Now, Chen stood at his current peak, fifth stage mastery, elevated so close to the sixth that he could feel the barrier thinning beneath his fingertips. The next realm was not a distant aspiration. It hovered just within reach, a fragile window separating mortal from transcendent.
So thin.
So infuriatingly thin.
And yet no matter how he pushed, he could not pierce it.
His breath stalled. A cold tremor crawled up his spine.
Because he felt it again.
That presence.
Chen slowly tilted his head, and there it was. The familiar, horrific visage twisted by centuries of resentment: the cursed spirit that had haunted him for so long. Its shape flickered at the edge of vision, its face a grotesque mirror of the fear he once held.
It watched him with hollow, knowing eyes.
Chen's jaw tightened.
