Han Long moved swiftly through the dense wilderness, his Jade Pendant glowing faintly as it guided him forward. His breath was steady, his focus sharp—this was a rare opportunity, one that few cultivators could even dream of.
He was on a quest for the Twilight Spirit Bloom, a mystical flower that bloomed once every five hundred years beneath the setting sun during a three stars alignment. It was said to contain the lingering essence of ancient immortals, a crystallization of divine energy woven into its delicate petals.
As Han neared his destination, he could sense the shift in the air. The very atmosphere hummed with power, an ethereal pulse of Qi that harmonized with the flow of nature itself. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced.
The pendant pulsed rapidly, indicating he was close.
Before him, a towering waterfall cascaded into an abyss, the deafening roar of water crashing against the rocks below. Han narrowed his eyes—the flower was somewhere beneath.
Without hesitation, he leaped.
Han landed gracefully at the bottom of the abyss, his eyes locked onto a faint glow in the distance. There, surrounded by moss-covered ruins, lay the Twilight Spirit Bloom.
Its five petals resembled fragments of dusk itself—fading from deep violet to shimmering silver at the tips, capturing the final embers of daylight. Golden veins ran through each petal, like streaks of lightning frozen in time. At its center, a soft ember-like light pulsed rhythmically, in harmony with the heavens above.
This was it. The legendary flower.
Han approached cautiously, but just as he reached out—
A deep growl rumbled through the air.
From the darkness, a colossal beast emerged, its eyes gleaming with an otherworldly light. It was the Guardian Beast of Twilight, a creature bound by ancient forces to protect the sacred bloom. Its form was like a shadow forged from dusk, its fur glistening like the night sky. Sharp fangs dripped with celestial energy, and its claws looked sharp enough to cleave stone with a single swipe.
Han exhaled sharply, unfazed.
This was not his first time fighting a guardian beast.
The beast lunged first, its massive claws ripping through the air, aiming to tear Han apart. But it was not just a creature of raw strength—its body flickered like a mirage, shifting between solid and spectral. Han's instincts screamed a warning as an unseen force struck his mind—a spiritual attack.
Han's vision wavered for a split second, a sharp pressure stabbing into his consciousness. The beast's spiritual Qi was trying to overwhelm his mind, distorting reality around him. He bit down on his tongue, using the pain to anchor himself before countering with Iron Crushing Fist, his strike colliding with the beast's claw, sending out a shockwave that shattered nearby stones.
The beast roared, its body momentarily vanishing into the shadows. Then, from multiple directions at once, it unleashed Eclipsing Phantom Claws, a technique that manifested spectral slashes through the air. Han barely managed to evade, twisting mid-step as one of the energy claws grazed his side, searing his flesh with an eerie cold flame., a blinding attack that disoriented most foes. Han grit his teeth, rolling to the side and delivering a devastating palm strike to the beast's ribs.
The two clashed relentlessly—pure strength against primal fury.
Han's muscles burned, his injuries from the battle accumulating. The beast, though formidable, was also growing weaker.
Realizing he couldn't win by brute force alone, Han shifted his strategy. He closed his eyes for a moment, attuning himself to the beast's pulsing spiritual presence. The Guardian Beast relied on illusions and sudden shifts between physical and ethereal states—if Han could read the moment it became tangible, he could strike.
When the beast lunged again, its fangs bared, Han didn't dodge. Instead, he stepped forward, sensing the shift—right before impact, the beast fully materialized. That was his opening.
Han gathered every ounce of his Qi into his palm and unleashed Sky-Shattering Palm, striking directly into the beast's core. The energy rippled outward, dispersing the illusionary mist and collapsing the Guardian Beast's form into the abyss., a full-force strike that pierced through the beast's chest, sending it crashing to the ground.
The Guardian Beast of Twilight had fallen.
Han staggered but remained standing, he was victorious.
Just as he reached for the flower, a chuckle echoed from the darkness.
From behind a ruined pillar, an old man stepped out. Though aged, his stance was steady, and his eyes held the glint of a seasoned warrior. His presence alone exuded strength.
