stifling.The elder's sharp eyes rose to meet mine as we entered, his gaze carrying the weight of a man who had seen decades of discipline and mastery. "This is the new recruit?" he asked, his voice deep and steady, with an undertone of scrutiny.The young woman clasped her hands respectfully. "Yes, Elder Lu," she said. "He has completed both parts of the examination flawlessly."The elder's brows rose slightly, his expression turning analytical as he leaned forward. "Flawlessly?" he repeated, his gaze locking onto me with unnerving precision."Yes, Elder. He identified every ingredient without error, including the hybrid variations, and his preparation work was... perfect," she added, her tone tinged with faint disbelief.Elder Lu's sharp eyes narrowed as he studied me; his presence felt like a coiled predator evaluating its prey. "Name and cultivation stage?""Ayanokoji Kiyotaka. Qi Condensation Stage One," I replied, meeting his gaze evenly.A ripple of surprise crossed his otherwise stoic face, his brow furrowing slightly. "Stage One?" He glanced at the young woman, as if confirming what he had just heard."He started yesterday, Elder," she said, her voice carrying an undertone of amazement. "Not only did he reach Stage One within a day, but his foundation is fully stable. I verified it myself."Elder Lu leaned back in his chair, his sharp gaze never leaving me. His presence grew heavier for a moment, as if testing my composure, before he allowed a faint nod. "One day to reach Stage One, with a stable foundation, and you pass the department's examination flawlessly on the next day?""Yes, Elder" I replied, bowing slightly, my tone calm but firm.The room fell silent for a moment as the overseer studied me, his sharp eyes seeming to weigh the implications. Finally, he nodded. "Remarkable. If nothing else, you've proven yourself worthy of the department's resources."He walked to a shelf and retrieved a small wooden box, its surface engraved with faint violet runes. Opening it, he revealed a neatly arranged set of insignias, their designs varying from plants to flames. Selecting one with a simple leaf emblem, he stepped closer and handed it to me."This insignia marks you as an Assistant within the Alchemy Department," he said. "Wear it on your robes at all times while working in the department. It is both a symbol of your role and a reminder of the standards you are expected to uphold."I accepted the insignia with a slight bow, affixing it to my robe.Elder Lu continued, his voice steady and commanding. "As an Assistant, your tasks will focus on ingredient preparation, organization, and supporting Novice Alchemists. Only when you've demonstrated the ability to consistently refine pills will you qualify for advancement to Novice Alchemist. Alchemy demands patience and precision—master the fundamentals before reaching beyond them.""I understand, Elder," I said."Good." He gestured to a large ledger resting on a pedestal near the wall. "Before you leave, record your name and cultivation stage in the department's registry. This will officially mark your initiation as an Assistant in the Alchemy Department."I approached the ledger, its pages filled with rows of meticulously written entries detailing the names, ranks, and progress of disciples past and present. Taking the ink brush provided, I wrote:Name: Ayanokoji KiyotakaRank: AssistantCultivation Stage: Qi Condensation Stage OneStepping back, I felt Elder Lu's gaze appraising me once more. "Welcome to the Alchemy Department, Ayanokoji. You've made an impressive start, but this is only the beginning. Prove that you can handle the demands of this craft, and you'll find your efforts rewarded.""I will not falter, Elder," I said, my voice calm but resolute.Elder Lu nodded, turning back to his desk as the young woman gestured for me to follow her.As we exited the chamber, the oppressive weight of Elder Lu's presence lifted, and I exhaled softly, feeling the subtle release of tension.The young woman walked beside me, her posture more relaxed now. "Elder Lu rarely comments on new assistants," she said, her tone lighter. "You've clearly made an impression.""I only did what was required," I replied evenly.Her lips curled into a faint smile. "You're modest, junior brother. That's a good quality in this field. I'm Bai Yun, by the way," she said, inclining her head slightly. "I'm a Novice Alchemist, but I still remember my assistant days. If you need guidance—or just someone to complain to—don't hesitate to ask.""Thank you, Senior Sister Bai Yun," I said, returning the gesture with a slight bow.Her smile widened. "Good luck, junior brother. You're off to an impressive start, but the challenges ahead will test you. Stay focused."She gestured to a bustling preparation hall ahead. "This is where you'll begin. Your first tasks will be assigned shortly. For now, settle in and observe the workflow."With that, she departed, leaving me alone in the preparation hall. Around me, disciples moved with purpose, their stations filled with herbs, roots, and tools. The rhythmic grind of pestles and the soft glow of Qi filled furnaces filled the air.Stepping forward, I approached an empty station, ready to begin the next phase as an alchemist.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
A week had passed since my initiation into the Alchemy Department, and my days had fallen into a purposeful rhythm. Mornings began with a modest meal to sustain me for the long hours ahead, followed by a direct walk to the department where my duties awaited. Each task, though varied, contributed to my growing foundation in alchemy.Some days I worked in the Herbarium, a vast, carefully managed space shared by both the Alchemy and Medicine Departments. It was here that I harvested and sorted herbs, learning to identify subtle differences between similar plants and becoming familiar with their unique properties. Other days were spent in the preparation halls, processing ingredients to perfection-grinding powders, slicing roots, or drying petals in Qi infused furnaces.Occasionally, I was assigned to assist higher-ranked alchemists. My first opportunity came when an Apprentice Alchemist tasked me with aiding them in the refinement of a basic Qi Replenishing Pill. Having observed my precision during ingredient preparation, they entrusted me with critical parts of the process. Though I worked under their close supervision, I could feel their satisfaction with my efficiency and attention to detail.These experiences, though demanding, were rewarding in more ways than one. Joining the Alchemy Department brought with it tangible benefits. As an assistant, I received a monthly stipend of 75 Spirit Stones, a significant increase from just the 50 Spirit Stones given to outer disciples who had not joined a department or faction. Beyond the stipend, I earned additional income through missions, such as gathering rare herbs or assisting with ingredient refinement.This newfound wealth provided me with the means to accelerate my cultivation. Using the Spirit Stones coupled with the Umbral Absorption Technique, my cultivation was rising rapidly.Now, after a week of diligent practice, I had reached the threshold of Qi Condensation Stage Two. Though I had yet to break through, I could feel the growing accumulation of energy within my dantian. Later today, with focused meditation and perhaps a final push from the remaining Spirit Stones, I would likely achieve the next stage.Today marked a pivotal moment for me within the Alchemy Department. I would undergo the examination to earn the title of Novice Alchemist, a rank that signified the ability to independently produce low-grade pills. Should I succeed, I would gain the official right to concoct pills without direct oversight-a privilege that opened the door to greater freedom and, more importantly, opportunities to execute my plans. Plans to make money.Failure, however, would mean continuing as an assistant, restricted to supporting others and unable to advance my ambitions.The path to becoming a Novice Alchemist demanded more than just theoretical knowledge or technical skill. Refining pills was an intricate art, requiring an alchemist's full focus and mastery over multiple factors simultaneously. The process began with perfect control of the furnace temperature. Each ingredient had its own unique requirements, and a single fluctuation could cause the pill to destabilize-or worse, the furnace to explode.Timing was equally critical. Each ingredient had to be added at the exact moment to ensure proper fusion with the others. Delay even by a fraction of a second, and the entire batch would fail.Beyond this, feeding the furnace's flame required the alchemist's own Qi. This was no simple matter; one had to maintain a delicate balance. Too much Qi could destabilize the process, while too little would cause the flame to falter. The strain on one's Qi reserves was immense, and it was no surprise that many alchemists failed simply because they could not sustain the process.Despite these challenges, I approached the task with a calm mind. My strength lay in observation and adaptation-traits that had allowed me to excel over the past week. Every detail I had absorbed during my time as an assistant would now be put into practice.▬▬ι═══════ﺤThe preparation hall was busier than usual when I arrived, the atmosphere buzzing with subdued anticipation. A station had been set aside for the examination, equipped with a medium-sized alchemical furnace and a full set of tools. Pre-measured ingredients for a basic Qi Replenishing Pill were arranged meticulously on a tray: powdered Shadowmint Leaf, dried Phantomroot slices, and a vial of distilled Qi essence.Nearby, a Journeyman Alchemist, marked by the golden flame insignia on their robes, stood ready to oversee the examination. The alchemist, a sharp-eyed woman with an air of authority, turned to me as I approached."Ayanokoji," she said, her tone brisk but not unkind. "You've been approved to take the examination. Do you understand what's required of you?""Yes, Senior," I replied, bowing respectfully."Good," she said, stepping aside to give me full access to the station. "Your task is to refine a batch of three Qi Replenishing Pills. You'll be evaluated on the consistency, quality, and stability of the pills. If the furnace explodes or the batch fails, you will not pass. Focus and precision are required."I nodded, stepping to the station and positioning myself before the furnace. The tools gleamed under the dim light."Begin when ready," the alchemist instructed.Taking a slow breath, I placed my hand on the Qi ignition crystal at the furnace's base. Channeling a steady flow of energy, I ignited the flame, which roared to life with a faint blue glow. Carefully, I adjusted the furnace's controls, stabilizing the heat until it reached the optimal temperature for the first ingredient.I measured out the powdered Shadowmint Leaf, my movements deliberate. Lifting it with a steady hand, I sprinkled the powder into the crucible. The fine particles hissed as they made contact with the heat, releasing a faint black vapor.The flame flickered slightly, demanding more Qi. I fed it carefully, maintaining a balance between sustaining the flame and conserving my reserves."Temperature is stable," the Journeyman observed aloud.The Phantomroot slices were next, their integration requiring even greater focus. Each slice needed to dissolve completely before the next could be added, ensuring their stabilizing effects evenly permeated the mixture. The challenge lay in maintaining the balance between the furnace's heat and the Qi I channeled.As the root began to break down, the furnace's flame flickered unexpectedly, signaling a minor imbalance. I reacted instantly, steadying the Qi stream and fine-tuning the controls to restore equilibrium. Sweat beaded on my forehead, but my hands remained steady, my focus unbroken."Good recovery," the Journeyman Alchemist noted from behind me, her voice calm but carrying a hint of approval.With the second ingredient fully incorporated, I moved on to the final and most delicate step: adding the distilled Qi essence. This shimmering liquid was volatile, capable of destabilizing the entire mixture if introduced too quickly-or too slowly.I uncorked the vial and tipped it carefully, allowing the essence to flow in a controlled stream. The mixture hissed and bubbled as the essence merged with the other components. The reaction was volatile at first, but I adjusted the heat and guided the Qi infusion, calming the reaction and condensing the mixture into a cohesive whole.The flame's color shifted subtly, indicating the ingredients were merging successfully. This was the final phase-condensing the mixture into pill form.Channeling my Qi more deliberately, I focused on compressing the mixture, guiding it as it solidified into small, uniform spheres. Each movement required precise control; the force of my Qi was carefully measured to avoid cracking the forming pills.After several tense moments, the mixture fully condensed. Three small pills rested in the crucible, their faint glow indicating a successful refinement. I retrieved them carefully with Qi insulated tongs, placing them on a cooling tray to stabilize.The room was silent for a moment as I stepped back, exhaling softly. The process had been taxing, but my work was done.The Journeyman Alchemist approached the tray, her sharp eyes scanning the pills. She picked one up, rolling it between her fingers and inspecting its texture and structure."They're stable," she said, her tone carrying a hint of approval. "Consistent in size and glow. A fine result for your first refinement attempt."She walked to a nearby device-a flat, circular platform inscribed with intricate runes that pulsed faintly with Qi. Placing the pill onto the device, she activated it with a touch. The runes flared briefly before a number appeared, glowing faintly above the platform: 87%."Impurity level: 87%," she announced, turning to me. "That's not far from reaching Mid-Grade. For a first attempt, this is impressive. Most novices struggle to even stabilize a low-grade pill, let alone achieve a result this close to the next threshold."The other two pills were tested in turn, displaying impurity levels of 89% and 91% respectively. The Journeyman nodded as she recorded the results. "This one," she said, holding up the pill with 87% impurity, "is a testament to your potential. Keep it as a reminder of what you've accomplished-and of what you still need to improve."She handed the pill back to me, and I accepted it with a respectful bow."You've earned the title of Novice Alchemist," she continued, her tone firm but encouraging. "You now have the right to refine pills independently. Remember, alchemy is a lifelong discipline. Strive for consistency and never become complacent.""Thank you, Senior," I replied, fastening the black flame insignia to my robe with steady hands.The Journeyman Alchemist observed me for a moment longer, and then her stern expression softened slightly, revealing a hint of satisfaction. "You've done well, Ayanokoji. For your first refinement, this is beyond commendable. But as you'll learn, progress in alchemy is measured in consistent results, not singular achievements. Keep that in mind.""I understand, Senior," I replied, bowing respectfully.She nodded and gestured for me to follow her to the side of the preparation hall, where a smaller desk was set up. Sitting behind it was another disciple, their robes marked with the black flame insignia of a Novice Alchemist. They glanced up briefly as we approached but returned their focus to a ledger in front of them.The Journeyman turned to me, her tone shifting to a more conversational cadence. "As a Novice Alchemist, your responsibilities and privileges within the department expand significantly. Let me explain what this entails."She folded her arms, her sharp gaze locking onto mine. "First, you can now accept missions directly from the sect to refine pills. These missions are vital to the sect's operations, as the pills you produce will be distributed to disciples or used in trade. The sect will provide all the necessary materials, as well as access to refining rooms outfitted with alchemical furnaces."She paused, her expression growing more pointed. "Any leftover materials from these missions are yours to keep. You may use them to conduct your own refinements. However, keep in mind that the missions are a reflection of your skill and reliability. Repeated failures or wasted materials can harm your reputation and limit the missions offered to you."I nodded. "I'll be careful to maintain high standards, Senior."Her lips curled into the faintest hint of a smile. "Good. Secondly, your salary has now increased significantly. As an assistant, you earned 75 Spirit Stones per month. Now, as a Novice Alchemist, that amount rises to 200 Spirit Stones per month. Combined with your standard outer sect disciple salary of 50 Spirit Stones, your total monthly income is 250 Spirit Stones. That's equivalent to what an inner sect disciple receives."The mention of my increased income made me pause, though I maintained a composed exterior. This financial boost would accelerate my cultivation and provide me with greater flexibility in acquiring resources."There's more," she continued. "With your new status, you're granted access to two specialized journals. One contains detailed explanations of pill grades, outlining the intricacies of crafting low-grade, mid-grade, high-grade pills, and even beyond. The other expands on your existing knowledge of ingredients, covering rarer and more complex materials that you'll encounter as your skills improve. You can collect these from the archives on your way out today.""I see," I said, processing the implications of her words. "Thank you for the guidance, Senior, and for taking the time to explain everything."She inclined her head slightly, her expression softening just enough to hint at approval. "It's my duty to ensure new Novice Alchemists understand their responsibilities and privileges. You've proven yourself capable, Ayanokoji, but remember, use your time wisely and continue to improve.""I will," I replied earnestly.She gestured toward the smaller desk nearby, where a disciple sat behind a ledger, their black flame insignia marking them as a fellow Novice Alchemist. "Take your token to the disciple over there. They will update it to reflect your new status. Once that's done, you'll have official recognition as a Novice Alchemist within the sect."I nodded and walked to the desk, presenting the token I had been given during my initial registration as an assistant. The disciple, a young man with a focused demeanor, looked up and took the token without a word. He placed it onto a small device inscribed with runes, feeding a small stream of Qi into it.The runes glowed faintly, and the token emitted a soft hum as the process completed. The disciple removed it from the device and handed it back to me. "Your token has been updated," he said. "It now includes your rank as a Novice Alchemist alongside your status as an outer sect disciple. Keep it on you at all times, as it's required for accessing department facilities and accepting missions.""Understood," I said, taking the token and bowing slightly in thanks.As I left the preparation hall, the token rested securely in my robe, and the black flame insignia affixed to my chest. The increase in income and access to resources were opportunities to accelerate my cultivation and refine my craft.▬▬ι═══════ﺤThe reception area of the Alchemy Department buzzed with activity as I entered, disciples moving briskly as they carried out their tasks. Behind the desk sat Bai Yun, the young woman who had overseen my initial registration. Her composed demeanor hadn't changed, though her sharp eyes tracked the movements around her with practiced efficiency.When she noticed me approaching, her lips curved into a welcoming smile, but as her gaze fell on the black flame insignia newly affixed to my robes, her expression shifted. Her eyes widened in surprise."Junior Brother Ayanokoji," she greeted, her tone carrying a mix of curiosity and warmth. "It seems congratulations are in order. You've already earned your rank as a Novice Alchemist?"I inclined my head in acknowledgment. "Thank you, Senior Sister Bai. I completed the examination earlier today."She leaned forward slightly, studying me with a mixture of admiration and amusement. "You don't waste any time, do you? But I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, given how quickly you've progressed.""I believe in making the most of my opportunities," I replied evenly.She chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Well, you've certainly proven yourself capable. And now that you're officially a Novice Alchemist, I assume you're here to accept your first mission?"I nodded. "That's correct. I'd like to take on a mission to refine low-grade pills.""Good choice," she said, reaching for a ledger that rested on the desk. Flipping through the pages with deft movements, she scanned the available missions. "Let's see... Ah, here we go. There's a request for a batch of Shadow Qi Recovery Pills. These are commonly used by outer disciples to replenish their Qi reserves after training or combat. It's a straightforward pill to refine, but it requires consistency and precision to meet the sect's standards.""I'll take it," I said.Bai Yun smiled approvingly and pulled out a small slip of paper-a mission ticket. "Here's your ticket. Take this to the Herbarium, and they'll provide you with the ingredients you need. The materials are supplied by the sect, so you won't have to worry about costs. Once you've completed the batch, return the pills here for inspection and submission."She handed me the ticket, her fingers brushing the edge as she did so. "And Ayanokoji?""Yes, Senior Sister?""Don't rush," she said, her tone shifting to a softer, more sincere one. "This may seem like a simple task, but the reputation you build now will follow you throughout your time in the department. Make sure it's a good one."I nodded, pocketing the ticket. "Thank you for the advice. I'll be sure to keep that in mind."Her smile returned, more relaxed this time. "Good luck, then. I'll be looking forward to seeing the results."With the ticket in hand, I made my way to the Herbarium. As I entered, the familiar scent of fresh herbs and earth greeted me. The Herbarium was a sprawling, meticulously maintained botanical garden that stretched further than the eye could see; its size alone was a testament to the sect's resources. Rows upon rows of plants grew in neatly organized plots, each labeled with elegant wooden signs bearing their names and properties.The air here was different-thick with vitality and the faint hum of Qi infused energy. Some plants emitted faint glows, while others seemed to ripple subtly under the influence of shadow Qi. The sheer diversity of flora was staggering, a living library of ingredients waiting to be harvested and transformed.I had spent time here before, during my week as an assistant, learning to identify and harvest various herbs under supervision. Yet even now, the Herbarium's scale and beauty struck me. It was a place of balance, where the raw chaos of nature was channeled into order, each plant cultivated with care.Approaching the counter at the entrance, I presented my ticket to the steward, an older disciple with a sharp eye and a steady hand. He examined it briefly before nodding."Shadow Qi Recovery Pills," he said, his voice gruff but efficient. "Wait here."He disappeared into the rows of plants, returning a few moments later with a neatly arranged bundle of ingredients. The bundle included Shadowmint Leaf, Wraithvine Tendrils, and a vial of distilled shadow Qi essence. Each item was carefully wrapped and labeled, ensuring they remained fresh and ready for use."Here are your materials," the steward said, handing them to me. "Be sure to follow the instructions closely. These are standard-grade ingredients, but any mistakes could still lead to failure.""I understand," I replied, taking the bundle with care.Leaving the Herbarium, I made my way to the refinement rooms-a series of private chambers designed for alchemists to work undisturbed. Each room was equipped with a state-of-the-art alchemical furnace and tools, ensuring optimal conditions for pill refinement.As I stepped into one of the rooms and closed the door behind me, the quiet atmosphere wrapped around me like a cocoon. I set the bundle of ingredients on the preparation table, arranging them methodically. The tools gleamed under the faint light of the furnace, their presence a reminder of the precision this task demanded.I took a moment to study the formula laid out before me; its instructions were precise yet unforgiving. Each step, from controlling the furnace's temperature to the exact timing for adding ingredients, was detailed, leaving no room for error. The complexity of alchemy wasn't just in following these steps, but in understanding them.Closing my eyes, I visualized the entire process in my mind. I imagined the flame roaring to life, the first ingredient dissolving into the crucible, and the subsequent reactions as each component fused together. I pictured the subtle shifts in temperature, the color changes, and the reactions that indicated success-or failure.What if the flame surged too high during the integration phase? What if the distilled shadow Qi essence destabilized because it was added too early? Countless scenarios played out in my mind, each one testing my understanding of the process. In this mental rehearsal, I explored solutions for every possible error, refining my approach before even touching the furnace.When I opened my eyes, I felt a sense of clarity. The scenarios had prepared me for the task ahead, leaving no room for hesitation.Taking a slow, steady breath, I stepped toward the furnace. The mission required me to refine two batches of Shadow Qi Recovery Pills, and I had been provided with ingredients for three batches. If I executed the process flawlessly, I would have one batch's worth of materials left to experiment with, a chance to push my limits and deepen my understanding.But before I could begin, there was a more immediate concern. My earlier Qi expenditure had drained my reserves significantly. At Qi Condensation Stage One, my Qi pool was small, and I could not afford to begin this task without replenishing it.Reaching into my pouch, I retrieved the Qi Replenishing Pill from earlier-the one I had refined during my Novice Alchemist examination. Holding it between my fingers, I observed it briefly. This was my first-ever pill, a tangible marker of my progress. Yet, I felt no sentimentality toward it. Alchemy was about utility, not sentiment, and this pill's purpose was clear: to restore my energy.The primary difference between this pill and the one I was about to refine lay in its composition. The Qi within this pill was neutral-pure and unaffiliated with any particular element. For some cultivators, this lack of affinity could be a disadvantage, limiting its effectiveness in aligning with their techniques. For others, it was an advantage, allowing for greater flexibility.For me, it made no difference. My cultivation path, steeped in shadows, was adaptive enough to draw on neutral energy without issue.Without hesitation, I popped the pill into my mouth, crushing it between my teeth. A burst of energy flooded my body, the neutral Qi spreading through my meridians in waves. It surged toward my dantian, filling the once-depleted pool with replenished strength.The sensation was brisk and invigorating, like a cool stream flowing into a parched riverbed. These pills weren't designed for cultivation-their energy was too soft and limited to make a meaningful impact on long-term growth. But for replenishing spent Qi, they were unparalleled.Within moments, my Qi reserves were restored, the emptiness replaced with a steady hum of energy. Flexing my fingers experimentally, I confirmed that I was ready to begin.Turning back to the table, I organized the ingredients with methodical precision. Each component was accounted for and arranged in the order they would be used. The Shadowmint Leaf sat to my left, its faint silver sheen catching the light. The Wraithvine Tendrils, coiled like silver threads, were placed to my right, while the vial of distilled shadow Qi essence rested at the center.I placed my hand on the furnace's Qi ignition crystal, channeling a small but steady stream of Qi. The flame roared to life, casting a soft blue glow across the room. Adjusting the controls, I stabilized the temperature, watching the flickering flame until it settled into a steady rhythm.The flame's soft blue glow illuminated the room, casting faint shadows that danced along the walls. My hand remained steady on the furnace's controls as I adjusted the heat, ensuring it maintained the precise temperature required for the first ingredient. The initial stage was critical-any misstep here would ripple through the entire process.Satisfied with the stability of the flame, I reached for the Shadowmint Leaf. Its faint silver sheen shimmered under the light, and a subtle, cooling energy emanated from the powder. Carefully measuring out the required amount, I placed it into the crucible.The leaf hissed as it met the heat, releasing a faint black vapor that curled upward in delicate spirals."Steady," I muttered to myself, my focus razor-sharp.I infused a controlled stream of Qi into the furnace, ensuring the temperature remained constant as the Shadowmint Leaf dissolved. The vapor thickened slightly, indicating that the leaf's essence was merging successfully with the flame's energy.The next step required careful timing. Once the vapor reached the correct density, I added the Wraithvine Tendrils, placing them into the crucible one by one. These silver-veined tendrils emitted a faint hum as the heat activated their latent Qi properties.As the tendrils began to dissolve, I adjusted the flame slightly, increasing the temperature by a fraction. The flame flared briefly before settling back into a steady rhythm, and the mixture in the crucible began to take on a faint, swirling glow.This was the most delicate part of the process. Any fluctuation in temperature or Qi flow could destabilize the mixture. My hands moved instinctively, fine-tuning the furnace's controls while maintaining a steady Qi infusion.The swirling glow in the crucible deepened, signaling that the mixture was ready for the final ingredient: the distilled shadow Qi essence.Taking a slow, steady breath, I uncorked the vial. The liquid within shimmered faintly, its energy volatile and potent. Tilting the vial, I allowed the essence to flow in a controlled stream, watching closely as it merged with the mixture.The reaction was immediate. The crucible hissed and bubbled, and for a moment, the flame flickered wildly. I adjusted my Qi infusion, steadying the process as the ingredients fused together. Slowly, the bubbling mixture began to settle, condensing into a thick, viscous liquid.Channeling my Qi more deliberately, I guided the liquid as it solidified, compressing it into small, uniform spheres. The faint hum of the furnace grew quieter, and the first batch of pills took shape.Three small pills rested in the crucible, their faint glow indicating success. Using a pair of Qi insulated tongs, I removed them and placed them on a cooling tray."One down," I murmured, exhaling softly.After a brief moment to refocus, I began the process again.The second batch followed much the same rhythm, though the earlier experience had honed my movements. The Shadowmint Leaf dissolved more smoothly, the Wraithvine Tendrils integrated seamlessly, and the addition of the shadow Qi essence felt almost instinctive. My hands moved with practiced precision, my Qi flow steady and unwavering.As the second batch solidified, I retrieved the pills with the tongs and placed them alongside the first. The faint glow of six perfectly refined Shadow Qi Recovery Pills illuminated the tray, their consistency and stability a testament to my growing proficiency.I stepped back from the furnace, letting the flame extinguish as I released the Qi infusion. The room grew quieter, the hum of the furnace fading into stillness.I carefully placed the completed batches of pills onto the testing device, a flat circular platform inscribed with intricate runes. Feeding a small pulse of Qi into the device, I watched as the runes flared to life, projecting faint glowing numbers above each pill.The results were as expected-similar to the batch I had refined during my Novice Alchemist examination. The impurity levels ranged between 88% and 93%, solidly within the low-grade classification. Nothing exceptional, but consistent and stable.At least I had refined them without failure, which was more than most novices could claim early in their beginnings. Still, the results were far from what I aspired to achieve.I leaned back slightly, my gaze lingering on the pills. There's room for improvement, I thought, dissecting the process in my mind. I had a few ideas on how to refine the timing of ingredient integration and how to control the furnace's temperature more precisely. These adjustments might push the impurity levels closer to the mid-grade threshold.But implementing these ideas would require extensive experimentation-and experimentation meant failures. Failures, in turn, meant wasted resources. Even with my current income and support from the sect, it wouldn't suffice to fund such trials indefinitely.It was no wonder the path to becoming a truly skilled alchemist was a long and arduous one. It demanded patience, precision, and a steady accumulation of experience. One could not rush it, yet ambition urged me forward.Despite the challenges, I had a plan-a way to generate enough wealth to fund my alchemical pursuits. But before I could act on it, I needed to replenish my Qi reserves. The earlier refinements had drained me significantly.Sitting cross-legged on the floor, I activated the Umbral Absorption Technique, not to cultivate but to restore my Qi. The familiar sensation of shadow Qi flowing through my meridians was both calming and invigorating. I focused on the steady rhythm of absorption, allowing the energy to flow into my dantian and refill the pool that had been nearly depleted.Half an hour later, my reserves were fully replenished, and I opened my eyes. The faint hum of restored energy resonated through my body, sharpening my focus once more.With the remaining ingredients left over from the earlier refinement, I decided to create another batch of Shadow Qi Recovery Pills-this time for myself. Having a personal supply would save me the effort of activating the technique every time my Qi was drained from refining pills.The process was smoother this time. Familiarity with the ingredients and the rhythm of refinement made my movements more fluid, and the batch came together with fewer adjustments. When I placed the pills onto the testing device, their impurity levels mirrored the earlier results. Satisfied, I stored the pills in a small pouch for personal use.With that task complete, I turned my attention to the next step of my plan. To fund my ambitions, I needed to leverage my knowledge and skill in alchemy creatively.Deciding to act, I made my way to the Herbarium. Approaching the steward at the entrance, I spent most of the Spirit Stones I had accumulated on a selection of ingredients. These weren't for Shadow Qi Recovery Pills-they were for simpler medicinal concoctions and salves. Many of these ingredients were familiar to me, either from my time in the village or from exchanging words with Cai Genxin, the physician.The steward handed me a large storage bag, designed to safely hold and preserve the delicate ingredients. As I slung the bag over my shoulder, I felt the weight of my investment.Returning to the refinement room, I set the bag down and took a moment to collect my thoughts. The room was quiet, the faint scent of herbs and the residual warmth of the furnace creating an atmosphere of focus.Sitting down at the preparation table, I began to lay out the ingredients I had purchased, organizing them by type and purpose. Each one carried potential, but it was up to me to unlock it. This was the first step toward turning my knowledge into profit-and the foundation for advancing both my alchemical skills and my cultivation.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The past week had not been solely devoted to following the routine of working in the Alchemy Department and cultivating in the evenings. Beyond those tasks, I spent my time observing my fellow outer sect disciples. Each day offered a glimpse into the habits, connections, and dynamics within the sect—a wealth of information for someone willing to look closely.In the mornings, most disciples followed a predictable pattern. Many began their day with a simple meal before retreating to their living quarters to cultivate in isolation, focused on their personal advancement. Others took on basic missions to earn Spirit Stones—tasks like cleaning the streets, repairing minor damages to the sect's facilities, or fetching mundane supplies. These missions were tedious and paid just enough to scrape by, ensuring these disciples could meet their daily needs but offering little room for ambition.A smaller group, like myself, were aligned with factions. These disciples enjoyed slightly better prospects, their affiliation providing access to resources and opportunities that most others lacked. Their work often involved specialized tasks or training, setting them apart from those toiling away at menial jobs.But it was what I observed beyond the surface routines that intrigued me the most. While keeping an inconspicuous profile, I noticed transactions happening between certain inner and outer sect disciples. These inner sect disciples, with their superior resources and skills, sold pills and salves to the outer disciples.The items they sold were of noticeably lower quality—pills with higher impurity levels and salves that lacked potency compared to properly refined ones. Yet they were still in high demand. Outer sect disciples, desperate for anything that could enhance their cultivation or ease their struggles, readily purchased these items despite their flaws.This, I realized, was an opportunity.The outer disciples lacked the means to produce such items themselves, and the market was underserved. Those inner disciples who dominated it relied on their status and connections, offering products that barely met expectations. But what if someone could offer better-quality items at comparable prices—or even slightly lower ones? The potential for profit was staggering.I had already started acquiring the ingredients for basic salves and pills, investing most of my Spirit Stones into the venture. With my growing expertise in alchemy and familiarity with medicinal preparation, I was confident I could produce items that outperformed what was currently being sold. This wasn't just a chance to make money—it was the foundation of a strategy to establish a foothold within the sect's informal economy.Sitting in the refinement room, I organized the ingredients I had purchased earlier, my thoughts racing as I formulated the next steps. These transactions aren't just about products; they're about trust and consistency. If I can build a reputation for quality and reliability, the outer disciples will come to me. And if they come to me, I can start building the resources I need to fuel my cultivation and further ambitions.The challenge, of course, would be avoiding unwanted attention. The inner sect disciples currently dominating this trade wouldn't take kindly to competition. And while my skills in alchemy gave me an edge, I would need to tread carefully to avoid provoking animosity from those who held more power.I leaned back slightly, letting the cool evening air wash over me as I finalized my plan. First, I need to start small. A few salves, maybe a batch of low-grade Qi Replenishing Pills. I'll focus on consistency and let the results speak for themselves. From there, I'll expand slowly, adjusting to the demand and the dynamics at play.The opportunity was there, and I was ready to seize it.In the dim light of the refinement room, the scent of herbs and extracts mingled in the air as I worked with meticulous precision. Before me, rows of ingredients were arranged neatly on the preparation table—leaves, roots, powders, and oils, each carefully selected for their unique properties. The art of creating salves was fundamentally different from alchemy. Alchemy demanded the manipulation of Qi, perfect control of temperatures, and an intricate understanding of how ingredients interacted under extreme conditions. Salve-making, by contrast, was a more grounded, tactile craft. It was closer to cooking, though the goal was not flavor but utility.With my medicinal knowledge from Earth, I found myself at an advantage. The ingredients here were foreign, their names and appearances unfamiliar, yet they shared striking similarities with those I had studied before. The structure of leaves, the scent of roots, the texture of barks—each offered clues about their functions. Some herbs soothed pain, others reduced inflammation, and a few had regenerative properties akin to the antibiotics and antiseptics I had once known.There were exceptions, of course. Some plants that looked familiar had entirely different effects, and I approached those with caution. Yet many others shared functions or even expanded on what I understood. This overlap allowed me to create salves that went beyond the comprehension of most disciples in the sect, even those in the inner ranks.I began with the basics. A wound-healing salve made from Shadowmint Leaf and Duskridge Moss, enhanced with a faint infusion of Qi, produced a cooling sensation that accelerated tissue regeneration. A pain-relief balm, crafted with the extract of Phantomroot and a few drops of Ebonthorn Berry juice, numbed localized pain while promoting blood flow.The applications were endless. Some salves were practical, aimed at alleviating the everyday struggles of outer disciples—soothing sore muscles, reducing swelling, or repelling insects during field missions. Others, like beauty products for female disciples, tapped into an entirely different market. A mixture of Moonshade Fern essence and Silverdew Petals created a cream that brightened skin and reduced blemishes, a product that could quickly gain attention when discreetly shared with a few disciples.The process was straightforward compared to alchemy. Here, I needed no furnace or intricate Qi manipulation—just an understanding of the ingredients and the effects of their combinations. It was akin to an art form, where the blending of textures, scents, and properties created something useful and, at times, extraordinary.Even so, I wasn't content to stick to the basics. For each salve I crafted, I sought ways to improve upon the foundation. Using higher-quality ingredients, refining preparation techniques, and experimenting with combinations allowed me to create superior products. Where a standard salve might offer mild relief, mine provided noticeable results, a distinction that would not go unnoticed for long.This practice wasn't just about profit, though that was a motivating factor. Salve-making was a stepping stone—a means to deepen my understanding of medicinal properties and refine my craftsmanship. The Dao of Medicine and the Dao of Alchemy weren't identical, but they were closely intertwined. Mastery of one wouldn't guarantee expertise in the other, but it provided a foundation that made advancement easier.Of course, the art of salve-making was just one part of the Dao of Medicine, but still, it would help me improve my craft. Working with different ingredients, testing their effectiveness and using them to the fullest was something that would hugely benefit me in my Alchemy skills.After hours of work, I leaned back and surveyed the table. Neatly arranged jars and containers held an array of salves, each labeled for its purpose:Shadow Mend Salve for wounds.Ember Warmth Balm for sore muscles.Spirit Soothing Cream to calm Qi imbalances.Veilglow Salve for enhanced night vision.Moon Petal Cream, a beauty product certain to attract attention.The room smelled of herbs and oils, a quiet testament to the work I had accomplished.I carefully packed the salves into a storage bag, securing them for transport. The next step was distribution—quietly introducing them to the outer disciples who needed them most. With their superior quality and fair pricing, I was confident they would attract attention and demand. However, one critical detail remained: I needed a distributor.Selling these items directly would draw too much attention to me, something I wanted to avoid. If my growing influence in this small but lucrative market caught the wrong eyes, particularly those of the inner disciples who dominated this trade, it could lead to unnecessary conflict. What I required was someone to act as the face of the operation, shielding me from scrutiny while allowing the salves to circulate freely.For now, I set those thoughts aside. I had another task to complete. With the storage bag slung over my shoulder, I left the refinement room and made my way to the reception hall of the Alchemy Department.The familiar space was quieter now, the hum of activity from earlier in the day having subsided. Behind the desk, Bai Yun was seated, her head bent slightly as she studied a journal with an air of focused concentration. The faint glow of the nearby lamp cast a warm light on her features, softening her expression.As I approached, she glanced up, her expression shifting to one of recognition and mild curiosity."Ayanokoji," she greeted with a faint smile. "Back so soon?"I returned the gesture with a polite nod and placed the small pouch containing the two refined batches of pills on the desk. "I've completed the Shadow Qi Recovery Pills mission. Here are the results."She opened the pouch and examined the pills briefly; her practiced eye scanning for consistency and quality. "Not bad," she said after a moment, her tone carrying a hint of approval. "Consistent size and structure, and the glow indicates proper stability. Looks like you've met the standards."Reaching for the ledger beside her, she noted the completion of the mission and handed me a small slip of parchment. "Take this to the mission rewards office tomorrow. You'll receive your payment there—30 Spirit Stones, as per the mission terms.""Thank you, Senior Sister," I replied, bowing slightly.Bai Yun's eyes lingered on me for a moment, her smile faint but genuine. "You're making a good impression, Ayanokoji. Keep this up, and you might rise through the department faster than you expect.""I'll do my best," I said simply before stepping back and turning toward the exit....By the time I left the Alchemy Department, the Monastery was plunged into darkness. The walk back to my living quarters was uneventful at first, the quiet stillness of the sect's paths broken only by the soft rustle of leaves and the distant hum of cultivation techniques emanating from various quarters. The dim lanterns cast long shadows, creating an interplay of light and dark along the stone pathways.As I approached my living quarters, however, I noticed a figure standing in the shadows near the entrance. It was a skinny outer sect disciple, his posture stiff and watchful. He looked to be about 16 years old, the same age as someone in their second year of high school. His features were sharp but unremarkable, and his narrow shoulders suggested he lacked the imposing build of most physical fighters.Despite his unassuming appearance, there was a familiar air about him—a memory from the past. He reminded me of Sudo during his early days: unrefined and insecure, yet aggressive in his attempts to assert dominance. His eyes flicked toward me as I approached, narrowing slightly before focusing on the insignia pinned to my robes. The faint glow of the black flame insignia seemed to ignite something within him. Greed flashed across his face, his lips curling into a smirk as he stepped forward to block my path."Hey there," he said, his tone dripping with false camaraderie. "You must be one of the new recruits. I've been meaning to have a chat with you."I stopped a few steps away, my gaze meeting his evenly. He was taller than me and carried himself with a confidence that suggested he wasn't new to confrontation. His Qi aura flared slightly, stronger than mine, but his movements lacked the fluid precision of a disciplined fighter."I'm Shen Rong," he continued, a sly grin spreading across his face. "And in case you didn't know, I take care of this part of the outer sect. You see, new disciples like you need a bit of... protection. For a small fee, of course.""Protection money?" I asked calmly, my tone flat.The difference between him and Sudo was that, unlike him, Sudo wasn't openly mugging people.He chuckled, rubbing his hands together. "Smart. That's right. It's a simple arrangement. You hand over 150 Spirit Stones, and I make sure no one messes with you. Refuse..." His grin widened, teeth glinting in the lantern light. "And I'll have to teach you why that's a bad idea."
Perfect.
Without a word, I moved past him, deliberately ignoring his threat as though he wasn't worth acknowledging. His expression darkened instantly, his amusement giving way to anger."Hey!" Shen Rong barked, his voice rising. "Don't think you can just walk away!"His frustration boiled over, and he lunged forward, throwing a wild punch aimed at the side of my head. I had been waiting for this—the opening I needed.I pivoted smoothly, the punch missing me by a hair's breadth as I stepped out of its trajectory. The force of his strike caused him to overextend slightly, leaving him open.Shen Rong's Qi flared, and I felt the weight of his aura pressing against me. He was strong; his cultivation was clearly more advanced than mine, but his movements were unrefined. His reliance on Qi to amplify his strength left him predictable.With my full strength, I delivered a sharp, calculated punch to his solar plexus, aiming to disrupt his breathing and stagger him. My fist connected solidly, and though his strong body and Qi absorption mitigated the damage, his step faltered, and he instinctively drew back, momentarily disoriented.I didn't waste the opportunity. Closing the distance in a single step, I switched tactics, transforming my fists into a bladed form—pointer and middle fingers pressed together like a knife. Using both hands, I struck a series of precise points along his body.The first strikes targeted Qi nodes, disrupting the flow of his energy and causing an imbalance in his internal circulation. His Qi, though still present, faltered and became sluggish, weakening his ability to reinforce his body.His eyes widened as he staggered again, his arms flailing in an attempt to regain control."W-what...?" he stammered, his voice shaky as he felt the disruption in his Qi.I wasn't finished. Moving with deliberate speed, I struck at key nerve clusters, my fingers pressing into pressure points along his chest, arms, and neck. Each strike was executed with precision, designed to bypass his Qi defenses and directly affect his nervous system.Shen Rong gasped, his body convulsing slightly as the strikes took effect. His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground, his limbs twitching as if paralyzed. His breath came in ragged bursts, his Qi now completely uncoordinated, and his muscles refusing to respond.Kneeling beside him, I observed his state with a calm detachment. He wasn't permanently harmed—these strikes would incapacitate him for a few minutes at most—but he was effectively neutralized."You should choose your targets more carefully," I said quietly, my tone devoid of emotion. "Not everyone is as weak as they appear."Shen Rong's lips moved faintly, but no sound came. His body, wracked by the disruption of his Qi and the strikes to his nerve clusters, refused to obey his commands. Panic flickered in his eyes; his earlier bravado shattered.Without hesitation, I stepped forward, grasping him firmly by the throat. Despite his larger frame and clear age advantage, I lifted his body off the ground with ease, the result of my rigorous physical training.Shen Rong's eyes widened in shock as his feet dangled, barely grazing the ground. He struggled instinctively, but his body, still reeling from the earlier strikes, was too uncoordinated to mount any real resistance.I tightened my grip, not enough to damage the delicate structures of the neck, but sufficient to cut off his airflow and induce a sense of helplessness. His hands twitched and clawed weakly at my arm, but it was futile.Leaning closer, I stared directly into his eyes. My gaze was cold and unrelenting, devoid of any emotion, like the void itself. Shen Rong's pupils dilated briefly before shrinking into pinpoints, his body trembling under the weight of my stare.
Fear.
That primal emotion overtook him completely as he realized the disparity between us wasn't merely physical or even based on cultivation. It was the absolute certainty that I was operating on a level of control and calculation he couldn't comprehend."Do you understand your position?" I asked, my voice low and calm, yet carrying a weight that pressed down on him more than my grip ever could.Shen Rong's mouth opened, but no sound came out. His face began to redden, his eyes bloodshot as oxygen drained from his body. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he nodded—an attempt to convey submission even as his consciousness began to blur.The weak gesture wasn't enough to satisfy me. I tightened my grip slightly, ensuring the pressure was maintained without causing permanent harm. His lips turned a faint shade of blue, and his trembling grew more pronounced. I could feel his pulse racing beneath my fingers, a frantic rhythm driven by fear and the body's desperate need for air."You're nothing," I said, my voice dropping even lower, a faint whisper that cut through the suffocating silence. "Nothing but a foolish opportunist who thought he could prey on the weak. But this is what happens when you misjudge someone. Remember this."Shen Rong's eyes rolled slightly as his head lolled, his body too starved of oxygen to resist or even process the full extent of what was happening. He was on the verge of unconsciousness, his earlier bravado now reduced to pitiful vulnerability.Deciding it was enough, I released him. I exerted just enough force to throw him backward, ensuring he landed roughly on the ground but without letting his head strike the hard stone beneath. His body hit the dirt with a dull thud, his chest heaving as he gasped for air, his hands clawing weakly at his throat.For a moment, the only sound was his ragged breathing. His face was flushed deep red, and his bloodshot eyes brimmed with terror.Shen Rong said nothing, his voice lost in the tremors of his body. He simply lay there, his wide eyes fixed on me, paralyzed by a fear that would linger far longer than the physical pain I had inflicted.A dark stain spread across his pants, his body betraying the utter loss of control he felt. The acrid smell of urine reached me, but I remained impassive, my expression cold and unreadable. I stood over him, my shadow looming over his prone form as I spoke, my voice calm and measured."Shen Rong, that's your name, isn't it?"His head jerked slightly, and he nodded frantically, his wide eyes filled with panic."Good," I continued, letting a pause hang in the air, the silence pressing down like a weight. "Shen Rong, from this moment forward, you will follow my instructions. Do you understand?"He nodded again, his movements shaky but desperate to show compliance.I allowed my tone to soften, though not by much. "Don't worry. This isn't without reward. You'll gain benefits—far more than your pitiful attempt to extort protection money could ever offer you. But your loyalty must be absolute. Understood?"Another nod, this one slower as the meaning of my words began to sink in.As I looked down at him, I considered the psychological mechanics at play. Fear, when properly instilled, is a powerful motivator. It bypasses logic and reason, embedding itself deep in the primal part of the brain. At its peak, fear paralyzes, as it had done to Shen Rong just moments ago. But fear alone, if left unchecked, can fester into resentment or rebellion.The key is control. Fear must be paired with a path to escape it, a way to turn that terror into purpose. By offering Shen Rong an alternative—benefits and purpose in exchange for loyalty—I could ensure that the fear I had instilled didn't mutate into something counterproductive. Instead, it would become a foundation for loyalty.Over time, he wouldn't simply obey out of fear; he would begin to rationalize his submission, convincing himself it was the right choice. The human mind, when faced with inescapable dominance, has a way of rewriting the narrative. He would start to believe that he had brought this situation upon himself and that my intervention was not just inevitable but necessary.Eventually, fear would give way to reverence. Reverence, still tinged with respect and caution, but not the overwhelming terror of this moment. That reverence, if properly maintained, would keep him loyal far longer than fear ever could.The process wouldn't happen overnight, but I had no intention of rushing it. For now, all I needed was compliance.I crouched slightly, lowering myself to meet Shen Rong's eye level. He flinched, his body tensing as if expecting another blow, but I remained still, my voice calm but firm."Let me explain something to you," I said, my words deliberate. "The position you're in now is a result of your choices. You made the mistake of targeting the wrong person. But that mistake doesn't have to define you. I'm giving you an opportunity—a way to rise above the pathetic existence you've carved out for yourself."His breathing hitched, but he didn't look away. The fear in his eyes was still there, but now a flicker of something else began to emerge—desperation, perhaps, or the faintest glimmer of hope."You'll do as I say," I continued, "and in return, you'll gain more than you could have dreamed. Power, wealth, status—things that protection money could never bring you. But if you ever betray me..."I let the threat linger unspoken, my gaze piercing into his. He swallowed hard, his throat working against the invisible grip of my earlier actions."Do we have an understanding?" I asked."Y-yes," he rasped, his voice barely audible."Good." I straightened, towering over Shen Rong as he lay crumpled on the ground. His face, still pale and streaked with the remnants of fear, turned upward, his bloodshot eyes locked onto mine."I have the first instruction for you," I said, my voice calm but unyielding.Reaching to the side, I opened the storage bag slung over my shoulder and began pulling out the jars of salves I had prepared earlier. Each jar, carefully labeled and sealed, reflected hours of meticulous work. I held them up one by one, my movements deliberate, as Shen Rong watched with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity."These are different types of salves," I began, my tone steady as I set the jars in a row before him. "Each serves a specific purpose, and their effectiveness far surpasses the common products currently circulating among the outer disciples."Pointing to the first jar, I continued, "This is a Shadow Mend Salve, ideal for healing minor wounds and abrasions. A small amount applied directly to the affected area accelerates recovery and prevents infection."I picked up another jar and gestured toward it. "This is a Spirit Soothing Balm, designed to stabilize Qi pathways and alleviate disruptions caused by overexertion during cultivation. Use it sparingly on the chest or temples."One by one, I explained the contents of each jar, detailing their uses and benefits. From the Ember Warmth Salve, which soothes sore muscles, to the Veilglow Salve which enhances night vision, each product was presented with precision. Finally, I placed the Moon Petal Cream in front of him."This one," I said, tapping the jar lightly, "is a beauty salve. It brightens the skin and reduces blemishes, something the female disciples will undoubtedly find appealing."Shen Rong nodded mutely, his gaze darting between the jars as I spoke."You will divide these salves into portions of 15 grams each," I instructed, my tone sharp enough to convey the gravity of the task. "Distribute them among the outer sect disciples. Use your connections—those you've relied on for your extortion schemes. How you handle the logistics, I don't care, but ensure that neither you nor I are connected to this in any way. The fewer questions asked, the better."I crouched slightly, meeting his gaze directly, my tone lowering to a cold edge. "Sell them for slightly less than what the disciples are currently paying for inferior products. That will ensure quick sales and growing demand. Do you understand?"Shen Rong swallowed hard and nodded quickly, his earlier defiance entirely replaced by compliance. "Y-yes," he stammered, his voice hoarse.I leaned closer, my dark, emotionless gaze boring into his. "Good. If you do this well, there will be rewards—benefits that will far outweigh anything you've managed to scrape together so far."I let the faint promise of reward hang in the air for a moment before continuing, my voice hardening. "But if you fail... If you mishandle this or draw unwanted attention..." I let the unspoken threat linger, the memory of his earlier defeat serving as a stark reminder of the consequences.Shen Rong nodded even more frantically, his body trembling as he absorbed my words. "I-I won't fail. I'll do exactly as you say!"Satisfied, I straightened again, my posture once more imposing as I loomed over him. "Good," I said, my tone returning to calm authority. "Now, go clean yourself up."He flushed with a mix of shame and fear, quickly scrambling to his feet despite the lingering unsteadiness in his movements."You know where to find me," I added as I turned away, my tone dismissive. Without waiting for a response, I began walking toward my living quarters, leaving Shen Rong standing there, clutching the jars of salves with a mix of determination and trepidation.It was only a short distance from where the confrontation had taken place to my quarters. The path, bathed in the soft glow of lanterns, seemed untouched by the events of the night. The faint rustle of leaves and the occasional distant hum of cultivation techniques from nearby rooms created an air of calm that belied the tension that had just unfolded.Sliding the door to my quarters open, I stepped inside and closed it behind me with a quiet thud. The stillness of the room greeted me like an old companion. The simplicity of the space—a low desk, a bed, and a single lamp—reminded me of the bare essentials I worked with.I placed my bag down in the corner and let out a soft breath, the faintest hint of amusement tugging at my lips as I muttered, "What a quiet, uneventful night. How pleasant."The irony wasn't lost on me, but the words carried a truth of their own. The confrontation, the arrangement with Shen Rong, and the first steps toward building a foundation of influence were all pieces of a larger puzzle.I sat cross-legged on the floor, the faint hum of ambient shadow Qi in the air brushing against my senses. Now that the groundwork for my small business had been laid, it was time to focus on the next critical step: advancing my cultivation.I need to break through to Qi Condensation Stage Two, I thought, my gaze settling on the faint flicker of the lamp. Cultivation was the foundation of survival in this world, and strength was the ultimate currency. The stronger I became, the less subtle I would need to be. A higher cultivation stage would grant me both the leverage to act more openly and the speed to progress further.Leaning back slightly, I allowed my thoughts to wander to the advantages I currently held. My time in the White Room had granted me an extraordinary foundation—a mastery of observation, strategy, and control that had served me well so far. My knowledge of medicine, while rudimentary compared to the divine-like advancements in higher cultivation stages, had proven invaluable in the early stages of my journey.But even as these advantages propelled me forward, I could feel their limits looming on the horizon. As I transitioned further from the mortal realm into the world of true cultivators, the landscape would shift. The medicine I relied on now, derived from principles and methods rooted in the mortal realm, would eventually give way to mystical and divine techniques far beyond my current understanding.And then there were the cultivators themselves. Those at higher stages of cultivation weren't just stronger—they were survivors. Decades, perhaps centuries, of experience, trials, and challenges had forged them into beings whose wisdom and cunning would surpass anything I had encountered so far.
The children I face now—brash, impulsive, and inexperienced—are nothing compared to the adults who rule the higher realms of cultivation. The power they wield, their ability to adapt and counter, will make them far more dangerous than anyone I've encountered so far.
