The forest was dead quiet.
Even the wind held its breath.
Shadow crouched among the tangled roots of a fallen tree, eyes narrowed and locked onto the beast across the clearing. Massive, silver-gray fur shimmered in the pale moonlight, muscles rippling beneath its hide. The **Mountain-Fang Beast** moved with deceptive grace for a creature its size. Fangs longer than daggers, claws that gouged stone.
And it was waiting. Listening.
> "Smart," Shadow thought. "No wonder it's survived so long."
He calmed his breath, merging into the silence.
For five days he had tracked it. Three days since the skirmish with Wei Liang, and though his body still ached, his blade was steady. He had one shot.
The beast shifted slightly—its shoulder exposed.
> "There it is."
Shadow's eyes flared.
He moved—fast, quiet, exact.
> **Flash Blade Art.**
His form vanished into the blur of motion. One breath later, he reappeared behind the monster. His blade was drawn. Blood sprayed like mist into the night.
The Mountain-Fang roared—once—then collapsed, its neck split clean across the joint.
Shadow stood still as the body thudded to the ground.
> "One strike. As long as the weakness shows… I kill."
---
Returning to the Sect
The journey back took four days, and Shadow made no detours. His injuries had mostly closed, but the toll of constant cultivation and battle showed in his steps. He entered the Verdant Moon Sect's outer courtyard without a word, his robes dusty and streaked with dried blood.
He approached the mission hall.
Behind the reception table sat a narrow-eyed elder with gray in his beard and a sharp gaze. He looked up as Shadow approached.
> "Report."
Shadow placed the signed hunt scroll and a claw from the Mountain-Fang Beast onto the table.
The elder's brow rose.
> "You completed this… alone?"
Shadow nodded.
> "Fourth Level now?" the elder asked, scanning his Qi faintly. "Or still at the third?"
Shadow said nothing.
The elder chuckled.
> "Hiding your strength, hmm? No matter. This report will stir the courtyard. You'll find your payment in the records tomorrow."
> "Understood," Shadow replied, bowing slightly.
He turned to leave.
The elder's voice followed him.
> "Be careful, Shadow. Those who rise too fast become the first to be watched."
Shadow paused for half a second.
Then walked out without answering.
---
### **Home**
The small courtyard house he returned to had nothing but a wooden bed, a chair, and a water basin. He bathed quietly, changed into clean robes, and sat cross-legged by the window as twilight sank in.
He lit a candle.
And thought.
Two martial techniques now filled his arsenal—but both carried weight.
> "**Flash Blade Art**: flawless in theory. But useless without exposure. The moment the enemy guards their weakness… the art falters."
He flexed his fingers.
> "It's not about speed. It's about timing."
Then he focused inward.
His dantian pulsed slowly, holding the remnants of thunder inside.
> "**Thunder Slash**…"
> "The full version… is devastating. It breaks defenses. But…"
He remembered the Duan fight—the paralyzed limbs, the fading breath.
> "One use per day. That's it. Maybe two if I want to die."
He exhaled.
> "The modified version… reduced power. But usable. Three times if my energy holds."
> "My martial path isn't quantity. It's lethality."
But then… there was still one more thing.
He reached beneath his bed and retrieved the scroll bound in **black silk and silver thread**—the one taken from Wei Liang.
He stared at it for a long moment.
Then opened it.
The text inside swirled unnaturally.
Runes bled into one another. Diagrams shifted. Lines realigned every time the eye focused.
But Shadow's mind was forged through hell.
He studied it for **hours**. Lines became patterns. Symbols became intent.
By midnight—he understood.
And by dawn—he was frozen.
> "This… isn't just martial arts."
The technique was called **Three Timeless Physiques**.
> "Split your being into three manifestations: Past Body. Present Body. Future Body."
Each clone was a full version of the user—reflections pulled from different strands of time itself. They could act independently, fight, think, evolve.
The Past Body wielded experience.
The Present Body carried all raw potential.
The Future Body foresaw movements and mimicked advanced evolutions.
But the cost…
> "To cultivate this, one must possess a soul ten times stronger than average… a body that can withstand temporal splitting… and a spiritual core capable of holding three different reality threads at once."
Shadow stared at the candle, its flame flickering.
> "Who… created this?"
> "Who was strong enough to even try cultivating it?"
> "And more importantly… why did a **bandit** have this in his ring?"
He rolled the scroll back up carefully, his hands tighter than before.
> "This… is not ordinary. Not even rare."
> "This is the kind of technique wars are fought over."
He placed the scroll in a hidden compartment beneath the floor.
And for a long time, just sat in the dark—listening to his own breath.
> "If I walk this path… I won't be allowed to turn back."
The wind brushed against his window.
And the storm outside was nothing compared to the one within.
---