The tent flapped gently in the morning breeze.
Sunlight bled through the patched cloth roof and touched Shadow's face. His eyes opened slowly, golden light dancing over his dark pupils. A moment passed before he sat up fully, blinking once—twice—and then inhaled deeply.
The air felt lighter.
His body—stronger.
He focused inward.
There it was.
A shift.
> "I broke through."
The second level of the **Foundation Building Realm**.
Without pills. Without guidance.
Only through combat, observation, and the intense strain of creating and practicing the **Sword Flash Art**—his own technique, born from raw survival.
Even more shocking was the surge within his dantian.
The thunderous energy had grown.
It was more chaotic than before, swirling wildly like a tempest sealed in a jar. Sparks of it danced across his meridians, crackling faintly in his veins.
And yet, it didn't hurt.
It made him **smile**.
> "I'm getting closer."
He rose, stretched, and looked around at the worn fabric of his temporary shelter.
He was still **poor**, still unsupported.
No resources, no pills, no cultivation room.
Just him, an old sword, and a will that refused to break.
> "The sect won't feed me. Then I'll feed myself."
He walked to the river beyond the outer courtyard, stripped off his worn robes, and stepped beneath the cold cascade of a mountain spring.
The water struck his body with numbing clarity, washing away the dirt, sweat, and blood of the past three days.
He took his time.
He let the cold sharpen his mind.
Then he dressed in clean, repaired robes and turned toward the **Mission Hall**.
> "If I want to reach the third… or even the **fourth level** of Foundation in the next 23 days, I need spirit stones."
> "The Heaven-Stealing Sutra requires far more energy than conventional methods. Each breakthrough is **twice** as hard."
His estimate was clear: to rise from second to third level, he'd need **60 lower-grade spirit stones**.
To go from third to fourth? **120 more**.
A daunting amount.
But not impossible.
---
🏛 The Mission Hall
The hall was a wide building of black stone, perched between the outer and inner disciple quarters.
Inside, dozens of outer disciples milled about, reading notice boards and arguing over missions.
Each mission was categorized by **difficulty**:
- **Green Rank** – Simple errands: herb gathering, cleaning, servant escort.
- **Blue Rank** – Riskier tasks: guard duty, delivery to outer towns, light patrol.
- **Red Rank** – Combat missions: beast subjugation, bandit suppression, wilderness escort.
- **Black Rank** – Dangerous missions meant for inner disciples or elite outer disciples.
Shadow ignored the Green and Blue boards entirely.
His eyes went straight to **Red Rank**.
> "I need challenge. Real combat. A chance to test and refine the Sword Flash Art."
He read through several listings until two caught his eye.
---
### 📝 Mission 1 – Bandit Suppression (Red Rank)
**Location**: Northern ridge near Black Willow Forest
**Details**: A band of rogue cultivators have attacked multiple outer villages.
Estimated strength: 4-6 men, all early Foundation Realm. Last seen near a ruined outpost.
**Reward**: 5 lower-grade spirit stones
**Completion Time**: Within 7 days
---
📝 Mission 2 – Beast Hunt: Mountain-Fang Wolf (Red Rank)
**Location**: Emerald Fang Hills
**Details**: A Mountain-Fang Wolf has been terrorizing hunting paths.
Extremely agile. Estimated strength: 4th level of foundation building , approaching Foundation 4th threshold.
**Reward**: 5 lower-grade spirit stones + beast core if claimed
**Completion Time**: Within 5 days
---
Shadow approached the stone desk where an elder sat, sipping tea.
> "Two Red Rank missions," Shadow said. "Bandit Suppression and Mountain-Fang Hunt."
The elder raised an eyebrow.
> "Ambitious. Most wouldn't dare take both, let alone back-to-back."
> "I don't have time for fear."
The elder chuckled and stamped the two slips.
> "Return with proof and you'll be paid. And, boy…"
> "Yes?"
> "Don't die. Paperwork's annoying."
---
### 🏞 Into the Wild
Shadow left the sect that same afternoon, sword across his back, and set off north through the bamboo trails.
His first target: the bandits near **Black Willow Forest**.
The journey took a day. He moved swiftly, but not foolishly. Along the way, he stopped to train his movement technique, refining how his foot landed, how his weight shifted.
He visualized his **Sword Flash Art** again and again.
Closing in.
Aligning.
Striking.
> "No waste. No delay."
He arrived at the ruined outpost by dusk of the second day. The scent of blood still lingered. Burnt wood. Scattered weapons.
He crouched on a hill, surveying the camp.
Four men.
One 3rd level Foundation. Three 2nd level of foundation
The fifth—possibly the leader—was not in sight.
> "Numbers match. But strength lies not in headcount… it lies in timing."
He waited until night.
He waited until the fire burned low.
Then he moved.
---