The realization didn't fill me with dread, but with clarity. This period, where my advantages allowed me to maneuver easily, was fleeting. If I didn't establish a strong foundation now—one that could carry me through the inevitable challenges ahead—my progress would stall.I clenched my fists slightly, feeling the faint stirrings of Qi within me. "This is the time," I murmured to myself. "To build a foundation before my advantages disappear."Closing my eyes, I activated the Umbral Absorption Technique, letting the shadow Qi in the air flow into my body with a steady rhythm. The energy was cool and subtle, a whisper of power that threaded through my meridians like a flowing stream. Slowly, I directed the Qi toward my dantian, where it pooled and circulated, growing denser with each cycle.The world around me faded away as I focused entirely on the process. Every distraction, every errant thought, dissolved into the void, leaving only the sensation of Qi coursing through me. The stillness of the night amplified the hum of energy, its flow becoming more pronounced with each passing moment.For hours, I maintained this state, refining and compressing the energy within me. The Qi in my dantian began to churn, building up like a storm ready to break free. The pressure increased steadily, and I guided it carefully, ensuring it didn't overwhelm my control. My breathing slowed, deep and deliberate, as I focused on the critical moment ahead.Then a sudden, resounding pulse burst from my dantian.The Qi surged outward, flooding my meridians with a force that resonated through my entire being. The sensation was overwhelming yet exhilarating—a rush of energy that felt as if my body had been set ablaze with power. My meridians expanded slightly, accommodating the new flow of Qi as it settled into a continuous rhythm.I exhaled slowly, my breath misting faintly in the cool air. The breakthrough to Qi Condensation Stage Two was complete.Opening my eyes, I flexed my fingers experimentally, channeling a small thread of Qi into them. The response was immediate and fluid, far faster than before. Qi now flowed through my meridians permanently, no longer requiring the deliberate activation that had been necessary at Stage One. This new state allowed me to summon and control Qi with speed and precision that felt almost instinctive.The effects on my body were equally profound. The Qi circulating through me had strengthened my physique further, enhancing my stamina, physical endurance, and raw strength. Before, I had already surpassed what was considered exceptional strength on Earth, but now my abilities had entered a realm that no mortal could hope to achieve.Standing, I tested my movements, feeling the fluidity and power in each step. My muscles responded effortlessly, and I could sense the heightened resilience in my body. Even my breathing felt more efficient, my lungs drawing in air with a depth that fueled both body and mind.I concentrated briefly, gathering a small burst of Qi in my palm. With a quick motion, I released it forward, producing a faint explosion of force that rippled through the air. It wasn't particularly strong, but the potential was clear. Such bursts could serve as offensive strikes or even defensive barriers, depending on how I chose to wield them.This is just Stage Two, I thought, the possibilities unfolding in my mind. And yet the gap between mortals and cultivators already feels insurmountable. What heights will the later stages bring?The hum of Qi within me had quieted to a steady undercurrent, a constant reminder of the progress I had made. Satisfied, I extinguished the lamp and prepared for rest.Sliding onto my bed, I let my body relax fully for the first time that night. My thoughts drifted briefly to the steps ahead—the salves, Shen Rong's task, and the further challenges of cultivation. But for now, I allowed myself a rare moment of peace.The room was silent, save for the faint hum of ambient Qi in the air, and the shadows on the walls seemed to deepen as sleep claimed me.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The faint light of dawn filtered through the slats of the window, casting long shadows across my quarters. My eyes opened slowly, the familiar hum of Qi flowing through my meridians greeting me like an old companion.For a moment, I remained still, letting the calm of the early morning settle over me. My body felt stronger and more energized, a lingering effect of breaking through to Qi Condensation Stage Two the night before. Each breath felt deeper and more purposeful, as though my lungs were drawing in more than just air.Rising to my feet, I stretched briefly, the motions fluid and effortless. My bed was left as it was; tidiness here held no meaning beyond practicality. Today would be another step forward, but first, there was something more immediate to attend to—food.The cafeteria for the outer sect disciples was a sprawling yet unadorned hall, its wooden beams and tiled floors giving it a rustic charm. Long tables stretched across the space, flanked by benches that were already half-filled with disciples beginning their morning routines. The air was filled with the warm aroma of rice, steamed buns, and herbal soups.As I entered, the low hum of conversations filled my ears. Most disciples kept to their small cliques, chatting about missions, cultivation, or the occasional sect gossip. The cafeteria was more than just a place to eat—it was a social hub, a place where alliances were formed and rivalries simmered beneath the surface.I moved toward the serving counter, where a middle-aged man with a gruff expression and flour-dusted robes ladled out portions with practiced efficiency. Without a word, I took a tray and accepted a serving of steamed buns, a bowl of rice, and a small dish of pickled vegetables.Spotting an open spot at a table near the corner of the room, I made my way over. As I approached, I noticed a group of disciples already seated, their conversation animated but restrained.One of them, a boy with short-cropped hair and sharp eyes, glanced up as I set my tray down across from him. He looked to be a bit older than me; his build was lean but athletic. Beside him sat a girl with long black hair tied into a simple braid, her expression calm and observant, though her eyes carried a glint of curiosity."You're new," the boy said bluntly, his gaze briefly flicking to the black flame insignia on my robe. "A Novice Alchemist, huh? That's more than impressive for someone who just joined."I met his gaze evenly. "That's correct," I replied, keeping my tone neutral. "And you are?""Jiang Wei," he said, leaning back slightly and crossing his arms. "Outer sect disciple, just like you. I'm in the Smithing Department."The girl beside him offered a small nod. "Lin Mei," she said simply. "Medicine Department.""Pleasure," I said, inclining my head slightly before starting on my meal.Jiang Wei leaned forward again, resting his elbows on the table. "You know, it's rare for someone new to climb ranks that quickly. Most people take months just to get past the basics.""Talent helps," I said, my tone devoid of arrogance, merely stating a fact.He smirked slightly. "Or ambition."Lin Mei gave him a reproachful glance. "Don't mind him," she said. "Jiang is always suspicious of new faces. It's his nature.""Suspiciousness keeps you alive," Jiang countered, his smirk fading into a more serious expression. "This sect isn't exactly friendly to those who stand out too much. Not unless you're strong enough to back it up.""That's a fair assessment," I said, taking a sip of the warm herbal soup. Its earthy flavor was grounding, a subtle reminder of the resources available even to outer disciples.As the conversation lulled, another figure approached our table. He was taller, with a broad frame and an easygoing grin. His robe bore the faint insignia of an Assistant Alchemist, and he carried a tray stacked with twice as much food as mine."Mind if I join?" he asked, not waiting for an answer before sitting beside Jiang Wei. "Name's Zhao Fan. You must be the new Novice Alchemist everyone's talking about."Word spreads quickly, it seemed. I gave a brief nod in acknowledgment. "Ayanokoji Kiyotaka.""Figured," Zhao said, digging into his food with enthusiasm. "It's rare for someone to rise so fast. Makes people curious. You know how it is.""People can be curious all they want," I replied, my tone even. "It doesn't change anything."Zhao laughed, a hearty sound that contrasted with Jiang's quieter demeanor. "I like you already," he said between bites. "Straight to the point. You'll fit right in here—or make some enemies fast. Either way, it'll be fun to watch."Lin Mei frowned slightly but said nothing, her attention shifting to her meal.The rest of breakfast passed with relative ease, the conversation drifting between casual observations about the sect and lighthearted banter. I learned that Jiang Wei specialized in helping to forge weapons for outer disciples, while Lin Mei focused on herbal remedies for minor injuries and ailments. Zhao, despite his apparent lack of refinement, was surprisingly knowledgeable about the nuances of alchemy, often assisting in refining low-grade pills.As I finished the last of my rice, my mind drifted to the tasks ahead. The salves, Shen Rong's assignment, and the continued push for strength loomed on the horizon. For now, however, the morning was a moment of calm—a brief respite before the next steps of the journey.I rose from the table, offering a polite nod to the group. "It was a pleasure," I said. "I'll see you around."Jiang Wei raised an eyebrow but nodded back. "Don't let the sect chew you up too fast, Alchemist."Zhao grinned. "If you ever need a good laugh, you know where to find me."Lin Mei simply gave a small wave, her expression thoughtful.With that, I left the cafeteria, the warm light of the rising sun spilling across the sect grounds. ▬▬ι═══════ﺤThe morning sun was beginning to rise higher in the sky as I made my way to the Alchemy Department. The paths were already bustling with disciples, some hurrying to their respective duties while others engaged in quiet conversations.When I arrived at the department, I found Bai Yun seated at the reception desk, her head bent over a ledger as she efficiently managed the day's assignments. Despite the monotony of her task, she radiated the same calm authority I had come to associate with her."Good morning, Senior Sister," I said, offering a polite bow.She glanced up, a small smile gracing her lips. "Ayanokoji," she greeted. "Here for missions again, I assume?""Of course," I replied. "I'd like to take on two refinement assignments today."She nodded, flipping through the ledger until she found suitable tasks. After a moment, she handed me two slips of parchment. "Both involve refining Shadow Qi Recovery Pills—standard low-grade batches. The required ingredients have been prepared and are ready for collection. You'll find them in the supply room.""Understood," I said, taking the slips.With the assignments secured, I retrieved the necessary ingredients from the supply room, ensuring each component was accounted for before heading to my designated refinement station. The quiet hum of activity in the department was soothing, a steady rhythm that mirrored my own focus.The process of refining the pills was becoming more fluid with each attempt. While still demanding, the familiarity I had gained over the past week allowed me to work more efficiently. The first batch went smoothly, the furnace responding to my precise control of temperature and Qi infusion. The second batch followed suit, and within a few hours, both assignments were completed successfully.I placed the pills into their respective containers and returned to the reception desk, where Bai Yun inspected the results."Consistent quality," she remarked, nodding approvingly. "You're maintaining a solid standard. Keep this up, and you'll be taking on higher-grade assignments before long.""Thank you, Senior Sister," I said, bowing slightly as I handed over the completed work.She recorded the task as completed and handed me the corresponding reward slips. Each mission paid 30 Spirit Stones, bringing my total earnings for the day to 60 Spirit Stones—a respectable sum for an outer sect disciple....With the missions complete, I turned my attention to my next task: salve creation. Using a portion of the ingredients left over from the pill refinement process, along with additional materials I had purchased with my earnings, I set up my workspace in one of the smaller preparation rooms.The rhythmic process of grinding, mixing, and combining ingredients was both methodical and satisfying. Each salve required precision—not just in the choice of ingredients, but in their proportions and preparation. I worked through several types, from wound-healing salves to muscle-relaxing balms, and even a few beauty creams targeted at a niche but lucrative market.The soft scents of herbs and oils filled the room as I worked, each finished product carefully stored in small jars. By the time I finished, a small array of salves was laid out before me, their potential value far greater than the sum of their parts.Next, I made my way to a small general shop located on the outskirts of the sect's market district. The shopkeeper, a wizened man with sharp eyes and a shrewd demeanor, sold an array of basic crafting materials. After a brief negotiation, I purchased several items: sheets of thin metal, small glass tubes, and a set of carving tools.Returning to my quarters, I set to work assembling the tubes for the salves. The process was meticulous, requiring both precision and patience. Each tube was carefully crafted, its interior cleaned and polished to ensure it would preserve the salves' quality.Once the tubes were prepared, I filled them with the various salves I had created earlier. Using a brush and a small container of ink, I labeled each tube with the name of the salve and its intended purpose. Finally, I inscribed a small, unique symbol onto each tube—a simple yet elegant design that would serve as my logo, a mark by which my products would be recognized.The symbol, a stylized shadow blooming into a lotus, was chosen deliberately. It represented the fusion of my cultivation path with my alchemical aspirations.As I stepped back to survey my work, a faint sense of satisfaction settled over me. The salves, now neatly stored in their new containers, were ready for distribution. With each step forward, my plans were beginning to take shape.▬▬ι═══════ﺤWith the salves prepared and neatly stored in their containers, I decided to return to the Alchemy Department to see if there were any more missions available for the day. The rhythmic bustle of the department greeted me as I entered, and made my way to the reception desk, where Bai Yun was still seated, her pen moving deftly across the ledger.She glanced up as I approached, her sharp eyes catching mine with a flicker of recognition."Back so soon?" she asked, setting her pen down. "You're certainly diligent.""I'd like to take on another mission, if there are any remaining," I said, offering a slight bow.Bai Yun gave me an amused smile before flipping through the ledger. She scanned the pages carefully, her expression shifting to a faint frown. After a moment, she closed the book and shook her head."I'm afraid all the available missions for today have been taken," she said. "The department's been unusually busy lately, and the demand for alchemists—Novice Alchemists especially—has surged. You'll have to wait until tomorrow for new assignments."I nodded in understanding. Completing additional missions would have not only bolstered my earnings but also provided more opportunities to refine my skills."Thank you, Senior Sister," I said, straightening. "I appreciate you checking."Bai Yun studied me for a moment, her expression softening slightly. "You've made significant progress since joining the department," she said. "But don't forget to pace yourself. Alchemy is as much about endurance as it is about precision. Burn yourself out too quickly, and you'll lose focus when it matters most."Her advice was sound, and I inclined my head in acknowledgment. "I'll keep that in mind."Bai Yun's gaze lingered on me for a moment longer, her expression unreadable before it softened into something almost contemplative. She tapped her pen lightly against the desk, as though deliberating over a thought. Finally, she spoke, her tone calm but tinged with curiosity."Ayanokoji," she began, her voice quieter now, "you've been progressing well, especially for someone so new. Your refinement work shows promise, and I've noticed you take every opportunity to learn. So, I have a question for you."I met her gaze, intrigued but cautious. "Yes, Senior Sister?"She leaned forward slightly, her elbows resting on the desk. "How would you feel about observing my Apprentice Alchemist examination tomorrow?"The words caught me slightly off guard, though my expression remained impassive. This was unexpected—not only because such invitations were rare, but also because examinations were intensely personal events. The pressure of performing under scrutiny could easily cause even a skilled alchemist to falter.Bai Yun seemed to anticipate my surprise. She gave a faint smile and continued, "This isn't something we offer lightly, nor is it common. Having someone observe during an examination can introduce stress and increase the risk of failure. That's why most alchemists would never consider it."She paused, studying my reaction carefully before adding, "But I believe there's value in seeing what lies ahead. You've demonstrated discipline and potential, and I think witnessing an examination at this stage could give you insights that will prove invaluable later."I processed her words carefully. This was more than an invitation—it was an opportunity, and one that could provide me with an advantage. Watching someone as skilled as Bai Yun refine pills under the pressure of an examination would reveal not only the techniques required for the next rank but also the mental fortitude needed to succeed."I would be honored," I said, bowing slightly. "Thank you for offering such a rare opportunity, Senior Sister."Bai Yun nodded, her faint smile returning. "Good. The examination will take place tomorrow morning in the central refinement hall. Be there at dawn. I'll make the arrangements for your presence."Her confidence was apparent, but so was her determination. This wasn't just a gesture of goodwill; it was a calculated decision on her part."I'll make sure not to disrupt the process," I assured her.Her smile widened slightly. "I'm not worried about that. I trust your composure. But remember, this is a learning experience for you. Pay attention to every detail, and don't hesitate to reflect on what you see. The path to becoming an Apprentice Alchemist is demanding, and understanding the challenges early will serve you well.""I will," I replied, straightening."Good," she said, picking up her pen again. "Now, you should focus on your preparations for tomorrow. And don't forget what I said about pacing yourself."With a final nod, I turned and left the reception hall. The midday sun greeted me as I stepped outside, the warmth a stark contrast to the cool focus I carried within.Walking back toward my quarters, my thoughts lingered on the upcoming examination.▬▬ι═══════ﺤReaching my quarters, I slid the door shut behind me, the soft thud echoing in the stillness of the room. The quiet was a welcome contrast to the steady buzz of the Alchemy Department, offering a moment to gather my thoughts. Sitting at the low desk, I reached for one of the journals I had received upon becoming a Novice Alchemist. Its cover was plain, but the pages within held the promise of deeper understanding—details about what lay beyond the ranks of High-Grade pills and the position of Journeyman Alchemist.Opening the journal, I began to read, my eyes scanning the neat, meticulous script. The text detailed the advanced grades of pills, each representing a leap in skill, resources, and knowledge:Eclipse-Grade Pills (>20% Impurities): These pills are considered premium-quality, their effects powerful and reliable. They are frequently sought after by cultivators attempting to break through stages or needing sustained recovery. Crafting them requires a refined control of Qi and flame, as well as an intricate understanding of ingredient synergy.Ascendant-Grade Pills (>10% Impurities): These pills border on the miraculous, their potency far surpassing those of lower grades. They are exceedingly rare, their creation limited to only the most skilled alchemists. Their immense benefits come with minimal side effects, making them invaluable treasures in the cultivation world.Eternal-Grade Pills (0% Impurities): The stuff of legends. These pills, of absolute purity, are so potent and transformative that their effects are said to alter destinies. However, crafting them requires unparalleled skill, spiritual insight, and rare materials that are almost impossible to obtain. Their creators—if they exist—are revered across the cultivation world.As I continued reading, the journal transitioned to the ranks of alchemists, explaining the progression beyond Journeyman Alchemist:Adept Alchemist: Specialists in crafting Eclipse-Grade pills, Adept Alchemists are recognized for their creativity and innovation in developing new pill recipes. They often mentor apprentices and hold significant sway in the operations of alchemical departments. Their insignia is violet, a mark of their advanced rank. From what I had observed, Elder Lu likely held this title, given the violet insignia on his robes.Master Alchemist: Masters of Ascendant-Grade pills, these alchemists have transcended conventional techniques, creating unique formulas and solving the most complex alchemical challenges. Their reputations extend far beyond their sects, earning respect and influence in the wider cultivation world.Furnace Lord: The pinnacle of alchemical achievement. These legendary figures are capable of crafting Eternal-Grade pills, their mastery of flame, Qi manipulation, and spiritual insight unmatched. Furnace Lords are incredibly rare, their creations priceless, and their names etched into the annals of cultivation history.Closing the journal for a moment, I let the weight of the information sink in. The sheer scope of the alchemical hierarchy was staggering. Each step upward wasn't just a matter of technical skill—it was a transformation, a redefinition of what it meant to be an alchemist.The journey from Novice Alchemist to even Apprentice Alchemist felt monumental, but it also sparked something within me. The challenge was immense, but so were the possibilities. Each rank, each grade of pill, represented not just a goal but a stepping stone to understanding the vastness of this world.As I sat there, contemplating the path ahead, a sharp knock at my door broke through my thoughts.Rising from the desk, I walked across the room and opened the door. Standing there was Shen Rong, his posture stiff and his expression still tinged with fear. Though he had composed himself outwardly, the faint tremble in his hands as he clutched a bag gave him away."Come in," I said simply, stepping aside to let him enter.He hesitated for the briefest moment before stepping into the room, his movements cautious. His eyes darted around the space before settling back on me. The fear was still there—sharp and immediate—but I knew that would change over time. Fear alone wasn't sustainable; it would evolve, first into compliance, then into reverence, especially once he started to see tangible benefits from following me.Shen Rong held out the bag, his fingers trembling slightly. "I... I've come to report, Senior," he said, his voice low.I gestured for him to continue."At first, some of the disciples were skeptical," he admitted, his words quick and nervous, "but once a few tried the salves, the word spread fast. They sold out entirely before the day was over."I nodded, unsurprised. Quality sells itself, and the salves I had crafted were far superior to the subpar products circulating among the outer disciples.Shen Rong opened the bag, revealing a neat pile of Spirit Stones. "This is the total earnings from the sales—300 Spirit Stones," he said, his voice faltering slightly.Taking the bag, I counted the contents briefly before extracting a smaller pouch containing 30 Spirit Stones. I handed it to him."Your share," I said, my tone even.Shen Rong blinked in surprise, hesitating before accepting the pouch. "T-thank you, Senior," he stammered, bowing his head."Don't thank me yet," I replied. "This is only the beginning. You've done well so far, but there's more to do."From the corner of the room, I retrieved another storage bag containing the newly prepared tubes of salves, now labeled with the logo I had inscribed earlier. The neat, professional packaging gave the products an air of legitimacy and exclusivity."These are the next batch," I said, handing the bag to him. "Distribute these the same way, but this time, I want you to lower the price slightly."Shen Rong looked up, bewildered. "Lower the price? But... the disciples already buy them eagerly at the current rate. Won't that reduce our profits?"I met his gaze, my tone calm but firm. "Lowering the price will force rival sellers to do the same," I explained. "Their products, already inferior in quality, won't be able to compete with ours in value. They'll either take the hit to their profits or lose the market entirely."I allowed the weight of my words to settle before continuing. "When customers see that we're offering better quality for less, they'll naturally gravitate toward us. Once we dominate the market, we'll have the flexibility to control prices—and by then, their trust in our products will be unshakable."Shen Rong nodded slowly, the logic sinking in. Though he still seemed hesitant, the prospect of further success outweighed his doubts. "Understood, Senior," he said, bowing deeply. "I'll ensure it's done as you've instructed."I waved a hand dismissively. "Good. Remember—discretion is key. Ensure nothing links back to me, and handle everything quietly.""Yes, Senior," he said again, clutching the bag tightly."Now, go," I said, my tone softening slightly. "You've done well so far. Don't falter now."After Shen Rong left, the door closing softly behind him, I returned to my desk. The bag of Spirit Stones sat beside the journal, a tangible measure of progress. The salves were just the first step—a means to establish influence and resources within the sect.Fear is a powerful tool, I mused, leaning back in my chair. But loyalty built on mutual benefit lasts longer. Shen Rong will see that working with me is in his best interest, and as his reliance on me grows, so will his commitment.The next steps were already taking shape in my mind, each one building upon the foundation I had carefully laid. The success of the salves was only the beginning—a modest venture that would soon evolve into larger operations. With the resources they provided, I could accelerate both my cultivation and my alchemical pursuits, propelling myself further along this path.My gaze drifted to the bag of Spirit Stones sitting on the desk. Three hundred low-grade Spirit Stones were a tangible testament to the progress I'd made in such a short time, but their weight—both literal and figurative—posed a logistical inconvenience.Tomorrow, I decided, I'll exchange them for three mid-grade Spirit Stones. It was a logical step. Carrying a large quantity of low-grade Spirit Stones wasn't practical, and mid-grade stones, with their condensed energy, would be far easier to manage. Such stones were also more versatile for higher-level transactions, a necessity as my plans grew in scale.For now, though, the day was drawing to a close. The faint hum of ambient Qi in the air, usually invigorating, now served as a gentle reminder to rest and recover.Sliding the Spirit Stones into a secure pouch, I set them aside and extinguished the lamp on the desk. The room darkened, illuminated only by the faint moonlight filtering through the window. I lay down on my bed, the cool fabric grounding me as I closed my eyes.▬▬ι═══════ﺤThe faint chill of the pre-dawn air greeted me as I stepped out of my quarters, the sect grounds cloaked in darkness. The stars above were faintly visible, their light dimmed by the ever-present haze that hung over the Nocturnis Vale. Most disciples were still asleep, their quarters dark and silent, but I had risen early with purpose.Today, I would witness Bai Yun's Apprentice Alchemist examination—a rare opportunity to observe the process of refining a Mid-Grade pill.The paths leading to the Alchemy Department were eerily quiet, the usual hum of activity replaced by the soft rustle of leaves. My steps were steady, and my mind focused on the significance of the day.When I reached the department, the large doors were already slightly ajar, the faint glow of internal lanterns spilling out into the darkness. Stepping inside, I found the familiar scents of herbs and reagents mingling in the air, a comforting backdrop to the structured calm of the department.Near the reception desk stood Bai Yun, her figure illuminated by the warm light of a nearby lantern. Despite the early hour, she was fully composed, her black flame insignia catching the light as she inspected a ledger in her hands."Good morning, Senior Sister," I said, offering a polite bow as I approached.She looked up, her eyes meeting mine. A faint smile curved her lips, though her expression remained serious. "Ayanokoji," she greeted. "You're earlier than I expected.""I thought it would be best to arrive early and prepare myself," I replied evenly. "Thank you again for allowing me to observe your examination."Her smile deepened slightly. "Make sure you pay attention to every detail—the process, the pacing, the control. Refining a Mid-Grade pill is vastly different from what you've worked on so far," she said, closing the ledger and setting it aside."I understand," I assured her. "I'll observe carefully."She nodded, her expression turning more thoughtful. "The pill I'll be refining is a Qi Condensation Pill," she explained as we began walking toward the examination hall. "It's specifically designed for cultivators in the Qi Condensation stage, providing them with a significant boost of condensed energy. The challenge lies in maintaining the potency of the ingredients while minimizing impurities. Even a slight misstep can lead to failure."Her tone carried a calm confidence, but I could sense the underlying focus in her words. This wasn't just another task—it was a test of her skill and composure.The central refinement hall was dimly lit, its high ceilings and inscribed walls giving it an air of solemnity. At its center stood a refinement furnace, its dark surface gleaming faintly in the lantern light.Several senior alchemists and examiners were already present, their robes marked with insignias denoting their ranks. Among them was Elder Lu, his violet-accented robes distinguishing him as an Adept Alchemist. His presence carried an understated authority, his expression neutral as he observed the proceedings.Bai Yun stepped forward, bowing deeply to the gathered examiners. "Seniors," she said, her tone respectful, "I am ready to begin."Elder Lu inclined his head slightly. "Proceed, Bai Yun. Show us the depth of your skill."Bai Yun turned to me, her gaze steady. "You may observe from there," she said, gesturing to a designated spot at the edge of the hall. "Stay silent and watch carefully.""Understood, Senior Sister," I replied, moving to the indicated position.From my vantage point, I had a clear view of Bai Yun's preparation. The sheer number of ingredients laid out before her was far greater than what I had worked with in my earlier recipes, a testament to the complexity of the Qi Condensation Pill. Each ingredient had its own unique properties, and Bai Yun treated them accordingly, her movements fluid and precise.Some ingredients, like the Spirit Root, were carefully cut into uniform pieces, their surfaces clean and unblemished to ensure consistent potency. Others, like the Shadowmint Leaves, had their essence extracted through pressing, the vibrant liquid collected in a small vial that shimmered faintly under the light.Certain materials, such as the Crimson Flame Resin, were heated slightly over a controlled flame to soften their rigid structure, while the Silver Lotus Seeds were finely grated into a powder, their delicate nature requiring a steady and practiced hand. Every action she performed seemed calculated, each movement a deliberate step in preserving the purity and efficacy of the ingredients.Once all the materials were processed and arranged neatly on the preparation table, Bai Yun approached the furnace. With a calm breath, she placed her hand on the ignition crystal, channeling a steady flow of Qi to ignite the flames. The blue fire roared to life, casting its ethereal glow across the hall and reflecting in the polished surface of the furnace.Bai Yun adjusted the heat with expert precision, the flickering flames stabilizing into a controlled burn. From my position, I could see her focus sharpen as she began the critical phase of the refinement process: integrating the ingredients into the furnace.The first ingredient, the powdered Spirit Root, was added slowly. Bai Yun's Qi enveloped the flames, ensuring they didn't surge or destabilize as the powder dissolved into the furnace's core. The energy from the Spirit Root mingled with the flames, creating a faint shimmer that rippled across the surface of the fire.Next came the Shadowmint Extract, poured in delicate streams at measured intervals. The liquid hissed softly as it made contact with the heat, releasing a faint black vapor that swirled upward. Bai Yun's Qi guided the vapor, ensuring it didn't disperse too quickly and was properly absorbed into the mixture.Each ingredient was added in sequence, each requiring precise timing and careful control. Some, like the softened Crimson Flame Resin, had to be added quickly to prevent overheating, while others, like the grated Silver Lotus Seeds, were sprinkled over time to allow gradual integration.The complexity of the process was staggering. Each ingredient interacted differently with the flames and the Qi flowing through the furnace, and Bai Yun's ability to manage these interactions was nothing short of masterful. She made subtle adjustments throughout the process—altering the temperature with a quick flick of her fingers, infusing the flames with varying amounts of Qi to maintain balance, and occasionally tilting the furnace lid to release excess heat or vapor.Her concentration never wavered, her hands moving with the confidence of someone who had performed this process countless times. Even as the flames flickered and the mixture within the furnace began to churn, she remained composed, her Qi flowing steadily as she guided the refinement.As the final ingredient, the Condensed Starflower Petals, was added, the room seemed to hold its breath. The petals glowed faintly as they dissolved into the mixture, their energy infusing the pill base with a brilliance that radiated from the furnace.Bai Yun's control was on full display as she stabilized the mixture, her Qi weaving through the flames to ensure that every element harmonized perfectly. The energy within the furnace pulsed rhythmically, a sign that the ingredients were nearing complete integration.From my position, I couldn't help but note the sheer skill involved in this process. The timing, the precision, the unwavering focus—it was a stark reminder of the gap between our ranks. Bai Yun's ability to manage the complexities of the Qi Condensation Pill was a testament to her expertise, a level of mastery I did not have yet.The flames continued to subside, their ethereal blue glow dimming until they flickered softly at the base of the furnace. Inside, the pill base had solidified, a faint shimmering hue emanating from within—a stark contrast to the dull, uneven appearance of the low-grade pills I had refined in my own practice.Bai Yun exhaled slowly, her focus unbroken as she moved to complete the final stage. Placing both hands on the edges of the furnace, she channeled a precise flow of Qi into the mixture, stabilizing the pills as they began to take their final shape. The air around her seemed to shift subtly, charged with a quiet intensity as the process neared its conclusion.With a sharp yet controlled motion, she extinguished the flames entirely. A soft hiss escaped the furnace as it cooled, the faint shimmer of the completed pills visible through the cracks in the lid. Bai Yun stepped back, her expression calm but tinged with a trace of satisfaction.She reached for a small pair of tongs and carefully lifted the furnace lid, revealing a neatly arranged batch of Qi Condensation Pills. Their surfaces were smooth, their faint shimmer a testament to their superior quality. Even at a glance, it was clear they were leagues above the rough, uneven pills typically seen among Novice Alchemists.The examiners, including Elder Lu, approached to inspect the results. Bai Yun retrieved a single pill from the batch and placed it onto a small, circular purity-testing device. The device emitted a faint hum as it analyzed the pill, its surface glowing with a series of shifting runes.After a few tense moments, the result appeared in the form of a numerical display: 63% impurity.A murmur of approval rippled through the gathered examiners. Though it fell short of the threshold for High-Grade, the result was still exceptional for a Mid-Grade pill. Bai Yun's performance had clearly demonstrated her skill, her control pushing the refinement process to the upper limits of her current rank.From my vantage point, I observed the scene carefully, my mind dissecting the significance of the result. A pill with only 63% impurity was a testament to Bai Yun's expertise—one step closer, and it would have been classified as High-Grade.Why is she only undertaking the Apprentice Alchemist examination now? I wondered, my thoughts turning over the question. Her skill was already approaching the standard of a Journeyman Alchemist, which required consistent refinement of pills with impurities below 60%. Perhaps she had delayed her examination for strategic reasons—waiting until she was confident enough to exceed the expectations for her current rank.Elder Lu stepped forward, his expression neutral but his tone carrying an undercurrent of respect. "Bai Yun," he said, his deep voice cutting through the quiet. "Your refinement today was exemplary. The precision and control you displayed, especially in balancing volatile ingredients, is commendable. You have proven yourself ready to advance to the rank of Apprentice Alchemist."Bai Yun bowed deeply. "Thank you, Elder Lu. Your guidance has been invaluable in my progress."Elder Lu nodded, his gaze steady as he reached into his robe and withdrew a small, intricately carved wooden box. The polished surface gleamed under the chamber's flickering light. With a simple motion, he opened the box to reveal a silver flame insignia. It was masterfully crafted, the flame's delicate edges catching the light and casting shimmering reflections, as if it were alive. The silver symbol denoted her rank—a significant milestone on the alchemical path."Step forward," Elder Lu instructed.Bai Yun obeyed without hesitation, her movements calm but purposeful. She came to a stop before the elder and lowered her head in respect. Elder Lu carefully lifted the insignia from the box, its weight symbolizing more than just her achievement—it was a mark of trust, responsibility, and recognition within the Nightshade Monastery."With this, you are officially recognized as an Apprentice Alchemist," he announced, his voice resonating with authority. "Bear this symbol with pride and dignity, but also with the understanding that your responsibilities have increased. Many will seek your expertise, and your conduct will reflect not only on yourself but on the department as a whole.""I understand, Elder Lu," Bai Yun said solemnly.He fastened the insignia to the right side of her robe, where the black flame had previously marked her status as a Novice. The silver flame shimmered brightly against the dark fabric, standing out with unmistakable clarity. Bai Yun straightened, her posture regal, though a spark of emotion glinted in her usually composed eyes—pride, tempered by a sense of duty."You have earned this," Elder Lu said, his voice softening slightly. "Continue to hone your craft and seek knowledge. Alchemy is a lifelong pursuit, and there is no true mastery—only endless refinement."Bai Yun gave a deep bow once more. "Thank you, Elder Lu. I will continue to strive for excellence."Elder Lu gave a curt nod before turning his attention to the other Alchemists. "This concludes the examination," he announced. "Return to your duties."The examiners dispersed, their quiet murmurs of approval filling the room as they left. Bai Yun turned to me, her expression as composed as ever but with a subtle light of accomplishment in her eyes."You watched carefully, I assume?" she asked, her tone calm but expectant."Yes, Senior Sister," I replied. "Your control over the flames and Qi infusion was remarkable. The precision with which you managed the timing and interactions of the ingredients was a lesson in itself."She gave a faint nod, seemingly satisfied with my observation. "Good. Pay attention to those subtleties—especially the way each ingredient interacts with the others. Those nuances will make the difference as you progress.""I'll keep that in mind," I said, bowing slightly.As we left the central hall together, Bai Yun's posture was as confident as ever, her promotion now official.The pre-dawn chill lingered in the air as Bai Yun and I walked side by side, leaving the Alchemy Department behind. The sect grounds were still shrouded in the quiet stillness of early morning, the only sounds the faint rustle of leaves and the occasional distant chirp of birds awakening. The faint light of the rising sun cast long shadows, softening the sharp lines of the stone pathways.Bai Yun broke the silence, glancing at me with a faint smile. "You seemed deep in thought back there," she said casually, her voice warm yet curious.I returned her gaze evenly. "The process was intricate. I was reflecting on the knowledge I gained from observing you."Her smile deepened slightly, the faintest trace of amusement in her eyes. "Knowledge alone isn't enough, you know. Understanding the way behind each step, that's where the real learning begins."I nodded. "True. Watching you refine the Qi Condensation Pill showed me more than the technical steps—it demonstrated the importance of adapting under pressure. I'll have to internalize that if I'm to progress."She chuckled softly. "Spoken like someone wise beyond their years. You remind me of my own early days here—always observing, always calculating. Though," she added with a teasing edge, "I think you might be even quieter than I was.""Silence allows for observation," I replied. "Words are only useful when they serve a purpose."Bai Yun laughed lightly at that, her expression softening. "I'll take that as a compliment," she said. "But there's more to life here than observation and calculation. Even the most dedicated alchemists need a moment to breathe."The warmth in her tone carried a quiet wisdom, a reminder that even amidst relentless pursuit, balance was necessary.We walked in silence for a moment longer before she turned to me again, her expression thoughtful. "It just occurred to me—we've been up for a long time and haven't eaten yet."I glanced toward the faint light spilling from the distant cafeteria. "It seems that's the case."Bai Yun smiled, a touch of playfulness returning to her features. "Why don't we fix that? Join me for breakfast."The offer was unexpected, but I inclined my head slightly. "I'd be honored."Without another word, she turned and began leading the way. I followed her through the winding paths of the outer sect, the familiar stone walkways giving way to a more refined path of polished marble as we approached the inner court.The transition was subtle but unmistakable. The air felt different—calmer yet charged with an undercurrent of power. The surroundings were meticulously maintained, with lush gardens and elegant structures standing in contrast to the simpler, functional designs of the outer sect.As we neared the entrance to the inner court, I noticed two inner sect disciples standing guard. They glanced at us but made no move to stop us. Their eyes lingered briefly on Bai Yun's insignia before shifting back to me with mild curiosity.As if sensing my unspoken thoughts, Bai Yun spoke without breaking stride. "You're probably wondering why I can bring you into the inner court so easily," she said, her tone conversational."It crossed my mind," I admitted.She glanced back at me, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "It's not that I can bring just anyone here. But you're part of the same department, and more importantly, because you're a Novice Alchemist. Even as a Novice Alchemist, your rank is enough to warrant respect. Alchemists hold a unique status in the sect and the wider cultivation world. Pills are a necessity for cultivation, and angering an alchemist means losing access to the resources they provide. Most people understand that."Her tone shifted slightly, a mix of amusement and exasperation creeping in. "Of course, there are exceptions—some are too arrogant or foolish to see the value in diplomacy. If they think they're stronger than you, they'll look down on you. If they think you're useful, they'll flatter you shamelessly."I nodded slightly, absorbing her words. A world driven by power, yet bound by practicality, I thought. The importance of alchemists in this hierarchy was becoming increasingly clear, and I resolved to wield that status wisely....We entered the inner court cafeteria, a grand hall with polished floors and intricate carvings along the walls. The scent of richly prepared food filled the air, a sharp contrast to the simpler fare of the outer sect.Bai Yun led me to a table near the large windows, where the morning light streamed in, illuminating the space with a soft glow. As we sat down, a group of young women approached, their robes marking them as inner sect disciples."Bai Yun!" one of them called, her voice warm and familiar. She was tall and graceful, with sharp eyes and a confident demeanor. The others followed closely behind, their expressions ranging from friendly curiosity to open interest as they glanced at me."You're up early," the tall one continued, her gaze flicking between us. "And with company, no less."Bai Yun smiled, gesturing for them to join us. "Ayanokoji, these are my friends—Su Mei, Lin Qing, and Cheng Rou."Each of them inclined their heads in greeting, though their attention lingered on me with open curiosity. Su Mei, the tall one with sharp crimson eyes, assessed me with a faint smirk. Her striking red hair and confident demeanor exuded both elegance and danger. "A Novice Alchemist?" she asked, her tone laced with interest. "And so young, too. What's your name?""Ayanokoji Kiyotaka," I replied evenly, meeting her gaze without hesitation.Lin Qing, a petite woman with bright turquoise eyes and a playful smile, chimed in, "Ayanokoji, huh? That's quite a serious look you've got there. Are all Novice Alchemists this composed?" Her twin buns adorned with teal ribbons added a whimsical charm to her lively presence."Composure is a requirement in alchemy," I said simply.Cheng Rou, who had been quietly observing, suddenly leaned closer, her expression amused. Her soft blonde waves framed her delicate face, and her serene violet eyes held a faint glimmer of mischief, making her gentle demeanor all the more intriguing. "And modest, too," she teased. "I like him already."Her comment earned a burst of laughter from the other women. Lin Qing, the playful one, leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand. "You know," she began, her voice taking on a mock-serious tone, "it's rare to find someone so composed at your age, Ayanokoji. Most boys would already be flustered with all this attention."Su Mei smirked, her sharp eyes glinting with mischief. "Maybe he's just playing hard to get," she said. "What do you think, Cheng Rou? Do we have a little heartbreaker on our hands?"Cheng Rou chuckled, her amusement deepening as she glanced at Bai Yun. "You brought us a fascinating guest, Bai Yun. Where did you find him? And more importantly, can we keep him?"Bai Yun sighed, though her expression remained gentle. "Alright, enough," she said, her voice firm but not harsh. "He's still young, and he just joined the sect. Don't scare him off."Lin Qing raised an eyebrow, her playful grin undeterred. "Young? That doesn't mean much here, Bai Yun. You know plenty of boys start looking for wives by sixteen—or younger if they're ambitious."Cheng Rou nodded, her teasing tone taking on a thoughtful edge. "True. Some even manage to find multiple wives if they're talented enough. Polygamy isn't exactly uncommon."The mention of polygamy gave me pause, though I maintained my composed demeanor. Polygamy is allowed here? I mused silently. Well, that shouldn't surprise me. In a world where cultivators can travel at Mach 2 and live for centuries, conventional societal norms would inevitably shift.Cheng Rou seemed to notice my thoughtful expression and leaned closer again, her grin widening. "What's the matter, Ayanokoji? Thinking about your future harem already?""I'm simply observing the conversation," I replied evenly, which only seemed to amuse her more."Observing, huh?" Lin Qing teased. "You're going to be dangerous once you grow up. I can tell."Before the teasing could continue further, the atmosphere shifted subtly. The light murmur of voices in the cafeteria quieted slightly as a new figure entered the room. My attention, like that of everyone else, was drawn to the woman who had just stepped in.She was strikingly beautiful. Her long, flowing hair the color of midnight, and her presence commanding in a way that set her apart. But what truly distinguished her was her attire: her robes bore midnight accents, a sign of her status as a core disciple—someone who had reached the Foundation Establishment Realm.The woman's sharp eyes swept across the room, her gaze landing briefly on our table. A faint, knowing smile touched her lips as she approached, her steps measured and deliberate."Bai Yun," she greeted, her voice smooth and cool. "I thought I recognized your voice.""Elder Sister Yin Yue," Bai Yun replied, inclining her head respectfully. "It's been a while."Yin Yue's midnight eyes swept over Bai Yun, her expression calm but observant. Her gaze paused briefly on the silver flame insignia displayed prominently on Bai Yun's robes. A flicker of recognition crossed her face, followed by a small, approving smile."Apprentice Alchemist," Yin Yue said, her tone carrying genuine respect. "Congratulations, Bai Yun. That's no small achievement."Bai Yun's composure softened slightly, a faint hint of pride coloring her expression. "Thank you, Elder Sister. It's a step forward, but there's still much to learn."The acknowledgment didn't go unnoticed by Bai Yun's friends. Su Mei, who had been quietly observing until now, straightened, her sharp eyes widening slightly. "Wait," she said, her gaze darting to the silver flame insignia as if noticing it for the first time. "You passed the examination?"Lin Qing, ever the lively one, gasped dramatically, clasping her hands together. "Bai Yun! Why didn't you tell us? That's amazing!"Cheng Rou's eyes narrowed in mock accusation, though her lips curled into a warm smile. "You've been holding out on us, haven't you? Sneaking off to become an Apprentice Alchemist without saying a word."Bai Yun gave a small laugh, shaking her head. "It wasn't intentional. Things have been busy, and I didn't want to make a fuss.""Well, we're making a fuss now," Lin Qing declared, her voice filled with playful enthusiasm. "This is worth celebrating. It's not every day someone from our circle advances to Apprentice Alchemist."Despite their teasing, the warmth and sincerity in their words were unmistakable. There was no trace of envy, only genuine happiness for their friend's success.Yin Yue watched the exchange with mild amusement, her lips curving into a faint smile. "It seems you have good company, Bai Yun," she remarked before her gaze shifted to me. Her midnight eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity, appraising me with the same sharpness that had lingered on Bai Yun's insignia."And who is this?" she asked, her voice calm but with a faint edge of interest."This is Ayanokoji Kiyotaka," Bai Yun said, gesturing toward me. "A Novice Alchemist who recently joined the department."Yin Yue's expression shifted subtly, a flicker of intrigue crossing her face. "A Novice Alchemist at such a young age?" she remarked. Her sharp eyes seemed to pierce through me, and I felt the faint ripple of her spiritual sense brushing against me.Then, as if sensing something unexpected, her brows lifted slightly. "And a Qi Condensation Stage Two cultivator," she added, her tone carrying a note of surprise.Her words hung in the air like a thunderclap.Bai Yun, standing beside me, stiffened visibly. Her head snapped toward me, her eyes wide. "Stage Two?" she repeated, her voice a mixture of disbelief and astonishment. "But you just joined the sect less than two weeks ago!"The other inner sect disciples around the table fell silent, their earlier teasing replaced by a collective look of surprise. Su Mei leaned forward, her sharp eyes narrowing as if trying to see the evidence for herself."You were mortal when you arrived, weren't you?" Bai Yun pressed, her tone insistent. "You had no cultivation base at all."I nodded slightly, my expression calm despite the attention. "That's correct. I broke through to Stage One shortly after the entrance examination and recently advanced to Stage Two.""Recently?" Bai Yun's voice rose slightly, a rare crack in her composed demeanor. "How recent?""Yesterday," I said simply, my tone as measured as ever.The table fell silent again, the weight of my words sinking in.Yin Yue's gaze never wavered, her expression a mix of intrigue and contemplation. "In less than two weeks, you've gone from a mortal to a Stage Two cultivator," she said, her tone even but carrying an undercurrent of awe. "That level of progress is... extraordinary. Even among prodigies."Lin Qing, ever the playful one, broke the silence with a low whistle. "I knew he was interesting, but this? Bai Yun, are you sure you're not hoarding some secret genius in your department?"Cheng Rou leaned back, her brows raised in clear surprise. "At this rate, he'll be overtaking most outer sect disciples within a month. This is..." She trailed off, shaking her head.Bai Yun, still visibly processing the revelation, frowned slightly. "You didn't tell me," she said, her tone softer now, as though she were trying to reconcile this new information."There was no need," I replied evenly. "Cultivation is a personal matter. Announcing breakthroughs serves no purpose."Yin Yue's lips curved into a faint smile, her earlier surprise tempered into a look of quiet acknowledgment. "Practical and disciplined," she said, nodding slightly. "You're not just progressing rapidly—you're doing so with restraint. That's even more impressive."Bai Yun finally let out a soft exhalation, shaking her head with a rueful smile. "You really are full of surprises, aren't you?"Su Mei leaned forward again, her interest reignited. "You've managed to climb to Stage Two so quickly," she mused. "Is it pure talent, or do you have some secret technique you're hiding?""It's a combination of factors," I replied, my tone neutral. "The sect's cultivation technique, an abundance of Spirit Stones, and disciplined focus."Cheng Rou smirked, her earlier teasing tone returning. "Disciplined focus, huh? And here I thought we'd finally cracked that stoic expression of yours. Guess we still have some work to do."Lin Qing grinned, raising an eyebrow at Bai Yun. "If this keeps up, Bai Yun, you'll be playing catch-up with him soon enough. Maybe we should start treating him like the senior here."Bai Yun rolled her eyes but smiled. "He still has a lot to learn," she said, her tone returning to its usual composed warmth. "Let's not inflate his ego too much."Yin Yue, still standing with an air of quiet authority, tilted her head slightly. "Ego doesn't seem to be his weakness," she said. "If anything, his focus is a strength that will take him far. Just be careful, Ayanokoji," she added, her voice dropping slightly. "Progress this fast will attract attention—not all of it good."Her words carried a weight that lingered, a subtle reminder of the dangers inherent in standing out too much."I'll keep that in mind," I said, inclining my head slightly in acknowledgment.Yin Yue's midnight gaze lingered on me for a moment longer before she turned to Bai Yun. "He's impressive," she said simply. "You'll have your hands full, keeping up with this one."With that, she stepped away, her robes flowing behind her as she left the cafeteria, her presence fading like a shadow dissipating into the light.The moment she was gone, the others returned to their earlier banter, though their remarks carried an added edge of respect now. Bai Yun, however, remained pensive, her sharp eyes studying me as though trying to piece together a puzzle."You're still full of mysteries," she said quietly, her voice thoughtful. "But one thing's clear—you're not just any ordinary disciple.""Ordinary paths lead to ordinary results," I replied, my tone calm.Bai Yun smiled faintly at that, though the flicker of curiosity in her eyes remained. "Let's finish our meal," she said, steering the conversation back to lighter topics.As we ate, the weight of Yin Yue's words lingered in my mind. Progress this fast would attract attention—not all of it good.But that's fine, I thought, maintaining my composure as the conversation continued around me. Attention is inevitable. What matters is how I use it to my advantage.