"Thank you for getting rid of that thing," the old man said casually. "Now, be a good lad and leave the flower."
Han's eyes narrowed.
His pendant hummed, assessing the old man's power level.
Unknown Warrior
Cultivation Level: Core Formation (Peak Stage)
Strength Rating: 92/100
Han was one level below him.
But he was not afraid.
"I'm afraid I can't do that," Han said coldly.
The old man sighed. "Then I suppose we will have to see who deserves it."
The two warriors lunged at each other, their fists colliding with the force of an earthquake. The abyss trembled beneath their sheer strength as dust and debris swirled around them. Neither relied on intricate cultivation techniques—this was a brutal test of raw power and battle-hardened instincts.
Neither relied on fancy techniques, this was a raw battle of power and skill.
The old man fought like a seasoned veteran, his attacks carried the weight of decades of experience. He never wasted movement, each strike precise, each dodge calculated. He anticipated Han's attacks before they fully formed, adjusting his stance fluidly to block and counter. His footwork, though slower, was deeply rooted, allowing him to deflect Han's force with minimal effort.
Han, however, had youth and endurance on his side. His attacks were aggressive, relentless, and unpredictable. Unlike the old man, he fought with pure adaptability, adjusting mid-strike to exploit any weakness. He quickly noticed how the old man's movements, while precise, had a half-second lag in recovery—his aging muscles no longer responding with the same sharpness as his mind. Han began feinting attacks, forcing the old man to commit to counters before twisting into new, unexpected strikes.
Fists shattered boulders.
Kicks sent shockwaves through the abyss.
For what felt like an eternity, the abyss echoed with the sounds of flesh meeting flesh, the ground cracking beneath their feet. Han launched a savage flurry of punches, but the old man absorbed them like an immovable mountain. Then, with an explosive burst of force, the old man delivered a devastating elbow strike to Han's ribs, sending him skidding backward, blood dripping from his lips. Han's vision blurred—he had underestimated just how much damage he had taken from both the beast and this battle.
But time was against the old man. Age was his greatest enemy.
The battle teetered on edge—both fighters were battered, barely standing. Han gritted his teeth, using his opponent's previous movements against him. He feigned a stagger, baiting the old man into stepping forward for a finishing blow. In that fleeting instant, Han twisted on his heel, dropping low and driving a crushing Titan Breaker Fist straight into the old man's ribs.
The Qi-infused force ruptured the air, sending the old warrior hurtling backward. He slammed into the mountainside with a thunderous impact, cracks webbing out from where he landed.
The old man slumped against the rocks, his breathing ragged. He tried to push himself up, but his arms trembled and gave way. He let out a slow chuckle, the ghost of a warrior's pride still lingering in his eyes.*
Han stood over him, bloodied and exhausted, but Han had prevailed.
The old man chuckled weakly. "You've won, young man. Your strength is undeniable."
He coughed while his blood flowed profusely, his life slipping away. "But before you take the flower… hear my plea."
Han did not move.
The old man continued, "This flower… it was not meant for me. It was for my granddaughter. She lives by the lake nearby… A poor child, blinded from grief after her mother passed away."
His trembling hands grasped Han's wrist, his grip weak but desperate. "Please… cure her. That is all I ask."
With those final words, the old warrior breathed his last.
Han remained still for a moment, then turned his gaze toward the flower.
Intrigued, Han followed the old man's dying words and found the small cottage by the lake.
Inside, a blind girl sat alone, struggling to complete simple tasks now that her grandfather was gone.
She sat quietly at the table, tears rolling down her cheeks as she fumbled with her food.
Han watched for a while, a strange emptiness filling him.
He had never known his parents.
He, too, had been abandoned by fate.
Perhaps… she was no different from him.
In a sudden motion, he stepped forward, knocking her unconscious before she could react.
Carefully, he extracted the sap of the Twilight Spirit Bloom and applied it to her eyes.
The room was silent.
A furious voice echoed in his mind.
"You defied me."
Han smirked. "You can just leave me to die from the poison… or you can send me on the next quest."