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The days following my encounter with the inner sect girls were a blur of effort. Every spare moment was poured into my cultivation and expanding my salve business. The demand had grown exponentially, with disciples clamoring for products that outperformed anything available from their usual sources. Healing salves, pain relievers, and even skincare remedies—all of them were gaining traction among the outer sect disciples.For now, I had put my alchemical pursuits on hold. Alchemy was an expensive discipline, requiring resources and capital I didn't yet possess in abundance. The salves, however, were my stepping stones. They were affordable to produce and yielded consistent profits. But despite my meticulous planning, one glaring problem emerged: I couldn't keep up with the demand alone.Ingredient preparation was by far the most time-consuming part of the process. Gathering, cleaning, grinding, and processing herbs demanded precision and patience. If I was going to scale my operations, I needed help—but finding someone I could trust, or better yet, someone who didn't even know who they were helping, was a challenge.Among the disciples I had met, only one seemed like a viable candidate: Lin Mei. She worked in the Medicine Department and had a calm, focused demeanor that suggested she valued efficiency. Her work with herbs and remedies made her the ideal choice to assist in ingredient preparation. However, involving her directly was too risky. Revealing my involvement in the salve business was out of the question. Anonymity was my greatest shield, keeping attention—and competition—at bay.If I was to enlist Lin Mei's help, it would have to be done in a way that preserved my secrecy.I began by observing her routine. Over several days, I noted her movements, paying attention to when she visited the Herbarium and how she worked. She was methodical, spending her mornings at one of the workstations near the center of the Herbarium before returning to her quarters in the evening. She rarely deviated from this schedule, which made planning easier.On the fourth day, I put my plan into motion.Early that morning, I arrived at the Herbarium under the pretense of gathering ingredients for my own use. The Herbarium was a vast, carefully maintained space shared by both the Medicine and Alchemy Departments. Rows of rare herbs and medicinal plants stretched as far as the eye could see, their scents mingling in the air. Disciples moved between the rows, harvesting and cataloging ingredients with practiced precision.Near one of the workstations Lin Mei frequented, I placed a small leather pouch. Inside were neatly folded instructions detailing how to prepare specific ingredients, along with a payment of 50 Spirit Stones. The note was unsigned, and the instructions were written in a precise but neutral hand to avoid drawing suspicion.The task was straightforward: prepare the ingredients exactly as described, package them neatly, and leave them in a designated spot within the Herbarium. Payment was provided upfront, with a promise of more if the task was completed satisfactorily. It was a calculated risk, but one I was confident would yield results.From a discreet vantage point near the Herbarium's entrance, I watched as Lin Mei arrived, her black braid swaying gently with each step. She moved with her usual calm efficiency, settling into her workstation and beginning her tasks for the day.It didn't take long for her to notice the pouch. Her brow furrowed slightly as she picked it up, untying the string and examining the contents. Her expression remained unreadable as she read the instructions and counted the Spirit Stones. After a moment, she tucked the pouch into her robe and returned to her work without a word.She had taken the bait.That evening, I returned to the Herbarium under the cover of darkness. In the designated spot, I found a small bundle of neatly prepared ingredients, just as the instructions had requested. Each cut, grind, and extraction was executed flawlessly. Her precision was evident, confirming my assessment of her skills.Leaving another pouch of Spirit Stones as payment, I quietly collected the bundle and returned to my quarters.Over the next several days, the process repeated. Each morning, I left a new set of instructions and payment in the same location. Each evening, I retrieved the prepared ingredients, always finding them completed to perfection. Lin Mei never pried or questioned the arrangement. Her discretion and reliability only reinforced her value.With her handling the preparation work, I was free to focus solely on creating the salves themselves. Production increased significantly, allowing me to meet the growing demand without sacrificing quality.On the seventh day, however, a complication arose.As I approached the Herbarium that morning, I noticed a group of outer sect disciples lingering near the entrance. Their conversation carried through the air, their tones laced with curiosity and suspicion."Have you heard about the pouch?" one of them said. "Someone's been leaving Spirit Stones and instructions for ingredient preparation. No one knows who it is."Another disciple snorted. "Probably some inner sect disciple too lazy to do their own work.""Or too smart to waste time on it," a third chimed in.I watched the scene in front of me, recognizing the implications in their words. The pattern had been noticed, and if questions continued, it could lead to unwanted scrutiny. Adjustments needed to be made.That night, I changed the drop-off location, leaving a note in the previous spot informing Lin Mei of the update. The new location was a secluded corner of the outer sect courtyard, far from the prying eyes of curious disciples.When I arrived to collect the prepared ingredients, I found them waiting as usual, along with a brief note in Lin Mei's handwriting: Understood.Her adaptability and willingness to follow instructions without unnecessary questions only solidified her as an asset to my operation.Returning to my quarters with the bundle of prepared ingredients in hand, I allowed myself a moment of rest. The system I had built was efficient and discreet, allowing me to expand my business without exposing myself. Lin Mei's involvement, though indirect, was a critical factor in this success. Her skill and reliability provided the foundation I needed to operate in the shadows, but now it was time to take the next step.My capital had increased significantly, and with it, the possibilities for scaling my operations. The salve business was booming, but the demand was far outstripping my capacity to produce. To maintain my hold on the market, I needed more hands to assist with the growing workload. Ingredient preparation, the most time-consuming part of the process, was the bottleneck. It was time to bring in more workers, and the best way to do that was through the sect's mission system.Issuing a mission through the sect was more expensive than private hiring, but it came with one significant advantage: legitimacy. The sect would act as a witness to the agreement, ensuring both sides adhered to the terms. Breaking a contract issued through the sect invited harsh penalties, making it a secure way to employ disciples while maintaining control over their output.As I sat at my desk drafting the mission details, my thoughts wandered to the broader strategy.Business, at its core, is no different from war. Back on Earth, the battlefield wasn't fought with swords or Qi, but with influence, resources, and manipulation. Capitalism was the ultimate proving ground for those who understood the rules—or knew how to break them. Corporations with wealth and power crushed their competitors, using strategies that seemed fair on the surface but were anything but.Lowering prices to undercut the competition was a classic maneuver, one I had employed here with precision. By offering superior salves at a lower cost, I forced my competitors into a corner. They could either match my prices, cutting their profits to unsustainable levels, or maintain higher prices and lose their customers. It was a lose-lose scenario for them and a win-win for me.In a way, it was almost unfair. The disciples here were young and naive, with little understanding of economic principles or the long-term consequences of their actions. Many of them saw the world in absolutes: power, strength, and immediate gains. They had no concept of market dynamics, supply chains, or the value of a stable monopoly.On Earth, companies would spend years building their brands, scaling their operations, and creating demand through clever marketing and psychological manipulation. Here, I was doing the same but in a much shorter timeframe. These disciples couldn't see the strings I was pulling, nor did they understand how easily their actions played into my hands.For example, the lower prices I introduced weren't just about attracting customers—they were about creating dependency. When someone becomes accustomed to getting more for less, they resist returning to inferior products. Disciples who bought my salves now compared everything else to my quality and cost, and by comparison, nothing else measured up.This dependency was the foundation of my strategy. As demand grew, I would scale up production by employing apprentices in the Medicine Department. These apprentices, eager for Spirit Stones and recognition, would work diligently under the contracts I issued. Their labor would allow me to flood the market with my salves, further entrenching my position as the primary supplier.Once I dominated the market, I could begin the next phase: manipulating supply and demand. Artificial scarcity was one of the most powerful tools in a monopolist's arsenal. By reducing the availability of my salves, I could create a sense of urgency, driving up prices as disciples scrambled to secure my products.At the same time, I would cater to high-value customers—inner sect disciples and influential figures—by offering exclusive, premium products. These salves would be tailored to their needs and sold at exorbitant rates, reinforcing the perception of quality and scarcity.For my competitors, their fates were already sealed. The smaller operations couldn't match my scale or pricing. As their businesses faltered, I would offer to buy them out for a fraction of their worth, absorbing their supply chains and eliminating them as threats.On Earth, this strategy was known as vertical integration: controlling every aspect of a product's creation, from raw materials to distribution. Here, it would make me untouchable.Of course, none of this would work if I exposed myself. Anonymity was my greatest weapon, shielding me from scrutiny and allowing me to operate without interference. To maintain it, I would rely on intermediaries—disciples who acted as the public face of my operations. They would handle transactions and negotiations, keeping my identity concealed while ensuring the business ran smoothly.The more I thought about it, the more it became clear that this sect, for all its emphasis on power and cultivation, was ripe for exploitation. Strength was important here, but it wasn't the only path to influence. Resources were equally valuable. Spirit Stones fueled cultivation, rare herbs enabled breakthroughs, and alliances determined survival. By controlling a vital resource like salves, I could wield power that not many could rival.On Earth, the greatest empires weren't built by warriors or kings—they were built by those who understood money, influence, and leverage. Here, I would do the same. My salves were the beginning, a means to gain control over the market and establish a foundation for greater ambitions.I finalized the mission details, ensuring the instructions were clear and the payment attractive enough to draw interest. As I placed the final seal on the document, I allowed myself a brief moment of satisfaction.▬▬ι═══════ﺤA week had passed, and every moment had been orchestrated to perfection. The salve business, as I had predicted, had grown explosively. My calculations had been precise, my strategies effective, and now I stood at the pinnacle of wealth among the outer sect disciples. Even many inner sect disciples, despite their elevated status, couldn't rival the fortune I had amassed.But the salves were merely a means to an end. They had provided the capital I needed to take the next step. Alchemy was my true focus now—the path that would elevate my standing and hone my skills. My calculations had shown me that alchemy held far greater potential for influence and power, and with my funds brimming with Spirit Stones, I was ready to embrace the risks it demanded.That morning, I entered the Alchemy Department with a singular purpose. The familiar scents of herbs and Qi-infused flames greeted me as I moved purposefully through the hall. Disciples worked at their stations, their robes marked with insignias denoting their ranks. The black flame of Novice Alchemists was most common, but I spotted a few silver flames of Apprentice Alchemists—a rank I aimed to surpass sooner rather than later.Securing a private refinement room, I set out my tools and ingredients. The Qi Replenishing Pill was my target, chosen for its complexity and potential for growth. This wasn't just about producing pills—I intended to deconstruct every step of the process, analyze each variable, and refine my technique to perfection.The ingredients were arranged meticulously: Shadowmint leaves, Jade Ginseng Root, Moonlit Dew, and more. Each component was prepared with precision, their properties carefully noted. I knew I could follow the established formula and succeed, but that wasn't the point. I needed to understand why each ingredient was used, how their interactions shaped the final product, and how I could push the boundaries of their potential.Placing my hands on the ignition crystal, I channeled Qi into the furnace. The flame roared to life, its blue glow casting flickering shadows across the room. I adjusted the temperature and began adding the ingredients, each step deliberate.The first attempt failed spectacularly.The Shadowmint leaves dissolved too quickly, releasing their essence before the mixture could stabilize. Smoke filled the room as the batch was ruined. I calmly shut the furnace down, noting the timing error and adjusting the sequence.The second batch fared a little better. The Moonlit Dew was added at the wrong moment, diluting the mixture's potency. The resulting pills were uneven in color and emitted a faintly acrid odor.With each attempt, I experimented further. I altered the proportions of the ingredients, tested different temperatures, and adjusted the timing of each addition. Some batches were crumbly, their structure unstable. Others had unusual colors or emitted strange scents. Every failure was a lesson, revealing the intricate balance required for perfection.On the twelfth attempt, disaster struck.The furnace exploded with a deafening roar, scattering scorched fragments across the room. Smoke billowed out, the acrid stench of burnt ingredients filling the air. The cost of the failure was immense—the ingredients alone were worth more than many disciples earned in a month, and this does not even include the damaged furnace.Yet I remained composed. This, too, had been accounted for. Failure was part of the process, a necessary step on the path to mastery. After I replaced the damaged furnace and reviewed my notes in my head, I adjusted my approach and continued without hesitation.Hours passed as I refined my technique. Each iteration brought me closer to understanding. I began to see how the subtle variations in timing, temperature, and Qi infusion affected the outcome. The Jade Ginseng Root, for example, needed to be ground more finely to release its essence evenly. The moonlit dew required precise timing to merge harmoniously with the mixture.Finally, success.The flame burned steadily as I added the last ingredient. The Moonlit Dew merged seamlessly into the mixture, the bubbling liquid stabilizing with a faint shimmer. A fragrant aroma filled the room—a clear sign of a successful refinement.Carefully, I retrieved the pills and placed them on the impurity-testing device. The mechanism whirred to life, analyzing the batch before displaying the result: 71% impurity.A mid-grade pill.The result was precisely what I had aimed for. Not only had I succeeded, but I had also gained a deeper understanding of the process. Each adjustment, each failure, had taught me something new. If I could replicate this result consistently, I would qualify as an Apprentice Alchemist—a rank many spent years striving to achieve.But becoming an Apprentice Alchemist wasn't my goal at the moment. Not only would it bring even more attention to me—an inconvenience in itself—but it would also lead people to connect the dots about the pills I was selling. If I started to sell medium-grade pills while being recognized as a mere Novice Alchemist, no one would suspect me of being the one behind them.Reaching the rank of Apprentice Alchemist from Novice Alchemist was a task that took most cultivators years, sometimes even decades if their talents or resources were lacking. The leap was significant, requiring not only a deeper understanding of pill refinement but also consistent results with higher-grade materials. My ability to achieve such results within mere weeks of becoming a Novice would undoubtedly raise suspicion. I carefully stored the batch of pills I had just refined, sealing them in a plain, unmarked jade bottle. The craftsmanship of the pills was evident: their surface was smooth and glossy, their color vibrant, and their scent potent yet balanced. To the discerning eye, it was clear these pills had been crafted by someone with precision far beyond the typical Novice.With the pills safely tucked away, I turned my attention back to the tools scattered across the table. The cauldron's faint warmth still lingered, the scent of herbs clinging to the air. The room was quiet, save for the distant hum of disciples training in the outer courtyards. I moved with methodical precision, cleaning each instrument and organizing my materials.As I cleaned the room, I reflected on the day's work. The failures hadn't been setbacks; they had been investments in my knowledge. The experimentation had shown me the underlying mechanics of alchemy, and that understanding would serve me far beyond the Qi Replenishing Pill.Now, with my method refined, and my techniques honed, I could produce Qi Replenishing Pills en masse, even achieving mid-grade quality consistently. The cost of production had decreased significantly as well. I no longer needed to use as many materials as before, and my efficiency in ingredient utilization ensured less wastage and better results. This would undoubtedly attract even more attention to my humble business.The wealth from selling mid-grade Qi Replenishing Pills alone would cement my influence further, but my sights were set higher. With this newfound capital and confidence, it was soon time to advance my craft.The Qi Condensation Pill.This pill, which Bai Yun had refined during her examination, was far more complex than the Qi Replenishing Pill. It required more ingredients, each with specific preparation methods, and a precise yet intricate refining process. The slightest deviation in temperature, timing, or Qi control could ruin the entire batch. It was a challenge far beyond anything I had attempted thus far, but I felt prepared.Watching Bai Yun refine the Qi Condensation Pill had been invaluable. Observing her process gave me insight not only into her skills, but also into areas where I could improve. Her precision in ingredient preparation, her control over the flame, and the timing of her additions had all been etched into my memory.Unlike most, who would struggle to keep track of every step, I had committed every detail to memory. I recalled how each ingredient had been handled: the temperature at which the Shadowmint essence had been extracted, the precise size to which the jade ginseng root had been sliced, and the careful order in which they were added to the furnace. The adjustments she made to the flame's intensity and her timing between steps were all logged in my mind with clinical accuracy.A typical alchemist would need the recipe itself for guidance. Recipes didn't just provide the steps; they often included additional tips, warnings, and insights into the subtle nuances of each ingredient. But recipes of this caliber came at an exorbitant price. The recipe for the Qi Condensation Pill, for example, would cost upwards of 10,000 low-grade Spirit Stones—an amount I could technically afford but wasn't willing to spend. That capital would be better used for multiple attempts at concoction.I wasn't relying solely on memory, though. My time experimenting with Qi Replenishing Pills had significantly improved my control over the furnace, my Qi flow, and my understanding of how ingredients interacted during refinement. I was no longer the novice I had been when I first joined the sect.The Qi Condensation Pill was my next goal, a challenge that would push me further along the path of mastery. If I succeeded, the benefits would be manifold. Not only would I refine a pill of significant value to cultivators in the Qi Condensation realm, but I would also be able to improve my cultivation level even faster.Sitting at the desk, I mentally rehearsed the process. In my mind's eye, I envisioned every step, every movement, every adjustment to the flame. I visualized the bubbling mixture in the furnace, the precise moment to add each ingredient, and the subtle shifts in the flame's intensity to coax out the perfect reaction.Placing the last cleaned tool back in its place, I stood and gazed out of the window. The moon hung high in the sky, its silvery light casting long shadows across the sect grounds.▬▬ι═══════ﺤReturning to my quarters that evening, I prepared a simple meal with ingredients that I bought at the market. The salve business, my cultivation, and my alchemical pursuits were progressing exactly as I had planned. After eating, I turned my focus to cultivation. The Umbral Absorption Technique drew shadow Qi into my body with increasing efficiency, circulating it through my meridians and refining it before directing it to my dantian. With the wealth of Spirit Stones at my disposal, my progress had accelerated dramatically.The energy within me swelled, potent and refined, circulating through my meridians with ease. The flow was steady yet powerful, a sign of my rapid approach to the peak of the second stage of Qi Condensation. Each cultivation session brought me closer to yet another breakthrough, the threshold to the next realm within sight.Leaning back slightly, I let out a quiet breath, my gaze drifting to the faint reflection in the polished surface of the window. Three months. It had been three months since I first arrived in this world—a place so vastly different from the structured life I once knew at ANHS. The passage of time here felt both swift and deliberate, each day filled with purpose and opportunity, yet also brimming with challenges that demanded constant vigilance.Reaching up, I touched my hair, noting its length. It had grown slightly longer than I usually kept it back at ANHS. I had always preferred it short—neat, practical, and efficient. But here in the Monastery, long hair seemed to be the norm among most disciples and cultivators.Only a few, like Jiang Wei, Mo Hong, or myself, seemed to favor shorter hair. But even their styles bore a certain rugged practicality rather than strict conformity."Might as well let it grow," I muttered under my breath.The stillness of the night was a sharp contrast to the day's activity, a quiet moment where even the smallest sounds seemed amplified.I extinguished the small lamp beside me, and the room was enveloped in gentle darkness. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, I let the residual warmth of the day's cultivation settle in my core. After a moment, I shifted to lie down on my bed, the faint hum of energy within me a soothing rhythm.The faint rustle of leaves outside and the steady cadence of my breath were the only sounds that accompanied me. Slowly, the stillness of the room and the softness of the night eased me into sleep.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Unlike my original plan to spend the day refining a Qi Condensation Pill, I decided instead to dedicate the entire day to cultivation. Reaching the third stage of Qi Condensation, the Meridian Opening stage, was my priority. It had been just over two weeks since I reached the second stage. Though the transition from a mortal to the second stage had taken only two weeks, each subsequent breakthrough required more effort, energy, and resources. Cultivation, I had learned, was a compounding endeavor, where each step forward became exponentially more challenging.Thankfully, my business had provided me with the resources to sustain this accelerated progress. The wealth of Spirit Stones I possessed meant I could cultivate without hesitation, plunging into the effort with everything at my disposal. Over the past two weeks, I have felt the energy within me grow denser, stronger, and more refined. The third stage was within reach—perhaps even today.Seated cross-legged in my quarters, I retrieved a sizable pile of Spirit Stones. Their faint glow illuminated the room, and their concentrated energy filled the air with a soft, steady hum. Closing my eyes, I activated the Umbral Absorption Technique and began to cultivate.Shadow Qi surged into me, flowing steadily through my meridians. With each cycle, the energy grew denser and more refined, pooling within my dantian. My body hummed with the faint pressure of power building, a sensation both invigorating and grounding.The hours slipped away in silence. The Spirit Stones gradually dimmed as their energy was consumed, their once-crystalline forms crumbling into fine dust. By the time the sun set, and the room was bathed in moonlight, the small mountain of stones had nearly vanished.As the last remnants of energy poured into me, the barrier to the third stage finally gave way. A tremor ran through my body, and I felt a shift deep within. My meridians fully opened, allowing Qi to flow unhindered throughout my system. The transformation was profound. The energy no longer moved with resistance or inefficiency—it coursed through me as naturally as blood through veins.The third stage, the Meridian Opening stage, was more than just a milestone. With my meridians fully opened, my Qi flow became more efficient, and I gained improved control over its application. This stage also marked the beginning of a longer process: the purification of impurities within the body.Most cultivators would spend the entirety of this stage gradually purging these impurities. The process wasn't immediate or simple—it required dedication, time, and continuous cultivation. Yet, as I guided the Qi through my body, I noticed something unusual. The impurities within me were almost nonexistent.Frowning slightly, I paused my cultivation to analyze this anomaly. The absence of impurities wasn't normal. Even the most gifted cultivators needed to spend months to years cleansing their bodies to ascend to the next realm. Yet my body felt unnaturally pure, as though it had skipped this fundamental step entirely.Then, the answer dawned on me.This body wasn't born into the world the normal way. It had been created from thin air only three months ago. Unlike those who had spent years as mortals accumulating impurities through the trials of life, my body had no such history. The short time I spent as a mortal before starting cultivation simply hadn't been enough for impurities to take root.The realization was intriguing. While others at my level would need to dedicate time and effort to this cleansing process, I could focus solely on strengthening my Qi and progressing further. It was a unique advantage—one I fully intended to exploit.The last of the Spirit Stones crumbled into dust, their energy completely consumed. Opening my eyes, I flexed my fingers experimentally, channeling a thread of Qi through my meridians. The response was immediate and fluid, the energy flowing with precision and ease.This enhanced control allowed me to perform basic techniques with newfound efficiency, each movement more deliberate and powerful than before. The strength coursing through my body was palpable, a testament to the benefits of the Meridian Opening stage.Rising to my feet, I took a moment to sweep the remnants of the Spirit Stones into a corner. The moonlight streamed softly through the window, casting long shadows across the room. My body felt lighter, my movements more fluid, as though every part of me had been refined.Surprisingly, I felt neither fatigue nor hunger, despite the hours spent in cultivation. The advancement to the third stage had not only bolstered my strength but also brought a newfound efficiency to my body's internal processes. My dantian brimmed with energy, the sheer abundance of Qi erasing any lingering weariness or need for sustenance for the moment.Curious to test my new limits, I raised my hand and channeled Qi through my meridians. It surged with a responsiveness that I hadn't experienced before, flowing smoothly to my fingertips. With a sharp motion, I released a burst of Qi.The result was instantaneous. A concentrated pulse of energy shot forward, far more potent than the weak, erratic bursts I had produced at the second stage. The air hummed faintly with the remnants of the release, the power controlled but undeniable. I restrained myself, careful not to unleash my full strength within the confines of my quarters. Even at this restrained output, the difference was staggering.This was a significant milestone. The third stage wasn't just a refinement of Qi flow; it was the threshold where cultivators could truly begin to utilize techniques. The improved control over Qi allowed for precise manipulation, a foundation upon which countless methods and skills could be built.As I stood there, the memory of the battle with the bandit's uncle surfaced. At the time, I had been a mortal, completely reliant on physical prowess and strategic execution to overcome an opponent who was far superior in raw strength. The difference between a mortal and a cultivator—even one at the fourth stage of Qi Condensation—was like the chasm between heaven and earth.Reflecting on that encounter, the reasons for my victory became clearer. The man, despite his cultivation, was a rogue cultivator. His technique was crude, inefficient, and lacked the refinement that came from proper instruction. His reliance on brute force and a small repertoire of basic techniques had been his undoing.I recalled his two primary attacks vividly. The first was a Qi Blade—a focused channeling of Qi to the tips of his pointer and middle fingers to form a sharp, cutting edge. The second was a burst technique, releasing a wave of energy from his fist to destabilize opponents. Both were rudimentary techniques, effective in their simplicity but limited in their potential.With my current abilities, I could replicate both techniques easily, perhaps even execute them better. The man's lack of emotional discipline had further sealed his fate. His frustration and overconfidence had clouded his judgment, leaving him vulnerable to calculated counterattacks.I stood by the window, the moonlight spilling across the floor of my quarters in pale streaks. The night was quiet, the sect grounds shrouded in serene stillness. Yet, despite the calm, my mind was restless. Sitting idle was never my preference, and the allure of progress pulled at me.Making my decision, I grabbed the Veil of Eternal Night manual and tucked it into my robes. If sleep wouldn't come easily, I could at least make the night productive. The Hall of Resonance was always open to disciples for training, and the techniques within the manual—Whisping Step and Shadow Infusion—needed more than theoretical study to master.Aside from the Veil of Eternal Night, I also grabbed the Shadow of Whisper manual and my Tang Dao which hang on the wall. I had not used it for a long time, I thought quietly.The air was cool as I stepped outside, carrying with it the faint scent of dew and earth. The sect grounds, typically bustling during the day, were now silent, save for the occasional rustle of leaves. Shadows stretched long and deep under the moonlight, an ideal setting to train techniques rooted in stealth and subtlety.The moonlight bathed the sect grounds in a pale, ethereal glow, and the cool night air carried a faint crispness that settled against my skin. My steps were measured and deliberate as I approached the Hall of Resonance. As I neared a stone courtyard just off the path, a faint melody drifted through the air—haunting and cold, its notes sharp yet delicate. The sound was unlike anything I had heard before, drawing my attention immediately.Rounding the corner, I saw a woman. She sat beneath a solitary lantern, her figure framed by its soft glow. Her robe, a greenish-white hue, shimmered faintly in the light, the color accentuating the icy aura that seemed to radiate from her. Her long, flowing hair mirrored her appearance—dark, yet kissed with faint white highlights that gave it an almost frost-like sheen.Her beauty was striking, a regal elegance that exuded cold indifference, like a snow queen presiding over her frozen realm. She played a guqin resting across her lap, her hands moving with effortless grace. The melody she wove was as frigid as her demeanor, each note cutting through the silence like shards of ice.I slowed my steps, my gaze briefly lingering on her. Her aura was suppressed to the point of near invisibility; I wouldn't have noticed her at all if not for the music. The precision with which she controlled her presence was a skill in itself, suggesting a level of mastery far beyond that of a mere disciple.Her eyes flicked toward me as I approached, dark and sharp, but the glance was fleeting. She turned her attention back to her guqin almost immediately, as though I weren't worth her notice.Seeing her disregard, I took that as my cue to continue. There was no point in lingering or attempting to engage someone whose status and abilities were likely far beyond my comprehension. Her attire alone—customized robes rather than the standard sect garb—was a clear marker of her rank. Only those beyond core disciples had the privilege to wear clothes of their choosing. Whether she was a True Disciple, an elder, or something even greater, I had no intention of finding out.Without pausing, I resumed my path, passing by her without so much as a second glance. Interacting with someone of her stature was unnecessary and unwise.The notes of her melody continued to drift through the air as I moved further away, their cold beauty lingering in my thoughts. But my focus quickly returned to the Hall of Resonance and the training that awaited. The solitude of the night was mine once more, and with it, the chance to refine my techniques.▬▬ι═══════ﺤAs Ayanokoji disappeared into the Hall of Resonance, the faint echoes of his footsteps fading into the distance, the woman's delicate fingers came to rest on the guqin's strings, silencing the final notes of her melody. The lantern above her flickered, casting fleeting shadows over her greenish-white robes. Her icy aura seemed to seep into the stillness of the courtyard, intensifying the chill in the air.Her sharp, frost-like gaze lingered on the entrance to the Hall, where he had vanished moments before. Her lips parted slightly, and she muttered, "Interesting."Her voice was soft yet carried a cutting edge, like the whisper of wind across a frozen lake. "So this is the new disciple Elder Sun Min mentioned."Leaning back slightly, her elegant fingers trailed absentmindedly over the smooth surface of her guqin as her mind turned to the young man. "Third Stage of Qi Condensation," she murmured, her words laced with intrigue. "In just over a month... and yet, his cultivation shows none of the impurities typical of those at this stage. Almost as though..."She paused, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly as she considered the implications. "...as though his body was untouched by the mortal filth most must endure. Clean, refined, and unnaturally efficient."Her lips curved into the faintest trace of a smile, though it held no warmth. "A prodigy? No," she muttered, shaking her head. "Something more deliberate. Controlled. Methodical. He doesn't have the air of those naive talents who rise quickly only to fall just as fast."Her gaze turned back to the strings of her guqin, her fingers lightly plucking a single note that hung in the still air. The sound was cold and piercing, much like her thoughts."This will be worth watching," she mused, her voice almost inaudible as she rose to her feet with a graceful motion. Her robes shifted around her like drifting snow, the faint green hues blending seamlessly with the moonlit courtyard.As she turned to leave, her frosty aura left the lanterns dimmed and the air colder than before. The Hall of Resonance loomed in the distance, where Ayanokoji had begun his training, unaware of the gaze that had followed him or the interest he had piqued in someone who rarely took notice of those beneath her status."Let's see how far you'll rise, Ayanokoji Kiyotaka," she whispered to the night, her voice carried away by the wind as her figure melted into the shadows.▬▬ι═══════ﺤThe heavy wooden door of the Hall of Resonance closed behind me with a dull thud, sealing out the crisp night air. Inside, the atmosphere was warm but subdued, the flickering lanterns along the stone walls casting faint golden light over the space. A faint hum of lingering energy, likely residual from countless hours of cultivation, filled the air.Ahead of me, a male student sat slouched behind a polished counter, his robes slightly askew and his posture speaking of someone well acquainted with monotony. He looked to be a few years older than me, his tired eyes flicking upward briefly as I approached."Training room?" he asked flatly, his tone devoid of enthusiasm."Yes," I replied, placing five mid-grade Spirit Stones—500 low-grade equivalents—on the counter. The rate for one hour was 100 Spirit Stones, a steep price for most disciples, but well within my means now.The student's eyes flicked briefly to the insignia on my robe, noting the black flame of a Novice Alchemist, though his expression remained indifferent. With a practiced motion, he swept the stones into a drawer beneath the desk and retrieved a small wooden token."Room seven," he said, sliding the token across the counter toward me. "Five hours. Don't damage anything you can't afford to replace, and don't overstay your time."I inclined my head slightly in acknowledgment, picking up the token without a word. He seemed content to return to his slouched position, uninterested in prolonging the interaction.The hallway beyond the counter stretched ahead, dimly lit and lined with plaques marking the chamber numbers. My footsteps echoed softly as I made my way to room seven, the token warm in my hand. The plaque beside the door was dark, indicating the chamber was unoccupied. Sliding the token into the slot below the plaque, I felt a faint pulse of Qi as the formation recognized my access.The door creaked open, revealing a large room designed solely for cultivation and training. Reinforced walls etched with inscriptions to absorb and contain Qi, a low platform at the center for meditation, and a faint glow emanating from the ceiling, providing soft illumination.I stepped inside, closing the door behind me. As the latch clicked, the chamber's protective formations activated with a subtle hum, enclosing the room in an almost tangible stillness. Placing the token on a small ledge near the door, I moved toward the platform, the manual for the Veil of Eternal Night tucked securely under my arm.Sitting cross-legged, I opened the manual, scanning the elegant script detailing the first steps. Shadows danced faintly along the walls, their movements subtle but deliberate, as though the room itself acknowledged the presence of a shadow-path cultivator. A faint scent of old paper mingled with the cool hush of the chamber.Despite my recent breakthrough to the third stage of Qi Condensation—Meridian Opening—I knew better than to allow pride to cloud my thoughts. Cultivation was an unending pursuit, each step forward revealing a new plateau of possibilities. To stagnate at any stage, consumed by arrogance, was to doom one's path to mediocrity. I needed to master these shadow techniques swiftly and cleanly, making the most of my newly opened meridians and the nearly impurity-free state of my body.Although my mind remained calm and purposeful, a thin thread of anticipation coiled in my chest, urging me to begin. I gave in to that impulse, turning to the page that described Whisping Step, the foundation of movement arts in the Veil of Eternal Night. The manual's script flowed elegantly:
"Whisping Step harnesses the essence of dark Qi to grant its practitioner unparalleled speed and evasion. By shaping bursts of Qi at one's feet, one may cross a battlefield in the blink of an eye. The trick lies in balance—too much Qi, and you may lose all control; too little, and you move no faster than an ordinary mortal. Such is the delicate dance of shadows."
The words evoked images of ghostly figures flickering in and out of sight, stepping through the gloom, unattainable as wraiths. Some might have been tempted to rush headlong into attempts at replicating this speed. But I had learned caution from my earliest days of training; mastery of details separated those who soared from those who fell.I closed the manual, letting the darkness around me settle. The training room was large but not overly so—perhaps a hundred meters in length and half as wide—lined with stone walls etched with protective arrays designed to withstand far more than a mere Qi Condensation cultivator could muster. Rows of thick wooden targets and boulders had been arranged at the far end, presumably so that practitioners testing combat-oriented techniques could avoid leveling the entire room. It was the perfect environment to put both Whisping Step and Shadow Infusion to the test.My eyes, keen but devoid of outward emotion, drifted to the manual once more, as if drawing silent confirmation of the steps I was about to take. Standing with measured calm, I inhaled deeply, allowing Qi to flow smoothly from my dantian into my legs. My meridians, recently opened and free of significant impurities, responded with startling clarity. The shadow Qi—cool, dense, and unerringly obedient—spiraled toward my feet.I felt a subtle chill along my soles, as though I had placed them in a shallow stream of icy water. Holding that image in mind, I carefully visualized the Qi forming swirling vortexes around my feet. This preliminary step was vital: compressing the Qi gently, not forcing or suffocating it. I needed it to be stable enough to listen to my command yet primed to detonate in a silent burst the moment I gave the signal.Taking one step forward, I attempted a minor release of Qi—just to sense the tension, like tugging gently at a crossbow string before firing. My foot slid forward a few meters. The movement was quick but not disorienting. I came to a smooth stop, leaving an ephemeral blur behind me. It was a subdued success, like a test shot of an arrow. The shadow Qi receded and regrouped around my feet, obedient as a trained hound.A faint hum of satisfaction crossed my thoughts—I felt a slight affirmation that my approach was correct. No dizziness, no twisted ankles, no painful feedback from the meridians. Good. That settled the question of whether I understood the theory. Now to push it further.I exhaled slowly, re-centering. This time, I infused more Qi into each foot, building up the tension until the intangible swirl of dark energy felt almost tangible. My stance tensed, knees bending. In the next breath, I released the Qi.The acceleration was immediate and violent. My vision smeared into a single blur of gray stone and dim light. The air tore at my robes, a faint whistle arising as the wind rushed past my ears at dizzying speed. Before my conscious mind could fully register it, I'd traversed nearly the entire length of the training chamber—somewhere close to a hundred meters—in a heartbeat.Stopping was another matter entirely. My Qi flared in the opposite direction, forcing me to skid to a halt. A stinging pain lanced through my calves as muscles and bones struggled to absorb the momentum. My eyes could hardly process what had just happened; the distance was covered so quickly that it nearly defied reason. I stumbled forward, catching my balance a hair's breadth before slamming into the wall.A wave of dizziness rippled through my senses. My head spun, and the walls seemed to tilt for an instant. Though I managed to remain on my feet, it was a delicate victory. With the acceleration so abrupt, my body was left reeling, unaccustomed to such violent motion. A mortal body might have collapsed outright. Even my physique could not escape the jolting aftermath of instant acceleration.I pressed a hand against the cold stone wall, inhaling deliberately. My heart hammered in my chest, but I forced the adrenaline to subside. Slowly, the chamber settled in my vision. The faint hum of residual shadow Qi dissipated, leaving only the flickering glow of the formations carved into the walls. Across the training room, I could see the spot where I had started, a fair distance away—closer to a hundred meters. Ninety kilometers per hour or more, reached in an instant. It surpassed any mortal record, and the more remarkable aspect was that I'd started from a complete standstill.An involuntary wave of satisfaction coursed through me, though my outward demeanor never changed. There was no smirk, no outward display of triumph. I simply straightened, controlling my breathing. Such speed, if honed, would be lethal in combat. I needed to refine my control to avoid the whiplash and dizziness. Once that was done, Whisping Step could be used like a dagger in the dark—sudden and inescapable.I pivoted on my heel and walked slowly back to the center of the chamber, giving my meridians time to recover from the violent surge. Each step was silent, my footfalls making only the faintest of sounds. In my mind, I replayed the burst, analyzing every nuance: the ratio of Qi usage between my left and right feet, the angle of my body, and the moment I decided to stop. Soon enough, I would run the technique again, attempting a gentler deceleration. But first, a short respite.Balance was key. The manual had described it perfectly: Put in too much Qi, and your body would rocket uncontrollably; put in too little, and you gained only minimal advantage. The optimum lay somewhere in between, where the Qi was explosive enough to catapult you to top speed but controlled enough for your senses and body to adapt. Brute force alone would never yield mastery over Whisping Step.Once the dizziness dissipated, I tried again. Exhale—channel Qi—release. This time, I held a fraction of Qi in reserve for deceleration. The result was far smoother, though still jarring. I managed to come to a stop several meters earlier, avoiding a near slam into the wall. The swirling shadows around my ankles grew more visible, fleeting like ephemeral smoke. My eyes, sharper now, detected how each wisp trailed behind me mid-dash.Within an hour, I had performed upward of a dozen bursts, each refining the technique a little more. My body adapted swiftly, especially with no impurities clogging my meridians. The strain lessened each time, my vision recovering faster, my footsteps landing more quietly. In practical combat, an instant dash could confound most attackers. Better yet, with refinement, I could chain multiple bursts in quick succession, outmaneuvering an entire group. The possibility intrigued me.Eventually, my legs began to protest from repeated abrupt stops, so I took a break, focusing on another hallmark skill from the Veil of Eternal Night manual: Shadow Infusion.Where Whisping Step harnessed Qi for movement and evasion, Shadow Infusion turned it into a raw destructive force. The manual described how to channel Qi into one's limbs—fists, palms, or feet—and release it either as a condensed long-range projectile or as an explosive burst at point-blank range. The key difference from typical Qi Blasts was the nature of the energy: shadow Qi was denser, cooler, and had a curious capacity to linger in the environment, creating aftershocks that could disorient an opponent.With slow, deliberate care, I walked across the chamber to the far end, where a row of practice targets stood. Several thick wooden mannequins were arranged in a line, each roughly human-sized with sturdy frames, while behind them lay boulders of varying sizes. One of the medium-sized boulders was almost two meters tall, ringed by even larger stones. The caretaker of the Hall must have placed them there for disciples to test their destructive prowess.I pulled out the manual again, quickly scanning the relevant lines:
"Shadow Infusion harnesses the essence of darkness not merely as force, but as a medium for concentrated Qi. At distance, it may be loosed as a projectile, though the further it travels, the more power disperses. In close range, however, it is devastating—impacting the target in a condensed, explosive form."
I closed the manual and placed it on the ground to the side, well away from where I intended to unleash any blasts. Starting with long-range practice, I extended my right palm toward one of the smaller boulders. My third-stage meridians responded fluidly as I guided Qi from my dantian to my arm. The sensation was akin to drawing water from a deep well, except it was cold, heavy, and tinged with shadow. My forearm tingled; my fingertips felt slightly numb from the concentrated dark energy pooling there.With a single exhale, I thrust my palm forward. A dark pulse shot from my hand, a swift projectile shaped like an elongated orb of swirling shadows. The motion was nearly soundless—just a faint hum, like a muffled breeze. The boulder was about fifteen meters away, leaving the projectile only a split second of travel time before impact.When it struck, a dull crack resounded. A visible dent marred the boulder's surface, accompanied by a spiderweb of thin cracks radiating outward. Pebbles loosened and dropped to the floor. It wasn't an earth-shattering blow, but it was potent enough to gouge into solid rock from a distance. My eyes flicked across the scattered fragments. Formidable, but not the technique's true potential.Shadow Qi dispersed more readily over distance, which meant that the longer the projectile traveled, the weaker it got. This was consistent with the manual's warnings. Nonetheless, I took quiet satisfaction in confirming that the fundamentals were correct. If I had channeled more Qi, or had the boulder been closer, the damage would have been far more extensive.I tried it again, unleashing a second pulse, this time from half the distance. The result was immediate: the projectile tore a ragged chunk from the boulder's surface, sending shards clattering across the stone floor. A haze of dust rose, and the crackling echo lingered in the training chamber. Shorter range, less dispersion—more power. Perfectly logical.After refining this long-range method a few times, I felt confident enough to test the close-combat variant. That was, after all, how Shadow Infusion truly shined. Approaching one of the larger boulders, I sized it up: easily close to my own height, thick, and presumably quite heavy. Destroying something of that mass with a single strike would require a monstrous amount of force—comparable to siege weaponry. In short, it was a perfect test of my newly acquired stage and skill.Stepping within arm's reach, I rested my palm lightly on the rugged surface of the stone. Its texture was cool and uneven. Closing my eyes, I guided Qi from my dantian, letting it pool in my right arm. My meridians thrummed with readiness, shadow Qi swirling like a coiled serpent behind my shoulder. This time, I visualized compressing it into an even smaller area, right at the cusp of my knuckles. Stillness was crucial.Time seemed to slow; my hearing tuned out everything but the deep throb of Qi. My heart pulsed once. Then I struck. The moment my fist connected with the boulder, I unleashed the Qi in a single burst, letting it detonate outward.An explosive force reverberated through the chamber. The boulder didn't just crack; it fragmented like glass under a hammer. Large chunks flew in all directions, some slamming against the walls with alarming velocity. The training chamber's protective inscriptions lit up in response, absorbing the brunt of the flying debris. Dust and grit whirled in a choking cloud around me, forcing me to shield my face with one sleeve.Fortunately, anticipating the recoil, I had braced my stance and formed a thin Qi barrier over my body—a trick I'd perfected in my free time. Even so, my arms throbbed from the force of the strike. Had I miscalculated, the recoil could have shattered my bones, or the debris could have pelted me with lethal force.When the dust settled, the central portion of the boulder was almost gone, leaving only a rugged stump of stone around the edges. The largest piece I could see was no larger than my fist. Looking at the mess, I ran a quick mental calculation. To break apart a hunk of solid rock that size in one blow would have required an enormous measure of force. Shadow Infusion had managed it with terrifying ease. A second wave of dust drifted through the air, lit faintly by the flickering runes on the walls.I lowered my raised arm and let the Qi barrier dissipate, my eyes registering the extent of the damage with cold detachment. I felt no outward excitement or glee, but deep within, I was impressed. The efficiency and refinement of the third stage made such feats possible, especially with the synergy of shadow-path Qi.Tilting my head, I stepped aside, letting the last bits of rubble settle. My analysis was simple: from range, Shadow Infusion was formidable, but it lost potency quickly. Up close, it was devastating—capable of obliterating obstacles or opponents in the blink of an eye. Combining that with Whisping Step's speed might create a lethal combination: dash in, strike with condensed Qi, and vanish again into the gloom. Even the memory of how I overcame the rogue cultivator rose in my mind, though back then, I had only mortal means to rely on.Unwilling to let a single demonstration suffice, I approached a smaller boulder for further trials. This time, I channeled Qi into my left palm, shaping it more gently. The burst upon contact was smaller, more controlled—still enough to crack the rock in half, but without the same cataclysmic explosion. The manual had hinted at such granularity of control, and it was satisfying to see that. Thanks to my near-purity of meridians, I could shift from destructive might to precision as needed.A few paces away, a wooden target beckoned as a final test. Wood was not as sturdy as stone, but it had a different type of resilience. I formed a short-range projectile by focusing Qi in my fingertips, then unleashed it with a quick thrust. The resulting impact skewered the wooden dummy, leaving a neat, smoldering hole in its center. Splinters flew out the back, pattering onto the ground. The smell of singed timber filled my nostrils.I considered trying to combine Whisping Step and Shadow Infusion together now; however, having just battered my arms and legs with repeated blasts and sprints, I determined it wise to pace myself. Even with a nearly pristine body, Qi reserves could empty, and meridians could fatigue under sustained abuse. My limbs felt slightly heavy, the same quiet throbbing that accompanied an intense day of training in the past. I continued to cycle my Qi, letting it move through each meridian, soothing the minor strain of high-speed bursts and explosive strikes.The next step: integration. I found a cleared section of the training chamber free of rubble and boulders and set up several wooden dummies at intervals. I wanted to practice chaining one Whisping Step into an immediate short-range Shadow Infusion. Arranging them in a makeshift obstacle course, I spaced them about five meters apart, each one offset slightly from the last to force me to pivot mid-sprint.Taking position at the far side, I breathed out, my expression neutral, eyes narrowed only slightly in concentration. My Qi began to swirl around my feet. With a soft push, I vanished in a flicker of shadows, reappearing almost instantly at the first target. My fist, infused with a moderate burst of Qi, struck its wooden frame, splintering it in half. Without pausing, I initiated a second Whisping Step, angling to the side to reach the next dummy. I loosed a smaller wave of shadow Qi at its midsection. Cracks spread across its torso. Completing the rotation, I pivoted behind the third dummy, unleashed a palm strike, and then used the remains of my momentum to retreat several meters in the blink of an eye.Had there been an observer, the entire sequence might have looked like a dance of ephemeral illusions—barely visible forms of darkness darting from one point to another, each transition accompanied by a whisper of wind. For me, it was still imperfect: the abrupt stops jarred my legs, and I had to force each transition to keep from toppling over or losing my aim. Now and again, I felt a flash of lightheadedness, a sign that my neural pathways couldn't quite track the rapid shifts.Nonetheless, each repetition refined my motor memory, making the leaps and strikes more fluid. The synergy of a freshly opened meridian network and my natural affinity for shadow Qi created a silent synergy few novices could match. After a solid hour of repeated practice, my breathing grew slightly heavier. Though I felt physically taxed, it was nowhere near the catastrophic exhaustion I might have suffered at a lower stage. I paused, letting the Qi settle, and withdrew to a quiet corner of the chamber to reevaluate my progress.A deep silence settled over the Hall of Resonance as I leaned my back against the cold stone wall, letting a slow exhale escape my lips. My meridians still pulsed from the repeated bursts of Whisping Step and the explosive discharges of Shadow Infusion. The frigid shadow Qi within me had yet to fully subside, buzzing faintly under my skin. Despite the rest, my body felt like a taut wire, ready to snap under the right strain. In the past, I would have stopped here, satisfied with the day's progress. Yet now, curiosity beckoned me forward: the manual had contained far more secrets than the basic outlines of Whisping Step and Shadow Infusion. My breakthroughs to the third stage, combined with a body virtually devoid of impurities, might let me probe territory normally reserved for those two entire stages above me.I glanced across the training room. The aftermath of my exercises was evident—splintered wood, crushed stone, and the lingering hum of residual Qi. I found myself wondering how much more I could accomplish. The text in the Veil of Eternal Night manual described advanced skills that typically became feasible only at the fifth stage, where cultivators had shed their bodily impurities. It was an accepted tenet of cultivation: only from stage five onward did one begin taking on higher-risk missions, often involving direct combat against beasts, rogue cultivators, or other sects. That was the threshold at which most cultivators were deemed truly battle-ready. Before that, stage four and below, one was still an initiate in many respects, too vulnerable to be risked on the battlefield—little more than cannon fodder in large-scale conflicts.But the manual made it clear that the distinction wasn't only about raw strength. It was about control—fine-tuned mastery of Qi, the sort that let cultivators shape advanced techniques without causing a backlash or injuring themselves. Normally, that demanded time, effort, and repeated purifications. I, however, had skipped an enormous portion of that process. My body's origin, conjured mere months ago, meant I carried virtually no mortal residue in my cells, no remnants of toxins or spiritual blockages. As such, many of the advanced skills might not be as far-fetched for me as they would be for other third-stage cultivators.That realization stirred an unspoken sense of urgency. The notion of testing those advanced techniques right here, right now, grew more appealing by the second. But I also knew Qi was a limited resource—and my reserves were running lower than usual after the extensive practice. If I wanted to push deeper, I'd need either a long period of rest or some form of immediate replenishment.Stepping carefully across the rubble-strewn floor, I retrieved my kit from a nearby bench. Inside was a small tube. It contained several Qi Replenishing Pills I'd concocted with my own alchemical skill. Each pill was about the size of my thumbnail, formed of pale, translucent material flecked with faint gold threads. Swallowing one, I felt a cool wave bloom in my abdomen, gradually filtering through my meridians, revitalizing them with an almost glacial clarity.I waited a few minutes, letting the pill's effects settle. As my Qi stabilized, I opened the Whisper of Shadows manual.The manual outlined a series of skills typically introduced to cultivators at the cusp of the fifth stage. The text repeatedly cautioned that the body's tolerance and control at earlier stages might be insufficient to wield them effectively. Each technique was described in exquisite detail. (*1)Reading those names alone conjured vivid mental images: fleeting figures slipping into dark corners, swords crackling with black flames, illusions sowing chaos among the ranks of unsuspecting enemies. I couldn't deny a certain hunger for mastery. If I could partially grasp even just one or two of these advanced arts, it could dramatically expand my repertoire.Yet I also recognized the risk. Overextending myself now could cause internal damage or Qi deviation, especially with so many techniques at once. It would be irrational to attempt them all in a single session. Still, the manual beckoned. One day is all I need, I told myself. I might master them all. But for this 24-hour window—especially once I purchased additional time in the room—I would systematically sample as many as feasible, identify those that felt most compatible with my current stage, and refine them to a workable level.I rose from where I sat and made my way back to the door. The corridors of the Hall were quiet, the attendant from earlier half-dozing at his post. He barely glanced at me as I placed more Spirit Stones on the counter."Another day," I said, voice measured, my expression neutral. "Room seven again."He gave a disinterested shrug. "If you've got the stones for it. That room's free for the next day if you're extending. Don't blow it up, and don't blame me if you cripple yourself." Then, more quietly, he added, "Cultivators who push themselves too hard sometimes regret it."I didn't bother to respond. Slipping back inside the training chamber, the door behind me closed once more. The flicker of protective arrays lit the perimeter. The knowledge that I now had a full day to devote to these arts gave me a sense of clarity. I found a spot near the center, sat cross-legged again, and consumed a second Qi Replenishing Pill, ensuring I would have enough reserves to begin my exploration of the advanced techniques....I started with Shadow Slip, enthralled by the concept of momentarily phasing into darkness. The manual's diagrams showed cultivators merging into the shadows. An extreme form of stealth that temporarily aligned the user with the yin element so fully that they were invisible to the enemy.The instructions emphasized unwavering mental focus: one had to visualize the body dissolving into shadow, bit by bit, until only the faintest silhouette remained. Then, with a precise push of Qi, you completed the "slip," vanishing from the visible plane. The user would remain tangible, but it was enough to reposition unnoticed or confuse their enemies.Practicing in the bright training room was suboptimal; better conditions might be found outside, perhaps in the gloom of Ebonspire Peak, where the manual suggested the technique was best refined. Still, I wanted to at least attempt the fundamentals now. I headed to a dim corner, cast partly into darkness by the overhead lamps. Standing there, I closed my eyes, letting my Qi flow outward. The feeling resembled what I'd done attempting to meld with shadows before. However, Shadow Slip demanded more than melding—it required an actual shift in my "substance."The first attempts yielded little success. Each time I tried to push my body into the darkness, I felt an intangible resistance, like pressing against a membrane that wouldn't yield. My Qi would swirl, half-form an intangible aura, then snap back into place. The frustration that might have surfaced in another cultivator didn't show on my face, but I noted the shortness of my breath as a sign of mental exertion. The technique felt partially out of reach—my Qi control, though excellent for a third-stage cultivator, wasn't at the refined threshold typically associated with stage five.After an hour, I managed a flicker—a half-second in which my hand blurred, losing its physical edge. My palm sank an inch into the shadow cast by the corner of the wall, but the rest of my arm refused to follow. The feeling was profoundly disorienting, as if my hand had been submerged in cold water while my arm remained on land. Sweat trickled down my forehead. Eventually, I decided to stop. The manual was right: Shadow Slip was best practiced in an environment where the entire atmosphere was steeped in darkness. While my near-pure meridians gave me a small edge, the technique was simply too advanced to master on the spot.Still, I told myself, I've gleaned the initial sense of it. In a pitched battle, that momentary flicker might be enough to evade a strike. I made a mental note to refine it under better conditions—possibly at Ebonspire Peak, as recommended. Gathering my breath, I turned to the next technique.Far more promising as a skill I could use right away was Dark Veil, a defensive shield that harnessed shadow Qi to absorb incoming attacks. The text stressed that typical Qi shields at lower stages were often brittle, but shadow Qi had an odd resilience when compressed. It could form a fluid barrier that reacted dynamically to external strikes.To practice, I cleared a portion of the floor, pushing aside leftover debris, to have space for launching a few test blasts at myself. I began by channeling Qi across my arms and torso, visualizing a thin membrane of darkness forming just above my skin. At first, it was intangible, flickering in and out of existence. I recalled the shield I'd briefly used to defend against boulder fragments earlier—it was an unrefined version of this principle.The advanced instructions for Dark Veil demanded a layering approach, building multiple thin sheets of Qi stacked together, each with a slightly different vibrational frequency. The result would be a barrier that could disperse multiple layers of an attack, rather than fracturing under a single overwhelming blow. I tested my initial efforts by projecting a weak Shadow Infusion projectile at my own chest—something unorthodox but effective for measuring the barrier's strength. The flick of my wrist sent a small orb of swirling darkness at me. It struck with a sharp crack, but the barrier held, absorbing most of the impact. My robes fluttered, but the shock didn't penetrate to my torso. The veil dissipated in the aftermath, though—single-use.Undeterred, I tried again, carefully building two layers. This time, I increased the projectile's power. It slammed against the layered veil with a deeper resonance. The first layer quivered and vanished, but the second cushion remained, fully stopping the remainder of the blast. I felt only a faint push against my body. To push further, I conjured a bigger orb of shadow Qi, near to what I'd used to gouge large stones. Hurling it at my own shield demanded confidence. If it overwhelmed the veil, I risked severe injury. My logic was cold, but I trusted my capacity for control. Launching the orb, I braced. The collision rattled my teeth, but after a flash of darkness, my shield survived—barely. Fragments of black Qi fell away like shards of shattered glass. My arms trembled from the backlash, though I remained unscathed. I exhaled, nodding to myself. Dark Veil was definitely within my reach at this stage. Achieving the higher-level multi-layer variants would require more practice, but I could already see how this skill could be a lifesaver.Resting from the repeated impacts on my shield, I turned my attention to Silent Fang. This was an offensive art of frightening subtlety: the idea was to channel a razor-thin thread of shadow Qi at the moment of physical contact, infiltrating an enemy's meridians and disrupting them from within. Rather than obliterate with raw force, it neutralized the target by interfering with their Qi circulation at specific acupoints or meridian gates.This is similar to how I defeated Shen Rong, I mused quietly.That principle resonated with me. In martial arts, I'd learned that precise blows to nerve clusters could paralyze a limb or cause extreme pain. Silent Fang leveraged that concept but took it deeper, injecting a spasm of darkness into the target's Qi channels. The manual provided anatomical diagrams overlaid with energy pathways, highlighting the ideal points of contact. A well-executed strike could incapacitate an opponent far stronger than oneself, provided the element of surprise was there.Choosing a wooden dummy to practice on wouldn't replicate the effect on living meridians, but I could at least refine the physical strike and Qi release timing. Each attempt followed a pattern: I would approach swiftly, extend two fingers or the edge of my palm, and unleash a thread of Qi at the moment of impact. Instead of relying on destructive output, I strove for precision—enough to punch a tiny hole or indent in the wood, rather than shattering it.At first, I overdid it, leaving significant cracks in the dummy's surface. That was more akin to Shadow Infusion's blunt force. I needed to scale back. Each new strike forced me to refine my Qi usage—compressing it to near-invisibility, focusing on minimal area. Slowly, I began to see small, needle-like punctures in the target's surface or thin hairline fractures that suggested an internal disruption rather than an external smash.My arms burned from the repeated motions and the incessant channeling of Qi. And the mental strain was nontrivial: sustaining that level of fine control taxed my concentration. Time slipped by unnoticed; I lost track of how many times I struck the same target, leaving it riddled with stabs and cracks. In a real fight, a single properly timed blow to an opponent's Qi center might suffice. Here, it took hours of drilling to instill the muscle memory and internal mastery required. Yet, piece by piece, I made tangible progress.After a short break—spent swallowing another Qi Replenishing Pill and cycling my breath to steady my meridians—I turned to the technique called Gloomfang Edge, designed to infuse a blade with corrosive shadow Qi. I retrieved the Tang Dao which I haven't used since the confrontation with the uncle and nephew duo. The smith in that remote village had shown skill; the Tang Dao's blade was slender and sharp, balanced for swift, lethal strikes. Running a finger along its edge, I recalled how easily it had drawn blood when I needed it to.Raising the sword, I let my Qi flow into its steel, picturing how the Gloomfang Edge technique should envelop the blade like a sheath of swirling darkness. The Tang Dao's finer craftsmanship seemed to resonate with the shadow Qi, allowing me to weave the energy along its length more smoothly.My first experiment produced a partial success—an uneven aura with flickers of black flame clinging to the edges. When I swung the sword at a battered wooden dummy, the cut carved deep, and a faint hiss arose as residual shadow Qi corroded the wood from within. Splinters crackled, leaving a charred-looking groove. Encouraged, I focused harder, intensifying the film of Qi until the sword's outline shimmered with dark luminescence. Each subsequent slash bit deeper, the corrosive effect widening the wound.Though my Qi reserves were waning from hours of practice, this confirmed Gloomfang Edge's synergy with a refined blade. The Tang Dao, with its lethal balance, was a great conduit. A single slash against a lightly armored foe might prove decisive, turning their own defenses into liabilities as they slowly disintegrated under the sword's malevolent aura.When I finally lowered my weapon, my arms trembled with fatigue, but my thoughts were clear: This method was not for protracted engagements; its Qi consumption outstripped simpler techniques. In a critical duel, though—especially against a skilled or heavily armored foe—an infused Tang Dao might deliver a critical attack.Next, I turned to Shimmerstep, a skill bridging movement and illusion. The manual explained how stepping in and out of partial shadow while modulating one's Qi aura at precise intervals could generate afterimages in dimly lit environments. Each ephemeral duplicate would mirror the cultivator's posture for a moment, effectively confusing an observer about one's true position.The training room was moderately lit by a handful of glowing arrays, and shadows pooled in corners or behind the scattered rubble. That might be enough to attempt Shimmerstep. I returned to the series of dummies I'd set up earlier for Whisping Step drills. This time, however, I wasn't looking to blitz from target to target with sheer speed. Rather, I wanted to create illusions mid-movement, giving the impression of multiple approaching silhouettes.Remembering the instructions, I started by taking a single step while letting my Qi fluctuate. Each time my foot touched the ground, I conjured a fleeting swirl of shadow behind me, a half-image of my form. The effect was subtle, like a watery reflection. But it vanished too quickly to be an effective decoy. Realizing that I needed to sync my breath and Qi pulses more carefully, I slowed down. Each step became a deliberate dance: step forward, exhale, align Qi, and produce a flicker of shadow in my wake.At first, the illusions were faint and intangible—any observer might have disregarded them as mere tricks of the eye. I spent another hour adjusting the precise timing of Qi surges, trying short sprints, sidesteps, and feints. Gradually, the ghostly afterimages lingered a fraction longer, enough to appear as distinct silhouettes, if only for a moment.To test the effect, I angled my approach so I could see my own reflection in a polished patch of wall. When I dashed sideways, I caught glimpses of multiple me's overlapping in the reflection. The illusions hovered for less than a second before dissolving. In a frenetic battle, a second of confusion could be everything.Yet Shimmerstep demanded not just Qi control, but also the confidence to move unpredictably. The manual suggested that advanced practitioners chain illusions in a swirling mass, confounding entire squads of foes. Achieving that seemed a distant goal, but the building blocks were here. By the time I finished, my muscles ached from the repeated footwork, and my mind throbbed from the intense concentration needed to produce illusions while controlling bodily momentum.Farther into the manual, I arrived at a skill that made me pause in fascination: Nightcaller's Grasp. Instead of focusing on personal speed or weapon enhancement, it created external manifestations of shadow in the shape of writhing tendrils. These spectral limbs could ensnare multiple targets, restraining them or even wrenching weapons from their hands.Implementing this was akin to conjuring Qi outside the body in a stable form—more complex than the ephemeral blasts of Shadow Infusion. I set up three battered wooden dummies in a row. The text advised standing still, focusing on the area around the targets, and shaping one's Qi to coalesce out of the gloom.My first attempt resulted in a whirling swirl of dark mist that dissipated without taking form. The second effort yielded something akin to wriggling lines of black smoke, but they had no substance. I realized I needed an anchor—an actual pool of darkness to shape. Dimming the overhead arrays might have helped, but I had no control over the training room's preset formation lighting. Instead, I simply poured more Qi into the swirling gloom, forcibly compacting it until it formed the semblance of tangible lines.Finally, thin tentacles of darkness snaked out from the floor near the dummies' bases. I directed them with my mind, commanding them to coil around the wooden legs. Two latched on, causing the dummies to sway precariously before toppling. The third tentacle flickered out of existence. My Qi supply dipped as though I'd unleashed a high-level technique, a testament to how draining Nightcaller's Grasp could be for a lower-stage cultivator.Encouraged, I kept refining the process. Over repeated attempts, I learned to produce four or five tendrils simultaneously, each about as thick as a man's wrist. Maintaining them for more than a few seconds taxed my reserves severely, but it was enough to imagine how, in a real skirmish, I might immobilize multiple adversaries just long enough to strike or flee. The technique required me to stand rooted in place—unlike Whisping Step or Shimmerstep, there was no easy movement while controlling the tendrils. But as a crowd-control measure, the potential was undeniable.The final advanced skill in the manual was Phantom Whispers—a purely psychological weapon. It had no direct destructive power or physical manifestation. Instead, it manipulated sound, generating illusory voices, echoes, or noises that could disorient foes, ruin their concentration, or drive them into panic.Cults and assassins had historically prized this technique. The manual recounted old tales of shadow-path experts who'd driven entire squads to desertion by filling their nighttime encampments with unearthly moans. In a direct confrontation, distracting an opponent's concentration for even a heartbeat might open them to a lethal strike.Intrigued but cautious—I had no desire to delude myself with illusions—I read the instructions carefully. Phantom Whispers involved sending out subtle pulses of Qi that vibrated the air. One had to shape these vibrations into patterns resembling whispers, footsteps, or other auditory cues. Typically, higher-level cultivators could craft entire symphonies of illusions. At my level, I'd be content with a few ghostly murmurs.The room was still. I inhaled, focusing on the intangible currents in the air. I shaped a minuscule portion of Qi, projecting it outward in waves. My first attempt produced only a faint whoosh, akin to a gentle breeze. Encouraging, but not quite a whisper. Reconfiguring my approach, I tried to modulate the frequency. Then I listened, straining my ears for any hint of the illusions I was crafting.Suddenly, I caught a faint, almost eerie echo drifting around the chamber. It was reminiscent of soft speech—though I couldn't make out words. My face remained impassive, but inside, I recognized the success. The illusions were ephemeral, more sensation than coherent sound. Over the next hour, I managed to produce something that might pass for hushed voices carrying from a distant hallway. If used on an unsuspecting target in a dark environment, it could easily sow confusion.Yet it required intense concentration and stillness. Even a minor slip in Qi output caused the illusions to fade or turn garbled. I understood that perfecting Phantom Whispers was a matter of long practice in controlling the subtle aspects of Qi emission. For now, I was content to have glimpsed its potential.At that point, a look at the chamber's timing array told me only a few hours had passed since I extended my session. I had many more left—nearly an entire day. If I intended to truly integrate these newly explored techniques, I'd need all that time.Time blurred, my only pauses came when my Qi dipped too low, forcing me to pop another Replenishing Pill. Sweat soaked my robes; dust and flecks of shredded wood clung to every fold.As the hours drew on, I made sure to cycle my Qi properly, giving my meridians a chance to recover from the strain. Without impurities, my body handled the stress better than most, but I could still feel the mental fatigue accumulating. My vision grew fuzzy at times; my limbs trembled after certain heavy Qi bursts. At least half a dozen times, I caught myself about to lose control of a technique mid-execution, risking a disastrous Qi backlash.But each time, I re-centered, forcibly wresting my Qi back in line. The intangible swirl of darkness around me became second nature, an extension of my will. The training chamber, with its worn targets, shattered boulders, and scuffed floor, began to resemble a battlefield or a craftsman's workshop littered with half-finished products of my practice.Near the twentieth hour, signs of exhaustion weighed on me more heavily than I'd ever experienced since starting cultivation. My mind felt as if it had participated in multiple triathlons, and my core thrummed with a dull ache. The reserves of my dantian were dangerously low, even with the pills. My meridians felt raw, as though each technique scraped them from the inside.Another short break let me gather my breath, leaning against the wall, eyes half-lidded. I considered a final push: a concluding demonstration that chained at least some of the newly acquired skills, proving to myself that the day's efforts were not in vain.I set up the scenario: I'd attempt a quick Shimmerstep dash, conjure Gloomfang Edge on the Tang Dao mid-movement, then lash out with a series of illusions from Phantom Whispers—perhaps to simulate a real ambush. It was an impractical combination in a real fight, but it would test everything from footwork to Qi illusions. One last flourish before I accepted the toll on my body and retreated.Drawing my Tang Dao, I steadied myself. My Qi sputtered in my dantian, barely enough for a strong infusion, but I forced it to comply. Then I darted forward. My footwork wove left, conjuring faint shadows behind me—one, two, three flickers of afterimages. The illusions lasted less than a second, but I caught a glimpse of multiple me's in the reflection of a broken stone chunk. Good. My arms raised the sword, now coated in a minimal film of black Qi—less potent than earlier in the day, but enough for a demonstration.A wooden dummy loomed ahead. I let out a terse breath, slicing at an angle. The blade hissed, burying itself fully. Splinters exploded, and the dummy toppled. At the same time, I exhaled another tendril of Qi to produce a soft hiss in the air—an embryonic Phantom Whispers effect. The chamber echoed with a faint, eerie murmur. My illusions were feeble, the overshadowing fatigue plain. But the principle was there.Satisfied, I let my arms drop, panting. My vision swam. The floor seemed to shift beneath me. I refused to collapse, though my legs threatened to buckle. Another minute ticked by before I willed my breath to steady. That was enough. I had tested my limit—no, perhaps even surpassed it. Any further, and I risked real damage. With that final demonstration, my 24 hours of training were nearly up.▬▬ι═══════ﺤA dull beep from the chamber's control array announced that my extended time was nearing its conclusion. I glanced around, surveying the wreckage. The training room was in disarray: half of the wooden dummies lay scattered in pieces, several boulders were reduced to rubble, and the air was thick with dust and the lingering residue of shadow Qi. My own garments bore the grime of exhaustive work, speckled with sweat and debris.Gathering what little energy I had left, I hobbled to collect the Veil of Eternal Night and the Whisper of Shadow manual from where I'd left them. I re-latched their cover carefully, verifying no pages had been torn in the chaos. A curious emptiness settled in my chest: a sense of accomplishment tempered by deep exhaustion. My limbs shook slightly, and my spiritual sense felt dull like a blade used far too many times without being sharpened.The door slid open at my approach, the protective formations disengaging with a soft hum. I stepped out of the training chamber, rubbing a layer of dust from my sleeve. It was impossible to tell how much time had passed solely by my inner sense—my body felt drained and disoriented, as if I'd been pushing its limits through multiple lifetimes of exertion.In truth, I had arrived here in the Hall of Resonance the previous night. After five hours of rigorous practice with Whisping Step and Shadow Infusion, the sky had begun to lighten with the promise of dawn. That was when I made the decision to stay another full day—twenty-four hours more—to delve into the advanced techniques of the Veil of Eternal Night.Now, as I emerged, nearly forty-eight hours had elapsed since I'd last slept—my first day consumed by the breakthrough to the third stage of Qi Condensation, then an entire night in the Hall, followed by an additional day and night of constant training. My body and Qi reserves both felt threadbare, as though the smallest misstep might send me toppling over.I expected to see the same bored attendant who had barely glanced at me the night before, but the shift had apparently changed. Instead, a young girl in neatly pressed robes stood behind the counter, her face lit with a bright smile."Good morning!" she chirped, inclining her head politely. "How was your training session?"I halted, trying to compose myself. My aura was intentionally muted—no need to alert anyone to the depths of my fatigue. Even so, the circles under my eyes and my disheveled appearance told the story plainly enough."It was...productive," I managed. My voice came out calm, betraying none of the bone-deep exhaustion gnawing at my core.She nodded enthusiastically, either missing or choosing to ignore my ragged state. "I hope we'll see you again soon. Safe travels!"Offering her a minimal nod in reply, I headed for the corridor that led toward the outer courtyard. My footsteps echoed softly off stone walls, and the crisp morning air rushed in through small archways, bringing me a slight jolt of clarity. Even that was fleeting—my mind and body were on the verge of collapse.By the time I emerged into the courtyard, the sky had faded from the deep blue of night to the gentle pastels of early dawn. Gray-pink light kissed the tops of the sect's taller buildings. A few disciples busied themselves in the distance, likely completing chores before breakfast. Though the bustle was faint, I felt strangely out of place, as though the rest of the world had been moving on a normal schedule while I was locked in my own relentless pursuit.I took care to keep my presence subdued. After nearly two days without proper rest, my spirit felt frayed. Thoughts of the White Room flickered through my mind: the endless drills, the mental puzzles. At least I hadn't carried Qi back then. Now, I had to manage physical exhaustion and spiritual depletion, which suffused my entire being with a sort of leaden weariness.Eventually, I reached the plain stone hall that housed the disciples' quarters. My own room lay at the far end, its simple door unadorned but comforting in its familiarity. Opening it, I stepped inside, and a hush enveloped me. The small lamp on the table had long since burned out, so the only illumination was the dim glow of morning spilling through the high window.Setting the Veil of Eternal Night and the Whisper of Shadow manuals on my desk, I felt its weight as though it were a boulder, symbolic of the power I had wrested from its pages and the price I'd paid in fatigue. A wave of dizziness swept over me, and I had to steady myself against the table to keep from sinking to my knees.Hanging the Tang Dao back on the wall, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. My Qi still churned in my dantian, though it was alarmingly low, fluttering like a candle flame in a breeze. Stripping off my outer robe, I sank to the floor, settling cross-legged but lacking the energy to fully assume a meditation pose. A quiet part of me wanted to do a proper Qi circulation to stabilize myself, but the toll pressed me down like a leaden blanket. My eyes slid half-shut, and I inhaled the still air of my quarters. The faint scent of herbs and old parchment wrapped me in a momentary comfort.A day of rest would be wise, I reasoned. Even with my near-pure body, repeated abuse of Qi demanded recovery. My mind drifted to potential next steps: refining these advanced techniques under better conditions, seeking out Ebonspire Peak for Shadow Slip, or forging a proper Qi-imbued sword for Gloomfang Edge. Perhaps I'd need new alchemical brews to restore my exhausted meridians more efficiently.Yet all such thoughts grew hazy as my weariness mounted. At last, I allowed my eyes to close, my posture relaxing until I was nearly slumped. A wave of real, tangible fatigue washed over me, deeper than any I'd felt since stepping onto the path of cultivation. So this was the price of training one's Qi as well as one's body, of pushing into advanced realms earlier than recommended. The White Room had taught me discipline, but never had I grappled with the double layer of spiritual exhaustion that came from advanced Qi usage.I found myself quietly acknowledging the edges of pain in every muscle, every meridian. But no regret surfaced. The cost was high, and I would pay it willingly if it meant forging a path beyond the limitations of ordinary cultivators.I'd spent the first day crossing the threshold into the Meridian Opening stage, then the first night practicing Whisping Step and Shadow Infusion. After that, I'd forged on for an entire additional day and night with next-level techniques—Shadow Slip, Dark Veil, Silent Fang, and others—pressing into realms of Qi control that most wouldn't attempt until the fifth stage. The staggering drain was evident in every trembling muscle.The White Room's disciplined memory flickered, urging me to remain upright, but even it could not override the intensity of my exhaustion. Slumping onto my side, I let out a slow, measured breath. My meridians still tingled with stray pulses of Qi, but my body demanded rest in a way I could not deny. For now, sleep took me. Natural, inescapable, and undeniably welcome. The room melted into a haze of darkness, and my last coherent feeling was one of muted triumph. Indeed, I had pushed myself to the brink—some might call it reckless. But at least I had tasted the power hidden within the Veil of Eternal Night and Shadow of Whisper, planting seeds that will one day bloom into mastery.And then all thought fell away, leaving me immersed in a blissful emptiness that no White Room drill had ever permitted—a testament to the unique challenges of cultivating Qi and the relentless drive that fueled me to conquer them, no matter the cost.A final faint whisper rolled through my mind, echoing the illusions of Phantom Whispers as I surrendered to the exhaustion:"Rest well," it seemed to say, as though the shadows themselves were telling me. "For tomorrow, we shape your destiny anew."And then, all was darkness—natural, unforced, and calming. My breathing steadied, my consciousness drifting at last into an abyss deeper than any shadow could offer, carrying me into the silence of an overdue slumber.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
I awoke in darkness. The morning dawn had long since passed, and the heavy veil of night had returned, draping the sect grounds in its quiet stillness. Though I had slept for an entire day, my body still bore the fatigue of my relentless training. The strain on my Qi reserves and physical endurance lingered, a quiet reminder of the price paid for progress.Weakness, however, was not enough to dissuade me. Today, I would push further. The Ebonspire Peak awaited-a place where the shadows reigned, where the mist and gloom provided the ideal environment for honing the advanced techniques I had begun to understand. My goal was not mere practice but refinement.I rose and dressed, ignoring the quiet stiffness in my limbs. Outside, the sky was moonlit yet wholly dark. The sect's courtyards lay silent. Only an occasional lamp or glowing rune illuminated a path through the main thoroughfares.My footsteps led me past rows of simple residences. At this hour, most inhabitants were in deep meditation or restful sleep, replenishing their Qi for the coming day. I did not linger. My route wound toward the outskirts of the sect's main grounds, where the grand silhouette of Ebonspire Peak towered over everything else-a silent sentinel wrapped in clouds.A winding, uneven trail led up the mountain, each step taking me higher into the chilled night air. The further I climbed, the denser the mist became. Midway up, I encountered a lone disciple descending. He paused upon seeing me, as though to exchange a greeting, but thought better of it. His robes were damp, and a tired resignation edged his eyes. With the barest nod, he continued down, not a word passing between us.At last, I arrived at an ancient archway carved from dark stone. Cracked and worn by time, it was engraved with symbols representing night, mist, and illusions. A lone attendant in drab robes stood before it, his posture rigid despite the lateness of the hour. He extended a hand, wordlessly requesting payment. One thousand Spirit Stones was the toll to enter Ebonspire Peak. A steep cost, indeed-enough to deter many from frequent visits.I placed the mid-grade stones in his hand, feeling their faint spiritual hum against my fingertips. He stepped aside, permitting me to pass. A subtle buzz of Qi registered against my skin as I crossed the threshold. Formations were woven into the mountain's very foundation, ensuring that only those who paid could enter freely-and only those prepared to endure the mountain's trials would find it worthwhile.Immediately, the atmosphere shifted. The temperature dropped, cold enough that my breath became faint clouds in the moonlight. The mist thickened, so dense that it clung to my robes and hair. Shadows flickered in the corners of my vision, and the air carried an electric tension that hinted at illusions lying in wait.Ebonspire Peak was said to be a living test for stealth and illusion arts. The swirling gloom masked the true shapes of rock faces and cliffs, making the environment seem fluid and ever-changing. Concentration was paramount here; lose focus, and you could step off a ledge or waste hours going in circles through the fog.I moved slowly, my senses attuned to the silent pulses of Qi around me. The peaks high overhead were invisible, swallowed by the blackness and swirling haze. Occasionally, I heard drips of water as the mist condensed on stone outcroppings, echoing faintly in the surrounding emptiness.I arrived at a secluded plateau on Ebonspire Peak, recalling how just the day before, I had only managed fleeting successes in phasing parts of my body into shadow. Shadow Slip had proven particularly elusive, letting me sink a hand into darkness for moments but never quite achieving a complete transition. Here, among the roiling mist and near-perpetual gloom, I intended to push further.From the outset, the environment felt different. The yin Qi that permeated the mountain surged around me in thick waves, more concentrated than anything I had experienced in a standard training hall. Taking a position near a large boulder, I closed my eyes and let the memory of those partial slips guide me. Where before I fought a stuttering resistance-like a membrane snapping me back-now I sensed a more welcoming flow. Each attempt to meld into the shadows carried me deeper, until my entire form briefly lost its solidity. When I opened my eyes, the mist parted as though I were barely there. A small victory.Spurred on, I moved to refine the other arts I had scraped together from the Veil of Eternal Night. My attempts at layering a defensive veil against stronger attacks before had been promising, but still rudimentary. This time, the surrounding darkness practically oozed into the thin sheets of Qi I generated, making them sturdier. I had never felt so comfortable sustaining multiple overlapping layers-usually draining to maintain. Now, the synergy of Ebonspire's gloom extended how long I could hold them, letting me withstand imaginary barrages with more ease than I thought possible.Likewise, I polished the pinpoint Qi strikes that disrupted an opponent's meridians. Where my prior forays had produced small punctures in wooden dummies, I now easily channeled the necessary threadlike Qi, conjuring multiple rapid-fire hits without draining myself to near collapse. The entire environment seemed to bolster my precision, letting me control the injection of shadow Qi with micro-adjustments I would not have managed in standard lighting.At one point, I took up my Tang Dao and reinfused it with Qi to observe how the corrosive aura responded to these conditions. Where before the blade's dark film stuttered or drained me quickly, here it bristled with stable energy, the roiling mist supplying just enough external yin to reduce my expenditure. If a real foe stood before me, they would face a blade that simultaneously sliced and corroded, thanks to an aura that fed on the mountain's shadows almost as much as my own Qi.Finally, I rehearsed illusions and partial afterimages while traversing the plateau, layering them with sharper clarity. I had done something similar in the past-shimmering silhouettes that flickered around me-but now each projected double hung in the air a fraction longer, as though loath to dissipate in an environment so saturated with yin energy. Even my efforts to craft ephemeral sounds blossomed. At one juncture, I tested a half-dozen illusions of distant footfalls, faint whispers, and trickling water all at once, each blending uncannily into Ebonspire's natural hush.Every hour of practice chipped away at my prior limitations. By the time I approached the edge of the plateau, I realized the intangible resistance I once felt had nearly vanished. My intangible slip had become smoother, my illusions far more coherent, and my defensive layering steadier. Though drenched in sweat, I savored a sense of momentum that ordinary training sessions simply never matched.▬▬ι═══════ﺤBeneath the jagged outcrops of Ebonspire Peak, a lone figure continued to train into the late hours, guided only by the faint moonlight and the roiling banks of mist that clung to every surface. Ayanokoji, cloaked in shadows, moved from stance to stance with an effortless, silent grace. No outward signs of strain marked his face or posture, though the aura of tension around him signaled the complexity of each technique he unleashed.From a distance, one might have observed subtle changes in the atmosphere around him. Each time he invoked Shadow Slip, the darkness about his form seemed to pulse as though acknowledging him, letting him fade until only a blurred outline remained. Whenever he extended his palm in a half-seen strike, the shapes of Nightcaller's Grasp would swirl into existence, black tendrils lashing at imaginary foes. The hush of Ebonspire absorbed his illusions, turning them into a silent spectacle of half-formed shapes and ephemeral afterimages.As the night wore on, a new phenomenon began to manifest-one Ayanokoji himself seemed unaware of. At first, it appeared as a faint distortion in the air around him, like heat haze rippling in the desert. But here, under Ebonspire's gloom, it took on a darker cast, resembling a sheen of condensed shadow that draped across his shoulders and arms. Each time he paused to cycle Qi or shift into a new technique, the distortion solidified, hugging his form like a weightless mantle.Were an onlooker familiar with the highest secrets of the Veil of Eternal Night, they would recognize the beginnings of a Shadow Veil. This was no simple Qi barrier or ephemeral shield. According to the manual's final chapters, the Shadow Veil was a naturally forming phenomenon once a cultivator neared the peak of Qi Condensation while steeped in the manual's shadow path. It infused the cultivator's presence with a muffling effect, dampening both sound and spiritual detection. In essence, it was the ultimate synergy of yin Qi, illusions, and intangible stealth-an aura that blurred the cultivator's edges, making them a living embodiment of darkness.At that moment, Ayanokoji stood near a sheer drop, scanning the horizon. His posture remained poised, left hand resting lightly on the hilt of his Tang Dao. The faint, shadowy distortion radiated from his shoulders and back, forming a dim swirl that almost resembled a trailing cloak. Yet if asked, he would have no explanation for what was happening; the text of the manual had hinted at advanced transformations but never stated precisely how or when they might occur.Under the pale moonlight, he took a step forward. Instead of his footfall echoing on stone, the impact was muffled. An outside observer might note how even the scuff of his robes against the rocky ground produced hardly a sound. With each slow breath, the shadow veil flickered, intensifying as though feeding on the dense yin Qi saturating the environment.He tested another short dash, combining Shimmerstep and the intangible flicker of Shadow Slip. In the gloom, multiple afterimages overlaid in quick succession, each one near-flawless. Only a discerning eye would see the real Ayanokoji as he reemerged from intangible partiality. The newly formed Shadow Veil stayed around him, continuing to swirl and breathe with his motions.Though physically taxed, he appeared as calm as the surrounding night, cycling through every technique in turn. The entire plateau seemed an extension of his will, responding to the silent command of his near-pure meridians. And as the hours wore on, the intangible swirl of shadow covering him thickened.If there had been watchers perched on a distant ledge, they might have witnessed something that defied ordinary sense: a cultivator on the verge of blending wholly into the environment, leaving behind only the faintest imprint of Qi. Attacks, illusions, stealth-these had begun to merge into a single seamless style, guided by unwavering discipline.By the time the moon dipped behind the mountain range, Ayanokoji's form was nearly lost in the gloom. Only in the faint shimmer of starlight could one discern his outline-and even that was questionable. Such was the power of a budding Shadow Veil-not a technique he had deliberately conjured, but the natural result of saturating himself in the Veil of Eternal Night's teachings at a near-peak Qi Condensation level. Soundless, intangible, and elusive, it would soon become the hallmark of one who walked the true path of shadows, overshadowing lesser illusions with pure presence.And Ayanokoji, unknowing of this silent transformation, simply trained on, refining each skill with methodical focus. The hush of Ebonspire cloaked his repetitive drills, and when dawn arrived, nothing but faint scuffs on the plateau's surface hinted that a cultivator had used it as a training ground.▬▬ι═══════ﺤI left Ebonspire Peak under the faint glow of a waning moon, each step carrying me away from the roiling mist and down onto more familiar sect grounds. My body ached from hours of unrelenting practice, yet some part of me felt strangely invigorated. The thin mountain air, frigid and laced with residual yin Qi, filled my lungs as I navigated the winding path leading out of that shrouded domain.It was only when I passed the archway at the mountain's base that I realized something had changed. At first, it was subtle-like a sense of clarity, as if a curtain I hadn't known existed had been pulled aside. My breath came more easily despite my fatigue, and each inhalation carried an underlying note of darkness, a familiar hum that pulsed beneath my perceptions. I couldn't pinpoint what caused this heightened awareness. Every swirl of shadow in my peripheral vision looked sharper. Even the torchlit corridors felt less constraining, as though the darkness between the flames was now an extension of me.The old attendant at Ebonspire's gate cast me a passing glance, but I scarcely registered his presence. My thoughts swirled around the training I'd just concluded. On the plateau, my mastery of illusions, intangible slips, and layered veils had elevated in a way I hadn't predicted. A sense of synergy with the gloom had allowed me to refine each technique more quickly. Now, as I walked through the main thoroughfares leading back toward my quarters, that synergy lingered.I paused briefly, glancing toward the distant lights of the main sect grounds. Normally, I would have gone straight to my quarters to collapse into rest, but I recalled an errand I'd been postponing: a mission draft I had prepared a few days earlier. The sect allowed disciples to post requests for assistance-anything from manual labor to refining raw materials-and I'd been meaning to have my stock of ingredients processed by less competent hands. It would free me from the tedium of basic tasks and let me focus on cultivation and specialized alchemy.Stepping off the main path, I threaded through dim corridors until I arrived at my personal living quarters. The small wooden door creaked softly as I entered. I didn't bother lighting a lamp. My eyes had adjusted to darkness so thoroughly that even a faint glow would feel excessive. Besides, the rummaging I needed was simple: I found the neatly rolled parchment on a low shelf, exactly where I'd left it. It contained the list of materials-herbs, beast parts, and assorted ores-along with the specifics of what I wanted done with them. All that remained was to submit this mission request at the hall.In the quiet hush of dawn, I returned to the outer courtyards. The administrative wing of the sect wasn't far, a compound of sturdy stone buildings connected by covered walkways. At this hour, it was nearly deserted, though a solitary clerk behind a counter looked up as I arrived.His gaze was uninterested, flicking to the parchment I carried. Wordlessly, he gestured for me to hand it over. I unrolled the document, quickly scanning to ensure everything was in order-a short description of the raw materials, the tasks, and the Spirit Stone payment I was willing to provide. He took the roll, eyes skimming across the text. With a curt nod, he placed it in a wooden tray on his desk."It will be posted in the morning," he mumbled. I offered no reply. The business was concluded.Tucking my hands into my sleeves, I exited the hall, drifting into the dawn air once more. With the mission draft settled, my schedule felt freer. My body wanted rest, but I sensed an undercurrent of energy-I had grown to enjoy exploring the edge of my limits. I recalled how the final hours at Ebonspire had left me with an inexplicable clarity, a closeness to the darkness that hadn't diminished even upon returning. Tonight would be an opportune time to see how this heightened sense translated into actual combat.The Silent Arena came to mind. A place where disciples fought in absolute blackness and silence, forced to rely on spiritual sense and raw intuition. The White Room had trained me well in the realm of pure technique and strategy, but that was mundane combat-no cultivator Qi, illusions, or intangible steps. My only real experience mixing martial skill with spiritual power was a brief clash with Shen Rong. That was barely enough to prepare me for the complexities of a world teeming with cultivators. If I wanted to survive beyond sect walls, I had to learn quickly how to handle real Qi-based confrontations.Rounding a lantern-lit corner, I found the unobtrusive entrance to the Silent Arena: a stone archway descending into the earth, lit by a single dim lamp. Within, winding corridors branched off into multiple sparring grounds, each sealed by a specialized formation that suppressed sound and light. Stepping inside, I felt the familiar hush. A few disciples stood in small clusters, talking in subdued tones or waiting for an opponent to appear.The place functioned largely on anonymity. One could fight without revealing their identity, entering a ground alone and meeting opponents who simply stepped through from the opposite corridor. After the match, you could choose to speak, exchange pointers, or walk away unnoticed. Most of these sparring arenas were used by cultivators in the fifth stage of Qi Condensation or higher. Outer sect disciples seldom ventured here-the environment was punishingly reliant on advanced comprehension of shadows and spiritual sense. Only those nearing the threshold to the inner sect found it feasible.Keeping my aura subdued, I slid into a corridor leading to one of the smaller arenas. The arrangement was straightforward: I walked to the end, a door slid open, and I entered a circular chamber. The moment I crossed the threshold, the door sealed, plunging me into absolute darkness and silence. No echoes of footsteps. No flicker of torchlight. A perfect void.I stood motionless, letting my senses adapt. Typically, the shock of total deprivation took me a moment to overcome. Yet this time, the darkness felt welcoming, almost comforting. The hush of the air brushed against my skin, or perhaps it was the subtle synergy with the shadows that I'd acquired. I'd never experienced it so acutely before.Moments later, I sensed a faint ripple in the formation: an opponent entering from the opposite side. A match was about to begin. However, the Qi signature I felt was weak, perhaps a fourth-stage cultivator. The hush settled fully, marking the start of the bout.Suddenly, a clumsy wave of Qi swept out, presumably an attempt to detect me. The wave was unfocused, splaying across the arena with no precision. Slipping aside with a minimal shift of my stance, I layered a single small illusion behind them, conjuring the faint sense of footsteps. Their Qi flailed again, missing everything. The technique was severely lacking, and their comprehension was almost nonexistent.Stepping closer, I realized I needed to end this quickly-it was hardly a fair fight. Summoning a wisp of intangible slip to lighten my presence, I closed the gap. Without waiting for them to thrash about, I placed a gentle palm on their shoulder, releasing a mild disruption of Qi. The fight concluded. The entire match lasted mere seconds.Based on the body language I could sense from the disciples, he was confused about what had happened. They realized how thoroughly outclassed they were. I turned away, letting them process the defeat. Outside the corridor, I mulled over the mismatch. This was exactly why only advanced outer disciples-those with a deeper shadow comprehension-dared to come here. Those at the fourth stage were mostly lacking in insight and were easy enemies.▬▬ι═══════ﺤI tried another ground. Again, a fourth-stage disciple, again minimal skill in navigation by spiritual sense. They left themselves open to illusions, intangible approaches, or even a direct assault. No challenge. Even a third fourth-stager showed up. He had a better sense of the environment-briefly tracking me via short pulses of Qi. He lasted half a minute before I cornered and lightly tapped him in the flank.It was only after these three bouts that a suitable match emerged: I stepped into one of the larger silent arenas, the entrance sealing behind me as the formation activated. Instantly, I sensed a presence across the void, far more substantial than the lesser disciples I had faced before. The Qi signature felt thick and steady, likely a fifth-stage cultivator accustomed to combat. Although the darkness remained absolute and my ears registered no sound, the faintest ripples of Qi painted the outline of their movements in my mind's eye.They struck first, launching a concentrated surge of shadow energy that fanned out in an arc, each thread carrying a corrosive edge. The wave closed in swiftly, leaving little room to dodge. I willed a half-intangible slip, letting the swirling darkness around me merge with my body, reducing my physical presence so the energy slid just wide of my torso. Even with my newfound synergy in the shadows, the brush of that wave crackled against my skin, making my arms tingle from the residual Qi.From the dissipating shockwaves, I tracked their next move. Another volley, more compact and focused, scythed through the darkness toward me. A second dodge was trickier-my intangible slip demanded precision, or I risked draining precious Qi reserves I couldn't afford to waste. Instead of fully phasing out, I invoked a pinpoint Dark Veil on my left forearm, concentrating shadow Qi to absorb the brunt of the blow. The impact rattled my bones, a reminder that my opponent's raw power outclassed most I'd faced. Still, I maintained footing, letting the hush swallow any grunt of effort.Sensing a momentary lull in their onslaught, I countered with a short, lancing wave of Shadow Infusion, aiming to test their defense. They deflected it almost casually, dispersing my Qi with a layered barrier of shadow. If I tried a bigger blast to break through, I might exhaust my Qi dangerously quickly, so I kept my output modest. In that instant, it became clear: my adversary's higher realm granted a more substantial Qi pool. An extended trade of brute-force blows would favor them. I needed to rely on adaptability, illusions, and movement.I masked my presence with illusions-a ghostly swirl of footsteps behind them-while stepping aside. Their counter-sweep tore at empty air, revealing a slight gap in their stance. I exploited it, slipping in close with a combination of half-intangible steps and precise footwork. My palms churned with minimal bursts of Qi, each strike aimed to disrupt their meridians rather than deliver crushing damage. Even so, I felt the strain mounting. My Qi levels dipped with every technique, while their reservoir seemed deeper, steadier.They retaliated by invoking a more advanced skill, unleashing a twisting mass of darkness that coiled like serpents in the void, each tendril designed to latch onto my position. Dodging one or two was easy; dodging half a dozen demanded all my attention. I tapped further into intangible slip, letting three of the tendrils pass through my semi-incorporeal form, while deflecting a fourth with a carefully placed veil on my shoulder. The last two I evaded by conjuring faint illusions at the perimeter, luring the attacks astray. My heart thumped at the edges of my hearing-a sign that I was burning Qi faster than ideal.Even so, my spatial awareness in the dark arena gave me a discernible edge. Each ripple of Qi marked the cultivator's location, each shift in the gloom painting an image in my mind. I closed the distance on them gradually, never exposing myself to a direct hit. In turn, they hurled more arcs of corrosive Qi. My illusions wove around me seamlessly, short bursts of intangible phasing preserving my Qi. Despite my caution, the occasional shockwave brushed me, stinging my arms or rattling my balance. Still, I stayed on course, refusing to cede an inch.Finally, I spotted the opening I had waited for. The enemy, tiring from repeated large-scale attacks, allowed a fraction of delay between their summons of shadow blasts. I feigned another dodge, then sprang in with a sudden Whisping Step. My left arm formed a tiny, pinpoint Dark Veil-an insanely risky defense, but certain if placed perfectly. Their reaction was fierce: a final, desperate slash of condensed darkness aimed at my torso. I angled the micro-shield precisely where I sensed the blow would land, feeling the collision of Qi reverberate along my bones. The force nearly toppled me. But it didn't break through.In that critical moment of contact, I infused my free hand with a concentrated sliver of shadow Qi, ramming it into their ribcage at an acupoint that disrupted the meridian flow. They staggered, the fight ending in a quiet pop. The barrier lifted, revealing them dropping to one knee, struggling to reorient. I stood, slightly out of breath, arms tingling from the recoil of their onslaught. Despite the draining toll on my Qi and the newfound pains in my limbs, victory was mine.I turned without ceremony, letting the darkness cloak my exit. In that fight, I'd sensed it again: the darkness bending more readily, illusions weaving without friction, intangible steps aligning with my movements almost autonomously. The Shadow Veil had manifested itself once more, anchoring me in the hush, keeping me a step ahead of my opponent's sense of sight or Qi detection. Not quite the apex, but enough to dominate the night.Outside the barrier, I felt the resonance thrumming in my meridians, the synergy with shadows feeding each technique. It was so easy to read their attacks, and so fluid to respond with minimal movement. And that was when I recognized the underlying shift: I could see, feel, and direct the darkness around me with startling ease. The illusions, intangible phases, and pinpoint veils all wove together naturally, leaving me less drained than I should have been.Leaning against a wall in a quieter passage of the Silent Arena, I recalled the advanced phenomenon described in the Veil of Eternal Night: the Shadow Veil, a natural aura typically manifesting near the peak of Qi Condensation. It explained the heightened synergy, the muffled steps, and the illusions forming with minimal Qi. The text mentioned that this phenomenon usually only surfaced when one's meridians and yin alignment reached a certain point-something beyond standard mid-level breakthroughs.Confusion tugged at me. I was not that far along. By conventional measure, I should be at best at the peak of the lower stages, nowhere near the apex. Yet the synergy was undeniable. Ebonspire Peak's intense yin environment must have triggered some accelerated resonance with my near-pure body, giving me partial access to an ability that others only glimpsed at the final cusp of Qi Condensation.▬▬ι═══════ﺤEntering another corridor, I sensed an aura in one of the larger sparring chambers-a strong one. Even from outside, its weight pressed on my spirit. A swirl of Qi teased the edges of my consciousness, carrying a depth suggesting the sixth stage of Qi Condensation, a tier generally reserved for inner sect disciples. A gap of three realms yawned between us. By normal logic, I had no place confronting an opponent of that caliber. But I was curious about the results of the past days and how I fare in comparison to someone at the peak of the mid-stage of Qi Condensation.I stepped through the entrance. The door closed behind me, dropping us both into absolute blackness and silence. My opponent's aura flared, scanning the arena. Almost immediately, I sensed their dismissiveness. They must have recognized my comparatively weak realm, labeling me a trifling outer sect disciple-someone they could toy with.The fight commenced with a shockwave of Qi. They sent it forth lazily, expecting I'd succumb in moments. I channeled a small intangible slip, letting the swirl of darkness cradle my form. The attack whooshed past with minimal disturbance. My opponent released a huff-likely annoyed at my deflection. Another wave came, stronger, sharper. This time, I formed a minimal Dark Veil patch against my forearm, precisely aligned to intercept. A jarring impact spread through my bones, nearly forcing me back. Even so, I stood my ground. My Qi wavered.A third attack followed, this time in multiple arcs, each angled unpredictably. Advanced techniques from a presumably skilled cultivator. My intangible slip flickered in and out, letting two arcs sail through empty air. I employed illusions to mask my true position from the remaining arcs, threading my way closer. A frown undoubtedly creased my opponent's brow though I couldn't see it; they had expected a quick victory over some lower-stage disciple. Yet here I was, closing the gap.They laughed-though the silence devoured the sound. I felt it in the vibrations of their Qi. Then they unleashed a barrage of swirling tendrils, each crackling with raw power. Dodging them tested the limit of my reflexes. I phased out partially, illusions dancing behind me, but one tendril clipped my side. A stinging ache flared along my ribs. I coughed, tasting iron on my tongue. Clearly, these intangible steps cost me dear effort, and each collision drained me. My Qi pool ran shallow compared to a sixth-stage cultivator's reservoir. I couldn't afford a prolonged slugfest.Blood trickled past my lips as I steadied myself. My synergy with darkness allowed me to deflect many blows, but I couldn't keep it up forever. The gap in raw strength was evident. My advantage lay in illusions, footwork, and perfect timing. Summoning illusions now, I scattered faint flickers of Qi along the arena perimeter, emulating distinct attack signatures. My enemy recognized the pattern of swirling Qi as if I were about to cast a projectile technique. They shifted to intercept, presumably confident they had deduced my next move.But I switched tactics at the final second, letting the illusions unravel. Instead of flinging a projectile, I burst into a Whisping Step, appearing nearly instantly at their flank. But as a sixth-stage cultivator, he sensed the shift. They swung an arm coated in Qi, a backhand aimed at my head. I had half-anticipated this reaction, so I chained another Whisping Step, layering it with Shimmerstep illusions. The intangible synergy lent a bizarre effect-suddenly, multiple versions of myself appeared, each carrying a faint Qi signature. My enemy faltered for a precious heartbeat, uncertain which silhouette was the real target.In that moment, I launched a third Whisping Step, weaving in a minor Phantom Whispers effect. Though the arena consumed sound, the subtle illusions created a faint disturbance that brushed against their spiritual sense. Enough to compound their disorientation. I reappeared to their side, launching a decisive strike. Still, my opponent's cultivated reflexes allowed them to respond, unleashing a desperate burst of Qi that battered my torso. I felt bones rattle, warm blood rising in my throat. For a heartbeat, I thought I might collapse.But I clenched my jaw, ignoring the sharp pain. 'Silent Fang'. I funneled a needle-thin thread of shadow Qi into my fingers, striking their meridians at close range. The disruption in their channel flow prevented them from immediately coalescing a fresh defensive barrier. With that opening, I poured the remainder of my Qi into a point-blank Shadow Infusion aimed at the center of their chest.A muffled explosion rippled through the hush. My opponent had no chance to dodge or brace. The wave of energy flung them backward, slamming them into the arena's stone wall near the entrance. A dull reverberation echoed through my bones. The darkness lifted, revealing them crumpled on one knee, coughing violently. For a short moment, I thought they might recover and launch another assault. But they didn't. The fight ended in my favor.I stood panting, arms trembling, taste of blood in my mouth. My Qi dangerously close to empty. Pain lanced my chest, and I realized that I'd sustained deeper injuries than I initially felt. Still, I had done it-defeated a sixth-stage cultivator in a true spar. Something no mere third-stage disciple should even contemplate.I quietly left the arena before they could rise. Others might have demanded a forfeit or tried to claim bragging rights, but my goal wasn't fame. I needed real combat experience and had obtained it, albeit at a steep cost to my body and Qi.Emerging into one of the main passages, I felt how battered I was. Blood stained my robe at the chest, arms, and legs where various strikes had grazed or pounded me. The bustling hush had given way to a subdued crowd, a few disciples eyeing me with puzzlement. Some recognized the battered form, making mental notes. Surely they suspected something remarkable had occurred. A third-stage outer disciple rarely limped away from an advanced arena with his own power.I forced my breathing to slow and began to navigate the corridors. By now, the sun had crept high above the horizon-a sight I wasn't used to, given my current training routine. Stepping outside the underground entrance, the daylight nearly blinded me, making me squint. The entire courtyard felt alien. No fresh breeze of dawn, but rather a midday sun warmth that underscored how long I'd been fighting in darkness.Pressing a hand to my wounded chest, I resolved to head for the medicine department to buy a few supplies. Even though I had a knowledge of alchemy, an immediate need for bandages and disinfectants trumped the time it would take to concoct pills for every cut and bruise. A basic kit would suffice, letting me stabilize my injuries before resting.I traversed the sect's walkways, occasionally receiving curious glances from passing disciples. None approached me directly, though many must have wondered why an obvious outer sect disciple was wandering about in such disarray under the bright sun."Sigh...," A small sigh escaped my mouth "so much for the topic of not standing out too much..."My steps carried me to a large building marked by a simple wooden sign: Medicine Department.Inside, the familiar smell of herbs and sterilizing agents greeted me. Rows of shelves packed with jars and wrapped packets lined the walls. A clerk behind a small desk looked up. He saw the stains on my robe and immediately gestured me to a corner stocked with bandages, medicinal salves, and various antiseptics. I gathered what I needed-wraps and a small bottle of disinfectant. The clerk handed them over wordlessly, and I placed a handful of Spirit Stones on the counter. Transaction done, I left without fanfare.My next destination was the mission hall I'd visited earlier to submit that refining request. Stepping inside, I found the same attendant from the previous night. He recognized me, eyebrows lifting slightly at my bruised condition. I approached and inquired about the status of my posted mission.He slid a thin wooden tablet across the counter, each line etched with the name of a cultivator who had agreed to handle my refining request. I glanced at it, noting three names I didn't recognize. One, however, stood out: Lin Mei. Memories stirred-she had previously handled some discrete tasks for me, though I had never revealed my identity to her.I nodded, slipping the tablet inside my robe. "I want to arrange a meeting this evening in a private room here. Let them know I'll be here at dusk."The attendant gave a swift scribble in his ledger and then looked up. "Understood. We'll send word to all four."That was all I needed. Turning, I moved through a side door leading to a quieter courtyard, avoiding the busier main entrance. Every stride jarred my injuries from the Silent Arena fights, but I showed no outward response-pain was a familiar companion, a mere inconvenience I had learned to work through. My body demanded rest, but I ignored the protest. I had tasks to complete, and no time to succumb to trivial discomfort.▬▬ι═══════ﺤReaching my modest living quarters, I slid the door shut behind me and paused for a moment, exhaling slowly. The injuries along my ribs and arms throbbed in time with my pulse, yet I gave no sign of distress beyond a slight pause in motion-pain, after all, was just pain, nothing more.My eyes landed on the bandages and bottle of disinfectant I had bought earlier. I set them neatly on a low table. Stripping off my blood-smeared robe, I inspected the bruises and shallow cuts. Some were superficial, others more pronounced, but none threatened critical damage. I methodically dabbed disinfectant into the deeper wounds. It stung fiercely, but I didn't flinch. If I had learned anything, it was that pain should neither be shown nor wasted; my entire life had taught me to absorb it silently, forging my tolerance.A faint sizzle arose from the cleansing process. I observed it with clinical detachment, acknowledging the chemical reaction without letting it interrupt my calm. Then I wrapped the bandages across my chest, arms, and legs. My Qi sense told me I'd need dedicated rest-or a specialized healing pill-for a complete recovery, but for now, merely stabilizing the injuries sufficed.Once everything was snug, I sank onto my mat and let my thoughts drift to the next stage of my cultivation: a Qi Condensation Pill I'd meant to refine some time ago. Ever since I broke through to the third stage, my schedule had been devoured by repeated training sessions-training in the Hall of Resonance, culminating at the Ebonspire Peak and just now, fighting at the Silent Arena. But now, with illusions, intangible footwork, and the faint resonance of the Shadow Veil pushing my performance beyond my actual realm, the pill's benefits could be even more dramatic. It might catapult me from the third stage to the fourth in mere days, something that would normally demand months or even years of standard meditation.Despite the allure, my current state was unsuitable for advanced alchemy. Refining a pill, especially one that impacted a cultivator's core growth, demanded unwavering focus, stable breath, and precise Qi control. Attempting it while injured risked contamination, pill failure, or even a backlash. Nevertheless, once I healed sufficiently, I would attempt it. The gap between the third stage and opponents at the fifth or sixth demanded higher cultivation, and the Qi Condensation Pill was my fastest route.I popped a Qi Replenishing Pill into my mouth, its faintly bitter taste dissolving on my tongue as a cool wave of energy trickled into my depleted meridians. My eyes drifted shut, and I eased into meditation, letting the hush of my quarters envelop me. It took a few moments to calm my breath, align the scattered threads of Qi in my dantian, and prompt each thread to circulate smoothly.Letting out a steady breath, I reasoned that the injuries, though noticeable, wouldn't sabotage my Qi flow. If that was the case, I concluded I'd be safe enough to attempt my Qi Condensation Pill refinement soon. My plan was straightforward: concoct the pill, then leverage its benefits to catapult my realm from the third stage toward the fourth. I had a short window left until I had to meet the four cultivators who'd accepted my refining mission in the evening-enough time to try refining the pill.With my mind settled, I made my way out of my quarters and across the sect's midmorning bustle toward the Alchemy Department. My steps remained even, despite the dull ache creeping along my ribs. At least the day was bright and clear, allowing me to navigate quickly past disciples who were milling around, completing their own errands or daily tasks....The Alchemy Department's main hall was large enough to accommodate a flurry of novices receiving instructions or senior alchemists conferring about higher-level pills. Typically, Bai Yun manned the reception desk, guiding newcomers and gatekeeping access to specialized stations. Today, however, she was nowhere in sight. Instead, a fourteen-year-old-looking girl, someone who would be in their last year of middle school, the age I left the White Room, sat perched behind a wide wooden counter, an open journal in hand. The cover and script looked suspiciously like the same type Bai Yun always read, possibly a different volume of the same series.For a moment, I paused, trying to process the change. What happened to Bai Yun? Perhaps she'd advanced or simply moved to another position in the department. Rationally, it was none of my business, yet I was curious. But more than that, I found my attention caught by the younger girl's rapt focus on the journal, her eyes skimming lines with the same absorbed intensity Bai Yun once showed. It seems that those manuals are lucrative enough for someone to apply for this job.Sensing my gaze, she lifted her head, meeting my eyes. I caught a flicker of annoyance across her features. Then she snapped the journal shut, furrowing her brow in evident displeasure at being interrupted. For a few seconds, she just stared, seemingly sizing me up in return, taking in my bandages and battered state.She raised an eyebrow and beckoned me closer with a quick gesture. "You're staring a lot," she murmured in a teasing tone. "So, what-were you that enthralled by my stunning beauty?"I stood unmoved. The entire notion that I'd be interested in a child in such a way was absurd. "I'm not interested in children," I said evenly. My voice lacked any tremor of emotion-merely a factual statement.Her cheeks darkened, and her lips tightened in an irritated line. "Children? You look like a kid yourself," she shot back. "How old are you, anyway?"I suppressed a sigh. If she realized I was a teenage cultivator as well, this conversation risked devolving. "That's irrelevant," I answered, my voice unwavering. "I'm here for a purpose, not idle chatter."She flicked her eyes over my black flame insignia-the mark identifying me as a Novice Alchemist. "You're a novice too?" Her sarcasm receded, replaced by mild curiosity and shock. "Guess you're a year younger than me at most. So you're not that big."Her remark failed to nettle me. Let her draw her own conclusions. She scrutinized the bandages wrapping my arms and torso. "What happened that left a novice alchemist looking like you just came from the slaughterfields?"I shrugged, offering no details. "I don't know."She arched an eyebrow again, but I withheld further explanation. Scanning someone with spiritual sense was considered invasive, especially among equals, so she didn't pry beyond that. "Alright," she muttered. "So you're here to buy ingredients or something?"I nodded, letting my attention shift to the main corridor leading to the storage rooms. "Precisely," I said. "I need to purchase a few more items, plus some fresh resources. Then I'll see about booking a station if one's available."Her eyes flicked pointedly at my bandages once more. "But seriously, if you're so beat up, can you handle refining pills right now?"I gave the faintest shrug. "It's manageable."She huffed, clearly unimpressed, and reopened her journal. "Fine, do what you want," she mumbled. Then, as I took a step to leave, she lifted her eyes again. "Your name?""Ayanokoji Kiyotaka," I answered simply, turning my gaze back to her.A ghost of a smirk played on her lips. "I'm Li Xue," she replied. "You're free to head back to the quartermaster's office for supplies or forms. If you need anything else, just...let me know."Our brief exchange over, I headed past the desk, ignoring the mild sting that radiated from my side.Moving down the hall, I turned into the storage area. Neat wooden racks lined the walls, filled with processed herbs, containers of elemental essences, and carefully labeled jars. A squat man in plain robes-likely the quartermaster-was perched on a stool, sorting inventory records. He glanced up as I approached, noticing my battered appearance but saying nothing about it.Without pleasantries, I handed him a short list of items. "I need these for pill refinement," I said quietly, enumerating the half-dozen or so herbs and spiritual catalysts I lacked.He nodded, checking the shelves. "Most are in stock," he murmured, pulling jars and pouches as needed. Two items required me to wait or pay extra for limited stock. I agreed to the extra cost. My finances could handle it for now.Once the quartermaster bagged everything, I set a modest pile of Spirit Stones on the counter. The hush of the corridor behind me amplified the faint clink of stones.I returned to the reception, Li Xue remained behind the counter, her journal reopened though she wasn't much further in the journal then before. Her eyes flickered toward me as I approached. She didn't bother to hide her curiosity but she also didn't speak immediately. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, as if gauging my next move."I need to book a refinement room," I said opening my pouch. "For five hours."Li Xue blinked, then let out a short scoff, tapping a finger against the cover of her journal. "Either you're dedicated or just plain reckless."I didn't respond, merely waiting.She exhaled and flipped open a thick, leather-bound ledger. "Lucky for you, there's a room available," she muttered, running a finger down the neatly written columns. "Standard alchemical station, warded against explosions. No additional enchantments. It'll be a hundred Spirit Stones."I nodded and placed the exact amount in front of her.She counted the stones swiftly before taking a wooden tablet from a nearby shelf, scribbling a few quick notes onto its surface. Then, with a flick of her wrist, she pushed it toward me. "Refinement Room 7, third corridor down the left. You've got five hours. Don't burn the place down."I accepted the tablet without another word, turning on my heel and making my way toward the refinement halls.The Alchemy Department was well-structured, built for efficiency. Wide corridors branched off into private rooms, each reinforced with protective formations to contain volatile reactions. The further one progressed into the inner chambers, the more advanced the rooms became-some equipped with rare formations that could enhance pill quality, others meant for high-level alchemists requiring specialized conditions.I did not need such luxuries yet.Arriving at the designated room, I placed the wooden tablet into the slot beside the door. A faint hum resonated as the protective formations recognized my temporary access. With a quiet creak, the heavy wooden door slid open, revealing a clean workspace-a sturdy furnace, a preparation table, a storage shelf, and a ventilation system that ensured fumes wouldn't linger.I stepped inside and shut the door behind me, letting the silence settle.Setting my bag of ingredients onto the table, I took a moment to assess everything. The materials were fresh, the furnace well-maintained. There would be no external factors interfering with my refinement.I allowed a slow exhale. Now, it was time to work.The first step is always the same: systematically sort each component. I confirm the Jade Ginseng Root is pristine, with no bruises or discoloration. The Spirit Root Powder must be measured out precisely-any lumps or uneven texture would create pockets of misbalance in the furnace. The Shadowmint Leaves I'd purchased, carefully, appear fresh; I test them by gently pressing out a drop of essence. It's got that faint black vapor, a sign of potency. I set the leaves aside, ready to extract more thoroughly in a moment.Crimson Flame Resin, softened earlier with mild heat, sits in a small ceramic cup, a sticky red substance that needs delicate handling to avoid scorching. The Silver Lotus Seeds are next-fine powder or grated slivers might be best. I run a thumb over them to ensure the moisture content is minimal. Finally, the Condensed Starflower Petals, delicate and easily spoiled, wait in a sealed box, emanating a faint pastel sheen that indicates they're still potent. This is one of the final additions, so I keep it sealed until the right moment.I placed each ingredient in separate porcelain bowls on the table, methodically checking them off my mental list. Bai Yun's process echoed in my mind-she had triple-checked each item's readiness before igniting the furnace. The memory was so vivid it was as if I were back in that observation hall, watching her movements.I approached the furnace and placed my hand on the ignition crystal, channeling a precise stream of Qi. A steady blue flame flickered to life inside the chamber, casting a soft glow across the room. Adjusting the controls, I stabilized the temperature, ensuring it remained within the optimal range for the first stage of refinement.The first ingredient, the powdered Spirit Root, was added slowly. Bai Yun had demonstrated a measured approach, ensuring the powder dispersed evenly and fused with the flames. I followed her method, watching as the energy within the furnace shimmered slightly, signaling successful integration.Next, I extracted the essence from the Shadowmint Leaves, pressing them carefully to collect the potent liquid before dripping it into the furnace at calculated intervals. A soft hiss accompanied each addition, the vapor swirling upward and merging with the growing medicinal energy inside.Each ingredient had its designated time for introduction. The softened Crimson Flame Resin required quick placement to prevent overheating, while the grated Silver Lotus Seeds were added gradually, allowing their potency to blend smoothly. The Condensed Starflower Petals were the final step, their delicate energy stabilizing the entire mixture.As the refinement process progressed, I noticed something immediately-the control over my Qi had improved significantly. Despite this being my first attempt at the Qi Condensation Pill, I found it unexpectedly easy to regulate the flames and integrate the ingredients. However, I pushed the thought aside for now, focusing solely on the task at hand.The energy in the furnace pulsed rhythmically, indicating that the mixture was nearing completion. Placing both hands on the furnace, I infused a steady stream of Qi, guiding the process as the ingredients condensed into pill form. The glow from within the furnace intensified briefly before settling into a steady radiance.Moments later, the reaction ceased. The flames receded, and I extinguished them entirely with a controlled breath. I lifted the lid of the furnace carefully, revealing a batch of freshly refined Qi Condensation Pills. Their surfaces were smooth, their structure intact. Placing one onto the impurity measuring device, I watched as the reading settled at 81%-a low-grade pill, just barely missing out on mid-grade.The Qi Condensation Pill was leagues more complex than anything I had previously refined, yet I had succeeded on my first attempt. And even a low-grade Qi Condensation Pill was valued at the same price as a mid-grade Qi Replenishing Pill due to its effectiveness.I still had enough materials for four more batches. Now, I returned to my earlier observation-alchemy felt much easier. My breakthrough to the third stage of Qi Condensation, combined with my impurity-free body, had significantly improved my Qi control. Additionally, my training in precise Qi manipulation for combat had strengthened my ability to regulate the refinement process. My Qi pool, while still limited compared to higher-realm cultivators, was now large enough to sustain continuous refinement without immediate exhaustion.Deciding not to waste time, I proceeded with the second batch. This time, my movements were more fluid, and each step was executed with greater confidence. The result was an impurity level of 77%-a marked improvement over the first batch.The third batch followed soon after, reaching 75% impurity. I was making rapid progress, refining pills of increasingly higher quality with each attempt. Taking a brief pause, I consumed a Qi Replenishing Pill to restore my energy before moving on to the final two batches.With renewed focus, I refined the fourth batch, my control now seamless. The impurity level measured at 72%. Encouraged by this steady improvement, I began the final batch, adjusting my flame control and Qi infusion with even greater precision. When I checked the results, the reading displayed 69%.I exhaled slowly, satisfaction settling in. If a senior alchemist had witnessed this scene, they would have been dumbfounded. A thirteen-year-old refining Qi Condensation Pills flawlessly, batch after batch, with zero failures-such a feat was unprecedented. And after the initial attempt, all pills were of mid-grade.With this level of skill, I could confidently undergo the examination for Apprentice Alchemist and pass with ease. But I had no reason to do so, it would hinder my humble business at the moment. Once I enter the inner court I will have no reason to hide anymore. Then I can undergo the examination. Besides an inner court disciple reaching Apprentice Alchemist isn't an unaccomplished feat. Bai Yun was the best example.Suppressing the urge to consume the pills immediately and immerse myself in cultivation, I instead turned my focus to cleaning the refinement room. The lingering scent of heated herbs and faint traces of residual Qi clung to the air, but with careful sweeping and wiping, I left the space as pristine as when I entered. Once satisfied, I gathered my belongings, secured the pouch containing the freshly refined pills, and stepped out into the corridor.The dimly lit halls of the Alchemy Department were quieter at this hour, the usual bustle of disciples refining pills or studying manuals having thinned out. My footsteps were steady as I made my way back toward the reception, where Li Xue was once again stationed behind the desk. She had returned to her journal, flipping through its pages with focus, but the moment she sensed my presence, her eyes snapped up.Her gaze lingered on me for a second longer than usual, sharp with curiosity. She wasn't very skilled at concealing her thoughts-her expression made it clear that she was itching to ask something. Still, she waited, as if expecting me to volunteer information. When I merely placed the key to the refinement room onto the desk without a word, she grunted, clicking her tongue in mild irritation before speaking."How did it go?" she asked, her tone laced with feigned nonchalance.I met her gaze evenly. "It went well," I replied, my voice as measured as ever.She frowned slightly at my lack of elaboration. "That's all? Just 'it went well'? What did you even refine?"I resisted the urge to sigh, though I allowed a soft exhale to escape unnoticed. Realizing she wouldn't let the topic drop, I reached into my storage bag and retrieved a random Qi Replenishing Pill, one of my older refinements. It wasn't anything special-just a low-grade pill with an impurity level of exactly 80%. I had refined far better ones since then, but I saw no need to show her my most recent work.Li Xue took the pill from my outstretched hand, turning it over between her fingers. Her initially skeptical expression shifted to one of mild surprise as she examined its smooth surface and the faint gleam that distinguished it from ordinary low-grade pills."This looks... way too clean," she murmured, narrowing her eyes. "What's the impurity level?""80%," I stated calmly.Her fingers tightened around the pill slightly. "Wh-what?" she stammered, her demeanor slipping. "80%?! That's just short of mid-grade!"I remained silent, simply watching her reaction.She stared at the pill again, then at me, as if trying to reconcile the information. "Wait-hold on," she said, her eyes narrowing. "Novice Alchemists barely manage to refine Qi Replenishing Pills with impurities below 90%, even after months of practice. You're younger than me, you should only have been here for a year, right?"I gave a slight nod, confirming her suspicion without elaborating. I didn't want to correct her, that it had been only two months since my arrival here in the monastery.Her lips parted as if to say something, then closed again as she seemed to reconsider. Finally, she leaned back in her seat, folding her arms across her chest. "You're a monster," she muttered, more to herself than to me.I didn't respond.A few beats of silence passed before she let out an exaggerated sigh, rubbing her temple. "Fine, whatever," she mumbled. "You don't want to talk about it, I get it. But if you start refining mid-grade pills consistently, don't expect me not to notice."She flicked the pill back toward me with a deft motion. I caught it effortlessly and stored it away before giving her a short nod. Without another word, I turned and left the reception area, stepping back into the open sect grounds.The night was calm unlike Li Xue, the air cool against my skin. The weight of my storage bag was reassuring at my side, heavy with the pills I had refined.I made my way across the moonlit sect grounds toward the mission hall, its tall, lantern-lit entrance guiding me like a beacon. Despite the quiet hour, a few disciples milled about in the courtyard, some returning from errands, others heading out on tasks.The moment I stepped inside, the attendant recognized me and approached with a respectful nod. "The private room is prepared," he said, leading me down a side corridor. We came to a small chamber fitted with a low table at the center, surrounded by simple wooden chairs. A pot of Chinese tea sat on the table, accompanied by an assortment of snacks-steamed buns, crisp vegetables, and a small dish of roasted seeds. The attendant bowed slightly, then departed, leaving me to wait.I settled onto a cushion, letting the hush of the room envelop me. The space was designed for discreet discussions, its walls lined with subtle, half-hidden runes to guarantee privacy. My eyes flicked to the steaming teapot, noting the aromatic swirl rising from its spout.I reached for the pot next to it filled with hot water with a steady hand, pouring the liquid into a small porcelain cup. With measured movements, I rinsed the cup, letting the liquid cleanse the porcelain before discarding it into the waste bowls.Steam curled upwards as I refilled the cup, this time with tea. Lifting the cup, I inhaled the aroma which was subtle yet rich, carrying hints of roasted leaves and a faint floral undertone, before taking a sip.The candle flames flickered gently against the runed walls, casting elongated shadows that wavered with the faintest shift in air. The silence within the chamber felt almost meditative, a momentary pause amidst the perpetual motion of my plans.Within minutes, I heard faint footsteps in the corridor. All four cultivators arrived simultaneously, filing into the room with varying levels of curiosity. Lin Mei was among them-the youngest aside from me, probably fifteen or sixteen, wearing plain sect robes and carrying a small bag of her refining tools. We'd crossed paths before, though not under my true identity. The other three were visibly older, ranging from perhaps seventeen to twenty. Two of them were male, the third a tall young woman with a pragmatic air about her. They took in my presence with quick, sweeping glances, each reacting differently.Lin Mei froze for a heartbeat, recognition dawning in her eyes. She looked at my bandaged forearms, then my face, her gaze flickering with a mix of curiosity and wonder. The other three cultivators, however, stared more openly. The initial moment of surprise turned into disbelief. It was expected-few outer sect disciples, let alone someone my age, possessed the means or influence to commission such a mission.One of the men, a sharp-eyed cultivator with a solid frame and the beginnings of a goatee, voiced the question lingering in all their minds."A... kid?" he asked, his tone tinged with doubt. His eyes flicked over my robes, noting the black flame insignia that marked me as a Novice Alchemist.I made no outward show of annoyance. His skepticism was reasonable. "Sit, please," I said calmly. "We'll talk business soon. But first, I require a small formality."They exchanged uncertain glances, then settled around the table. Lin Mei sat to my left, her gaze still pinning me with silent questions. I reached into my robe, withdrawing a set of jade slips carefully inscribed with non-disclosure clauses. "I'd like you to sign these," I continued, my voice unwavering. "Before we discuss the details of this project, I need your confidentiality guaranteed."The three older cultivators bristled visibly. The other male cultivator scowled, crossing his arms. "Is this really necessary?" he muttered, eyeing me with half-lidded skepticism. The female disciple frowned and looked like she might stand up and leave. Only Lin Mei looked unperturbed, though her fingers tapped anxiously on the table.I returned their gazes with calm indifference. "It is," I replied. "If you prefer not to sign, you're free to go. But you won't learn anything about this mission."For a tense moment, the three older disciples appeared ready to walk. Then, something in my demeanor swayed them. Reluctantly, each took up a jade slip and pressed a droplet of Qi signature onto it, finalizing the non-disclosure agreement. Lin Mei did the same without hesitation, her face guarded yet curious.After signing, the first of the older cultivators, the man sporting a goatee, introduced himself as Zhang Rui. He looked to be in his early twenties, his voice resonating with a low but measured confidence. To his right sat the female cultivator with sharp features, Guo Xiulan. Her hair reached her shoulders and she seemed to size me up with every glance. The last of the older disciples was called Han Qiang, a tall disciple with a slight stoop to his shoulders, giving the impression that he spent more time hunched over scripture or refining tasks than fighting. All three bore the markings of outer sect disciples on the edge of higher ranking or specialization. At last, Lin Mei also introduced herself, though I already knew about her."Well then," Zhang Rui said as he set the slip aside. "If that's handled, can we at least hear who you are and what you want us to do?""I am Ayanokoji Kiyotaka," I answered. "A novice alchemist, but I require assistance in processing certain resources. Before we go into details, allow me to clarify something regarding my capabilities."I reached into my storage bag, retrieving a small jade bottle. Uncorking it, I tipped a single Qi Condensation Pill-the one with a 69% impurity-into my palm. The pill bore a faintly lustrous sheen, far above what most novices could produce. Immediately, a collective surge of shock rippled around the table."Is that a..." Guo Xiulan began, her eyes wide. "A Qi Condensation Pill?!" Her voice wavered, uncharacteristically high-pitched.I nodded. "Yes. Mid-grade, with an impurity rate of 69%."Their astonishment was almost palpable. Even Lin Mei stared, as though reevaluating everything she knew about me. Qi Condensation Pills were notoriously difficult, something that even many Apprentice Alchemists struggled to refine at mid-grade. That I-who looked barely thirteen or fourteen-had created it defied normal logic.Han Qiang's mouth hung open for a moment before he collected himself. "How-where did..." He trailed off, uncertain how to phrase the question."You made that?" he finally asked."Yes."Guo Xiulan shook her head in disbelief. "Then why aren't you taking the exam to become an Apprentice Alchemist?" she asked. "You could pass instantly with that skill.""The reason is the same as why I insisted on the non-disclosure agreement," I replied flatly, returning the pill to its jade bottle. "I have no desire for undue attention or sect politics. For now, being a Novice Alchemist suits me."They exchanged glances, but none voiced any further objections. The implications were clear-I was a cultivator with resources, skill, and the ability to pay well. Whatever initial doubts they had about my legitimacy were rapidly dissolving.The tea on the table grew cold, untouched amid their shock. Even so, curiosity and respect were evident in their eyes. They saw me not just as a "kid" but as someone whose alchemical skill surpassed typical novices by a large margin-someone capable of paying well for their refining services and clearly wealthy enough to host a mission.Lin Mei, who had been silently observing, finally spoke. "I see... so that's how it is." Her voice was quiet, almost thoughtful. A trace of understanding flickered in her gaze-she had likely connected the dots and realized that I was the one behind the secret instructions she had received before.I acknowledged her words with a small nod but offered no further elaboration. "If you are still interested," I said, shifting the conversation back to business, "I require assistance with processing raw materials. Payment will be negotiated based on complexity. The key point remains confidentiality."Zhang Rui crossed his arms, clearly still trying to wrap his head around the situation, but nodded. "Fine. What kind of materials are we talking about?""Herbs and alchemical ingredients, primarily," I answered. "They need to be handled with precision before refinement, and I lack the time to do all of it personally."Guo Xiulan frowned slightly. "So, you'll be handling the final alchemy yourself?""Yes. Your job will be limited to ingredient preparation. The work is straightforward, but I require consistency and skill."Lin Mei spoke up again, this time more certain. "You're hiring people like us so you can increase production without spreading yourself too thin.""Correct," I affirmed.I gestured to the stack of documents on the table. "We can go through each raw material in detail, scheduling who does which stage of refinement. Let's begin."Thus, the meeting continued. Their confusion melted into focus on the practicalities of the job. They asked about processing times, required tools, and additional pay for rare tasks. I answered succinctly. Despite my young appearance, the mid-grade Qi Condensation Pill had spoken loudly enough on my behalf. The more they heard, the more serious they became, realizing the potential windfall if they proved reliable.When the negotiations drew to a close, each disciple signed the contract's final line. We set a timeline to meet again once a month. I collected the documents, tucked them into my bag, and then stood up. Bowing briefly, they excused themselves, each wearing a new sense of purpose. Only Lin Mei lingered a second longer, opening her mouth as if to speak, then closing it again-finally departing without a word.I watched them go, ignoring the faint ache that flared across my side once more. The meeting was a success. My ability, though partially revealed, remained cloaked behind a veil of half-truths and non-disclosure clauses. None could safely whisper about my advanced alchemy without risking severe sect penalties.Stepping out of the mission hall, I found the night cool and quiet. The moon hung low, draping the courtyard in gentle silver. The weight of my storage bag felt comforting against my hip, the newly refined Qi Condensation Pills nestled inside. At last, I could seek my quarters and truly rest.▬▬ι═══════ﺤI reached my quarters shortly after leaving the mission hall. Sliding it open, I slipped inside, locking out the night's chill. My storage bag thumped against my hip. With a measured breath, I shrugged off my robe, folds of cloth falling around my feet. The lingering aches from the evening's exertions called for rest, but I had one last task to see through before sleep claimed me.Cross-legged on my mat, I set out several small containers-each one filled with Qi Condensation Pills of varying impurity levels, fruit of my day's alchemical efforts. My bandaged arms performed the motions without hesitation, signifying that, while battered, I remained poised to cultivate. Extracting the only one of the lower-grade pills, I popped it into my mouth.Almost instantly, an eruption of energy spread through my body, more concentrated than anything I'd experienced in previous stages. My eyes drifted shut as I guided the fierce flow of power into my dantian, regulating each current with careful breath. The meridians in my arms, torso, and legs glowed with invigorated warmth, every swirl of energy traveling without obstruction. Though the pill was low-grade, it greatly surpassed simpler Qi Replenishing formulas. A lesser cultivator, or my past self at the second stage, might have needed two hours to absorb its potency. But my near-pure meridians allowed me to channel the pill's might in mere minutes. With the Umbral Absorption Technique, the entire pill's essence dissolved into my Qi pool in fifteen minutes, leaving me with a comfortable hum of power thrumming in my veins.A faint, earthy odor reached my nose. Glancing down, I saw faint traces of impurities forced out of my pores-dark flecks of dirt and peeled skin matted against my bandages. Now the last scraps of impurity had been expunged and I now had a body with zero impurities. Exhaling, I shook off the dried debris, not letting the minor mess distract me from my progress.Deciding to push further, I selected a mid-grade Qi Condensation Pill next, curiosity stirring about how its more potent energy would compare. Dropping it onto my tongue, I felt a rush of heat ripple through my meridians in an instant. The difference was stark: a single rank in pill quality, yet it felt like an entirely separate beast. My Qi pool surged with each pulse, the denser potency requiring more diligent control. Even so, the synergy in my body accepted it readily. Despite its doubled force, I still required only about twenty minutes to fully absorb the pill's essence-a testament to how free-flowing my meridians were now that impurities no longer clogged them.I continued at a steady pace, pill after pill, each wave of Qi briefer yet more intense than the last. My battered form drank in this energy, healing minor bruises and wounds while simultaneously expanding my dantian's capacity. Hours blurred together in focused meditation, the hush of my quarters broken only by the soft sound of pills shifting in their jars.Each pill I consumed nourished my Qi pool, steadily pushing me toward that elusive boundary between the third and fourth stages of Qi Condensation. Sweat mingled with the remnants of impurities on my skin, but my mind remained calm.By the time I consumed the last pill from my containers, my meridians thrummed with raw potential. I sensed the near approach of a barrier, that vague presence an intangible dam standing between me and the next realm. My dantian pulsed in anticipation, craving just a bit more to breach the threshold.I lifted my gaze from the scattered empty containers. Only five more Qi Condensation Pills of comparable quality, and I could break through into the fourth stage. This rate of progression was nothing short of absurd.For a while, I simply sat, letting the Qi settle in a final circulation. My injuries, while not magically cured, felt far less draining. Tomorrow I will break through to the fourth stage but for now, I will rest.▬▬ι═══════ﺤBy midday the next day, my alchemical tasks were already in motion, setting the tone for another busy day. After a short morning rest, I'd taken on the Alchemy Department's refining stations again, just as I had the previous day. Most of my time was spent re-creating Qi Condensation Pills-half a dozen batches in all, each yielding mid-grade pills. What might have been tedious or strenuous alchemical chores became almost second nature, allowing me to guide the flames, ingredients, and spiritual essence with minimal strain. By late afternoon, my stock of Qi Condensation Pills had multiplied impressively, filling multiple jade bottles.While working, I also fielded deliveries from the four cultivators I'd hired for preliminary processing tasks. They dropped off partial raw materials-herbs, powders, and catalytic elements-which I swiftly turned into Qi Replenishing Pills and a few jars of salves. This was relatively simpler than the intricate Qi Condensation Pill formula, so I breezed through the steps. My focus was direct and efficient: weigh the materials, confirm their readiness, then merge them in the furnace using the same synergy that had proven so effective. By early evening, I'd produced enough mid-grade Qi Replenishing stock to keep me afloat for future barters, not to mention the next time I met Shen Rong for exchanges.Come evening, satisfied with the day's results, I returned to my quarters. The sun dipped behind the distant peaks, painting the sky in deep oranges and purples, and a hush settled over the sect grounds. Once inside, I locked the door, set my newly concocted pills aside, and took a moment to breathe. My injuries from the Silent Arena were healing steadily, helped along by the mild analgesic salves I'd crafted earlier. Though an ache still gnawed at my side when I moved too fast, it was nothing I couldn't handle. I placed a small lamp on the floor, allowing its soft glow to illuminate my mat and the modest space around me.I settled cross-legged, pulling several jade bottles in front of me-Qi Condensation Pills of varying impurity, the fruits of countless hours standing at the furnace. If my calculations were correct, taking a few more pills at this moment might tip me over the brink from Qi Condensation Stage 3 into the fourth stage, often called the Purification Realm. With that advancement, my Qi pool would expand dramatically and my overall power would again increase.Choosing one of the mid-grade pills, I popped it into my mouth. The energy erupted, a dense, almost tangible rush that I quickly funneled into my meridians. Emboldened, I took a second pill, then a third-each wave pushing me closer to that intangible wall separating the third and fourth stages. My limbs quivered under the pressure, but my mind remained steady, forging the siphoned energy into my dantian. The hush of the night deepened around me, accentuating every pulse of Qi. Slowly, the swirling vortex in my dantian intensified, gorging on the pills' potency at a pace that would seem impossible to a typical third-stage cultivator. Had I not possessed near-pure meridians, these pills alone would've demanded hours to ingest, likely leaving me exhausted mid-way.I sensed my meridians stretching to accommodate the surging Qi, a clear sign that the fourth stage was within reach. My chest tightened as the boundary loomed. Another pill dissolved across my tongue, its vigorous energies thudding into my system. My dantian flared for a heartbeat, then abruptly everything snapped into place: the barrier fractured with an inward rush, flooding me in a wave of exhilarating clarity. I gasped, though no outward cry escaped me; all my senses zeroed in on the new depth of Qi swirling in my core.It was done: I had advanced to Qi Condensation Stage 4-Purification Realm. My entire being hummed with energy, meridians feeling more elastic and robust than ever. For a moment, I simply reveled in the sensation. Normally cultivators need a much longer time to break through from the third to the fourth stage but as I didn't need to remove the impurities in my body, I could solely concentrate on Qi absorption which allowed me to progress with an inhuman speed.I have now officially reached the unofficial mid-stage of Qi Condensation. While there were official distinctions like lower stage, mid-stage, and late-stage in future cultivation realms like the Foundation Establishment Realm, there was no official one in the Qi Condensation Realm, the beginning of cultivation.Still, cultivators in the first three stages are known as lower-staged cultivators. Cultivators who are in the ranks between the fourth and sixth stage are referred to as mid-staged cultivators while those who are at the seventh and eight stage are referred as late late-staged cultivators with the eight stage being the peak of Qi Condensation. And now as a fourth stage cultivator, I have reached the mid-stage.Lifting my eyes to the lamp's gentle glow, I allowed myself a measured exhale. Each beat of my heart sent fresh Qi coursing, as though confirming my new realm. This acceleration in progress was anything but normal, but I offered no outward sigh of relief or amazement. Rather, I accepted it with the same calm that had guided me thus far. Slowly, I rose, rolling my shoulders to test my newly bolstered Qi reserves, and found them stable, the aches in my body now away.It seems that the breakthrough healed my wounds. I thought to myself, removing my bandages and seeing clean skin without any blemishes underneath.With that final thought, I lay down, my mind drifting into sleep.▬▬ι═══════ﺤStepping into the Alchemy Department once more, I noted how the morning rush had ebbed. Rows of disciples crowded around supply shelves, but the hum of voices was notably subdued compared to the prior day.Navigating the now-familiar corridors, I reached the front reception area to find Li Xue perched behind her desk, flipping through the same journal she'd been reading previously. The moment I approached, she looked up-and froze. A tiny furrow creased her brow, as though she was trying to pinpoint what, exactly, was different.Her voice carried a note of sharp curiosity. "You again, huh? You look... I don't know. Stronger." She tapped the journal's edge with a fingertip. "Something happened, didn't it?""Nothing happened," I replied simply, not bothering to elaborate further. If she sensed my realm's advancement, I had no intention of confirming it.Li Xue's eyes narrowed, scanning my posture, my aura. She exhaled in mild exasperation, clearly unconvinced. "Alright, if you say so," she muttered. "Need a room for your precious pill refining, I assume?"I nodded. "Yes."She checked her ledger, pen gliding over columns, then waved me closer. "We have a mid-tier station available today-should suffice for your needs. The fee is the same as before." Another tap of her pen against the desk, and she seemed to remember something. "Actually, wait."I paused, expecting some bureaucratic detail about the station's schedule. Instead, her expression shifted, a glimmer in her eyes as she snapped the ledger closed. She opened the journal on her lap, turning pages quickly until her gaze landed on a scribbled note."A mission came through," she said, words slow and deliberate, as if weighing each syllable. "It's... somewhat unusual. The sect is gathering disciples from the medicine and alchemy departments-likely to accompany the main squad on an external assignment. Could be a chance to test your... skills." She glanced up. "Interested?"I felt a subtle pull of surprise. An external mission? Usually, the sect relied on more senior alchemists or specialized herbalists for expeditions. Regardless, Li Xue clearly wanted an immediate reaction. Her eyes, alive with curiosity, bored into me. But I kept my composure, brow barely lifting in a sign of mild interest."Why?" I asked, my voice calm.She shrugged, but her smirk deepened. "No idea. Whatever it is, it's big enough for them to ask me to keep an eye out for potential candidates." She flicked the journal shut again. "But it's your call. Do you want to know more, or-?""Thank you for the offer," I said, voice kept neutral.Li Xue's lips formed a tight line, as if waiting for more of an explanation-but I offered none. Instead, I dropped a nod, indicating I'd heard her out. Her expression implied she wasn't finished, though, and in the dim light of the reception hall, I could sense the air thickening with unspoken questions."Let me know if you're in," she said finally. "I'm keeping a short list. They need staff. Your name came up." She pursed her lips. "I was asked to pass the info along, see if you'd be interested."I looked at her, weighing the possibilities. Surely it could be an opportunity to hone my practical skills, and maybe gather resources or knowledge I wouldn't find within the sect walls. But it could also be a trap, an entanglement in sect politics I'd tried to avoid."Sigh. Give me the details," I said at length.A slight smile curved on her lips. She tapped her journal with a fingertip, as though ready to read from a hidden page of information. "Alright, well-let me start at the beginning."And just as she opened her mouth to explain, a voice from deeper in the hall called her name. Li Xue shot me a look, half-apologetic and half-impatient. She tilted her head toward a side door. "Come on," she said under her breath. "We'll talk in private."I followed her toward the dim corridor, each footstep echoing against the polished floor. If this mission was as serious as her tone suggested, it could reshape some of my plans entirely. Right as we reached a small alcove out of earshot, Li Xue lowered her voice further.She parted her lips to speak--and the day's chatter abruptly swelled around us, an alchemist's voice calling out from behind. I couldn't make out what they wanted, but Li Xue glanced back, then back to me, her expression tense. "Hold on," she muttered. "Just... wait here."Then, without another moment, she slipped away, leaving me in the half-lit nook, the faint hum of the Alchemy Department pressing in. My mind buzzed with questions: What exactly was this mission? Why had they taken an interest in a mere novice like me?A quiet exhale escaped my lips. This might be a chance for growth-and a risk I couldn't fully gauge yet. Regardless, I'd agreed to listen, so I will continue to wait."Ayanokoji Kiyotaka."The words came from nowhere-calm, deliberate, carrying an eerie weight. My gaze flicked up instantly, scanning the dim corridor. I felt no presence, no shift in Qi, yet someone had spoken my name. Cold, calculating, and precise."Enter."The command came with quiet finality after a short silence, smooth, and unwavering. A door to my right creaked open, spilling a narrow stream of golden light into the dim corridor. The room beyond was obscured, its interior bathed in soft illumination, revealing only the outline of a polished wooden floor and the faint scent of incense drifting outward.I remained still for a moment, weighing my options. There was no detectable Qi fluctuation, no presence pressing against my senses-yet the voice had carried an undeniable authority, as though denying the invitation was never truly an option.With measured steps, I crossed the threshold. The door swung shut behind me without a sound.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Stepping across the threshold, I found myself in a small, softly lit chamber. Faint incense smoke curled through the air, giving the room a gentle haze. My gaze settled on a single low table near the center, behind which sat Elder Lu, robed in his dark robes accented with violet embroidery that marked him as an elder. An aura of calm authority clung to him—though I felt no overt pressure, I sensed a command in the way he regarded me.I approached with measured steps. For a moment, neither of us spoke. His eyes flicked over me, as if confirming the difference Li Xue had noted. But if he was surprised by my elevated cultivation, he gave no outward sign.He broke the silence in a level tone. "You've come, Ayanokoji. I trust you realize I summoned you here, not out of whim, but for something important." His voice carried a subdued weight.I inclined my head slightly, giving nothing away. "I gathered as much when Li Xue vanished and I was invited to this room."A corner of his mouth twitched, though it failed to become a real smile. "Yes, well... Li Xue can wait. This matter transcends typical administrative tasks." He tapped the tabletop with a single finger, each tap deliberate. "I want you to participate in the external mission the sect will soon dispatch."The proposition was direct, yet hardly unexpected. "I heard something along those lines." My voice remained calm. "But by standard criteria, I don't qualify, do I? Disciples typically need to be at least an Apprentice Alchemist or at the fifth stage of Qi Condensation."Elder Lu's gaze sharpened. "You are not a typical disciple." He let the words hang. "We've seen the business in the outer sect, your mid-grade Qi Condensation pill, and the speed at which you cultivate. Some eyes might dismiss you as a Novice Alchemist. I am not so easily misled."I allowed a small exhalation through my nose, acknowledging his insight without confirming anything. The sect knows even more than I anticipated.He inclined his head. "This mission requires more than run-of-the-mill novices. If you can do half of what the rumors claim, your presence would be a boon to the main squad.""And if I refuse?" I asked, tone level.A flicker of amusement passed over Elder Lu's face. "I wouldn't recommend that." He paused. "But let's set aside coercion. This is an opportunity for you, too. The mission leads beyond sect territory—there may be resources or knowledge you won't find locked in the Alchemy Department. And the rewards themselves will benefit you greatly."I studied him quietly. "Hence the invitation."He nodded, leaning forward slightly. "Precisely. Though if you truly had no interest, I doubt you'd have accepted Li Xue's offer." His voice softened, yet maintained a tinge of confidence. "Most novices only dream of an assignment that puts them side by side with the main squad."I gave the mildest shrug. "I'll need more details. Where exactly does this mission go, and what does it entail?"Elder Lu's dark eyes flicked with a hint of approval. "Your caution is apt. Rest assured, the external assignment isn't a 'trap.' We rarely encounter hostilities with the other powers. The Shadow Monastery is hegemonic in Nocturnis Vale, after all. Conflicts are minimal."His confidence didn't entirely soothe my doubts, but he continued anyway. "We need skilled alchemists on the squad, not just for forging pills during the expedition, but also for handling unforeseen circumstances. A simpler mission for most—yet it becomes a valuable chance for someone of your capabilities."I considered his words. Unknown resources and knowledge were tempting indeed. "I see." My answer was noncommittal, but my tone signaled I was listening.Elder Lu let the silence breathe for a moment, then said, "You were personally named by at least two elders—Sun Min and Mo Hong—both praising your 'talent' and 'potential.' If they see fit to mention you, that speaks volumes."My mind flickered to past interactions with Elder Sun Min and Elder Mo Hong. "So they're behind this invitation?"He shrugged. "They nudged it along. I merely formalize the offer." A half-beat passed. "If you'd kept a lower profile, maybe no one would have recommended you. You did quite the opposite."I met his gaze. "It was never my intention to garner notice. But I suppose that no one can hide from the sect."A faint half-smile appeared on his lips. "Indeed. And the sect leadership can read between the lines. You can't hide behind the mask of a mere novice forever."I paused, then asked, "So why the urgency from you specifically?"He settled back in his seat, arms folding across his chest. "Because I'm tasked to recruit fresh blood for this mission. Yes, typically we pick Apprentice Alchemists or cultivators at Qi Condensation stage five, but I have the leeway to add exceptions." A single nod. "You're that exception."A short silence followed. The incense curled in lazy spirals, accentuating the tension. "All right." I glanced at him. "I'll consider it. But I'll need thorough details. Duration, objective—""You'll have them," Elder Lu interjected, lifting a hand. "I'll relay a formal briefing within the day. For now, I wanted your tacit acceptance." He paused, eyes keen. "Are you in?"I exhaled slowly, measuring the potential benefits: an external quest might indeed net me rare ingredients or knowledge. Politically, refusing might rouse suspicion; acceptance might tie me deeper into sect affairs—both a risk and an advantage. "I'm in."Elder Lu inclined his head in acknowledgment, satisfaction flickering in his gaze. "I'll have Li Xue provide you with the final mission overview."I bowed lightly and took my cue to leave, stepping out of the incense-laden chamber. As the door whispered shut behind me, the corridor's cooler air greeted me, and my thoughts turned to the mission ahead. Already, I weighed how to leverage it for my own ends—no matter how beneficial it was to the sect, I'd ensure it served my advancement.▬▬ι═══════ﺤA day later, I found myself standing at the main gates again—those very gates I'd passed only a few months ago. This time, I was gathered alongside twelve other disciples for an expedition to the Veil Caves. At a glance, the majority wore insignias tied to medicine or smithing; the only other from Alchemy was a haggard-looking youth whose name I didn't catch. Around us, the early morning light cast long shadows on the polished stone walkway.A broad-shouldered disciple in a sleek black robe, embroidered with midnight accents, stood at the center of the group. His confident posture and his robes indicated his status as a core disciple—much like Yin Yue's rank. Judging by the density of Qi around him, he was likely at the eighth stage of Qi Condensation, a prime candidate for leading missions. As I approached, I heard a few female disciples—four or five—clustering around him, giggling and addressing him by name: "Senior Brother Shen Lei, you're definitely the best choice to lead us!" "Shen Lei, don't overwork yourself for our sake..." It was clear that Shen Lei relished the attention, though his gaze occasionally wandered, calculating who else might be paying him any mind.Aside from him, two other different students had a strong aura surrounding them. By my guess, they would be 'late-stage' cultivators, but not yet at the peak of Qi Condensation.Everyone, aside from another lone disciple, were inner sect disciples, meaning the lone disciple and I were the outcasts. However, his status was a bit more special as he was known for some accomplishments in his department and was on the brink of reaching the next rank, a rank that would be equal to Apprentice Alchemist in the Alchemy Department.I kept to myself, scanning the faces. Aside from the gaggling group, there were several men from the smithing department, each with heavy frames and strong arms, plus a single slender, doe-eyed female from the medicine department who stood quietly off to the side. Sensing my gaze, she glanced my way. In the next moment, she walked over.She offered a polite nod. "I'm Ren Liqin of the Medicine Department," she introduced herself. A faint smile lit her expression. "Stage six Qi Condensation. I do a lot of healing-based tasks and I'm hoping to gather special herbs from the Veil Caves. And you?"I returned the nod, speaking succinctly. "Ayanokoji Kiyotaka, from the Alchemy Department. Fourth stage. A pleasure to meet you." It was enough to convey my position. My short answers didn't deter her; she carried on with genuine curiosity."I see," Ren Liqin replied, pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "It's not often we see a fourth-stage cultivator on a mission like this." She laughed, not in a mocking way, but light and airy. "You must be special in some way."I offered no real response, simply acknowledging her words with a neutral hum. It only seemed to amuse her further. Ren Liqin proceeded to chat about her department's aspirations for the trip—searching for shadow-infused herbs or studying unique toxins. Even though my replies remained clipped, she seemed delighted by the exchange.Suddenly, the two burly cultivators strode over, both sporting smithing department badges. They were likely brothers, as they each called the other "Brother Gao," referencing their clan's shared surname, and occasionally patted each other's shoulder in a comradely way. One was Gao Chen, with a shaved head and thick forearms, and the other was Gao Wei, wearing a trimmed beard and equally robust arms.Gao Chen stepped forward first, squinting at me with clear disdain. "Oy, pipsqueak, move aside. We were hoping to speak with her," he said, jerking his chin at the female disciple.Gao Wei joined him, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, beat it. You're out of your league. She doesn't need some puny fourth-stage cultivator pestering her, little Alchemist."I stood unmoving, face impassive. Ren Liqin sighed, crossing her arms. "Gao Chen, Gao Wei—I've told you two repeatedly—I'm not interested in either of you. And he's not causing me any trouble, so leave him be." A flicker of annoyance crept into her tone.Gao Wei, sporting a short beard, added, "Look, we're just watchin' out for you. Some outsider who's only fourth stage, meddling here..." Ren Liqin glared. "I've already rejected you two multiple times. Stop this. I'm talking with him of my own accord."While they bristled, uncertain whether to escalate, Shen Lei finally noticed. He approached, five female admirers in tow, all wearing varying expressions of amusement or disdain. The girls behind him shot Ren Liqin heated looks—some brand of rivalry lingered there. With a casual flick of his hand, Shen Lei defused the situation, telling the smithing brothers to "remember we're all part of the same mission." The pair scowled but backed off.Relieved, Ren Liqin offered a polite nod toward Shen Lei. "Thank you, Senior Brother Shen Lei," she said, though her words carried minimal warmth. She then left, returning to her previous spot, annoyed by the interruption.Shen Lei's gaze flicked to me when no one else was watching. Smiling broadly as though nothing were amiss, he reached out and clasped my shoulder in a friendly manner, yet his eyes conveyed a different sentiment. "Try not to get too chummy with Liqin, hmm?" he murmured quietly. "We wouldn't want any misunderstandings." A glint in his look implied a clear warning: Don't push your luck.I met his gaze without reaction. This was clearly a personal claim. He gave my shoulder a light squeeze before releasing me, stepping back with the same easy grace. The female cultivators around him scarcely noticed, fully occupied with vying for Shen Lei's attention. The Gao brothers cast me one last sneer before drifting back, muttering under their breaths. I just watched, unruffled by their theatrics.So this was the group I'd be traveling with: a leader fixated on dominance—perhaps seeing Ren Liqin as his or a potential conquest—and two sworn smithing brothers competing for her attention as well. She, for her part, wanted none of it, while the gaggle of female admirers to Shen Lei's right eyed any rival suspiciously. The other men and that lone haggard Alchemist stood in the background, either indifferent or quietly sizing each other up. The only calm disciples were the two 'late-stage' cultivators. Our group dynamic seemed ripe for complications. If politics or petty rivalries broke out, I would remain unaffected—unless it hindered the mission.Inwardly, I sighed.
Why is everyone so sexually focused here? Until now, the people I've met in the sect weren't nearly this arrogant or preoccupied with rivalry and attention. Is it my luck? I already have a bad feeling about this mission.
In the distance, a sect attendant called us to form up near the carriages. The Veil Caves awaited. Whether these new comrades proved more trouble than help, I was about to find out.▬▬ι═══════ﺤFor several hours, we rode in the cramped confines of a Qi-fueled carriage known as the Nightwind Cruiser—a sleek, midnight-hued vehicle shaped more like an elongated palanquin than a typical wagon. Its sides were etched with faint runes that fed on the sect's Qi arrays, allowing it to hover lightly above the uneven terrain and travel at speeds of nearly a hundred kilometers per hour. A shield barrier shimmered around us, deflecting stray rocks and gnarled roots, but the interior felt more claustrophobic than protective."This trip will take us a week," our leader, Shen Lei, announced from his seat near the front. Five female disciples clustered around him, one leaning on his shoulder, another gripping his arm. "We'd normally use a flying ship, but the turbulence in this region—the swirling shadow Qi—makes flight too risky. So we rely on the Nightwind Cruiser." He let one of the admirers open the cabin's small window, revealing the accelerating blur of the Nocturnis Vale outside. Shadows cloaked the forested hills, deepening as we ventured further from the sect.I stayed in a corner, shoulders slightly hunched to avoid brushing up against the haggard alchemist dozing by the cabin's rear. Next to me sat Ren Liqin, who had drifted over here again after an awkward start outside the gates. She tilted her head, studying the passing scenery with genuine interest."This carriage is incredible," Ren Liqin said brightly. "No animals needed. Just Qi fueling everything. I never thought it could maintain such speed on these uneven roads."I inclined my head. "Practical design. I'd like to own one someday."She smiled at the notion. "A personal Nightwind Cruiser? That's quite the ambition."Suddenly, a coarse laugh erupted from the other side of the cabin. Gao Chen and Gao Wei, the two burly smithing disciples, had overhead my comment. "Hah! Owning a Nightwind Cruiser?" Gao Chen sneered, leaning forward. "You couldn't afford its nails even if you sold yourself into slavery."Gao Wei joined in, their voices echoing in the confined space, drawing glances from the few other disciples dozing or quietly observing. "We can tell, you're from some backwater—talking big without a coin to your name."I exhaled, unimpressed, letting the mockery slide. The tension in the carriage thickened, but no one else interceded. Ren Liqin's eyes flashed annoyance, and she parted her lips to defend me, but I shook my head lightly, urging her to ignore them. My silence only seemed to provoke the Gao brothers further, yet they ultimately lost interest when Shen Lei, overhearing, cast them a cold glance.Minutes turned to hours. The skies outside deepened from a somber gray to a near-black gloom. Nocturnis Vale lived up to its reputation: thick clusters of skeletal trees and jagged rock formations dotted the horizon. Occasionally, strange silhouettes flickered at the edges of our vision. Most of the disciples retreated into their own thoughts. Some dozed, while others whispered among themselves.All at once, a prickle grazed my consciousness. I sensed an oppressive Qi presence—but Shen Lei acted first, bristling like a hawk."Stop!" he barked, voice cracking through the carriage. The Nightwind Cruiser lurched to a violent halt, screeching in protest. People jolted in their seats; one disciple tumbled forward onto the floor with an angry grunt.It was Gao Chen who took the worst of it. He had been standing to reach for a water flask when the carriage halted, so he toppled face-first into a row of seats. A muffled thud resounded, followed by a yelp of pain. Rising with a scowl, he glanced around indignantly—and caught a glimpse of Ren Liqin still sitting calmly by my side. She wore a bemused grin that quickly turned into full laughter, evidently amused by Gao Chen's humiliating fall. He flushed a deep red, casting a resentful look my way, but I remained focused on the sudden hush that descended.Shen Lei held up a hand. "Quiet!" he hissed. "All of you—shut up!"The carriage cabin fell silent, tension thick. Outside, the ground began to quake, a low rumble swelling into a thunderous vibration. The shield barrier wobbled, sparks dancing across its surface. An ominous pressure pressed into the air, making each breath feel like inhaling liquid lead.Something—monstrously strong—was approaching. The aura was powerful, unleashed, and savage in a way not like the elders—but less refined, more bestial. The other disciples went pale, retreating behind minimal aura signatures, hoping not to attract attention.Shen Lei swallowed audibly, his face losing color as he stared through a sliver in the carriage's window. A monstrous shape emerged from the darkness, a giant beast towering at least 50 meters, thickly furred, with twisted horns protruding from its back. Its steps pounded the earth, each stomp launching tremors that nearly toppled the Nightwind Cruiser. Glowing red eyes scanned the surroundings. The entire world seemed to recoil at its presence. It resembled a mutated bear of colossal size, its fur matted and dripping with what might have been leftover gore.
Fascinating, this is the first time I've encountered such a creature in this world, and one capable of ending us all. How interesting.
A hush of horror spread through the disciples. Ren Liqin clutched my sleeve reflexively, her knuckles white. Gao Wei and Gao Chen crouched low, eyes wide. Some of Shen Lei's admirers nearly whimpered in terror. Shen Lei himself stared grimly, sweat lining his brow. Outside, the mutated bear trudged past our halted carriage. For a moment, it seemed to turn its head in our direction, sniffing the air. The aura it radiated felt like jagged knives slicing through one's Qi sense.I quickly compared it in my mind to elders like Sun Min or Mo Hong. It was weaker than them, yes—but it was completely unrestrained, raw, and violent. If it decided to charge, we would suffer total annihilation. I suppressed my Qi as far as possible, leaving no hint of my presence.The beast snorted, exhaling a fog of steam from its massive nostrils, then continued lumbering off into the gloom, each step rocking the ground. Not until the last echo of its footfalls vanished did anyone dare breathe properly again. A female disciple clinging to Shen Lei broke down, her voice shaky. "What in the world was that...? Beasts that strong shouldn't roam the outskirts..."Shen Lei nodded, face still bloodless. "I—I don't know," he admitted. Usually, he wore confidence like a badge. Now it bled away, replaced with stark dread. Another disciple near the rear said, in a trembling tone, that maybe we should turn back. Shen Lei squared his jaw, forcing resolve. "We continue," he declared, his voice regaining some authority. "We've come too far to give up now."None of the disciples argued further, though worry etched their faces. Soon the Nightwind Cruiser lurched forward once more, forging deeper into the gloom as though chasing oblivion.▬▬ι═══════ﺤA week passed in tense travel. We paused periodically, keeping watch at night with uneasy group rotations. Fortunately, no further incidents struck. Eventually, the Veil Caves came into view. Rising from the dark terrain were multiple hills of varying sizes, each rumored to host labyrinthine tunnels beneath the surface. Some had visible entrances, others hidden. The true scale extended far below ground, forming a massive honeycomb of twisting paths, caverns, and—presumably—countless undiscovered secrets.I disembarked from the carriage last, taking a careful look around. The wind carried a hint of stale, cool air from the caverns. Shen Lei stepped down, exhaling relief as he studied the labyrinth's rumored entry. Ren Liqin cast me a quick glance, her earlier cheer somewhat dampened by the unnerving experience mid-journey. The two Gao brothers hopped out, glaring at the expanse with matching scowls.Without preamble, Shen Lei withdrew a rolled parchment from his robes—a map. It was difficult to see from my angle, but I assumed it indicated the tunnels we would need to take. "Follow me," he commanded, taking the lead with an air of certainty. As the five female admirers flocked around him, the rest of us fell into an uneven line behind. The environment was eerily quiet, only the rustle of our clothes breaking the hush.We trekked for ten minutes, navigating winding pathways among the hills. Many of the slopes looked the same, dull brown and pocked with shrubs. Finally, we paused at an unremarkable slope that blended smoothly with the rest of the terrain. Shen Lei rested his fingers on one section of the hillside, releasing a ripple of Qi. In quick succession, he struck several hidden nodes.The earth shuddered beneath us, a low rumble resonating, and an entrance opened where there'd been only solid stone. Some disciples stood unperturbed—perhaps they'd seen this method before—while others gaped in shock at the sudden transformation. I kept to the rear, watching quietly.Shen Lei nodded to everyone. "Let's go." He marched into the newly revealed passage, the aura from his eighth-stage cultivation lighting the way. Each disciple followed in turn, single file. I was last. As I passed through the threshold, a shiver raced down my spine, as though a pair of hidden eyes marked my every step. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw nothing. But the feeling remained, like a shadow at my heel.No one else seems to notice. I noted to myself. Either they're oblivious, or I have imagined things. ...A few minutes after stepping into the narrow corridor of the Veil Caves, tensions reached a breaking point. Gao Chen and Gao Wei, still visibly annoyed, picked up their pace, prompting Ren Liqin and Lin Hai, the lone disciple from the Medicine Department, to try reining them in.Ren Liqin said in a clipped tone that carried her underlying frustration, "We shouldn't hurry blindly. There could be hidden pitfalls at every turn. These caves are notorious for their traps."Gao Chen responded with a dismissive grunt. "Been here enough times to know it like the back of my hand," he said. "No need to tiptoe. Every wasted minute is one more batch of good ore someone else might claim."Lin Hai quietly backed Ren Liqin, shaking his head at the smith's arrogance. "Ren Liqin's right," he said. "We're here to gather essential herbs and resources, not sprint through. A bit of caution could save us all a lot of grief.""That's your problem," Gao Wei put in, crossing his arms with a smug grin. "You're both so bent on picking every rare leaf you see that we'll never make decent progress. We can circle back for the minor stuff, but the high-grade veins don't wait."Ren Liqin stood straighter, her voice tightening. "Minor stuff? So you know exactly what grows where, do you? If we pass a rare shadow-veined root, how will we find it again in this maze?""Don't lecture us," Gao Chen snapped. "You forget we've come here repeatedly—and never needed some flimsy warnings. Besides, why don't you keep your friends under control..." He flicked a pointed glare toward me. "Your new pal looks pretty idle for an Alchemist."I stood off to one side, offering no comment. My presence clearly bothered them for reasons beyond logic. They grumbled in low tones, occasionally shooting me disdainful glances.Ren Liqin, exasperated, appealed to the one with actual authority. "Senior Brother Shen Lei," she said, turning her gaze onto the leader, "could you weigh in? It's dangerous to rush."Shen Lei, who was busy bantering with the five female disciples around him, half-listened before offering a flippant response. "We're not novices who can't handle ourselves," he said. "If the Gao brothers are confident, let's speed up a bit. We can afford to look for herbs on the way."Ren Liqin's knuckles tightened, but she forced herself to remain polite. "Understood," she managed, voice resigned.Gao Chen and Gao Wei exchanged smug looks, evidently pleased they had Shen Lei's support. They led the group deeper into the winding passages at a brisk pace, ignoring Lin Hai's murmured warnings. I, along with the other Alchemist and the two medicine disciples, followed in silence. Shen Lei's entourage stayed at the center, giggling among themselves whenever Shen Lei tossed them a charming quip.Eventually, the path opened into a huge cavern brightened by faintly luminescent crystals high overhead. Gao Chen and Gao Wei stopped dead in their tracks, their eyes lighting up at the sight of mineral deposits. Without further ado, they hurried forward to inspect likely ore veins.Lin Hai spotted a cluster of strange mushrooms near a dark corner and went to investigate. Ren Liqin called after him to be mindful, moving to join him. Meanwhile, Shen Lei—still entertaining his little crowd—lingered by the cavern's entrance. As for me, I hovered at the edges, scanning the walls and floor. Something felt wrong, though I couldn't pinpoint what and why.Ren Liqin sounded slightly breathless when she spoke again, returning briefly to my side. "There's plenty of precious fungus and lichen," she said. "Not sure if they're all suitable for our needs, but it's promising. We just can't let the others barge in recklessly.""I doubt they'll listen," I said quietly, eyeing Gao Chen and Gao Wei swinging pickaxes with hearty laughter. Shen Lei was far too distracted to maintain discipline.Ren Liqin let out a short sigh, nodding her agreement. "They're so eager to hoard everything. And the mood since we left the sect feels... tense, doesn't it?"While I half-listened to her, my attention strayed to the shadows stretching across the cavern floor. I felt that intangible sense of being watched. "Yes," I said. "Tense in more ways than one."Ren Liqin gave me a questioning look, but I didn't elaborate. In the distance, Gao Chen raised a triumphant cheer at the metallic clang that suggested he'd struck a promising vein. Nearby, Gao Wei joined the clamor, jeering about how "this haul will make the trip worthwhile."Shen Lei half-turned, gave them a lazy thumbs-up, then resumed laughing with his admirers. The tension remained, thick beneath the outward bustle. I reminded myself to stay alert.▬▬ι═══════ﺤIn a separate corridor of the sprawling Veil Caves, not far from where Ayanokoji's group had set up its expedition, another party advanced with far more discipline and unity. Their numbers matched Ayanokoji's band in size, but their strength seemed leagues beyond. At the head of this formidable group walked a man in his early thirties, his black robes embroidered with bloody red sigils. A cold and strong aura radiated from him, he was beyond the Qi Condensation Realm—a Foundation Establishment cultivator.Disciples trailed behind him in well-ordered rows. One look at their faces betrayed iron resolve, and the fluctuations of Qi around them suggested multiple cultivators at or above the seventh stage of Qi Condensation. Indeed, near the front stood a disciple exuding eighth-stage power, capable of crushing most Qi Condensation fighters. Yet, even he inclined his head respectfully toward the leader.The Foundation Establishment cultivator halted in the middle of the dim, rock-strewn passage, turning to address his subordinates with a cold precision. He gripped a slender saber at his waist, the blade faintly shimmering with dark runic marks.A tall, stern-faced disciple took a step forward—Luo Ming, at the eighth stage—and bowed respectfully. "Elder," he said, voice echoing lightly off the cavern walls, "we have located the group of Nightshade Monastery disciples in an adjoining tunnel." A slight smirk tugged at his lips. "We are ready to eliminate them at your command."A flicker of satisfaction crossed the elder's face—Elder Wang, as some quietly addressed him. He let out a low hum of approval. "Excellent, Luo Ming," he murmured. "This is the moment for the Bloodmoon Dynasty to break free from the Nightshade Monastery's control." His gaze hardened, sweeping over the rest of his disciples. "No errors allowed. If we fail, we all die—there would be no tolerance from their side. Understand?"The disciples nodded in unison, and in that synchronized motion lay the difference between their troop and Ayanokoji's disjointed faction. The men and women behind Elder Wang had trained for months—if not years—to coordinate their efforts precisely. Here was a well-drilled squad. One might even wonder who truly was the ruling sect here.Elder Wang's eyes narrowed, and the gloom of the cave seemed to deepen around him. "We claim the inheritance hidden within these tunnels," he said, voice edged with fierce determination. "No survivors from the Monastery. No witness to our operation. You catch any disciple, you kill them."His disciples responded with a low chorus of agreement. Among them, a cluster of stage-seven cultivators exchanged eager glances, anticipating glory and reward. Meanwhile, Luo Ming's Qi flared in a silent, savage vow.Elder Wang lifted a hand in a decisive gesture. "Then... let's go," he ordered softly, the words carrying the weight of an avalanche. "Attack."With that single command, the unit moved like clockwork. Each disciple drew weapons suited to their style or prepared to use their Divine Abilities. Quiet as phantoms, they set forth, deeper into the Veil Caves, intent on collision with the unsuspecting Monastery disciples... and the possibility of rewriting the power balance in the Nocturnis Vale forever.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
As I stood while observing the different herbs and ingredients, a thunderous detonation shook the cavern, forcing all thoughts from my mind. Before anyone else even registered the impact, I felt the surge of Qi and reflexively activated Shadow Slip, letting my body blur into the flickering darkness that lined the cave walls. A black haze enveloped me as I flitted across the uneven floor to a shadowed corner. In that same breath, I glimpsed a massive barrier spiraling up around the cave's perimeter—like a shimmering dome that sealed off every potential exit.The entire sequence couldn't have lasted more than two seconds, but to me, it felt drawn out, each moment etched in stark detail.My eyes snapped back to where the explosion originated. The ceiling had splintered apart in a jagged hole, just wide enough for a pair of people to descend. Rock debris tumbled down, and before I could blink, a figure dropped soundlessly through that gap, a flicker of motion so fast it felt surreal. The intruder hurtled straight for Shen Lei and the cluster of female disciples around him, all of whom remained stunned from the sudden blast.One of the women opened her mouth, voice quavering in a half-formed scream."Shen Lei, hel—"Her plea died before the final word. A black ripple sliced past her with a hideous swish, like the air itself had been violently torn. In the next breath, that ripple crashed against the stony wall behind her, carving a deep, diagonal gash into the rock. At first, she seemed unhurt—just frozen mid-scream—until her body suddenly split down the center. A fountain of blood erupted from the wound as her torso peeled apart. Her shriek melted into a wet gargle as the two halves of her form slid away from each other. Muscle fibers snapped, sending ropes of intestine tumbling out of her stomach cavity in loops of crimson. Brain matter spattered the ground, flung free from her skull's violent cleavage. What remained of her legs twitched reflexively as her severed upper half thudded to the ground. The entire scene painted the nearby rocks with thick, spurting gore.A second woman tried to stagger back, eyes wide in uncomprehending terror. But another ripple flashed—a condensed Qi strike lancing across the short distance. It punched through her abdomen like a cannonball, blasting a hole the size of a soccer ball clean through. She couldn't even scream, only gasped silently as her guts slid out from the gaping wound. Sections of intestine dangled, blood dribbling in heavy streams. Her heart might've been ruptured or flung aside—I saw dark lumps dropping onto the cave floor. She collapsed limply onto her knees, then pitched forward, a vacant expression on her face even in death.Two bodies lay shredded in less time than it took to draw a breath. Blood pooled like a slick, reflective lake beneath them, still warm and steaming in the cold cave air. The rest recoiled, many stumbling backward, raw panic contorting their faces. The iron stench of spilled entrails overwhelmed every other smell.They weren't weak—not by any means. Both women who'd just been slaughtered in an instant had attained the sixth stage of Qi Condensation, considered inner sect elites under normal circumstances. Yet the enemy's sheer lethality outstripped their considerable cultivation, proving that raw power alone wasn't enough to survive a blitzkrieg from these assailants.Shen Lei, who had stumbled away in shock, finally snapped his gaze upward, eyes flaring with alarm. He seemed paralyzed for only a fraction of a second before raw fury lit his features. Meanwhile, a hush of horror reverberated among the survivors—several trying to quell their choking revulsion, or stepping gingerly around the spreading slick of gore.I retrieved a talisman every disciple receives when they leave the sect for a mission. This was an emergency talisman—each unique, bound to its owner, with a counterpart within the sect. If activated, it would alert the sect, transmitting both location and distress. Without hesitation, I channeled my Qi into it, attempting activation. Nothing happened. Just as I had anticipated, the barrier didn't merely restrict movement—it also suppressed transmissions. The enemy had planned meticulously, ensuring no outside help could intervene.I stayed hunched behind a jagged rock formation, eyes trained on the carnage. The two arrivals—one matching Shen Lei's aura level, the other a notch lower—now hovered near the spot of the initial strike. From the hole overhead, ten more cultivators poured in, each exuding a potent killing intent. I heard their leader's roar echo through the cavern walls:"Kill them all, leave no survivor!"An unmistakable shift rippled through the cave. Fear pulsed in the eyes of Gao Chen and Gao Wei, their earlier arrogance dissolved to wide-eyed dread. One of them let out a desperate scream. "What are you doing?! Do you even know who you're attacking?! We're from the Nightshade Monastery! The sect will kill you all if you—"Laughter cut him off—two sneering figures rushed forward, weapons glinting under the pale crystals overhead. "That only means we'll have to butcher every last one of you!" one rasped, face twisted in maniacal glee. "No one to report back, no repercussions!" Another cackled in unison, launching the first savage attack on the brothers.At the same moment, the two quiet, seventh-stage cultivators on our side broke their silence, lunging to intercept the onslaught. They clashed with a pair of rank-seven enemies, Qi blasting in powerful waves that cracked the cavern floor. Shen Lei, teeth gritted, went straight for the leading attacker, clearly the one who'd initiated the ambush. Soon, the entire chamber descended into chaos: roars of fury and shrieks of terror mingled as swords and Qi blasts crisscrossed in lethal arcs.We were outnumbered. They had thirteen able fighters, while our side had effectively ten—the two women were already butchered, and I retreated. I felt no guilt over the idea of fleeing. They were obviously doomed; I had no desire to throw my life away for misplaced valor.Still hidden in the shadows, I watched Gao Chen and Gao Wei battle three enemies at once—a pair of men and a woman, all with grins of bloodlust. The smithing brothers had snatched up their heavy pickaxes, once used for mining ore. Now they wielded them like desperate weapons, arcs of Qi crackling along the iron heads. For a moment, the pair held their own, blocking or deflecting savage swings. But the enemy flank closed in from the sides, corralling them toward a wall.Under pressure, Gao Wei tried a wide overhead strike. Gao Chen, reeling from a blow, stumbled sideways, inadvertently stepping right into the path of that pickaxe. It crunched into his skull with a sickening squelch, metal head plunging clear through from crown to jaw. The impact was so brutal that the top half of Gao Chen's face peeled apart, sending shards of bone and chunks of brain tissue splattering across the rocky ground. His eyes bulged for a fraction of a second—shock and mortal agony twisting his features—before the life vanished from them. He slumped forward onto Gao Wei's weapon, pinned grotesquely like a ragdoll.Gao Wei gaped in wide-eyed horror at the carnage he'd just caused, trembling. Hate, guilt, and despair all flashed across his face in an instant. A fleeting thought flickered in my mind: What a fascinating range of emotions. Could I replicate that expression if I tried?Even as I wondered, an enemy warrior seized the moment. With a savage roar, he swung a large hammer overhead, bringing it down on Gao Wei's skull. The resulting impact burst the man's head like an overripe fruit, releasing a shower of blood and brain pulp that coated the cavern floor. Both sworn brothers collapsed in unison, their limbs tangled in a single pool of gore—their bodies still interlocked by the fatal blow. In life, they'd been brothers. In death, they were fused together by spilled blood and shredded flesh.Nearby, a woman's shriek rang out—one of Shen Lei's devotees. She and the remaining female disciples had joined in a frantic stand, tears streaking their cheeks at the memory of the two murdered earlier. Despite their rivalry, they were still friends. Their unity couldn't save them from the sudden brutality unfolding around them, though.A second wave of attackers struck, aiming savage Qi blasts at the trio. The slender woman from our side tried to block with a swirling shield of Qi, but a lance of black energy slammed into her chest, causing her entire torso to rupture in a spray of blood. The rest of her body convulsed in midair, limbs splaying violently as pieces of bone and globs of internal organs scattered onto the cave floor."Nooo... Sister Qiuyue!" one of the other women wailed, choking on her sobs. Distracted by grief, she never registered the silver blade whirling her way. It thunked into her forehead with sickening precision, the steel slicing through the bone as if it were soft clay. She made a guttural croak, eyes rolled back, then flopped onto the cavern ground, the sword still embedded in her skull, fresh blood trickling in rivulets.The two bodies joined the ground sprawl of limbs, saturating the air with the stench of iron and death. All around, the clash of Qi reverberated, savage roars mixing with final cries. Standing discreetly within the shadows, I observed the carnage with a cool detachment. They never had a chance... The thought flickered by. My decision to remain hidden, to avoid direct confrontation, confirmed itself. There was nothing to be gained by dying among them.Yes, it was a horrifying sight. Gore splattered walls, intestines slid underfoot, and screams of agony ricocheted through the stony halls. Yet I felt no empathy or remorse, merely a slight curiosity at how swiftly all illusions of control vanished when true power arrived. Keeping my breath steady, I kept my posture still—waiting for a window to slip away from the slaughter.This was no battle—it had never been a battle from the start. It was a massacre, plain and simple. The enemy used their advantage—surprise and disciplined unity—to shatter our lines almost immediately. While our group stumbled with fragmented responses and terrified screams, they executed pinpoint strikes in synchronized pairs, each pair covering the other's blind spots. Attacks rained down in lethal arcs, every blade slash or Qi blast honing in on a vulnerable disciple.Across the cavern, bodies littered the ground in horrid poses, limbs severed, blood pooling in widening slicks. Frantic echoes of dying cries still reverberated off the stone walls. In one corner, the last female fighter from Shen Lei's entourage battled three attackers at once, her Qi flickering under the relentless pressure. Her features twisted with hate, with grief—and then with a resigned acceptance. At the apex of that moment, one of the enemy cultivators lunged in a savage, decapitating slash. Her head tore free, spinning into the air in a ghastly arc, blood spraying in a wide circle. It landed not far from Shen Lei's feet, face still contorted in rage before all life extinguished. A shudder passed through him as he recognized the calculated cruelty of that move—sending her head his way was more psychological torment than final strike.Further down the cave, the two seventh-stage Monastery cultivators clung stubbornly to life, unleashing powerful Qi blasts that forced back their enemies. Five from the other side circled around them, battered and bloodstained but still full of fight. Each passing second drained the Qi reserves of the two defenders. Their faces paled with every surge, chests heaving as they flung desperate counterattacks. They wouldn't last long.I let my gaze travel to the far side of the cavern, where Ren Liqin, Lin Hai, and that haggard Alchemist from my department struggled to fend off a trio of enemies. Lin Hai—only in the fifth stage—had already been at a disadvantage, trying to shield Ren Liqin, who was similarly outmatched. The Alchemist, though sixth stage, lacked the practiced combat skill to match these maniacs.I heard Lin Hai's frantic shout between blasts of Qi, "Where is Ayanokoji Kiyotaka?!" In the swirl of chaos, the Alchemist answered with a shaking voice, "Probably dead—" but no one had time to confirm. A parted moment was all it took for one stray enemy slash to cleave into Lin Hai's leg, severing it completely from his body at the thigh with a wet chop. He howled in agony, falling onto his back as blood gushed, rapidly staining the already slick floor.The haggard Alchemist reacted instinctively, head whipping around to see if he could help. That instant of distraction proved fatal: a dark-clad cultivator darted in, hand shaped like a spear of Qi, plunging it through the Alchemist's chest with grisly precision. The man arched, mouth falling open, a fountain of blood spraying from his lips. He let out a choked scream as the intruder's fingers tore deeper into flesh and bone, collapsing in a heap moments after.Lin Hai still lay on the ground, shrieking, scrabbling uselessly with his remaining limb. The same opponent, eyes blazing with cold bloodlust, launched a ranged Qi attack—a streak of black that sliced across Lin Hai's throat. It opened his neck in a ragged gash, blood spurting in pulsating arcs. His eyes rolled back, and he gargled helplessly, arms twitching. In a matter of heartbeats, he lay still, soaked in his own gore.Ren Liqin, cornered by another enemy cultivator, let out a cry of despair as she realized help wasn't coming. "I don't want to die!" she screamed, words trailing into a bitter sob. But her assailant answered only with a swift cut, carving into her torso. She choked, eyes wide, before sliding to the cavern floor. Her final breath escaped in a pitiful wheeze, and her body slumped into the pool of viscera that had formed around the others.Now only three from our side remained: Shen Lei—still engaged in a brutal clash with the enemy leader—and the two seventh-stage cultivators, whose Qi flared weakly as they struggled on. Around them, the floor was carpeted with corpse after corpse, friend and foe drenched in equal measure of gore. Yet tellingly, no one from the enemy side had actually been killed, though many nursed serious injuries. If this slaughter persisted, they would eventually crush the final three.From my vantage point within a dark recess, I noted it all dispassionately—no stirrings of guilt or heroism to break me from my hiding spot. I had no desire to die, and interfering now meant suicide. Honor was meaningless in the face of this force. Looking across the torn, blood-soaked cavern, I silently concluded that escape—if possible—would be my single priority.While the dying screams and last-ditch battles echoed off the cavern walls, I tried focusing on the barrier that enclosed us. I'd noticed it soon after the initial ambush—an elaborate formation spanning from wall to ceiling, sealing every escape route. The faint glow along its edges marked the runic lines. Though I was by no means a formation expert, the Abyssal Archive had granted me fragments of knowledge on formations and their structural underpinnings that covered the basics.It was strong; that much was obvious. But it was also simple enough in design for me to infer its basic principle: each hostile cultivator's Qi fed into the array, maintaining this sealed dome. If I wanted out, I had three theoretically possible routes.The first was to defuse the formation with advanced skill—a laughable idea, given my limited expertise in that field. Then there was the option to wait for the enemies to deactivate or remove their barrier. That was unlikely since their entire plan hinged on eliminating witnesses, and I didn't want luck to decide my fate.And then, there was the last option: kill every single one of them, severing their Qi from the formation.Thirteen enemies at least, all above me in rank, and half of them unscathed. Even the ones who had burned Qi reserves were more than a match for me. It was reminiscent of a lone child against a dozen trained soldiers. A hopeless scenario, yes... but I couldn't accept waiting to be slaughtered.While my thoughts raced, the battle reached its conclusion. The two seventh-stage cultivators from our side, battered and gasping, made a final stand. I sensed their Qi spike in a desperate surge, but the blasts they unleashed failed to kill the enemies. Moments later, the enemies realized the pair was spent and converged, laughing at the pathetic final struggle.Realizing they couldn't endure, those cultivators exchanged a glance. One rasped, "Brother Tseng... let's end it here." The other, eyes hollow with resignation, nodded. "Alright, Brother Bo. We'll take them with us."They gathered what remained of their Qi into their dantians, expressions contorting in final acceptance. A few attackers registered the impending suicidal burst—someone shouted, "Watch out, they're self-destructing!"—but reaction time was too short.A massive explosion rocked the cavern, drowning out screams and clashing steel in a single, deafening roar. The two cultivators' bodies erupted in white-hot Qi, swallowing a cluster of three enemies in the fiery maelstrom. When the dust settled, all five lay obliterated, no more than blood-misted chunks spattering the cave walls.From somewhere in the haze, the enemy leader snarled in raw frustration, "Tch! Couldn't they just accept their death like the other?!" His lip curled back, exposing clenched teeth.Enraged, he whirled toward Shen Lei, who now stood as the last survivor among us, battered but upright. Shen Lei hissed between his teeth, glimpsing the carnage around him—everyone else lay lifeless, viscera strewn across the cave floor in nightmarish heaps. The leader lunged, and Shen Lei met him blow for blow, launching a frenzied barrage. Over the next minutes, the sounds of their duel reverberated.In a mere five minutes, everyone in my squad brutally died except Shen Lei. I noted them as each fell, body after body dropping in pools of their own blood. What had been a routine resource—gathering mission transformed into a gruesome final stand.Shen Lei, hissing in despair, let out an agonized roar. "GODDAMMIT!" He then gave a single, deranged laugh—like a man already past saving—then charged the leader with reckless abandon. He bellowed, ignoring any sense of caution. The surge of Qi from his core disciple techniques allowed him, momentarily, to dominate the duel, hammering the leader with dark-laced strikes. The leader coughed blood and staggered back, narrowly defending himself, face pale. But the respite was brief.Seeing their commander wounded, everyone rushed in, albeit disorganized after the suicidal explosion. Still, sheer numbers told the tale. Shen Lei, wounded and alone, took blow after blow. He refused to guard, opting instead to fire one last lethal strike—a technique I didn't recognize. The swirling Qi smashed into the leader, ripping open his chest in a spray of red. He staggered, pressing one hand to his gushing wound, white with shock. But he didn't die, retreating to the edge of the cave, calling over his shoulder, "Finish him! I need to heal—"He approached the barrier, which parted at his touch, letting him slip away. That brief exchange confirmed that only their Qi could manipulate the formation.Shen Lei was left encircled. Though battered, he still stood, eyes ablaze with defiance. Admirable. No arrogance or harem of admirers remained—just a solitary fighter refusing to kneel. But the enemies pressed him from every angle. He swung his fists in wild arcs, parrying or dodging a few strikes, until his Qi flagged. His stance quivered, and one knee hit the ground.All at once, the foe withdrew a few meters, likely dreading another suicidal detonation.Shen Lei mocked them with a hollow laugh, blood dripping from his lips as he lifted his head just enough to glare at his enemies. His voice was hoarse but carried an eerie finality."Heh... you dogs needed an army... to take down one man..." He coughed violently, fresh crimson staining the ground beneath him. "Pathetic."His body trembled, his last breath escaping in a wet gasp, and then—he collapsed, face-first into the spreading pool of his own blood.A collective sigh of relief escaped the nine remaining cultivators once Shen Lei's lifeless form toppled to the blood-slick cave floor. They exchanged grim nods, stepping gingerly over the torn remains of their own fallen and the Monastery corpses scattered in grisly heaps.One of them, a lean man with a faint scar running down his cheek, muttered, "That was all of them, right?"Another, short and stocky, responded, "Yes, I don't sense anyone else. We've killed everyone."A third asked, "Then what now?"A fourth shrugged, glancing around at the carnage, the severed limbs, mangled torsos, entrails lying in sticky pools. "Elder Wang said he'd come back once he's secured the inheritance. We'll guard this cave in the meantime."Elder Wang? Inheritance? I noted mentally, still crouched in a shadowy recess. An 'Elder'—likely stronger than the eighth-stage cultivator who led the assault. The mention of the inheritance might explain why they attacked us, though that wasn't probably the entire story.One of them raised his voice, issuing orders. "Then let's focus on healing for now. But first, search the cave carefully. If you find something, call the rest."They scattered to different corners, rummaging through the debris of the collapsed ceiling and the random pockets of the cavern. In their minds, no Monastery survivors remained. A fatal assumption.My chance.I sized up their positions, letting my eyes skim the gruesome scene—blood-splattered stone, lumps of flesh, Shen Lei's half-slashed remains lying in a pool of thick red. My chest felt tight, not with fear but with cold calculation. Nine foes, scattered. I repressed my Qi fully, slipping out from behind the rocks.One cultivator—tall, bearded—flopped down to rest, his back turned to me. He rubbed his temples, either from exhaustion or the stress of the battle. Carefully, I crept toward him, each step silent on the wet rock. It reeked of iron and decay, but I paid it no heed. Within two seconds, I stood directly behind him.Without hesitation, I infused Qi into my fingertips, targeting the exact location of his heart. My hand pierced through his back in a swift plunge, skin and muscle parting with a wet squelch. His eyes went wide; a choked gurgle left his lips. I clamped my other palm over his mouth, muffling his death rattle. He convulsed, warm blood spurting around my embedded hand, drenching my wrist. Before his body could collapse, I dragged him behind the nearby rocks, leaving a scarlet smear on the ground. The entire kill took no longer than two heartbeats.One down—eight to go. The cold clarity I'd trained myself to maintain never wavered. This was already the third life I'd taken personally. Yet, like before, I felt nothing inside me.Drawing my Tang Dao, I moved to the next step. I pitched my voice, imitating the victim's husky tone as best I could. "Yu Lim!" I called. "I found something... come quick."My attempt at mimicry wasn't flawless—my tone remained oddly neutral, missing the emotional lilt. But in this environment, with everyone exhausted and complacent, it proved sufficient. Footsteps echoed as someone approached, weaving between corpses."Wei Huan? Where did you go?" he called, rounding a corner formed by the debris. "I'm here—what's—"He never finished the question. I appeared from the side, Tang Dao raised. In a single fluid thrust, I drove the blade into his chest, angled for the heart. His eyes bulged, his mouth open in silent shock. Bright arterial blood spilled over the weapon's edge, drenching my hand. He attempted to gasp for air, but only managed a strangled croak before his body slumped. In a smooth motion, I dumped him beside his friend, hidden from easy view by the rock piles.A faint tension coiled in my gut—time was short. The others would notice any delay. I had to keep moving. Another adversary, a short woman sporting a fresh cut on her shoulder, was rummaging near a cluster of fallen stalactites a few paces away. I saw her stiffen out of the corner of my eye; she must've sensed something. Her head jerked in my direction, but it was already too late.Gloomfang Edge flared along my Tang Dao's steel, dark Qi corroding the air around it. She barely had time to widen her eyes before I swept the blade in a diagonal arc. I felt a brief resistance, then the sword sheared through her from left shoulder to opposite hip. Her body split with a hideous rip, flesh, ribs, and organs flung aside in a spray of gore. She let out a strangled shriek—an attempt at one, at least—blood gushing from the catastrophic wound. Her upper half slid one way, exposed intestines and glistening organs tumbling free, while her lower half collapsed where she stood. One final twitch, then silence.That made three kills. My heart remained steady. I stared down, letting the blood-sodden remains confirm her end. Far across the chamber, scattered shapes of enemy cultivators still moved, occupied with bandaging wounds or investigating the cavern walls. Some were near each other, which increased the risk that an alarm would be raised. But I had no choice but to push on.Three were gone—six remained inside. I hissed out a breath, refusing to let my guard down. A single miscalculation and I'd be the one who ends up dead.I edged carefully along the cavern wall, my senses alert for any sudden movements. Around the curve, a woman in her early twenties with flowing black hair crouched near a cluster of shattered stalagmites, tending to her bruised arm. Through her Qi signature, I gauged she was seventh stage—stronger than the three I'd picked off already.Ten meters from her, I dared not creep any closer; she might sense me if I did. Instead, I steeled myself, Tang Dao in hand, flooding my legs with Qi. In an instant, I launched forward. A fierce surge flared around me—like a beacon announcing my presence, no doubt dragging every remaining cultivator's attention my way. But I couldn't help it. Speed was paramount.The cavern floor blurred beneath my feet. The woman's head snapped up in alarm, but I'd already vanished from her line of sight. Appearing directly behind, I poured the Qi I'd gathered into the blade, striking in a long downward slash. She barely twisted half a step, maybe sensing the killing intent at the last breath. Not enough.The blade ripped straight down her front, from her forehead down to her lower torso. A fleshy rending sound tore through the air as her body divided along that line, skin, and bone splitting in a gush of bright red. In that instant, her eyes were wide, her mouth opening in a silent gasp. Yet, her form collapsed in two halves, organs slopping outward. Blood spurted across my arms, spattering the rock floor with a wet slap. No scream left her lips. She hit the ground, a grotesque sculpture of entrails and severed flesh.Cries erupted from across the cavern, who witnessed the entire scene unfold."What the hell—?!""Where did he come from?!""Aren't they all supposed to be dead?!""NOOOOO! Qiao Yaling—no! You fucking bastard, ...I'LL KILL YOU!"Several turned, weapons raised or Qi gathering in their palms, rage and panic contorting their features. I refused to give them time to organize. My body ached from the sudden bursts of speed, but I pushed onward. In a single heartbeat, I pivoted toward a weaker disciple—sixth stage—thinking to grab another quick kill. However, a seventh-stage assailant darted to intercept from my left, the one who was the most emotional after I killed the woman called Qiao Yaling. Qi crackling was around his hands.I bellowed, "Gloomfang Edge!" Our weapons clashed—he'd raised a hasty defense since he'd intended to attack, not block. My Tang Dao, coated in swirling gloom-laced Qi, bashed past his half-formed guard, leaving a deep cleft across his shoulder and upper arm. A roar of pain escaped his throat, and he staggered.I didn't linger. The rest were converging fast, so I seized the distraction and activated Shimmerstep—my body flickered into multiple silhouettes. The assailants tensed, anticipating another attack.Again I cried out, "Gloomfang Edge!" feinting that I'd repeat the same finishing slash. The Qi whirled in an arc—but I broke off mid-step, vanished from their direct line of sight, and infused my fist with Shadow Infusion.Suddenly, I appeared right beside the same cultivator I initially wanted to attack. Eyes wide, he tried to swing his blade, but I slammed my fist into his temple—a blow laced with dark Qi. Cartilage and bone crunched audibly, a wet, sickening snap. He was propelled backward through the air, contorted in agony. Fierce fury flared in his gaze, but he hadn't even finished drawing a breath when his skull collided with the cave wall. The impact was devastating: a dull, brain-splitting crack as the bones of his cranium fractured on the rocky surface. He collapsed, head half-caved in, blood and shards of bone spurting from the ruin. All tension in his body vanished, and he dropped heavily to the ground—yet another lifeless heap among the many.Panting, my body was drenched with blood, I scanned the area. Their numbers were dropping, though some still circled, confusion and rage fueling them. The stench of fresh blood hung thick, and the cave floor had become a red-smeared battleground. Their leader was gone outside to heal, but at least four enemies remained inside, all apparently fixated on silencing the unexpected reaper in their midst—me.I took a short step forward, testing my footing on the slick rock. All four of the remaining enemies tensed at once, as though every muscle in their bodies had gone rigid. One of them—the seventh—stage man who'd tried to intercept me earlier—looked near-crazed with grief and fury, presumably enraged by the death of the long-haired woman I'd just cleaved vertically. Another, also seventh stage, stood further back, warily keeping me in his line of sight. The two sixth-stage cultivators hovered at the edges, exchanging anxious glances; they knew I was outnumbered, yet they seemed rattled by my calm."Damn you," muttered the man in front, voice shaking. I could sense that he was inches from tearing me limb from limb, presumably because that female victim had meant something to him—a lover or cherished comrade. I couldn't care less about that revelation.I'd already killed five, but those successes hinged heavily on shock tactics and stealth. Now those remaining four cultivators faced me, prepared to some degree, their eyes flaring with hatred.I let the Tang Dao hang loosely at my side. Blood from my earlier kills still dripped off the blade, spattering onto the rock in a slow patter. Their gazes darted between me and the blood pooling at my feet. The thick, metallic stench was suffocating."He's just a brat," hissed one of the sixth-stage cultivators. "A single kid—he can't—he can't possibly beat us." Yet his voice trembled more than it should, betraying his fear."And only fourth stage!" barked the other sixth-stage cultivator, but that boldness rang hollow.My gaze flickered over them, my killing intent rising. Maybe they believed they could psyche themselves up. I decided to unnerve them further. Quietly, I popped a Qi Replenishing Pill from my pocket, swallowing it in one smooth motion.One of them, a short, broad-shouldered man, tightened his grip on his spear. "Oi, what's your name, kid?!"I slid the pill container back into my robe and gave them a deadened look. "I don't see why I should waste my name on corpses."It wasn't bravado, merely a final attempt to shatter their nerves—and it worked. They bristled with indignation, confusion flickering in their eyes. The tension ratcheted up a notch. Then, in a sudden move, I raised my hand and unleashed a weak flicker of Qi, a ranged projectile that whooshed across the open space.A female cultivator in sixth stage gasped, dodging at the last second. The slash of Qi zipped by, leaving only a faint scorch on the rock. She planted her feet and sneered. "Missed me! You worthless—" Her words choked off as I calmly spoke:"Look above you."She scoffed. "I'm not that stupid, you—" But a frantic voice from behind her suddenly shrieked her name: "Xiao Lifen, watch out up there!"She froze, blinking upward too late. I'd noticed a loose boulder overhead—the area had partially crumbled from the earlier blasts. My mild Qi attack had dislodged it. Now that massive chunk of rock came plummeting down. It slammed onto the unsuspecting woman with a horrific crunch, flattening her body in an instant. Bones cracked audibly beneath the enormous weight, and the impact was so intense that her torso burst, launching shreds of flesh and gouts of blood outward. The giant stone pinned what remained of her figure to the ground, and all that was visible was a messy splatter of crimson leaking from beneath.I gave a faint sigh. "I warned you," I said, my voice bored. "And you insisted on ignoring it. Such a pity."Across the cave, one of the seventh-stage cultivators let out a guttural roar. "You demon—!" He sprinted at me with everything he had, eyes wild, brandishing a jagged saber. I sidestepped easily, his blade narrowly missing my side. He spun, trying a backswing.I slid my Tang Dao to block, our swords grating in a shower of sparks. "Why the screaming?" I said in an even tone, forcing his weapon off track. "If you wanted to save her, you should've told her to move aside, not just to look up. Isn't it your fault she died?"He let out a choked snarl, his posture faltering in rage. "Shut your filthy mouth!" he screamed, hacking in a flurry of desperate strikes. The last two cultivators, also incensed, closed in on me as well, forming a small ring. Sharp steel glinted in the shifting gloom. My respite was gone; they had me partially cornered.One of them lunged, forcing me to dodge sideways. Another's overhead slash whistled toward my left shoulder, and I twisted to intercept it with Dark Veil—my Qi compressing into a tight barrier around that single point. The strike connected with a dull thud, partially absorbed by the concentrated shadow shield. A jolt of pain flared, but not enough to break me.He reeled back, cursing. "How are you still standing, you damn freak? A mere fourth stage can't do this!" Flicking a quick glance at the others, he barked, "Don't hold back—kill him here and now! If we let a monster like this continue in that blasted Monastery, our sect is finished!"I stepped back a pace, readying myself for another exchange, faint blood still dripping from the tip. My heart rate remained steady, my mind calm in the face of their alarm. They had reason to fear me, even if I was severely outmatched. And in that fear, I saw my advantage.I melted into the shadows again, Shadow Slip rendering me a faint blur in the cavern's dark corners. Some of them lashed out at half-seen movement, only to connect with empty air—my body already sliding into another patch of gloom. While they were left guessing, I quickly let Phantom Whispers trickle out. A series of footsteps echoed all around them, circling in the murk.Startled by the phantom sounds, the remaining three cultivators bunched closer, forming a tight triangle with weapons raised. In my half-hidden vantage, I impersonated the seventh-stage man whose voice had been trembling with rage seconds before. I pitched my tone to mimic his frenzied guilt:"No, run away!" I shouted, letting my words bounce off the walls.That man's face twisted in confusion—he recognized his voice but didn't utter it, so he tried to warn his allies that it was a trick. He barely managed to open his mouth when I used Nightcaller's Grasp, sending a twisting tendril of shadow Qi slithering around his jaw. The tendril forced itself between his lips, gagging his attempt to speak. He struggled, but the ephemeral binding couldn't last long. Still, the delay served its purpose. The other two cultivators in the group heard the false cry and sprinted in the opposite direction, leaving him momentarily isolated.By the time he tore the tendril free, I'd already infused my legs with Qi and hurled myself forward in a burst of speed. Stepping out of the shadows near the sixth-stage cultivator, I appeared behind him so abruptly that he only registered my presence the instant my breath stirred the hairs on the back of his neck.His eyes widened; I could see terror warping his expression. "Y—!" He tried to sound an alarm, but I had no intention of letting him. With Silent Fang, I channeled a razor-thin thread of shadow Qi into his meridians, disrupting his ability to control Qi. He stiffened, unable to form a barrier or channel his power. In a smooth arc, I slashed. His eyes squeezed shut in denial as he tried to intercept with his bare hands, but the Tang Dao parted both arms in a spray of crimson, slicing them off near the wrists. He howled in agony, only to have his cry silenced mid-scream when the blade continued through his neck. His head tumbled away, accompanied by a grotesque fountain of blood spraying from the severed veins. The rest of his body dropped like a limp rag, joining a pool of gore already formed from earlier kills.Sudden, furious shouts erupted:"You monster!""Demon—devil—using such cheap tricks!"Hatred burned in their eyes, but I simply vanished again, slipping behind a huge boulder to gulp down Qi Replenishing Pills. My reserves were nearing rock bottom, each advanced technique pushing me deeper into exhaustion. The pills gave a minimal boost, though I lacked time to fully absorb them.I reappeared, stepping into the center of the blood-soaked cavern. The final two seventh-stage cultivators spotted me at once, bounding over with murder in their faces. Their leader snarled, "You'll regret all this! I swear you'll-"I gave a half-shrug. "Didn't you say that line already—back when you had five left?""YOU—!" Rage twisted his features. They came at me simultaneously, one lunging from the front while the other dashed from the back. I dodged what I could, Dark Veil smothering any strike too close to avoid. Even so, a few blows grazed me, leaving injuries that stung and added more dark stains to my robe.When I sensed a chance, I employed Silent Fang once more, jamming a spike of Qi into the enraged cultivator's meridians, temporarily messing with his flow. He stumbled, fury flickering across his eyes, but the other cultivator pressed on, lashing out with Qi-laced blades. This was no longer a stable formation but a frantic brawl, each man consumed by hatred.They advanced in unison, but I watched for an opening. At last, they overcommitted—thrusting their weapons with no regard for each other's position. I sprang upward at the final moment, a risky overhead jump that soared just high enough. Their blades, aimed at me, found each other instead.A pair of wet impacts rang out as the swords pierced their fellow cultivators' bodies. The clang of steel on bone, the crunch of penetrating flesh—it formed a gruesome chorus. Both men coughed in shock, blood gurgling in their throats, their eyes bulging with disbelief. They had effectively run each other through, skewering one another in a twisted cross. They stumbled, locked together, thick rivulets of blood trickling down from the impalement points. One opened his mouth in a final condemnation, voice already wet with internal bleeding:"How... could... the world... let a demon like you... exist...?"His voice died in a choking sputter, pupils dilating as life abandoned him. The other, pinned at a strange angle, had succumbed moments ago without uttering a word. Their corpses sagged, swords still pinned in each other's torsos, collapsed into a single bloody heap.A heavy silence finally settled, broken only by my labored breathing. No time remained for me to linger in that blood-slick cave, surrounded by severed limbs and sprawled corpses. I had to leave before the leader—wounded but still alive—and the fabled "Elder Wang" returned. My entire body trembled in protest, each wound flaring with pain, yet I forced my legs to move. Panting, I wiped some of the half-congealed gore from my palms, trying to keep my grip on the Tang Dao steady.Across the battlefield, the barrier flickered violently, its structure unraveling now that every cultivator linked to it had been slain. Even through the haze of exhaustion, I could feel the weakening Qi currents. The shimmering dome at the cave's entrance trembled, its dissolution accelerating—until at last, it shattered into nothing.Without hesitation, I retrieved the emergency talisman from my robes—the same one that had failed me before. This time, however, as I channeled my Qi into it, a brilliant blue light flared to life. A faint pulse rippled outward, confirming that the transmission was successful. The sect now knew of the crisis. Help was coming.Just as I neared the far side of the cavern, an icy prickle raced down my spine. An aura locked onto me. A wave of killing intent bore down, making me pick a fighting position yet again.Of course, my luck, I thought, letting out a ragged exhale. They must have felt the barrier dissolve. I had no choice but to fight.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The moment the formation's faint glow died out, Luo Ming, who had been leaning against a rough wall in an adjoining chamber, snapped his eyes open. Pain throbbed in his chest from the critical injury inflicted by Shen Lei. He forced himself upright, ignoring the wave of dizziness, one hand clutching his side where the flesh had been rent deep."What happened?" he muttered under his breath. "Why did the barrier collapse?" He took a few unsteady steps, blood still trickling through the fingers he used to keep pressure on the wound. "Did Elder Wang arrive? No. He'd have passed here if he did."With rising trepidation, Luo Ming limped through the short tunnel that led into the now unsealed cavern. A stench of blood assaulted his nostrils, so intense it nearly made him gag. The first glimpse of the cave's interior made his stomach lurch. Carnage splayed across the stone floor: all of his sect-mates—no, his entire strike force—lay dead in varying positions of grotesque finality. Some had gaping chest wounds; others had heads smashed, skull fragments glistening in thick red pools. A few had been hacked apart so viciously that their torsos lay in two or more pieces. And the two seventh-stage cultivators, once proud warriors, lay twisted together, their own weapons impaling one another's bodies, locked in a grisly scene.Luo Ming's eyes flared with shock. He stepped over a body part and nearly slipped on the coagulating blood. His heart pounded faster. Every corpse told a story of violent ends. He recognized the techniques that had inflicted these injuries—some were simple stabs, but others indicated advanced Qi usage, strong enough to slice bodies clean in half.But what truly seized his attention was the figure standing in the middle of it all. A small silhouette, two heads smaller than him—a mere kid, drenched from head to toe in sticky maroon as though he'd bathed in his victims' blood. The child's posture was calm. The gore on his clothes looked almost symbolic—the remnants of the monstrous acts that had played out here.Instinctively, Luo Ming scanned the child's Qi with spiritual sense. The reading jolted him. Stage four—barely a fledgling on the cultivation path. He refused to believe it, scanning again with more focus. The same result. A fourth-stage Qi Condensation cultivator, standing amid the shredded corpses of at least a dozen powerful fighters, including advanced realms on his own side. No matter how insane it seemed, the proof glistened under flickering crystal lights: a solitary boy with half a cave of slain foes at his feet."What... the fuck is this...?" he mumbled, cold sweat forming at his brow. In the entire Nocturnis Vale or beyond, he'd never heard of such a phenomenon—a young cultivator so low in stage cutting down so many across multiple realms. Even the greatest young geniuses he'd heard of—backed by formidable clans and sects—could never manage this. Comparing them was like the difference between heaven and earth. It felt like staring at something that defied the rules of the world.Fear mingled with anger in Luo Ming's chest. He gazed at the battered child more carefully, noticing the tremors in the boy's stance and the subtle irregularity in his breathing. The kid was obviously exhausted and injured, likely at the limit of his stamina. He was like an arrow at the end of its flight. Yet it was still a child who had ended his entire squad.At that moment, an icy determination flared in Luo Ming's eyes, killing intent rising. He refused to let this monstrous creature live. If such potential were allowed to grow, the Bloodmoon Dynasty—no, the entire region—might face a catastrophe in years to come. "I need to strike now," he whispered to himself, ignoring the pain in his chest. "One mistake, and I'm the next carcass here." He cursed the absence of Elder Wang. If that Elder's presence were here, finishing the job would be trivial.But the child's gaze lifted, locking onto him—emotionless, unblinking eyes that looked straight through his defenses. Luo Ming felt a shiver run the length of his spine, as if he were a lamb facing a lion. No, worse. Not even his own sect leader, a Core Formation cultivator, had ever incited such dread in him."This can't be real..." Luo Ming thought. "He's just a fourth-stage Qi Condensation brat! A confrontation with some at this stage is normally like a beast devouring a newborn calf... yet why do I feel like the calf?!"He gritted his teeth, forcing Qi into his limbs. The child remained silent, a Tang Dao dripping thick, half-clotted blood from its edge. Every nerve in Luo Ming's body screamed for him to kill this demonic boy now—or be killed himself.The moment Luo Ming shifted to start his assault, the kid actually struck first, flickering into motion with a swift dash. In a heartbeat, he crossed the distance, Tang Dao slashing directly at Luo Ming's neck. Eyes widening, Luo Ming deflected the blade with a forward sweep of his arm; dark Qi engulfed his hand, colliding with the blood-smeared steel. The blow rebounded with a shriek of metal, vibrations rippling through their limbs.Luo Ming counterpunched with his free hand—a brutal, straight jab that whipped the air into a violent gust. Just before impact, the kid twisted away, evading only barely, the force of the wind blowing him back to his original position. Luo Ming's lip curled in a snarl as he sized the boy up again—this adversary was nimble, yes, but he also seemed unbelievably calm given the ruinous wounds littering his body."I've got you now..." Luo Ming thought, focusing his Qi in his legs. Despite the deep cut in his chest, he forced his body forward in a faster dash than the child's initial move, aiming a fist at the boy's upper torso. Halfway through, Luo Ming's injured flesh twinged, slowing his strike. Still, it was dangerously swift.Rather than dodge, the child adjusted his body, bracing. Dark Veil shimmered at a precise point on his shoulder where Luo Ming's punch would land—yet the Qi-laced blow blasted through it with a wet, rending sound, skin and muscle shredding instantly. A split-second glimpse of exposed white bone glinted through the shredded flesh. Any normal cultivator would stagger or let out a wail. This kid gave no outward reaction, showing as little emotion as if he'd merely bumped into someone on a busy street.At that same moment, Silent Fang snapped into Luo Ming's abdomen in a pinpoint jab—a direct strike to an acupoint that partially governs Qi flow above the dantian. Luo Ming grunted in pain, forced back a few steps, clutching his midsection.He glared at the boy. "Dual casting?!" he spat, breathing ragged. "You really are a monster... Rgh!" He grimaced, trying to summon another attack. Instead, he felt his Qi responding at half its usual speed. "What...? My Qi... it's slowed? So this is your... your damned technique!" His voice wavered with a mix of rage and disbelief.Now robbed of some Qi speed, Luo Ming decided to switch to raw close-quarters combat, trusting in his superior age, experience, and physical advantage. They met in the center of the cavern in a flurry of hand-to-hand blows and short-range Qi moves. At first, Luo Ming started to edge forward, landing a cluster of hits on the kid, each blow accompanied by sickening impacts of fists against still-gaping wounds. More blood splattered as the child was forced back step by step, his clothing in tatters, shoulders laced with fresh cuts.Just as Luo Ming sensed victory and prepared to deliver a final strike, the child's entire fighting style changed. His footwork shifted, and the flow of his martial arts became something else—an unpredictable flurry of moves, each transition so fluid it looked like he'd invented them on the spot. Luo Ming's eyes widened as the boy hammered him with a rapid barrage, forcing him on the defensive."You were acting weak all along!" Luo Ming roared. "Pretending to be the pig to eat the tiger?!"At that moment, the kid's Silent Fang nailed Luo Ming again, this time near his core meridians, blocking his Qi flow for several seconds. Luo Ming let out a strangled gasp, staggering backward, unable to form a proper attack. Panic blazed in his eyes; he fired up what little Qi remained in his legs and retreated across the cavern, desperate for a sliver of time to restore his circulation."Ha, hah... hah..." He panted, sweat and blood trickling down his forehead. He forced his Qi to stir, trying to break the blockade at his dantian. Then, he raised his head, scanning for the boy—only for his face to twist in pure horror: the kid stood a mere meter from him, drenched in blood, expression colder than ever, Tang Dao raised overhead. Luo Ming's heart lurched."H-How did—" He never finished. The blade descended, burying itself in Luo Ming's skull with a sickening crunch. Bone splintered, and the top half of his head split open in a shower of gray matter and blood. A last gurgle rattled in his throat, his eyes rolling back. His body slumped instantly, and half his brain spewed over the rocky floor.Silence enveloped the cavern once more. The kid, panting and bleeding from countless lacerations, pulled his blade free from the ruined remains of Luo Ming's skull with a wet, sticky noise. Then, standing among the torn bodies, he forced his trembling legs to stay upright—victorious in a scene of utter, unspeakable carnage.▬▬ι═══════ﺤI panted, my lungs feeling as if they were ready to burst. A ragged, rasping "hah... hah..." echoed from my lips. Both of my legs trembled uncontrollably—pain radiated from my ankles upward. A quick, brutal assessment told me I'd ruptured both Achilles tendons during that final dash to finish the eighth-stage cultivator. Self-harm tactics, yes, but absolutely necessary. If I'd delayed that kill even a moment, I might not have had time to leave before their Elder arrived.Struggling to stand, I hobbled for the exit. Every nerve in my body screamed in protest. The entire cavern was a charnel house of severed limbs and puddles of viscera, but I paid it little heed, too focused on escape. I might have grabbed the bulging pouches tied to my enemies' belts, but greed and short-sight would doom me if their Elder arrived mid-looting.At last, the passage opened up to the mouth of the cave, letting in a dim, cold light. The swirling gloom of the Nocturnis Vale was a comfort compared to the slaughterhouse behind me. I braced an arm against the rough stone at the exit, forcing away a wave of dizziness. My body teetered on the brink of collapse, and I had just begun to wonder if I could vanish into the night when a crushing aura bore down on me, far more potent than anything I'd sensed before. The difference between that eighth-stage cultivator and this new presence was like the difference between heaven and earth.So he's arrived. My heart felt like a lump of lead as an invisible pressure descended. My every muscle locked up, protesting the aura that hammered me from behind. His killing intent was palpable—he wanted me dead. No illusions about it. My ragged state offered no illusions: I couldn't fight such a being. Even if I were at my peak, bridging that gap would be borderline impossible."Hmph! Impudent brat!" The voice thundered, seeming to reverberate through the stone walls. "I'll kill your nine generations for what you've done to my sect members!"A swirl of Qi hurtled at my back with lethal force. Reflexively, I spun and raised my Tang Dao to block. The instant our energies collided, my sword snapped into shards of metal, completely overwhelmed by the sheer power of this new attacker. The residual wave slammed into me, hurtling me out of the cave mouth like a doll.Blood coughed from my lips, spattering my chin, as the impact tore at my flesh. My entire torso flared with agony, bones cracking under the pressure. Yet that wasn't even the end—still midair, I watched a dark-robed man appear in front of me, as though he could teleport. His robes bore bloody red sigils, his killing intent coiling around him in thick waves.Grinning with sadistic glee, he thrust out a hand, forming a scarlet beam of Qi that pierced the air. I had no time—nor Qi reserves—to dodge. I twisted my body so it wouldn't strike vital organs. Even so, the beam punched through my side, leaving a gaping hole the size of a small lantern in my abdomen. A tide of warm blood poured out, and the leftover energy seared the wound from the inside, ravaging my organs. My vision blurred.My flight ended when I crashed into a small hill, hitting hard enough to fracture vertebrae. Jolts of pain lanced through me, my entire body trembling. The notion of fighting back was absurd. I could barely move. My Qi was almost spent, nothing but dregs left. The man hovered down, demonstrating the ability to fly—a testament to his immeasurable power. Fury twisted his face into something inhuman."All because of you," he snarled, stepping closer. "I lost the inheritance—my entire plan ruined!" With a guttural snarl, he smashed a fist into my face, wanting me to cry out. Instead, I remained silent, my features impassive. Rage blazed in his eyes."You little spawn... I'll make sure you regret every breath. We'll see how long that silence lasts," he hissed, forming a new technique. He tore into my body with relentless brutality—slamming my ribs, wrenching my broken limbs, and twisting the blood-caked flesh around my open gut wound. But I refused to grant him satisfaction, even as fresh agony crackled through my nerves. My consciousness flickered with each blow, but numb detachment kept me from uttering a single scream. My jaws clenched so tightly that my teeth ached."Brat..." he cursed, stepping back to catch his breath. My own breathing was ragged, my lungs feeling starved of air. Chunks of me that had once been intact now hang in bloody ribbons. He crouched, that malicious grin etched on his face. "Kowtow a hundred times, and I might give you a quick death—maybe even leave your corpse whole. Also, you'll hand over your secret technique." His voice was thick with cruelty. "Don't think I'm fooled. You can't have killed my sect mates with a mere fourth-stage cultivation alone."I gave no answer, only staring into his eyes with a dull, lifeless gaze. No reason to respond. He gnashed his teeth, fury rekindled, before he barked a hoarse laugh and slammed a heavy blow into my already gaping stomach wound, forcibly launching me once more. My world spun as I soared through the air, battered nearly senseless, the last shreds of strength in my limbs slipping away.Time seemed to slow, my mind drifting through memories. "So it ends here," I mused, body flung across a rocky expanse. "The weak are prey to the strong. Simple as that."He reappeared above me and hurled another Qi strike. I forced a final Dark Veil around my stomach to protect from the blow. The barrier's swirling energy shimmered with the last dregs of my Qi.Seeing me struggle to construct a defense, the man scoffed, his expression twisted with contempt. "A mantis trying to stop a chariot," he sneered, his voice laced with mockery. His attack connected with the barrier.
Crack
The barrier collapsed on contact, letting the residual force tear my stomach wound wider. My body jerked as fresh shards of agony racked my nerves, a wave of heat rushing up my throat. Then I crashed once more, colliding with a cluster of boulders near the base of an unassuming hill, scraping my back raw, dislodging more bones from their sockets.He landed with a graceful step, sneering as he saw me sprawled, motionless."Still alive, you roach," he muttered. "You should see yourself. You can't even stand. Yet still you stare at me with those cold eyes." He shook his head in mocking regret. "Such a waste. If you'd been part of my Bloodmoon Dynasty, the sect leader would have taken an interest in someone like you. But we can't share the same sky, boy."I said nothing, turning my gaze up to the dismal skies overhead. The clouds were a deep, roiling black, not unlike an oncoming storm. I drew in a ragged breath, ignoring the swirl of iron in my mouth, ignoring the rivulets of blood rolling down my torso. A hush enveloped my mind as I accepted that my fate was sealed. No last-second miracle. No illusions. This was the end for me.He readied his palm for a final Qi-blast, swirling red forming an orb in front of it. Even half-dead, I felt the lethal threat from that attack: it would blow out my chest or incinerate my head, whichever he chose. So be it.But in that instant, the hill behind me grew translucent, shimmering with some unknown Qi. He noticed it too late. A swirling motion grasped my body from behind, like a spectral hand pulling me in. "What—?!" the man barked, lunging forward with a savage lunge, but the transparent barrier flicked out, repelling him.I felt my exhausted form sucked backward, deeper into the hill's half-ethereal rock, and my vision faded under the swirling energies. The last thing I saw was the elder's face contorting in pure rage, spitting curses as his red Qi battered the hill's surface. Yet it refused him entry, ignoring his attempts. The world turned black for me. My body collapsed into unconsciousness.Darkness and numbness enveloped all.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
I awoke to an immediate, searing agony. Even before my eyes opened, I was painfully aware that my entire body felt like it had been ground into dust. And truly, when I managed to blink away my disorientation and glance down at myself, I found it a miracle I was still alive. My ragged breath came in shallow bursts, each inhale rattling through a chest that felt barely capable of expanding at all.I was lying on cold stone, within what looked like a small subterranean chamber. The first thing I did was remain still, focusing on not passing out from the waves of pain coursing along my battered limbs and torso."Over a hundred fractures... or more," I guessed. The human body has 206 bones, and I suspected over half of mine were broken or cracked in some manner. My internal organs felt inflamed, each an epicenter of torment. My abdomen, in particular, radiated a deep, ferocious ache that told me the hole from the Elder's Qi beam was far from healed. Indeed, only the faint scab of scalded flesh remained, and I felt a lingering toxic energy still chewing at the wound from within.For a long, hazy moment, I merely let myself lie there, trying to pull in air through the dryness of my throat. No Qi remained in my dantian—my reserves were fully drained. I wasn't sure how long I'd been unconscious, but it must have been enough time for minimal scabbing to form over open injuries. And yet, I was certain I'd bleed out if I moved too soon.After a while—minutes or an hour, I wasn't sure—I slowly, carefully closed my eyes and began to cultivate. Not in a formal pose, no lotus posture, because that alone would likely snap half my bones anew. I just focused on internal breathing, letting the ambient Qi of this place seep into my battered meridians.To my surprise, the Qi in the air felt heavy and rich, easily five times denser than that of my living quarters in the sect. In different circumstances, I might have marveled at discovering such a cultivation haven. Right now, I only used it to keep myself alive. The healing speed of my usual regeneration helped, but with such extensive damage, progress remained negligible. At best, I could keep from deteriorating further.▬▬ι═══════ﺤFive days passed in a blurry mixture of pain and half-conscious awareness. I drifted between short cultivations and fleeting bursts of unconsciousness. My single advantage was that no one came to disturb me. Yet each time I woke, I felt barely any improvement. My shoulders still throbbed; the gaping wound in my abdomen occasionally oozed fresh blood, aggravated by any movement. The tingling Qi residue from the Elder's attack lingered, infecting the wound with an aura that slowed my body's normal recovery. More than once, I coughed up black clots, a sign that the infiltration still raged within my flesh.On the fifth day, I finally mustered enough will to push myself upright. The pain that exploded at the attempt made black spots dance in my vision, but I clenched my jaw and forced my limbs to cooperate. Swallowing all the remaining Qi Replenishing Pills I had in my pouch, I tried to ignore how little they helped. My body needed time, not just pills. But time and resources were both scarce.I surveyed my immediate surroundings. The cavern was cramped, around eight meters across and even less in height. The walls were rough but seemed to have a swirling pattern of black and red streaks—an ore or something akin, though I recognized no hallmark of it. No sign of a door or corridor, no sign of the opening that had drawn me in.Gritting my teeth, I lurched to my feet, leaning heavily on the wall. My speed would have put the limp of a severely crippled person to shame—Sakayanagi had walked with a cane, but at least she could move with some fluidity. I was slower, each step feeling like my leg bones were grinding into dust. Still, I pressed on, scouring every corner for an exit or hidden passage.Amid that painstaking circuit, I discovered a small niche in the rock. Within it, half-buried under rubble, stood a stone idol about waist-high. The moment I laid eyes on it, a foul aura prickled along my skin, emanating in waves of dark red Qi. Ominous and oppressive. The idol's form was vaguely humanoid but distorted—twisting horns crowned its head, and lines like veins etched its chest. A malevolent presence clung to it, thick enough that it choked the breath in my lungs."No good," I muttered, taking a half step backward. My instincts screamed that meddling with that idol was a poor idea. Even battered as I was, I recognized a forbidden or at least extremely dangerous object. "I'll look elsewhere," I told myself.But the rest of the cave offered no comfort. After half an hour of hobbling, I confirmed the place was basically a closed chamber—fully sealed. The walls were solid; there were no cracks that led anywhere. No door. No entrance. My memory recalled how the hill had turned translucent and dragged me in, meaning it wasn't a natural formation."Hmph!"A snort echoed behind me from the idol's reaction. It made me spin so fast I almost toppled. Pain flared along my ribs. Recovering, I stared—a figure was emerging from the idol, like an incorporeal phantom.A shape coalesced into a middle-aged man—a savage countenance with a large scar slashing diagonally across his face, and continuing down his exposed stomach. His scarlet-red hair fell in thick waves, more intense in hue than Mo Hong's. It was like the color of blood. The Qi rolling off him was so immense it drowned the air in dread. Even the aura from Mo Hong and Sun Min, the two Nascent Soul cultivators, couldn't compare—this was an entirely different league, so colossal that my mind boggled at the difference.His eyes bored into me, interest or amusement flickering behind them. The savage scar lent him a permanently aggressive look, and his aura practically dripped menace. Even so, I tried to keep my face blank, ignoring the excruciating pain in my gut."Still in one piece, are you?" he said in a low voice, half to himself. The idol behind him flickered, a sign of whatever tethered him to this place. His gaze swept over my battered body, the hole in my side, and the dried blood caking my clothes. "I wasn't certain you'd endure that final strike."I swallowed, ignoring the agony lancing through my throat. "You... pulled me here," I said, remembering how the translucent hill had grabbed me and dragged me into this chamber. He must have been the one who rescued me at that last instant, before I bled out or got finished off."That's correct," he said, stepping away from the idol as though passing through a thin film of water. He radiated an aura reminiscent of half-embodied spirit, a remnant rather than a living cultivator. "Some call me the Crimson Sage, though that title is a relic of a time long past." His scar twisted with a faint sneer. "And you are the child who survived the slaughter outside my temple."His lips quirked, something like dark amusement in his expression. "I witnessed it all—the group of enemies, your so-called allies dying in droves, you dispatching your foes one by one until only that puny Foundation Establishment cultivator's intrusion nearly ended you." He scanned my injuries with a slow, methodical stare. "Quite the capacity for brutality you've shown, given your meager cultivation. That caught my interest."I exhaled, the mere motion straining my body. "Why did you... intervene?"He gave a dismissive wave. "Because I found you intriguing, that's all. My idol's wards recognized your Qi. In any case, I had the power to draw you into this hidden chamber, away from that man's finishing blow. So I did." His scarlet hair drifted, as though moved by an unfelt breeze. "Either you're an interesting seed to cultivate, or I let you die like the rest. I chose the first."My mind reeled. This man's aura surpassed anything I'd sensed before. And this was just a remnant—who knew how powerful his true body had once been?"What... do you want from me?"The Crimson Sage let out a low chuckle, a sound that sent a faint ripple through the air. "What do I want?" he echoed, tilting his head slightly. His crimson eyes gleamed, sharp with amusement yet carrying an unfathomable depth. "Now, that is an excellent question."His gaze bore into me, dissecting every fiber of my being as though peeling away layers of flesh and bone to examine whatever lay beneath. The air itself felt heavier under his scrutiny, charged with a weight that had nothing to do with Qi and everything to do with presence. His aura shifted, thickening with a metallic tang that clung to the air like an invisible mist. It wasn't just power that surrounded him—it was the weight of countless deaths. The very air felt drenched in the echoes of slaughter."Do not be so tense, child," he said smoothly. "If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't have wasted the effort to save you."I remained silent.A low hum left his lips as he took a slow step forward, the flickering idol behind him distorting ever so slightly."You possess something rare," he finally said. "An iron will, a mind as sharp as tempered steel. Even backed into a corner, bleeding out, you didn't succumb to fear. You fought." He grinned, revealing sharp, white teeth. "More importantly, you fought efficiently. No wasted movements. No desperate, reckless flailing. Every action, every kill, methodical." His amusement deepened. "Ah, what a rare thing to witness."I said nothing, my breath slow and measured despite the pain lacing every inhale."You intrigue me, boy." His tone was unreadable. "And I do so hate to waste potential." He raised a hand, his fingers curling faintly in the air. The space around us trembled in response, the faint scent of blood intensifying. "So I am offering you an opportunity."My eyes narrowed slightly. "What kind of opportunity?"His smile widened. "Simple. You are strong, but you are not enough. That fight—no, your entire existence until now—has been a mere struggle against limitations. You lack power, you lack knowledge, and you lack the means to transcend the shackles of this world." His voice turned almost coaxing, a thread of temptation woven into each syllable. "I can fix that."Power. Knowledge. Transcendence.I exhaled slowly, ignoring the faint coil of something dangerous curling in my gut."What's the price?" I asked flatly.His laughter came dark and rich, echoing against the unseen walls of this hidden space. The oppressive air around him pulsed, laced with unseen carnage, as though every death he had ever caused whispered through his Qi.The Crimson Sage's laughter faded, leaving behind an oppressive silence. The scent of blood still lingered, thick and cloying. His scarred face twisted into something between amusement and cruel expectation."Ah," he mused, his scarred face twisting with delight. "Now that is the right question.""You must undergo my inheritance, however, this is no ordinary inheritance, boy," he said, his voice carrying the weight of something absolute. "There is no gradual acceptance, no time for contemplation. You stand at the threshold of power, but the door only opens one way. Either you step through, or you are crushed beneath it."He continued on. "A test of worth. Succeed, and my legacy—my power—will be yours. Fail, and you will perish." He took a single step forward, his presence distorting the space around him. "No second chances. No mercy."The words settled into the air like a decree, absolute and binding. There was no room for hesitation. No negotiation. Either I survived this trial or I ceased to exist."Very well," I said simply. "Begin."The Crimson Sage grinned, his scar stretching across his face like a gash. "Good."The world around me shifted instantly, and everything once again turned black.▬▬ι═══════ﺤI woke up at 5:30 AM as usual, blinking my eyes open in my dorm room at Advanced Nurturing High School. The ceiling lights seemed as mundane as ever—nothing out of place. I sat up in my accustomed dorm bed, the fair hum of the air conditioning sounding in the background.Pushing aside the blanket, I rose from bed, changed into my gym clothes, and headed out for my regular morning exercise. In the gym, I briefly exchanged words with Sudo. He was pushing himself harder than usual, gearing up for the end-of-year Special Exam. I continued my own brief workout, then returned to my dorm to shower and prepare for the day ahead.Perhaps it was the tension of exams, or maybe I was imagining things, but I felt a flicker of awareness that time was passing too ordinarily. Discarding that thought, I headed out for the main building. Students congregated in small groups, discussing notes or chatting about weekend plans. So far, the day was as routine as any other at ANHS.By mid-morning, we'd settled into our first classes. The final exam schedule posted on the board reminded everyone how close the year's end was. The teacher droned on about test formats, but I found my thoughts drifting. Strange. I feel... oddly unsettled. Yet there was no apparent reason—just a faint sense that something could be off. But the day progressed with quiet normalcy, and I couldn't place any real cause for this feeling.At lunchtime, I walked to the cafeteria, tray in hand, scanning for a free table. Kei flagged me down, smiling from across the room. I joined her at a small table by the window. She had a half-finished meal, chatting enthusiastically about some new clothing store that had opened in the mall district on campus."Seriously, it's all the rage right now," Kei said, fiddling with her fork. "I saw so many new arrivals—lots of cute stuff. You should come with me once the exam's over."I nodded, half-focused on her words. Part of me flickered with déjà vu, as though we'd had this conversation before. But that made no sense. I'd definitely remember a conversation about a brand-new store if we'd had it. Maybe I was conflating it with her usual updates about fashion. I pushed the odd thought aside.Across the cafeteria, I briefly noticed Ryuen with his group. He looked up, our gazes meeting for a split second. A small smirk tugged at his lips, typical of his borderline-taunting manner. Nothing out of the ordinary. I returned my attention to Kei, who was giving me a curious look."You're off in your head again," she teased, though her tone carried slight concern. "Worried about the tests, or what? I never see you this absent.""Just... thinking," I replied, not offering specifics. "But I'm fine." It was the same answer I always gave, and Kei's eyes narrowed a bit in mild exasperation, but she let it drop.We finished lunch, discussing trivial things like new coffee flavors at the café. Afterward, we went off to the next class, our afternoon periods.In the final class—Japanese History with Chabashira—I sat at my usual desk. Light streamed in, forming a warm patch on the floor. Matsushita, seated beside me, occasionally glanced my way, as if uncertain about something. Or maybe just bored. Chabashira droned on about Meiji era reforms, but my mind again nibbled at that sense of mild unease. Why did I feel as if I was stepping through a script I'd read before?I absently tapped my pen on the desk, trying to ground myself in the present. The classroom smelled faintly of chalk dust, the teacher's voice quiet and monotone. My classmates looked similarly resigned, wanting the day to end. If not for that unshakable feeling, I'd categorize this entire experience as another forgettable slice of daily school life.Suddenly, the classroom door slammed open with a jarring crack—loud enough to make several students gasp. In fact, it wasn't just opened—it had been kicked in, the impact sending a dull reverberation through the walls. Instantly, every conversation died. Chabashira froze mid-sentence, turning to see what was going on.A large group—twelve people—stormed inside. They weren't dressed in anything resembling the school uniform or normal clothes. Instead, they wore mismatched combat suits, some brandishing knives or batons. A couple carried short swords. Their appearances were all over the place: one man looked like a scruffy, savage bandit with wild hair and a heavy scar across his jaw, while another was a strikingly beautiful young woman in sleek black attire, holding a blade with deadly poise. There were older individuals, younger ones, men and women—no shared uniform, no single style. It was like a collage of mercenaries thrown together out of nowhere.The rest of the class froze, each student stiffening. Horikita's eyes flicked around, evaluating. Sudo gripped the edge of his desk, about to stand. Kei, who sat near me, sucked in a tiny gasp, her gaze darting from me to the intruders. The entire room was locked in shock."What on earth—?!" Chabashira started, voice taut, but the savage man at the forefront growled a warning. Another figure, the beautiful woman, scanned the rows of desks, her expression cold and predatory.Twelve intruders, armed and radiating a readiness for violence. They had battered the door open without any warning and now stared down an entire class in an advanced high school. The dissonance was stark: a modern, safe education environment assaulted by a ragtag band of seemingly professional—or at least ruthless—fighters.Some of them twitched as if about to say something, but the savage, burly man took the lead. He spoke in a low, harsh voice that clashed with the tidy classroom ambiance. "Nobody move," he commanded. "We're here for a reason." He lifted an axe, letting it glint threateningly in the fluorescent light. At his back, the other eleven spread out, forming a rough semicircle around the stunned students.No one dared breathe too loudly. Sudo half-rose, fists tight, but the man shot him a glare. "Sit down," he snarled, brandishing that axe at Sudo's direction. Sudo, uncertain if it was worth risking a fight, slowly sank back, though tension rippled in his shoulders. Meanwhile, Ike and Shinohara looked terrified, glued to their chairs. Even Horikita remained stock-still, though her eyes flickered, likely calculating possible outcomes."What... is the meaning of this?" Chabashira demanded, mustering her usual stern tone, but the group ignored her, scanning each desk. The savage man turned, noticing the teacher. "You. Stop yapping. We're not here for conversation." He took a step forward, brandishing the axe near Chabashira's face. She stiffened, swallowing her protest. Silence clamped over the classroom once more.One of the intruders let out a rasping chuckle, his gaze snapping between me and the savage axe wielder. Then his face contorted into a mix of anger and grim delight as he spoke, directing everyone's attention to me. "Look who I've found," he hissed. "If it isn't Bái Xūé... or should I say, Ayanokoji Kiyotaka?"Instantly, my classmates' eyes darted to me in shock, panic rippling through the room. Bái Xūé? The name meant nothing to me, yet a flicker of some deep, unplaceable recollection nagged at the back of my mind. Why did it feel as if I'd heard it before somewhere? At the same time, the intruders—twelve in total, now minus the axe wielder stepping forward—turned as one and glowered at me with a hatred that felt personal, like they'd been hunting me.All around, my classmates radiated dread. From the corner of my eyes, outside the classroom, I spotted Ichinose, Sakayanagi, Ryuen and even Amasawa who looked like she was ready to jump into the chaos. A few students from other classes had gathered, eyes wide, but nobody dared intervene. For a fleeting moment, I wondered Are they delusional? Why aren't they escaping?Ignoring them, I yet again saw every student in the room. My old friend group had panic and fear written in their faces, presumably fearing my situation."W-Why do they know your name, Kiyot—?" Kei stammered, shivering at my side. Her question trailed off the moment one of them growled at her. Horikita joined in, trying to broker calm, but the hostile group dismissed any attempts at peace with a single glare."Stand aside," I told Kei and Horikita, my voice edged with a cold finality. The tension in my tone made them step away, despite wanting to shield me. An this moment, I recognized that discussion was pointless. They wanted my head—no question.The bandit-like man hefting the axe finally advanced. "Hahaha, there he is, the ruthless boy, but this is the end for you." He curled his lips in a sneer, brandishing the weapon with savage confidence, as though he couldn't wait to split me in half.I took a slow breath and stood up from my seat, ignoring Kei's frightened whisper of my name. The intruder seized the moment: he swung his axe full speed toward my torso, the air whistling from the force. Students screamed my name, but I'd already emptied my mind of their cries, focusing on the man's trajectory.In the space of a heartbeat, I twisted my body a fraction to the side, letting the axe whoosh past me. It slammed instead into the desk, splitting it in two with a deafening crunch of wood. Before the man could yank the blade free, I struck: my right elbow snapped forward, smashing into his solar plexus with every ounce of force I had. He gasped, eyes bulging, the wind knocked out of him. I caught the back of his head with my left hand, preventing him from staggering away. A strangled grunt tore from his throat.With a swift downward jerk, I shoved his head toward the stuck axe—his own momentum causing his face to collide painfully with the metal. He shrieked in muffled agony, blood spurting across the handle. Not done, I raised my right foot and brought it stomping down on the back of his skull, driving it further into the axe's sharpened edge.A sickening, wet crunch rang out as his skull caved. A fountain of crimson and clotted brain matter spattered upward, painting my shoes and the remnants of the desk. The man's cry ended in a gruesome gurgle. His body went limp, twitching once as his last breath escaped in a choking rasp. I exhaled, withdrawing my foot from the bloody pulp that remained of his head.Silence slammed over the classroom, so complete that you could've heard a pin drop. Shock gripped both my classmates and the rest of the intruders. Even the other eleven armed assailants hesitated, eyes flicking from their comrade's destroyed corpse to me, as though reconciling some memory.A heavy tension radiated through the room. My classmates—Ike, Shinohara, Maezona, Kei, Horikita, Matsushita, all of them—looked at me in undisguised horror. Even Koenji was shocked and found no words in this situation. I probably appeared monstrous, face and blazer sprayed with fresh gore, breathing level as if unaffected. The sight must have contradicted everything they believed about me.I calmly peeled off my blazer—now soaked in red and chunks of brain tissue—and used part of it to wipe some of the blood splatter from my face. Tossing the ruined garment aside, I stood in my white collared shirt, faint red splotches staining the front. My expression remained impassive, unflinching. The job was done.My classmates were speechless. Kei's eyes welled with tears, unable to fully reconcile the quiet me with the gore-splattered figure standing over a mangled corpse. Horikita's knuckles whitened on her desk, her composure shaken. Ryuen watched with an odd expression that yet hinted at admiration... or terror. Chabashira, our teacher, could only stare, lips parted, at the dead intruder near my destroyed desk.I stood there, letting the hush persist. My breathing was steady, my eyes coldly assessing the remaining foes. This wasn't over. They still outnumbered me. But the brutal demonstration left them momentarily rattled.Inside, I felt only a numb acceptance, my mind coldly acknowledging the necessity of such violence. If they intended to kill me, I had no choice. Even if I couldn't piece together how or why this happened in a normal high school environment, it seemed my instincts guided me. Now, I was here, in a classroom-turned-battlefield, awaiting the next move.A jagged cracking sound erupted as I yanked the axe free from the corpse, the broken remains of the bandit's skull slipping off with a wet thud. For a heartbeat, that was the only noise in the entire room—an eerie hush enveloped the classroom. My classmates, trembling and pale, stared in wide-eyed horror at my calm, emotionless demeanor. It must have appeared downright inhuman to them.But I was too immersed in my own thoughts, letting fragments of realization slot into place. All pieces of the puzzle fell together. Everything lined up. I remembered everything: How I was transported to another world, my time in the Nightshade Monastery, and finally the inheritance trial by the Crimson Sage. These intruders were faces from my past kills. Possibly illusions or constructs, repeating the moment of their demise—except now set in a bizarre stage of my classroom. If the trial's goal was to test whether I recognized its falsity, I'd have succeeded. Yet it continued. So it must be something else: perhaps I needed to kill them again. I'd already done it once. Doing so a second time was trivial."You! I'll kill you, brat!" roared a furious voice. My attention snapped back to the present. One of the men I recognized as the "uncle" figure from the original bandit encounter. His eyes blazed with hatred and grief. He lunged, a sword slashing down in a wild arc.I raised the axe to block, the blades meeting with a resounding clang. At the same moment, several more converged on me, weapons ready to strike. A swift pivot let me sidestep the uncle's blow, forcing him off balance. I took the chance to swing at him, ignoring his own feeble attempt at a counter. If neither of us flinched, our strikes would land simultaneously—yet I knew, from experience, that he'd retreat rather than trade a lethal blow.Sure enough, the man stumbled back to avoid my slash. I was prepared: the second he moved, I hurled the axe. It spun through the air and lodged in his back with a meaty thud. He released a strangled cry, crashing face-first to the floor. Blood spurted around the embedded axe, forming an ever-spreading pool of dark red.I wasted no time. Ripping his sword free from his stiffening hand, I turned, scanning for new threats. The stench of blood rose thickly, pungent enough that some students vomited—the retching sounds blending with the dying gurgles of the man. Around me, half the intruders tried to rally, but my blade was in motion before they could coordinate. A savage thrust here, a deft slash there—limbs parted from torsos, skulls caved in under repeated blows. Their own illusions of superiority crumbled as I attacked with precise footwork and disciplined technique. It wasn't brute force; each strike was carefully timed to exploit an opening, each parry minimal, turning their power against them."Aaaaagh—" one man screeched, my sword piercing his heart. He dropped in a spray of blood. I stepped over him, scything the blade into another's throat, severing carotid and jugular in one fluid motion. Another stumbled back, only to have me lunge forward—slicing a diagonal gash across his chest so deep that I glimpsed bone. He collapsed, screaming, while my classmates watched, paralyzed.Chaos overtook the classroom. Students shrieked at each fresh spatter of gore, cowering behind desks or dropping to the floor. The intruders' once-confident expressions twisted into panic. The smell of viscera and fear blanketed the room. My breath was even, my pulse steady, no adrenaline shock—just an icy calm reminiscent of that first time I'd needed to kill for survival. Indeed, I recognized each kill, remembering the original scenario. The logic was coldly consistent: "I have done this already. Another time won't change anything."Splatters of blood painted the walls, the floor slick with the remains of the fallen. The next moment, two more collapsed, one from a severed spinal cord, the other with a sword lodged in his eye socket. Neither screamed for long.Eventually, only three remained. The first two were the so-called seventh-stage cultivators who died from the others' attack, trembling at my unstoppable approach, while the third—Luo Ming, their past leader—stood to the side, face livid, arms shaking. They hesitated to converge. Still, hatred burned in Luo Ming's eyes.I dashed at him without warning, ramming the blunt edge of the sword into his solar plexus. His breath whooshed out, his body folding. I left him gasping for air on his knees and pivoted to the two cultivators. They looked uncertain, glancing between their wounded leader and me, but they mustered what was left of their courage to attack. A quick exchange of blows: metal clashed, echoing alongside muffled sobs from the students. With each frantic strike they made, I dodged or parried, forcing them into corners. Finally, I sliced off both of their arms at the elbows, each blow done with a single, precise slash. They collapsed to the ground, howling, blood gushing from the stumps.Silence descended.Their stumps spurted red, forming puddles on the tile floor as I stood amidst the carnage, sword slick with gore. My classmates were beyond words, faces ghostly pale. Some had fainted, others vomited or clutched each other in trembling horror. The classroom was unrecognizable, a scene of abattoir-level brutality. And me—unscathed and unnervingly calm—stood in the center of it all.I let my gaze drift back to Luo Ming, who still knelt, coughing for air. The illusions—the trial—should be nearly over. I stared at the mutilated bodies, recalling how I'd ended them in the real fight. This felt so routine now. As if their final demise was always fated. The hush pressed on every side, broken only by ragged breathing and the drip, drip of blood off the desks.Taking a step forward, I dropped my sword momentarily, the metal clattering on a once-clean floor. Then I grabbed both of the still-screaming men by the back of their hair, dragging their limp form across the slick tiles, ignoring their frenzied shrieks. My shoes skidded a bit, gore pooling at every step. At that obscene sight, the classroom's hush reached a new depth, as though even the air refused to carry sound.
Silence.
Silence that didn't last long, as, behind me, Kei and a few others uttered a faint cry. I ignored them all. My focus was wholly on finishing the last vestiges of the men. As I pulled the two barely conscious men, I felt no flicker of hesitation. This was the trial. If it demanded I kill them again, then I would do so. This trial was after all connected to my survival.I released the broken-limbed man, letting his body slump to the floor in a heap of trembling flesh, but I still maintained my grip on the other—my left hand curled around his hair, keeping him upright. The classroom air was thick with the stench of blood and viscera, mingling nauseatingly with the acrid tang of vomit. My next move was methodical: with my free right hand, I unlatched the tall second-floor window and slid it up, letting a cool breeze sweep into the gore-laden room.Several students gasped, suspecting what I intended. The wounded man on the ground realized it too. His eyes bulged in panic the moment I seized him by the collar. "N-No, please!" he rasped, his voice raw from screaming. "I won't— I promise, I—!" His pleas died mid-sentence. With a burst of strength, I hauled him up, ignoring his flailing arms as he tried to cling to my sleeves. In one clean movement, I tossed him out the window."AHHHHHHHHHHH—!" The scream dwindled in a blink, replaced by a sickening thud from outside. It left a horrible echo in the still air, and a few of my classmates cried out, some reflexively covering their mouths to stifle new waves of nausea.Then I turned my attention to the man still in my left hand. He had been half delirious, but hearing his comrade's terminal shriek snapped him back. Terror flooded his gaze. "Please, no—No, wait, I—!" But I didn't hesitate. Shifting my stance, I hurled him through the open window as well.Another scream cut through the corridor's hush, sharper and more desperate than the first. Again, it stopped abruptly with a dull, bone-crunching impact. Peering outside, I glimpsed their bodies sprawled on the ground two stories below, arms and legs twisted. They lay side by side, blood pooling beneath them, ironically entwined in death as they crashed together.I exhaled faintly, turning to face the remainder. The entire class stared at me, horrified. There was something undeniably more chilling about an execution by gravity, listening to a victim's final scream abruptly stop. It was a haunting finale, resonating in their ears. Even those too numb to react earlier showed fresh shock, as though this method of killing rankled their nerves more than all the butchery inside.My gaze landed on the last man still breathing—Luo Ming, their supposed leader, or at least the final survivor of this farce. He'd managed to regain enough sense to witness both of his allies flung to their deaths. Now he crouched near a toppled desk, an ugly gash on his forehead, eyes reflecting raw terror as they locked onto my cold stare."You... you...monster!" he spat, spittle flying. "How can someone like you even exist?!"I strode forward, ignoring his outburst. He tried to back away, but his injuries slowed him. I seized him by the throat, not squeezing yet, simply pinning him in place like a specimen. He panicked, voice cracking. "I—I surrender! Please! Mercy—!"As though hearing a cue, Chabashira crept closer behind me. Her voice shook. "A-Ayanokoji... you've done enough. If you kill him now, it's... the police are already on their way. This might not count as self-defense anymore."Her words drifted over me, hollow. I glanced around, seeing the devastation I'd wrought: blood spread in wide arcs on the floor, desks and chairs spattered with brain matter, severed body parts scattered like grotesque debris. The smell was suffocating. Some of my classmates huddled against the walls, tears streaking their faces; others looked ready to collapse. Forty-plus eyes stared at me with various degrees of shock, horror, and incomprehension.Who wouldn't? They saw me, a 17-year-old, disposing of 12 armed adults without facing injuries, killing them brutally one after the other, without showing any remorse or emotion.I let my gaze drift across the room, taking in each reaction. Kei stood frozen, tears silently streaming down her cheeks, her eyes locked onto me as if she no longer recognized the person standing before her. Horikita, usually composed, had gone deathly pale, lips parted in stunned disbelief. Sudo, who had always seen himself as a fighter, stiffened in the corner, his fists clenched—not out of defiance, but from the quiet, crushing realization that I was something far beyond what he could ever contend with.Even those I once considered part of my old friend group couldn't meet my eyes. Ichinose, standing in the corridor, covered her mouth with both hands, her body trembling as tears welled up. Ryuen, the one who had once called me a monster with casual amusement, now wore a look of raw unease. He had spoken the words before, but he never truly understood what they meant. Now, he did. Now, he had his answer.Sakayanagi regarded me with an expression I couldn't quite place—pity, perhaps, or maybe something more unreadable. And then there was Amasawa. Unlike the others, she didn't look away. Her golden eyes, sharp and unwavering, bore into me with something akin to... reverence.Koenji, for once, was silent. The ever-present arrogance in his posture remained, but there was a shift—something more measured, more cautious. He ran a hand through his golden locks, his smirk absent for the first time. His crimson gaze swept over the ruined classroom, over the lifeless bodies sprawled across the blood-slicked floor. "Oho..." He exhaled, almost in admiration. "Such magnificent carnage." His voice lacked its usual mockery. Instead, there was something else—genuine intrigue, laced with unease. "Even I must admit, Ayanokoji-boy, you truly are on an entirely different level." His chuckle was subdued this time, carrying none of its usual confidence. "Perhaps... even beyond my understanding."Kushida, however, had no composure left to maintain. The cracks in her perfect mask shattered completely. "What the fuck..." The words slipped out of her in a breathless murmur, her own voice betraying her. Her hands trembled at her sides, caught between horror, confusion, and something else she didn't want to name—fascination.Hirata stood paralyzed, his idealistic world crumbling around him. His hands curled into white-knuckled fists at his sides. He wanted to say something—to reach for logic, for a moral framework that could make sense of this. But there was none. His voice cracked when he finally spoke. "This isn't..." His breath was shaky. "This isn't what people should do to each other."He took a slow step back. Then another. His instincts were screaming at him that what he was witnessing was not something any normal person was meant to see.Because in this moment, one undeniable truth settled over everyone in that bloodstained room:
I was not normal.
I let out a faint sigh. Returning my attention to Chabashira, I spoke calmly, "Sorry, sensei, but this matter is not up for discussion." She opened her mouth, maybe to protest, but I ended the exchange instantly. My grip on Luo Ming's throat tightened. A single twist, a sharp jerk, and a dull snap filled the air as his cervical vertebrae shattered.His head lolled to the side, eyes rolling back. I released my hold, and his lifeless body thumped onto the already blood-soaked tiles. Blood trickled from his slack jaw, joining the large congealed stains. The final intruder was gone.Silence reigned, an oppressive blanket of dread. Even the faint hum of the school's ventilation seemed muffled by the stench of gore. My classmates, the teacher, and the onlookers from the doorway stood frozen, uncertain whether this grisly scene was real. As for me, I felt no flicker of guilt, no relief—only a numb sense of finality.Now what? I wondered. Will the world fade to black, returning me to that hidden cavern? According to the logic of this 'inheritance trial,' I'd dispatched them all. So where was the conclusion?I stood among the dead, awaiting whatever shift or exit would end this twisted scenario.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Warning: If you like COTE characters, there will be a section that you can skip (marked).
I stood in the blood-splattered classroom, my shoes half-submerged in gore, while a hush, so thick, settled that every breath felt deafening. Then came the frantic pair of footsteps from the corridor, and my gaze lifted to the doorway. Nagumo appeared first, flanked by Chairman Sakayanagi. When they beheld the grisly carnage and my figure stained from head to toe in vivid red, both men fell silent, color draining from their faces.Nagumo's mouth opened, forming a barely audible murmur. "W-what... happened...?" Chairman Sakayanagi's expression was equally rattled, but he forced composure. "Kiyotaka," he started, voice heavy with pity and regret, reminiscent of the look he'd often reserved for his daughter, Arisu. Then, locking his gaze on me, he added, "Please wait until the police arrive. They'll... want to question you."I registered his words only dimly; my mind was still consumed by the question of why the trial had not ended. I had killed all twelve intruders. That should have concluded this elaborate farce, but nothing shifted or dissolved back to the cavern. My classmates and staff simply stared at me, too horrified for rational thought. The choke of iron-scented air lingered.Their voices blended into meaningless background noise as I turned toward the open window. It was the very same from which I'd thrown two men mere moments before. I stepped up to it in a single stride."O-Oi, Ayanokoji, where are you going?" Sudo sputtered, voice unsteady, the shock in his eyes betraying that he still hadn't processed all he'd seen.From behind him, Kei and Chabashira also spoke, calling my name. But I ignored them. Without pausing, I climbed over the sill and leapt out, seizing the rainwater pipe with one hand to slow my fall. The building's second floor wasn't too high, so in a swift slide and a short drop, I landed on the ground below.Above me, the second-floor windows swarmed with silhouettes, students and teachers crammed together, peering down. Distantly, I heard their cries and exclamations—"Kiyotaka!" "Ayanokoji-kun!"—mingling in a chaotic echo. But I didn't look back. Wiping blood from my brow, I moved through the campus grounds.Step by step, I made my way across the courtyard, each stride leaving faint bloody footprints on the once-pristine paving stones. Despite knowing this was all an illusion, the sheer accuracy of my surroundings stirred a mild unease. My memory of the campus matched perfectly. It was unnerving to see everything so flawlessly replicated, and my mind buzzed with questions about whether the Crimson Sage himself crafted this world or if it was formed from my memories.Still, I couldn't wander around drenched in blood forever. Making a quick decision, I broke into a run toward the dorm buildings. The clock indicated lessons were ongoing, meaning almost no one would be in the dorm halls right now. That gave me relative freedom to slip in undetected.Reaching the dormitory, I found the corridors empty as expected. The silence weighed on the air, every footstep echoing in the stillness. Good—no gawkers, no curious onlookers.I hurried up a flight of stairs, my shoes squeaking with congealed blood, leaving smears on the steps that I didn't bother to wipe up. Reaching my room, I unlocked the door and let myself inside, flicking on the overhead light. Without hesitation, I stripped off the blood-drenched clothes, bundling them into a plastic bag left over from old packaging. I then retrieved a fresh uniform from the closet—pants, shirt, and the school blazer. Before pulling them on, I stepped into the bathroom to rinse the worst of the blood from my arms and face. A quick glance at my reflection showed streaks of reddish water swirling down the drain, but no sign of any deep injuries on my body. Physically, I was unscathed—just spattered in blood.Feeling marginally more presentable, I grabbed a small towel to wipe my still-wet hair. Before heading out, I glanced around the dorm room. Everything looked in place—an eerily perfect copy, down to the minor scuff on my desk chair. Then, satisfied I was less conspicuous, I left the room, locking it behind me. Making my way back down the dorm stairs, I noted the same emptiness. No chance encounters with students or staff. Just more echoing silence.Stepping outside once more, I sprinted toward the front gate. At the front gate, I paused, taking in the crisp air. In the distance, I spotted flashing lights—the distinctive red and white of approaching police cars. The wail of sirens cut through the hush, growing louder with each passing second until the vehicles screeched to a halt. Doors flung open, and a cluster of uniformed officers stepped out, scanning for any sign of disturbance. Their expressions were grim, tension thick in the air.One officer—a tall man with a stern face—noticed me immediately. He frowned slightly, as if expecting a staff member and not a student. Still, he took a step toward me, hand on his utility belt."Are you from this school, son? We received an urgent call of armed intruders," he said, glancing past me toward the main building.I inclined my head briefly, my demeanor calm. "Yes. Chairman Sakayanagi told me to direct you. He's in the second-floor classroom with the rest, where the incident took place."He studied me, perhaps puzzled that I wasn't panicking or asking for help. "I see." His gaze flicked to my uniform—spotless, except for a few wrinkles from my hurried change—but nothing seemed off. He nodded. "Can you lead us?"I gestured in a collected manner toward the building. "Through the main doors, up one flight, turn left at the first corridor," I recited, as though I'd rehearsed. "The Chairman asked me to wait here for additional responders, so I'll remain outside," I added, improvising a reason not to go with them.He hesitated, possibly unsure how a student could remain so unruffled while a crisis loomed. But their priority was to reach the scene. "Alright," he said, turning to his squad. "Stay put. We'll be back with questions." A quick wave, and they hurried off, leaving me at the gate.Silence returned as soon as the officers disappeared into the building. I glanced around—the last stragglers from earlier seemed to have vanished, and sirens in the distance suggested more vehicles were approaching. I wondered if the next step of the trial demanded something else.My attention fell on a nearby police car, engine still running, the driver's door slightly ajar. The key was in the ignition—a careless oversight. No one was around to stop me.With a short sigh, I slipped into the driver's seat and pulled the door shut. The seats were standard vinyl and the dash illuminated with the telltale glow of an active system. I placed my hands on the wheel.I started the engine. It purred smoothly, and I saw no one rushing to intervene. The campus behind me was quiet, the main building's doors wide open for the officers. A fleeting image of what might be happening inside flashed by. But I had no role there. My part was to move on.Pulling away from the curb, I eased the car onto the adjacent road, the campus gates passing in my peripheral vision. The bright midday sun glinted off the hood. The illusions might shift me back to that cavern or morph the environment once more. Either way, my mind was oddly at peace, navigating an empty street with no second thoughts.The day's light streamed through the windshield, and suddenly my vision turned dark, yet again.I found myself back in the classroom, blood once again staining my uniform. Nagumo and Chairman Sakayanagi once again stood at the door, mirroring images of what happened seconds ago, their faces equally pale and stunned."W-what... happened?" Nagumo's faltering words were the same as before, the same scene playing out in exact detail. Ignoring him, I focused on the ticking clock in my mind. If this loop repeated itself, I had limited time—ten, maybe fifteen minutes until the police arrived in full force. That had to be enough to do whatever the Crimson Sage's trial demanded.Suddenly, whispers slammed into my thoughts, voices echoing inside my head."̶̧̭̌K̷̝̃i̴̗̿̀ḽ̷́͛̒̽l̵͈̥͐ ̵̮̬̩́͗y̴̗̓͐o̶̗͒̉ȕ̸̯͓̳͜r̴̥̪̺̿͐ș̴͚̖̍̈̒e̷̢̞̠̿͂ĺ̷̤̭̉f̶̰̐ͅͅ!̸͈͚̈́̋̅"̵̸̠͍͖̤̗̎͗̄͜"̸̦͋͗̈́̚Y̶͚͙͔͆̂́o̸͎͚̦̾͑̄u̵̡̢̠̽ ̴̜͗d̷̺͂ë̶̘̫͑̓̽v̴̫͓̚ì̴͕̬̫̔l̷̝̈́—̸͖̹̭͐̒̄l̶̻͓̬̫̑e̷̹̹͛̓͝a̴̝̟̙̻̎̈̍̀v̵̮̫̋e̶̛͍̭̮̙ ̴͇̂͋͜t̴͇̐͛̄̓h̶͈̰͉̓̈i̴̢̦̭̋̊s̵̟̈̑̈ ̵̫̦̺͗̈́w̴̹̺̺̃͘͜õ̶͕̩̬͎̃̑r̵̻͋̀͝l̶̠͔̮̤̈̚d̷̹̘͑͐̂͘!̸͍̩͖̠̀́̿"̸̵̧̗̦͓̟͚͈͖̉̿̌̐̚"̶̻̙͇̈́Ÿ̵̰̈́o̸͉̻͍͖̿̎̚ṳ̷͉̉'̵̡̰̝͋̀̒̌r̴͚͙̽ę̴̘̣̀̔͊ ̶̥̣̿̚ȁ̴̘̅̒͐ ̶͎̮͇̉̑̕m̴̲̠̭̗̋͘ö̴̦́n̵̢̥̥͗s̴̡͓͝t̴̫̱́̇͆̂e̶͇̪̫͋͆͗r̵̡̈́̋̔̈́!̶̧̞͎̮̆͋̾̆"̶̶͓̖̬̲͑̓͊͆̒"̸͈̇͝͝Ḧ̸̗̟͓́̑̓͘ȯ̷̲̹̥͌̅͝w̶̯͕͕̓ ̴̺̺͚̌͌̑̌ͅc̸̡̻̿̋̽ͅą̴͈̑̇n̴̢̪̘̫̏͘ ̶͙̣͂͠s̷͍͕͊͋o̷̪͑m̷͍̿̂e̵̥̳̿̈́͝o̸̡̰̻̒n̸͇̰͇̽̚͠e̵͎̭͑́̽ ̵̻͖̂l̸͈̉̊i̵̬̲̳͒̎k̸̡͉͘ę̴̬͎̬͛͗̅̕ ̴̢̭͚͉̇͑́̒y̸̨͓͒̐̔̒o̵͕̜̩̬͠ų̸̨̯̳͊ ̶̢̧̪̏̑ë̵̢̧̳͙v̸͕̗̇ë̷͉̙́͜n̸̜̳͚̅̌̽ ̶̖͆̚ę̶̈́̋x̵̖̐̏i̸̪̊̿͠ṡ̸̟͔̼̠t̷̟̎̌?̵̘͒̔̉!̷̬͚̋"̷̧̨̫̰̈́͘"̸̡̧̹̩̞̞͂W̸̜̱̉̓͆̂́̍̅h̴̡͗̀̃ä̸̟͇͚̯̲́͆̆͌͐̓̚t̶̢̛̛̰̬̹̀̆̍͑̄͘...̵̛͇̹̈́̅̍̃̽̀̆ ̷̠͋͐̈́͗h̷͙͙͖͈͉̓́̎͒̓̀̎͝a̵̧͇̙͗͛͌v̷̧̛̯̘̤̞͛͒̾͗͠e̴̠̹͓̱͂̂ ̴̪̲̬͖͔͓͊̄̾͛̒̈͜͠͠ͅI̶͔̝͈͙͗ ̸͈͇̘̞̳͙͎̄͒̀̿͐̊͐͝ḓ̶̢̬͕̰͚͝ô̸̜̞̱̫̳̌͘͘n̸̺̿̌̐̈́͗̓̆̀ę̴̨͎̙̩̭̔̅̏̆͊͌̕...̴̨̡̰̂̐̓͋̉̒̔͝?̷͎͊̅̄́̃̋̅"̶̴̛̛̩͙̩̗̱͎̜̀̾̾̊̈́̏̈́͋̀̚͝"̴̠̖̼͓̟̅̔̔͒̇͛̈́͝Í̷̡̥̘͙͓͙̤̜̒͂ ̴̧̘̩̳̓̌̅̉̈́š̵̡̨͎̘̖̜̜̄̀͘̕͜͠͝h̸͓̉̓͂̓̃̄͘͜o̸̭̓͗̾̕ù̴̥̗̭̥̾̒̑͌̄ḷ̶͉͚͕̋̇̊͂̽d̶̛̼̟͇̈̒̐͒ņ̸̡̣̯̻̙̋̎͜'̶̨͖͂͂̀̾͠t̸̲̓̂ ̴̧̧̢͙̺̙͇̒̀̔̒͛͝b̴̫͙̺̥̤̟͍͑̿̏͑̐̕̕͠ȩ̵̪̟̞̈̉̋̈́͐ ̷̯͍̳̈́ȁ̶͉̱̻͙̘̭͙͋͜l̴̞̏̀͂̍î̵̯͉̞͌̈́̃͛͑͠v̴̮͂͑e̷̛̦̝͂̒̌́̇̇̿ͅ—̴̨̧͎͙͈̯̟̃͌̅͋"̵̵̧̜̱͚̠̜̗̯̪̫̒̔̆̏̍̏̒͛̂͝"̸̲͓̠̣̻̜͝E̷̛̥̫͇̗̗̾͗͒̉̉n̴̨̧̛̝̣͖d̶͔͇͓̀̉̓͊̽̚͠͝ ̶̢̼͚̭͍̬́́̅͆͊i̴̺͛́̊͝t̶̪̦̘͎͖̏ ̶̰͎̦̤̽̾̿̿̆͒a̵̫͙̺̭̩̹͊̆̓̄͗̓́͒l̵̯̻̀͜l̶̡͎̳̩͚͖̚...̶̺̼̹͈̹͆̿̔̐̀̿"̶̧̧̲̤͕͇́̈́̽͝M̴̻͔̫̳͖̻͓̬̮̞̳͉͓͇̋̊͊̀̍͂̃̑͆͆̔̀͂̏͘Ơ̶̙͇̞̳̲̖͙̂̃͛̋̓͑͗͑͆̈̐̃̔͑́͌͒̚̕̕̕͘ͅǸ̷͔̘̮̝̖̹͕͔̱̥̱̻͈̻̝̮̰̘̻͝͝ͅŠ̶͎͚̩͈̲̼́̔̃̍̽̑̔̾̒̀̉̽͌̀͗͋͆͛T̴͕̯̝̭̬͉̫̯͎̣̪̣͓͂̏̑̂̔̔̋̈́̈̆͋́͆͌̈́́̆̆̕̕͜͜͝Ȩ̸̢̩͈̹̦͓͖̻̼̦͚͉̜̺̎͐̀̓͋̿̐̇͑ͅR̷̛̙̬̆͗̇̔̎̿̽̀̂̀̏̑́͊̄̀̿͆̃̕͠ It lasted only seconds, but the intensity was staggering, drilling into my psyche. A mental assault, I realized, likely another part of this trial, aiming to plant doubt or guilt."Interesting," I muttered under my breath. The moment I recognized it for what it was, I steadied my mind, letting the words wash past me. So the trial now tries to undermine my mental fortitude? With a quiet exhale, I brushed the last echoes of the whispers aside. Around me, a hush fell, as though the illusions recognized that particular tactic had failed.That hush was broken by a sudden shrill voice from across the room."Y-you monster, get out of here! Why are you in our class?!" It was Shinohara, trembling yet somehow mustering the courage to speak. Clearly, she expected others to back her up. But after a second, Horikita snapped, "Shinohara, shut up!"—her attempt at damage control was too late to prevent me from reacting.So this is it, I thought. If I had any doubts, they vanished. Considering the bloodthirsty nature of the Crimson Sage, his trial would demand bloodshed. It was going to be cruel. No matter how callous it felt, I knew what I had to do.
(WARNING - BEGIN)
I walked toward Shinohara, my expression blank. Instinctively, people around her parted; they'd seen me kill so many people already. But Ike stepped in front, arms outstretched protectively, fear plain in his eyes. "A-Ayanokoji, please stop!" he sputtered. "Satsuki... S-she didn't mean it—"Before he finished, I seized him by the neck with one hand, hoisting him off his feet, then hurled him sideways. He crashed into a desk, the edge slamming into his skull with a sickening thunk. Ike collapsed in a heap, his body flopping awkwardly on the floor. A panicked scream tore through the students."Kanji!""I-Ike!"Their cries mixed with the acrid stench of fear.Barely pausing, I turned to Shinohara. Her eyes darted from Ike's limp form to me, mouth quivering with unspoken terror. In one smooth motion, I punched her in the temple with all the strength I could muster. Her head snapped back. The light in her gaze flickered out like a candle. She slumped, consciousness—or life—extinguished in an instant.Sudo roared from behind, raw anger and confusion twisting his features. "Ayanokoji! WHY?! We... we talked this morning! We—" He charged, fists coiled. I sidestepped, letting him rush past, then drove my elbow into his face. Momentum carried him forward, and I gripped the back of his head, slamming it against another table's corner. Bone met metal with a dull, loud thud. He fell limp, blood trickling down the side of the desk.A human body is fragile. A single well-placed strike can end a life. Slips at home, diseases—humans die easily every second. Here, it was being demonstrated in the most brutal way. A single table's edge, an unexpected blow—enough to snuff out a breath. It confirmed the precariousness of life in the face of violence.Screams rocked the classroom anew."Sudo!""What... what the hell!""Ayanokoji, stop!"Voices from all corners—some wailing, some pleading.Ignoring their reactions, I shifted my attention to the next target. My gaze locked onto Soshi Miyamoto—a lesser-known classmate, one of the many who had blended into the background until now. He was pressed against the wall, trembling, his face pale with sheer terror."S-stay back!" he croaked, his voice breaking as he fumbled for something—anything—to shield himself. His desperate hands landed on a nearby chair. With a surge of adrenaline, he hurled it at me in a frantic bid to keep me away.I watched it come, my expression impassive. The moment the chair entered my range, I snatched it from the air with ease. He had meant to use it as a shield, a weapon against me. Instead, it became mine.Before he could react, I swung it. Hard.The solid metal frame smashed into his ribs with a sickening crack. A strangled gasp escaped his lips as his body crumpled against the wall, the impact leaving a deep dent in the plaster behind him. His knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the bloodstained floor, groaning weakly.A weapon was only as good as the hands that wielded it. And Soshi Miyamoto never stood a chance.Blood slicked my hand. Each kill was swift, harsh, and unstoppable. My classmates yelled, sobbed, and retched. Some tried to approach me, but the memory of what I'd done kept them paralyzed. If this was truly the test, I had no qualms. Time was short.I grabbed a blade, speeding up the cruel process.The onlooking illusions—my "friends," acquaintances—saw only a monster exterminating them, one after another. Their pleas blurred together:"Why—why are you doing this?!""He was fine just hours ago!""Kiyotaka... p-please, we can talk. Don't—!"But I shut it all out, determined to fulfill the trial's conditions. The thick, metallic tang of blood weighed on my lungs, and the dying moans punctuated each moment. With each kill, I expected the scene to flicker, to yank me back into that subterranean cavern. But it continued, forcing me further into the role of butcher.Names fell like leaves.Ryotaro Hondo, dead. Hideo Sotomura, dead. Wataru Ijuin, dead. Maezono, dead. Death after death followed. Okitani, dead. Kayano Onodera, dead. Kokokoro Inogashira, dead. Nene Mori, dead. Yukimura, one of my old friends, dead. Akito, dead. Haruka, dead as well, her wide eyes fading into emptiness.With so many people dying, some of the others realized the hopelessness of one-by-one resistance. They grouped up, grabbing whatever weapons they could find.At their head stood Hirata—the gentle, ever-empathetic classmate who typically settled disputes with words. Now, a trembling fury burned in his eyes as he braced the handle of the axe in both hands. The weight clearly strained him, but adrenaline fueled his stance. "Ayanokoji!" he shouted, his voice raw with despair. "Stop this!" He looked ready to confront me with all the conviction he could muster.He used my surname—Ayanokoji—like someone marking a boundary. Maybe he thought an appeal to reason would halt me. But I approached, blade in hand, unflinching. Realizing I wouldn't halt, he made the first move. He lunged, attempting a downward chop. But the axe was unwieldy in his inexperienced hands, and the blow came slow.I stepped in and struck, short and brutal—my blade embedding in his torso. I murmured, "I'm sorry, Yosuke." His eyes went wide, mouth open. Blood trickled down his lips, mingling with tears forming at the corners of his eyes. "W-why?" he managed before his strength failed him. In the next second, the life bled from his gaze. I eased the sword free, letting him slip to the floor with a dull thud.I cast a fleeting glance at his body. Then I turned, scanning the classroom for next targets. Koenji stepped forward next, his face grim. He'd evidently realized that even his abilities might not match mine. Still, he joined the cluster of remaining students, forming a last stand. Ryuen appeared too, excitement and fear painting his face.They converged in a frantic push, driven by survival or by a flickering hope that if enough people attacked, they might overpower me. The air sang with the clash of weapons. Some among them died swiftly the moment they left an opening. Others attempted to corner me, only to find my reflexes, overcame them.Amid the chaos, Ryuen tried a cunning approach: seeing me poised to kill another classmate, he believed he could strike from behind. But I sidestepped, reading his intentions, and rammed my sword straight through his chest. He coughed a spray of blood, then let out a strangled laugh. "Damn... never imagined this... end," he gasped, and collapsed.Koenji attempted a direct blow, hoping to exploit an opening. He was likely the strongest physically among them, but even he faltered beneath the unhesitating precision of my attacks. Before he could recover from a narrowly missed swing, I drove my sword into his chest. "Hahaha... A-Ayanokoji-boy—" he choked, trying to speak. But I had no time. Only three minutes left, my mind warned me. I twisted the blade to ensure he couldn't strike back, then yanked it free, the wet, ripping sound accompanied by Koenji's final exhalation. Blood soaked the tile in a crimson puddle."KIYOTAKA, PLEASE STOP!" Kei's shrill cry pierced the carnage, her voice raw with panic. Ignoring her own safety, she flung herself at me, arms out as though to restrain me with an embrace. Her tear-streaked face contorted in heartbreak.I froze momentarily, staring at Kei's terror-filled eyes. Something in me itched, and yet I muttered, "I'm sorry, Kei." Then, as she neared, I stretched my blade forward, plunging it into her midsection. She made a small choking sound, eyes widening in disbelief, tears mixing with blood on her lips. For an instant, it looked like she tried to say my name. But no word came, only a faint breath before her knees buckled, and she slid off the sword, collapsing.A hush quivered through the ruined classroom, thick with fear, overshadowing the reek of gore. I cast my gaze about. Bodies littered the floor in broken, twisted poses. Blood painted the walls, the desks, my clothes. Students had tried to band together—and I'd cut them down without mercy.One last glance at Kei's face, contorted in death. I closed my eyes in a slow exhale, pushing down a flicker of discomfort in my chest. The clock in my head told me I had maybe two minutes left until the police would storm. If the scene persisted, I'd have to kill them, too. I prepared myself for either possibility.I moved methodically through the battered classroom. Corpses and moaning survivors lay scattered, the stench of so much blood now almost suffocating. In the dim hush, I could hear only my own heartbeat and the dull throb of pulses from those still clinging to life. But I had precious little time, and the trial demanded that I finish.Wang Mei-Yu crouched against the wall, hands pressed over her ears and head, refusing to lift her gaze. The panic in her trembling limbs spoke volumes—she'd already surrendered to her fate. With minimal fuss, I ended her life swiftly, a quick strike that spared her any extended suffering. The faint rattle in her throat was all that marked her passing before she crumpled to the ground.Next, I turned toward Matsushita, who shivered visibly at the sight of my blood-drenched uniform. She didn't try to run; she just gazed back with hollow acceptance. "Why aren't you running?" I asked quietly, genuinely curious for a moment. Her lips curved into a bitter smile. "Would it work?" she replied, voice trembling. I sighed—this entire scenario felt more hollow each moment. Yet I drove my blade into her heart, quick and clean. Her eyes widened briefly, then she slumped motionless.My gaze fell on Kushida, now huddled behind an upended desk, her usual sunny expression replaced by stark fear. She drew a shaky breath and mustered some measure of courage. "Can I...touch you?" The request startled me, enough that I paused. In the corner of my vision, Horikita, the last surviving student aside from Kushida, also gaped, unsure what to make of it.Kushida seemed to sense my confusion but repeated softly, "Can I touch you?" A fleeting glance at the clock in my mind reminded me how little time remained. I shrugged inwardly and gave a nod, stepping closer. With trembling fingers, she brushed them over my chest, sliding her hand slowly upward until she cupped the side of my face. Perhaps she was searching for humanity in my cold stare or simply needed to confirm I was real. Satisfied, she lowered her arm, then opened both hands wide, as if welcoming the final blow. I obliged—quick, painless. Her eyes lost their light, and she toppled gently against a broken desk.Horikita, standing at the back of the room, stared at me with hollow, tear-bright eyes. She alone remained within the carnage of Class D. Her voice quivered. "Why? Why are you doing this? You saved us from those... intruders, and then you turn your blade on us. It makes no sense."I felt no impulse to justify anything, but I still responded. "I'm sorry, Horikita," I said quietly. "But there are things in this world that must be done. This is one of them."Her shoulders slumped in defeat. A faint trembling overtook her voice. "I see. Go on, then, Kiyotaka." She used my first name, a rare gesture, especially in a moment like this. I noticed the flicker of surprise in her eyes too, as if she never thought she'd utter it. This illusion was so painfully convincing.Bracing herself, she gave a slight nod. I whispered, "Sorry, Suzune," a final courtesy, and struck. My blade pierced her chest, her eyes widening for the briefest second, then dulling as her life slipped away. I lowered her carefully. My last classmate from Class D lay lifeless on the floor.Now, the entire homeroom was dead. Everyone except a few from outside the door—Amasawa, Ichinose who lay collapsed on the floor, barely conscious, and Sakayanagi—lingered out there. Inside, the only figures left standing were Nagumo, Chairman Sakayanagi, and Chabashira, who watched, paralyzed by the brutality that had just unfolded.I lifted my gaze, breath steady. One final part of the scenario, perhaps. My mind refused to relax, bracing for whatever remained.Chabashira lay slumped in the far corner of the classroom, her left leg obviously broken—a jagged fracture jutting beneath her torn slacks, every movement drawing pained gasps. The remnants of a failed intervention. She'd tried to stop me mid-carnage, only to be struck aside by flailing weapons. Now, Chairman Sakayanagi hovered near her, shell-shocked and sweating, while Nagumo attempted to help them both get out of the room. Every small shift jarred Chabashira's injury, prompting a stifled groan from her lips.Slowly, I approached, wiping away stray blood from my blade's edge. These three plus those outside the corridor remained. Some corner of my mind still counted the remaining seconds. The police might arrive soon, I thought, or the trial might shift again. Regardless, I had to finish.Chabashira's eyes lifted, dull with ache. "A-Ayanokoji..." she murmured, voice tight, as though each breath rubbed salt on her broken bone. Her face contorted in regret, not hatred. Perhaps she'd realized she was next.A sigh rumbled in my chest. I now understand why no one passes the trial by the Crimson Sage, I thought. Replaying the slaughter of illusions dressed as classmates and teachers required a measure of detachment few cultivators, real or not, could muster.She tried to speak further, but it emerged as a whimper. I stepped forward and ended her with a precise stab to the heart. Swift. Painless. She managed one last exhalation—"A...yan...o..."—and collapsed in an unceremonious heap, blood seeping onto the stained floor. Chairman Sakayanagi let out a ragged cry, near hyperventilating, clutching at his chest. Nagumo, equally pale, tried to coax the older man to his feet so they could flee, but their terror rendered them nearly immobile.I pivoted my gaze from them to the hallway. Amasawa stood there, eyes glinting with an unreadable mix of reverence and fascination. Ichinose lay half-collapsed behind her, faint or close to it, tears slipping down her cheeks. Sakayanagi lingered at the edge, arms crossed, wearing a faint expression of pity or resignation. Perhaps if I struck them next, the illusions would conclude.But it never got that far. My vision abruptly dimmed. The entire scene darkened like a flicked-off lamp. In an instant, the illusion snapped away, replaced by the familiar sight of the subterranean cavern.
(WARNING - END)
Standing near the half-buried stone idol, the Crimson Sage was half-manifested, his scarlet hair drifting around his scar-laden face. A thunderous laugh tore from his chest, echoing violently off the cave walls. "Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!" The sound was gleeful, unhinged, brimming with savage delight. The echoes cascading until eventually his mirth settled to a coarse chuckle.He locked his gaze on me with an evil grin, eyes glittering under the dim glow. "While I didn't personally see your actions, my Dao told me every detail," he said, voice low and crackling with energy. "And now... your aura has changed." A twisted glee underpinned his tone. "You still wear the same outward expression, but I can sense the difference. An intangible heaviness, or darkness, that only blooms when one truly treads the line between man and monster. You've proven yourself compatible with my Dao," he rumbled, voice resonating like thunder within the tight confines of the cave.He tilted his head, as if appraising me anew. "To think you endured that entire slaughter without crumbling." His scar twisted into a sneer. "Fascinating, mortal. Many have attempted this trial and only a few passed. Yet here you stand, not a tremor in your hands.""You have passed." He raised a scarred arm, gesturing to the idol half-buried in the rubble. "Go on. Touch the idol and receive my inheritance."I studied the Crimson Sage for a moment longer. The trial was done, or so he claimed, and only one step remained.With purposeful steps, I approached the stone idol, noting how the same malevolent aura I'd felt earlier now seemed to pulse in time with my heartbeat. I extended my hand, letting my fingertips press against the idol's rough, cold surface. A jolt rippled up my arm—like an electric surge, but softer, deeper.Immediately, a weird feeling blossomed in my core. The idol's form blurred, melting in my vision until it turned semi-translucent. Then, as though it were liquid, the idol flowed into me, sinking past my flesh and bone, navigating its way to my dantian. My chest seized for an instant, and I gasped. When it settled, I felt an odd intimate connection—like gaining a new limb I'd never had before.I pulled my hand back, eyes wide, then glanced at my abdomen, not physically seeing any change but feeling a distinct weight. If I focused, I sensed the shape of the idol resting somewhere deep within. And with a single thought, I felt I could call it forth again.Noticing my confusion, the Crimson Sage let out a short, sharp laugh. "That is your soul link with the idol," he explained, crossing his arms over his scarred chest. "It's no longer just a chunk of stone. It's bound to you—part of your dantian. If you infuse Qi into it, the idol will impart knowledge and techniques corresponding to your cultivation realm."He paused, eyes still dancing with malicious amusement. "But don't expect too much just yet. You're only at Qi Condensation. That level only grants you the basic set of arts—enough to stand above common rabble, but nowhere near the apex. Each time you ascend a realm, you'll be able to feed more advanced Qi into the idol, unlocking further secrets."I exhaled slowly, pressing my palm lightly against my navel, half-expecting to feel the idol's weight there physically. "So every breakthrough amplifies what I can learn," I said quietly, absorbing the revelation.The Crimson Sage's scar twisted with a half-smirk, half-sneer. "Precisely. My Dao is woven into that idol—my techniques, my path of slaughter, my mastery of sacrifice. You've now inherited it in its seed form. If you fail to progress or squander your potential, well, the idol's higher arts will remain locked away forever." He leaned forward, his voice dripping with challenge. "But if you do keep pushing your cultivation, you might someday wield everything I once did...and more."I nodded, still feeling the lingering buzz in my dantian, like a newly lit ember. "I see."The Crimson Sage lifted a hand to his chest as though to steady himself, scarlet hair drifting in spectral currents around him. His menacing grin remained fixed, but the brightness in his eyes flickered, like a candle nearing its end. A faint ripple of energy passed through him, hinting that this manifestation was about to fade."Well," he intoned, "now that the stone idol is bound to you, my spirit form will soon dissipate. This inheritance is, however, not complete." His voice dropped in a way that felt oddly personal. "For the higher techniques—beyond what you can currently glimpse—you'll need to collect more idols."I arched a brow, realization sparking in my gaze. "More idols?" I repeated quietly.The Crimson Sage chuckled, that mad, half-feral mirth reemerging. "Yes," he confirmed. "You see, my past self scattered multiple stone idols across various corners of the world. Each houses a shard of my Dao and legacy. You now have one... there are more." His grin showed teeth, unhinged. "If you wander near such an idol, you will sense it, because part of my essence already resides in your dantian. And so the hunt begins."His laughter grew louder, bouncing off the dank cave walls. "But beware—others could be owners of idols too. Some may have succeeded in their trials, or inherited remnants of my Dao through different methods. And the final inheritance can only belong to one cultivator. Only one can piece together my complete Dao. Meaning, those who own the idol fragments are competitors." A dangerous shimmer lit his eyes. "Once you sense another cultivator with an idol, you can guess what must happen. If you want to claim everything, you'll have to fight for it."The implications were grim: the trial extended beyond this cave, into the outside world, forcing conflict with others who bore the Crimson Sage's idols. "I see," I finally replied."Excellent." He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "Of course, you can choose to do nothing—remain content with one shard. But be aware that others can sense the idol within you and you know what that means, hahahahahaha!" He gestured dismissively with a hand. "Now, mortal, my time here wanes. The idol is yours, and my spirit will soon meld back into oblivion."Even as he spoke, his form began to flicker, patches of translucence bleeding across his limbs. At that, the cavern rumbled softly, and to my right, a gap appeared in the solid stone—a neat, rectangular outline forming a sort of door. Its edges glowed faintly with red-black Qi, like the afterimage of the Crimson Sage's aura. It slid open with a gravelly groan, revealing a narrow passage leading deeper underground.The Crimson Sage's voice echoed one final time as his figure shimmered and broke apart. "Behind that door is my last gift," he said, "or rather this cave's final reward. Take it and then step into a world that hungers for war and power. Survive... and piece together my entire inheritance!" A final cackle reverberated before his spirit scattered, dissolving into wisps of red light, which faded away after a few moments.For a moment, I stood alone in the cavern, breathing unsteadily. The walls no longer hummed with his presence—only the faint pressure of Qi lingered. My eyes flicked to the door, still open, red light spilling out from the corridor beyond.I inhaled, steeling myself. It seemed the trial continued, but differently. And somewhere beyond this cave, across unknown corners of this world, others like me carried idols, each piece of the Sage's fearsome legacy."So be it," I murmured, glancing at the dim silhouette of my own hand against the gloom. Finally, I stepped toward the newly revealed passage, bracing myself for whatever the last gift of this cavern might be, ready to continue down the path of the Crimson Sage's inheritance.
I need to get stronger to continue to survive, especially with this marking now that I have.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Stepping into the dark passage, I found the air growing heavier with each step, laden with a rich Qi unlike anything I'd experienced. The deeper I ventured, the more intense that sensation became, until my body almost vibrated with the ambient energy. By the time I neared the passage's end, it felt as though I could scoop raw Qi from the air with my bare hands.At last, I emerged into a small chamber, and the sight took my breath away: a shimmering pool, its surface glimmering with liquid Qi. I'd known that at the peak stage of Qi Condensation, Qi condensed into liquid form within a cultivator's dantian, but seeing it externally—a spiritual pool existing in the real world—was astonishing. Overhead, a tiny droplet slowly coalesced, suspended in midair as though defying gravity. It never dripped, only hovered, feeding a trickle of Qi into the pool over who knew how many centuries."So this is the final gift," I murmured, stepping closer. My instincts told me that one dip in that pool could purge every wound. A powerful healing resource—and beyond that, it was pure Qi to fuel cultivation.Without wasting time, I stripped my ruined outer robe, left only in my undershirt and pants, then eased into the pool. The moment the liquid Qi touched my skin, it surged into me, as if we were magnetically drawn. I found I didn't even need to circulate a technique as the Qi poured through my meridians on its own. My eyes drifted shut, and I sank deeper, letting the dense energy envelop me.Healing happened instantly. Every laceration, every bruise, even the leftover corruption from the elder's lethal blow—gone in a tide of warmth. Hours slipped by in a blissful haze as I fully focused on mending the deeper damage. Tissues rebuilt themselves with uncanny speed, bones re-knit seamlessly. That gaping wound in my stomach sealed shut, leaving no scar. Under normal circumstances, such injuries would take weeks or months to heal, even with valuable pills; here, it took merely one day. And still, the pool hardly diminished—barely a tenth had gone, leaving a grand reservoir.Once my body was fully healed, I began to cultivate in earnest. The Qi Condensation realm thrived on precisely this step. My mind turned inward, guiding the rushing current of liquid Qi to fill my dantian at breakneck speed. Hours passed by.Ten percent... twenty... seventy... My dantian swelled, Qi condensing at an incredible rate. Finally, one hundred percent—the culminating threshold for the fifth stage. My meridians glowed with power as I broke through the barrier separating the fourth from the fifth stage, my body thrumming with new strength.Yet the pool remained mostly untapped. I went on, Qi poured faster, surging in with heightened fervor. Sixty, seventy, eighty, ninety... then again one hundred. Another barrier shattered, propelling me into the sixth stage of Qi Condensation. The very realm that divided outer sect from inner sect disciples: a milestone normally requiring years of training. I'd ascended from the fourth stage to the sixth in scarcely a day—a miraculous feat.But the pool still stood at around one-quarter full. So I pressed on, letting the torrent continue. My mind spun as I witnessed Qi levels inside me spike upward, pushing me toward the next stage's threshold. A frantic swirl of energy bombarded my meridians, forcing me to refine it meticulously. Forty percent... fifty, sixty... My dantian felt on fire, nearing the cusp of another breakthrough, the seventh stage. That gap was far more formidable, though, and the pool's potency began to wane as I absorbed every last drop of Qi.Sixty-one... sixty-two... sixty-three... The influx slowed. My body, near saturation, couldn't force the threshold so easily. Finally, the pool's power dissipated in a rush of fading light. Opening my eyes, I found myself sitting in a bare patch of stone—the once-sparkling liquid Qi now gone.I stood slowly, testing my limbs. Strength radiated through my muscles, my meridians practically brimming with energy. Though I hadn't reached the seventh stage, the jump to the sixth stage was already astounding, transforming me from a near-novice into a peak mid-stage Qi Condensation cultivator in just over a day.Exhaling a long breath, I checked my hands—steady. No tremors. The pain or fatigue from the battles had vanished. My veins hummed with renewed life.Straightening, I cast a final look at the now-empty basin. "Truly a final gift," I whispered. Even at three-quarters exhausted, it had propelled me through two consecutive breakthroughs. The last quarter had brought me halfway through the sixth stage, rapidly approaching the seventh. With a few more resources, I might cross it soon and reach the late stage of Qi Condensation.Satisfied, I turned from the empty recess, carefully stepping away from where the droplet overhead had once dripped its dew. For the moment, I relished in the improvement. From the brink of death to the sixth stage, all in under two days. My future had indeed shifted. Clenching my fist, I felt Qi swirl along my arm in a tangible rush.I curled my fingers into a fist, feeling the pulse of newly gained power resonate through my bones. My Qi pool had swelled—at least tripled—in volume, each breath saturating my meridians with energy that thrummed in time with my heartbeat. I let out a slow breath, savoring the moment. Even if the Foundation Establishment elder remained out of reach for now, I sensed that the rest of his squad—the very ones I had once needed cunning and stealth to dispatch—would be no match for my current strength in direct combat.But this was only the beginning. Resting a palm lightly over my abdomen, I recalled the Crimson Sage's words about the stone idol now nestled in my dantian. What secrets do you hold? I began circulating Qi inward, directing it toward the idol. No sooner had I done so than a wave of ancient, bloodthirsty aura coursed into my mind, accompanied by a voice filled with raw malice.
"Power is not given—it is taken. True strength requires sacrifice, not just from yourself but from the world around you."
The words shimmered in my consciousness, dripping with bloodlust and a sense of ominous darkness. I repeated them quietly: "Power is not given, it is taken..." Understanding dawned. This was the core philosophy—the Dao—of the Crimson Sage's inheritance. An endless pursuit of power through sacrificial means. As I contemplated it, information flooded my mind—visions and text that imprinted themselves directly into my memory, bypassing the need for scrolls or manuals. I found myself instantly grasping the core concepts of two specific techniques, the knowledge slotting into place with crystal clarity.Two distinct techniques took shape there, directly imprinting themselves into my memory without the usual step of studying a slip or a manual. I still knew I would need refinement to wield them safely, but the baseline understanding was already laid out, as though injected straight into my thoughts.The first technique was called the Crimson Sacrifice Method, a forbidden art that transforms the user's physical pain and injuries into raw power. It demanded self-inflicted harm—only suffering caused by one's own hand would trigger its effects, not wounds received from external sources. The deeper the voluntary pain, the more substantial the surge in strength, speed, and Qi output. My mind showed me four distinct levels, each more brutal than the last.The initial stage was Scarlet Ripple, activated by a minor self-inflicted injury such as a shallow cut, just enough to draw a small amount of blood. This would spark a quick ripple of force, raising the user's strength and speed by around ten to twenty percent for a short time.Next came Crimson Surge, requiring deeper wounds or even the breaking of bones by one's own hand. This state amplified strength and agility by fifty percent, and Qi-based attacks gained a vicious, blood-tinged energy that made them deadlier.Then there was Bloodfire Ascension, demanding truly severe acts such as slashing vital areas or fracturing multiple bones. That agony would propel the user's Qi into a blazing, crimson-colored flame, setting enemies ablaze while amplifying the user's physical form by at least one hundred percent.Finally came Sacrificial Wrath, the pinnacle of desperation, which necessitated a life-threatening injury like amputating a limb or nearly killing oneself. That stage allowed the cultivator to briefly contend with opponents several realms above their own level, though unlike the lesser stages that mostly caused pain or fatigue, Sacrificial Wrath promised dire consequences such as organ failure, extreme Qi deviation, or other permanent damage.The other technique was called the Crimson Reaver Method, and it was every bit as forbidden as the Crimson Sacrifice Method.Whereas the Crimson Sacrifice Method took one's own agony and molded it into strength, the Reaver Method turned an enemy's life force into a catalyst for power."This is an entire cultivation method," I found myself musing. "And it also promotes the user to kill." The essence of the Crimson Reaver Method was murder, plain and simple: take the blood essence from another, refine it into potent Qi, and permanently strengthen your body and cultivation base. Each death at one's hands could become a stepping stone toward greater power, and the stronger the opponent, the more exponential the benefits. But that was also the risk—devouring blood Qi beyond one's capacity could result in devastating backlash.The Crimson Reaver Method demanded that one refine the blood of enemies into a sort of "blood qi," which could then integrate into one's existing cultivation. The user's body and Qi pool would grow in tandem, fueled by the stolen vitality. With mastery, this process led to the formation of a blood core, called Crimson Core, a crystallized reservoir of condensed blood Qi within the practitioner's body. That reservoir would offer dramatically increased stamina, letting the cultivator fight longer and harder than most.Aside from that, there were also accompanying techniques with this cultivation technique. Blood Reaping Strike would allow me to deliver a decisive blow to a still-living foe, absorbing its blood essence even before death.Sanguine Devour, meanwhile, would harvest blood from any and all fallen enemies in a broad radius, absorbing it into the user to be refined into pure Qi.Crimson Core Formation represented the apex of advanced usage—concentrating all that stolen vitality into a single spot, which would then form the Crimson Core, a crimson-hued orb in the dantian, a secondary Qi source that could be tapped at will.Then there was Scarlet Empowerment, a short-term surge of speed, resilience, and raw strength fueled by burning the blood Qi stored in the core.And finally the Blood Tide Domain. This technique creates a domain filled with a dense, oppressive aura of blood. Enemies within the domain have their Qi suppressed, while the practitioner's blood qi surges, greatly enhancing their combat power.Finally, there were also stages of mastery within this cultivation technique. The Scarlet Initiate stage, which I would begin at, allowed me to simply absorb blood Qi from those I killed.Once I formed a genuine Crimson Core, I'd rise to the Crimson Ascendant stage, where my capacity to store blood Qi would become far more formidable.Eventually, mastering the backlash from heavy absorption and unlocking the Blood Tide Domain would place me at the Blood Sovereign stage.And at the very top, the Reaver Monarch stage. At this stage, one has absolute mastery over the Crimson Reaver Method. There, one could forge multiple Blood Cores, layering them like engines of unstoppable might, and wield a Blood Tide Domain as a weapon that could snuff out entire armies.My thoughts were still aflame with detail, leaving me reeling and breathless. Two monstrous arts—one that weaponized my own blood and pain, and another that weaponized the blood of my foes. Both undeniably sinister, both sinfully powerful.In my head, the earlier words of the Crimson Sage seemed to resonate: power is not given—it is taken. Now I understood that truth in two ways—through sacrificing myself and through sacrificing others. Two paths that encouraged the way of blood, either turning my own injuries into fuel or devouring the life force of those I slew. It felt more than a little dangerous, a dual-edged sword that could lead me down a path of endless bloodshed if I wasn't careful.Strength was essential in the cultivation world. Closing my eyes, I let out a slow breath, trying to calm the whirlwind inside. These two techniques I had gained felt like cheats, and I suspected they would remain potent even beyond the Qi Condensation realm. If this was merely a glimpse of what I could acquire, what unimaginable gains awaited me at Foundation Establishment and beyond? But I set those thoughts aside for now and headed toward the passage that, this time, led upward.I wasn't sure how long I'd spent in this cave—between my bouts of unconsciousness, the trial, and the cultivation session. But the transformations I'd undergone were staggering. Even if the Nightshade Monastery boasted potent manuals of its own, I couldn't shake the feeling that what I'd just acquired outstripped their standard offerings. More than that, these two techniques would grow alongside me instead of slipping into obsolescence the way simpler ones like Shadow Infusion or Silent Fang might.Making my way along the corridor, I reached its end and paused at what seemed a dead end of solid stone. As I drew nearer, the rock shimmered briefly, forming a door that slid aside. Beyond it lay the slope of the small hill where I had almost lost my life—the spot outside where I'd been trapped. The door snapped shut the moment I stepped into the light.No sooner had I emerged than a tremendous aura locked onto me, but one I recognized at once—Elder Sun Min. I tensed for a heartbeat, but his silhouette appeared almost instantly, drifting down with the grace of a high-level cultivator. His long purple hair rippled in the breeze, and I recalled that day he had guided me to the Nightshade Monastery."Kid, are you oka—" he began, tone worried. But the instant his Qi scanned me, he froze mid-sentence, eyes going wide. Then, to my surprise, a booming laughter erupted from his chest."Bahahahahahah! This is unbelievable!" he managed after a long moment of mirth. "Not only have you fully recovered, but you've jumped to the sixth stage of Qi Condensation?" Another laugh shook his shoulders. "In less than two months, from mortal to sixth stage—by the heavens, you're turning logic on its head."I silently reflected. Two months at the Monastery, plus two more since I'd first arrived in this world. Four months total, and I had already reached the sixth stage of Qi Condensation. Progress that would be considered monstrous yet here I am still nothing more than a fledgling, a mere speck at the bottom of the cultivation ladder.Back on Earth, I was blind to the vastness of the universe. I had believed in the limitations of physics and in the unshakable laws that governed reality. The idea that there were worlds beyond our own—places where men wielded power capable of shattering mountains and tearing the heavens apart—had never even crossed my mind. And yet, here I stood, a living testament to my past ignorance.But even now, even after all I had experienced, I knew next to nothing about this world. I understood its surface, its basic structures, but the true depths of its power remained a mystery. If Qi Condensation was merely the first step, then what lay beyond? How vast was the road ahead? What unfathomable forces lurked in the higher realms, their strength beyond my current comprehension? The unknown stretched before me like an unpainted canvas, an infinite expanse of mysteries waiting to be uncovered. And I would uncover them. My curiosity—no, my very nature—demanded it.And yet, there was another mystery that lingered in my mind.If I were to add the time I had spent drifting through space before my arrival, it would have been five and a half years since my time at ANHS had come to an abrupt halt. But in this universe, in this world where Qi bent the very fabric of existence, how did time truly flow?Time was relative. That much I understood. But here, it could very well be something else entirely. Was a moment in this realm equivalent to decades on Earth? Centuries? Or was it the opposite—was my absence nothing more than a fleeting breath in the grand scheme of time?I had no way of knowing. No way of measuring.For all I knew, ANHS had already crumbled to dust, its students mere whispers in history, long since passed into oblivion while I remained unchanged. Or perhaps, should I ever return, I would find everything exactly as I had left it, as if I had never disappeared at all.It was a paradox I had no means to resolve. But in the end, it didn't matter.Here, only strength dictated reality. And so, no matter how much I pondered the nature of time, it would not change my path. The past was nothing more than an echo. The future remained uncertain.And the only truth that mattered was the one I would carve for myself.My thoughts were interrupted as Sun Min eased his laughter into a broad grin, his sharp gaze never leaving me. He stepped closer, the weight of his presence pressing against the air."Not to mention," he continued, amusement laced in his voice, "only a week ago, when you sounded that alarm, I rushed over—only to find an entire squad dead. All but you." He tilted his head slightly, his eyes gleaming with intrigue. "I won't applaud your choice of letting your sect mates fend for themselves, but I suppose it was the only option. And in the end, you finished the job yourself. Alone. Still breathing despite it all."He let out a short chuckle, shaking his head. "I have no words."He glanced at the ground where the hidden cavern entrance had sealed itself. "I saw how that puny cultivator from Bloodmoon escaped, but I expected you wouldn't. When I discovered you were gone, I roamed this entire area, searching for an opening into that hill. Found none. I won't pry into whatever fortune you stumbled upon. Your secrets are your own, and I've no right to demand them. But if you've truly grown so strong... well, let's just say this elder is pleased you've emerged intact.""Thank you, Elder," I said quietly, bowing my head in a gesture of respect. Part of me was surprised at his discretion; many cultivators would have pried relentlessly or even tried to kill me on the spot for a chance at my good fortune. But Sun Min seemed genuinely content that I'd made such startling progress, and I welcomed that rare tolerance.He nodded in acknowledgment, then I asked, "Elder, you already know which sect the enemies belonged to?"Sun Min's wide grin flashed. "Indeed," he said, folding his arms. "I alerted the Monastery the moment I discovered the massacre. They'll be packing up any hour now, about to flee the Nocturnis Vale since they failed so spectacularly—especially after you sounded that alarm and forced their hand."He paused, his expression turning feral. A potent and bloodthirsty aura surged around him, changing his vibe from warm to deadly in a heartbeat. "Kid, let me bring you to kill," he said, voice brimming with malicious amusement. Before I could reply, I felt an invisible current of Qi latch onto me. Suddenly, we were airborne, shooting forward at breakneck speed. Even with my new cultivation, I couldn't fully grasp how he moved so fast. The world blurred beneath us, terrain and trees rushing by in a matter of heartbeats.Within a frighteningly short span, Sun Min began to slow. The wind stilled around us as he descended toward an area where I glimpsed countless cultivators, forming an ironclad net around a smaller encampment. The camp's banner—a large piece of battered cloth dyed crimson—flaunted the symbol of a dripping moon. Bloodmoon Dynasty. This was the sect that had attacked us during our mission, and now they were cornered by Nightshade Monastery forces.We hovered briefly before drifting to the ground, where a circle of uniformed disciples stood poised to strike. Thick tension colored the air, anticipating bloodshed at any moment.Sun Min guided us toward a beautiful young woman in a pale green robe, her posture regal, her long hair swaying in the breeze. I recognized her immediately as the woman I'd once spotted outside the Hall of Resonance, the one with a guqin in her lap and an icy aura that matched her beauty. She exuded a power weaker than Sun Min but still a force to be reckoned.Seeing us approach, she cast a quick, evaluating glance in my direction, as if noting my changed cultivation, and turned to Sun Min without remarking on it. In the next instant, we were fully landed, dust settling around our feet. All around, Nightshade disciples braced themselves, waiting for the command to strike. The Bloodmoon Dynasty's ragged defenders loitered behind a barricade, ready to make a final, desperate stand.She greeted Sun Min with a respectful bow, which he returned in kind. "Elder Zhou Zhiqiu, are the students ready?" he asked, voice thrumming with anticipation."Yes," she answered calmly. "We are ready at your command.""Perfect. I'll be observing from here," Sun Min said, stepping aside. "You have the lead."The woman, who I now knew was called Zhou Zhiqiu, nodded, turning to address the assembled cultivators of the Nightshade Monastery. Her clear, measured voice cut through the tension:"Disciples of Nightshade Monastery, heed me! The Bloodmoon Dynasty has stained the soil of our domain with our blood. They dared to kill our disciples, challenge our authority, and plan a rebellion! Let us repay their actions with steel and flame. Show them that our unity and our sect are unrivaled."On this day, spare none who draw arms against us. Seize their stronghold and leave no path for them to flee. Under the mandate of the Nightshade Monastery, I order you—crush the Bloodmoon Dynasty in one final blow. Go forth, and let none escape!"At her words, the Nightshade cultivators broke into motion. A hush of adrenaline preceded the thunderous rush, weapons raised, Qi flaring as they poured into the besieged sect's territory. In moments, the defensive perimeter erected by the Bloodmoon Dynasty cracked under the assault. The outnumbered and outclassed defenders gave ground, panic spreading among their ranks.Leading the charge at the forefront was Zhou Zhiqiu herself, her robes billowing in the sudden gusts of spiritual energy. Her gaze locked onto a man with long black hair and faint streaks of gray—clearly the Bloodmoon sect leader. Huddled around him were a handful of frightened subordinates, but their eyes flicked nervously at the overwhelming might of our forces.I also spotted the elder, who had nearly ended my life days before, lurking near the rear with terror painted across his face. He knew, as well as anyone, how dire their situation was.Zhou Zhiqiu then lifted her arms in a serene but lethal gesture. A swirling storm of chill Qi answered her call, the temperature dropping abruptly. Snow and shards of razor-sharp ice spun in a roiling tempest behind her. Without warning, she unleashed a barrage of ice shards at the Bloodmoon sect leader, forcing him to erect a crimson barrier in defense—a wicked glow pulsing from within, shaped by ghastly faces twisting in the magical shield.But her assault was relentless. The barrier fractured under repeated impacts, and finally the sect leader leapt aside, narrowly dodging the barrage of attacks. He grunted as two shards slammed into him—a deep wound in the shoulder and another puncturing his knee. Around him, some of Zhou Zhiqiu's attacks missed their mark and skewered Bloodmoon disciples instead, prompting horrific screams and the inevitable stillness of final moments. Twenty disciples instantly perished.Realizing he was moments from defeat, the man bit his tongue, spitting forth his blood essence to conjure an immense, demonic skull. The air trembled with dark Qi. Nightshade cultivators instinctively retreated a step. Yet Zhou Zhiqiu remained unmoved, her expression composed.She channeled a second wave of intense cold into the air, summoning a colossal phoenix of ice. Over a hundred meters in wingspan, the mystical bird dove straight for the skull. Upon impact, the skull cracked, half of it freezing solid. A second strike from the icy phoenix shattered the frozen remains like glass.Next, it opened its enormous maw and unleashed a focused beam of frost toward the sect leader. Caught off-guard and already wounded, the man failed to fully dodge. The blast of cold energy carved a lethal hole in his chest. He gasped, staggering backward, his eyes filled with desperate fury and terror."Help me, Ancestor!" he shrieked, his voice rasping with agony.His plea summoned a fierce aura that practically shook the battlefield, and from the crowd emerged a wrinkled old man who appeared in his sixties. He radiated an oppressive might much stronger than Zhou Zhiqiu's, though as soon as he locked his aura onto her, Elder Sun Min let out a sharp "Hmph!" and exerted his own. At that moment, it became clear who was stronger. The old man's eyes flickered, recognizing he was overshadowed by Sun Min's ferocious Qi.While the two engaged in this tense aura standoff, I quietly decided it was time to test out my new techniques. Slipping away, I moved to the edge of the battlefield, where smaller skirmishes and attempts at flight were happening. Spotting an eighth-stage Qi Condensation cultivator trying to escape, I took the initiative.He noticed me and sneered, contempt contorting his features. "A measly sixth-stage disciple thinks he can kill me? Even if you're part of the Mona—" He never finished. I burst forward, accelerating suddenly, plunging my arm forward in a spearing motion that caved into his chest. My hand closed around his heart—already half-destroyed from the violent impact—and crushed it in one savage grip. His attempt at a gasp became a final, silent exhalation.I activated the Crimson Reaver Method. A surge of red-tinted Qi rippled through my meridians as I drew in his blood essence, guiding it into my dantian. I refined that blood energy into fresh Qi and raw strength. My body crackled with newly absorbed force, my Qi pool edging closer to full capacity."This technique is dangerously addictive," I mused, feeling the temptation to kill more simply to experience the sweet rush of augmentation. "But if I'm going to master it, now is the best time."I scanned the battlefield. Many were locked in pitched combat, but a few Bloodmoon disciples had broken off, clearly hoping to slip away unnoticed. I only targeted the ones fleeing, unwilling to draw the attention of my fellow sect members to what I was doing.Multiple enemies fell in quick succession, each providing another harsh burst of Qi essence:"How...?!" croaked one as I pierced his throat with an arcing slash of my hand, draining his life in the same heartbeat.71%"I-I surrender—!" choked another just before I silenced him with a precise thrust to the heart, devouring his blood Qi.72%"You can't—this is impo—" sputtered a third, eyes glazed with terror as I shattered his ribcage, drawing out his essence in the same fluid motion.74%Each kill ratcheted my Qi pool higher, an undeniable wave of power swelling in my core....76%... 80%... 84%... 86%...Amid that violent chaos, a furious shriek broke above the din. I glanced back in time to see Zhou Zhiqiu, now free from the old man's interference, plunging a massive ice pillar through the Bloodmoon sect master's wounded torso. His life ebbed away, blood surged onto the ground in a wide crimson pool. A shimmering core spun in the air before cracking into shards, undone by her final blow."Huh, is this the core of a Core Formation cultivator?" I thought, amazed by seeing this core crumble apart.At the same moment Zhou Zhiqiu delivered her final, icy judgment upon the Bloodmoon sect master, Elder Sun Min turned his attention to the old man on the opposite flank—the ancestor of the Bloodmoon Dynasty. But seeing his forces routed, and his fellow members cut down, that old man's bravado crumbled. With desperation etched into his every feature, he flailed his arms as he faced Sun Min's deadly approach."W-wait, stop!" he shrieked, his voice raw with panic. "Let us resolve everything peacefully, please!"Sun Min's response came first as a short bark of laughter, then quieted into an iron-edged calm. "You killed our disciples," he said, each syllable tinged with menace. "You tried to murder our best talent, and then schemed to overthrow the Nightshade Monastery. Yet now you dare beg for mercy?" He raised a brow, unamused. "Everything exists in this world, but not medicine for regret."The instant he uttered those words, the very atmosphere in Nocturnis Vale shifted, plunging into a suffocating darkness. Though twilight already cloaked the land, this was something altogether deeper—like a cloak of starless night descending. Eldritch whispers seemed to ripple through the air.A scream tore through the hush, snapping my attention over to the old man. In the murky gloom, his aura thrashed about wildly, but all I could see of his physical form was a vague silhouette, consumed from the edges inward. His skin peeled away in strips, revealing muscle and tissue that then disintegrated into black motes. Organs and bones evaporated in turn, and from his gaping mouth came a final chorus of screams.I stood transfixed, unable to look away from the brutal scene in front of me. A minuscule figure, resembling the old man—a chibi version of himself—tore itself free, trying to flee. But Sun Min's darkness devoured that too before it could fly a dozen meters."Please, senior, have mercy!" the old man howled, his voice cracking into raw terror. "You know how hard it is to reach the Nascent Soul realm. Let us resolve—ghh—" He never finished. Sun Min's technique continued unabated, scattering the little spirit until it vanished completely, leaving no trace. In his last breath, I heard the old man spitting curses: "I curse your bloodline and your sect! Let your lineage rot in—" and then that, too, was gone.A single exhalation slipped from my lips. The old man had once been a formidable, Nascent Soul cultivator—yet he stood no chance whatsoever before Elder Sun Min. That black aura, some advanced technique beyond my comprehension, snuffed him out in moments. A slight shudder ran through my spine at the stark difference of power I witnessed: two Nascent Soul experts, but clearly worlds apart in strength.I glanced at Zhou Zhiqiu, who inclined her head in approval at Sun Min's decisive move, her frosty expression unchanging. The battlefield around us began settling into grim silence as the Bloodmoon Dynasty's resistance crumbled. And I... I could only stand amazed at the spectacle, a reminder of how vast the gap was between my newly gained strength and the heights of an elder like Sun Min.Just then, in that moment of amazement, I spotted the elder who had nearly killed me days ago. He was a Foundation Establishment cultivator, but now he staggered with deep wounds, desperate for an escape. No one else pursued him, as everyone was still entranced by what they saw just moments ago.The edges were, of course, manned by other sect members, but there was a chance he'd try to break through. "This is my opportunity," I thought. Without pause, I darted after him, Qi thrumming with anticipation. I couldn't ignore such a chance to feed the Crimson Reaver Method another chunk of potent life force, especially one of a Foundation Establishment cultivation.I quickly closed in on the wounded elder, my Qi thrumming, though he noticed my approach immediately—at the Foundation Establishment realm, his senses were sharp. For a moment, as we locked eyes, I glimpsed terror and frustration still fresh in his features. Yet as he registered who I was, something like relief flickered, followed by hot anger. A raw laugh burst from his throat, filled with bitterness and murderous intent."It's you, damn brat!" he snarled, his voice raw with hatred. "Because of you, we lost the inheritance, and because of you, my sect is being wiped out!" Hatred seethed in his tone. Despite his injuries, he raised his arm, Qi crackling at his palm. "And yet you stand here, not just healed but jumping two entire stages in mere days? Do you think that's enough to kill me?"He gathered his breath, aura swelling, his voice snapping with fury. "Naive brat! As you don't know the immensity of heaven and earth, I will teach you a final lesson, you damned brat with an unchanging face! I will kill—"Before he could finish spewing threats, I thrust my hand inward—into my own chest. My fingers drove just past muscle and bone, narrowly avoiding vital organs. Blood erupted, spattering my clothes and the ground at our feet. A wave of agony shot through me, but my face remained impassive as I met his wide-eyed stare. All his wrath and scorn momentarily dissolved into stunned confusion."What... the hell are you doing?!" he choked out. He watched in utter disbelief as I yanked my bloodied hand free, droplets of crimson splattering. It made no sense to him. For me, however, it was the precise trigger I needed.Searing pain throbbed at my chest, but I willed it into the flow of Qi, activating the Crimson Sacrifice Method. Due to the severity of the injury, the third stage, Bloodfire Ascension, activated. I had no inclination to test lower tiers first. Instantly, a jolt tore through my meridians, as if raw, scorching energy erupted from the wound. My Qi surged, doubling in strength in a breath's time.A deep crimson glow burst from every pore of my body, swirling around me like a violent blaze. Runes of blood-red light shimmered across my skin, and a portion of my hair tinted with the same savage hue. The aura I emitted was no longer the subdued presence of a sixth-stage Qi Condensation disciple—it glowed tangibly, thrashing in the air as a fierce, roiling current.The elder's disbelief deepened. He stumbled back, eyes darting between my still-bleeding chest and the terrifying red aura that now engulfed me. "What are you...?" His words came choked, all bravado gone. The sight of me deliberately tearing into my own flesh rattled him beyond measure.Each breath set my wound burning, but it fueled the technique further. Flames of scarlet Qi licked around my limbs, as if they couldn't wait to devour everything in my path. The elder tried to gather his Qi in defense, but my newly unleashed might gave me an edge he hadn't foreseen. I could see in his eyes how he understood that I was no longer a helpless lamb, no easy prey.He snarled, attempting one last posture of defiance. "You're insane! Do you truly think—"I didn't let him finish. Pushing off with my newly doubled strength, I launched forward. The sensation was exhilarating—like stepping into a higher realm temporarily, my muscles coiling with raw force. The elder raised his arms to block, conjuring a shield of desperate Qi, but my blade of crimson energy sheared right through. Sparks of red flared where our powers clashed, sending shockwaves rippling across the dusty ground.He coughed blood as my slash tore into his shoulder, nearly severing it. Wobbling, he lashed out with a frantic retaliation, yet I sidestepped easily. Another strike plunged into his waist, causing him to collapse onto one knee, face white with pain.The elder, forced to his knees, let out a guttural snarl. His eyes flashed, and a sudden cascade of crimson Qi radiated from his uninjured hand. In an instant, a pulsing blood orb coalesced in his palm, swirling with dark flecks of malevolence. He flung it at me with surprising vigor, the sphere arcing through the air and expanding to the size of a man's torso before crashing down. I barely had time to brace.I leapt aside, letting the orb smash into the rocky ground where I'd stood a blink before. Red splatter and wicked Qi clung to the earth, sizzling dangerously. He grimaced, pulling himself upright while his shoulder bled profusely. It was clear he was on the ropes, but the rage in his gaze refused to subside.A hush, then he sprang up, blood Qi swirling around both arms now. "Damn you!" he hissed, voice ragged. "I'll tear you apart!" He streaked forward, unleashing a barrage of quick slashes through the air that each manifested as crimson blades—they streaked toward me, howling with evil intent. My newly doubled agility helped me weave between them, though the flaring pain in my chest from my wound throbbed sharply.Still, the Bloodfire Ascension bolstered me. Flames of scarlet Qi licked around my limbs. With a pulse of Qi, I kicked off the ground, delivering a fierce upward strike to his unprotected flank. He gagged at the impact, his ribs cracking audibly as I hammered him. The blow catapulted him a dozen meters upward, spinning helplessly in the sky above the battlefield.Sensing my chance, I conjured a swift Qi projectile and hurled it. As expected, his eyes widened; the old man twisted midair, dodging to the side with a burst of frantic flight. He thought he'd outmaneuvered me. But the real trap was already set.Cloaking my speed behind the swirling blood aura, I shot upward in a sudden leap. Ten meters—enough distance to meet him in the air. Hurtling up behind him, I predicted precisely where he'd move, the Bloodfire Ascension lending me explosive agility. His eyes flicked in shock at my approach, but he was too late."Crimson Reaver—Blood Reaping Strike!" I unleashed the technique, letting a brutal surge of Qi channel into my arm. My hand, wreathed in a swirling red aura, slammed into his back with enough force to puncture flesh and even some of his vertebrae. Blood sprayed out in all directions, and a choked, wet scream tore from his lips. The shock of my blow carved a ragged hole clean through his torso.Wasting no time, I activated the absorbing aspect of the Crimson Reaver Method, devouring the blood essence that spilled from him. My dantian roared with new energy; each pulse of life force absorbed from this Foundation Establishment elder gave me a rush of strength.87%...89%...91%...92%...But before I could finish, he twisted in a final act of desperation, focusing his remaining Qi into a single, point-blank strike. A scarlet wave erupted from his left hand and slammed into my midsection. The impact flung me downward, the ground rushing up too fast to brace. I crashed with a sickening crunch, pain lancing through my body. Several bones snapped, and I gasped, spitting out a mouthful of hot blood.No advantage gleaned from the Crimson Sacrifice Method would help here—this injury wasn't self-inflicted. I tasted iron, blinking dazedly at the swirling sky overhead. Gritting my teeth, I forced my battered legs to respond. The scorching aura around me still lingered, but I felt it waning, the backlash gnawing at my body as my wound continued to bleed.With a ragged exhalation, I shoved myself onto one knee, ignoring the spasms in my ribs. Blood dripped from my lips, and for a moment, the world spun. Still, I refused to collapse. Through blurred vision, I made out the elder's form above—his torso mangled, Qi flickering feebly, but still alive. For now.Dragging in another breath, I forced my battered body upward, bracing for whatever came next. My chest stung as if aflame, but the hunger of the Crimson Reaver pushed me on.The elder's gaze landed on me, a triumphant sneer twisting his features as he noticed the crimson blaze dimming around my body. "Hah... You fool," he coughed, eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction. "Every great technique exacts a price, and now that your borrowed power dwindles, you'll die a dog's death." A barking laugh left him—hoarse and ragged, cut short by the pain of his own injuries.He spat a curse under his breath, but his words only steeled my resolve. I straightened, my breath unsteady, yet I kept my eyes locked on him. In one swift motion, I broke my own left shoulder with a sharp snap. Agony shot through my arm, but that same instant, the waning aura around me flared anew, crimson tendrils swirling and intensifying beyond their earlier peak. The elder's grin faltered."You said what?" I asked, my tone cold and my gaze unblinking. The blood-soaked Qi raged around me, fueled by my deliberate injury."Y-you—" His voice broke, raw hatred mingling with confusion and horror. He staggered, his expression twisted by fury, but his once-fearsome aura was now weak and tattered.I lunged forward, letting my newly magnified strength guide each attack. He tried to defend, but battered as he was, he managed only a feeble show of resistance. One vicious punch slammed him into a half-collapsed wall, and a follow-up kick sent him tumbling through the air like a ragdoll. Another blow drove him face-first into the hard earth. Finally, with a desperate attempt to break his fall through Qi flight, he failed, smashing shoulder-first into a massive boulder. Stone splintered under the impact, and he slumped, chest heaving, arms trembling as he tried to push himself upright.His body gave out. His spine, I sensed through my Qi, was severed beyond repair. Strangled whimpers escaped him, eyes wide with panic as he realized he could no longer feel his limbs. I felt the last sparks of my heightened power begin to fade. My aura's scarlet glow flickered, retreating into me as I deactivated the Crimson Sacrifice Method. My skin and hair, which had taken on that eerie red hue, now faded back to normal, each breath laden with exhaustion and lingering pain from the injuries I'd inflicted upon myself.I stood there amid the dust and debris, panting. Blood still dripped down my chest; that was the nature of the Crimson Sage's inheritance, a savage pact of pain and power.I stepped toward him, my breathing ragged but unwavering, each footfall echoing in the hush of the battlefield's fringes. Terror surged in his eyes as he realized I had no intention of sparing him. He tried to speak, but a raw, grating sound was all that emerged at first. Finally, in a trembling rasp, he spat, "You... monstrous... fanatic. A mere child... how can you have this power? How can you be so ruthless...?"His voice cracked under the weight of despair and fury. I met his gaze impassively, not bothering to respond. My hand, still slick with crimson from the wound in my chest, lifted once more. I focused inward, calling on the technique from the Crimson Reaver Method, the Blood Reaping Strike. He saw the shift in my aura, the swirl of menacing red light converging around my palm, and fear flared in his face."No... no, please—" he gasped. He was at my mercy, and ironically, the same man who had tried to end my life only days ago now pleaded for his own. His bravado collapsed, replaced by begging and pleading. But I felt no pity. I took no pleasure in his pain. This was simply the path I had chosen.I struck. My palm slammed against his torn chest, the blow rattling his broken frame. The Blood Reaping Strike carved through layers of muscle and bone, allowing me to absorb his blood essence directly. A rush of vital energy jolted into my dantian—heady, intense, and brimming with power. My Qi soared in a dizzying surge.93%...95%...98%...99%...Then, with a final shudder, he went limp, his eyes losing their light as his remaining blood essence flowed into me and was refined into blood Qi.100%...
Boom
A resonant sound echoed from deep within my dantian, reverberating throughout my meridians. My entire body jerked, and for an instant, the world seemed to contract around that single thrum of power. The sensation exploded, and I felt the invisible barrier snapping apart.I had broken through to the seventh stage of Qi Condensation. I staggered a step, suppressing a flood of new Qi that rushed through my meridians, almost overwhelming my senses. It was as though my body had suddenly found a hidden reservoir of energy and was determined to test its limits.I exhaled softly, releasing his corpse to slump against the cracked earth. Blood dripped from my wounds and spattered my legs, and I stood over him for a moment.Steadying myself, I pressed a hand to my abdomen, feeling the hum of my newly expanded cultivation. That final intake of essence from the dying elder had driven me past the threshold. My wound still throbbed, and blood stained my clothes, yet there was an electric sense of euphoria underlining the pain. Every fiber of me now burned with a potency that surpassed my former self.The elder's corpse lay sprawled and motionless before me, the hollowed shell of a man whose Qi now resided in my meridians. The battlefield around us still raged—blood and chaos echoing through the air—but in this small pocket of devastation, for a moment, it was just me, breathing hard after achieving another breakthrough.That warm rush cooled abruptly when I felt two unmistakably powerful auras descend behind me.Turning, I found Elder Sun Min and Elder Zhou Zhiqiu standing close by, gazes flicking between my blood-spattered figure and the crumpled remains of the Foundation Establishment elder at my feet. An awkward silence clung to the air."...""...""Greetings, Elder Sun Min, Elder Zhou Zhiqiu," I managed, offering a slight bow with my battered appearance."...""..."