Outside the Jade Petal Inn, the street buzzed with soft lantern light and the murmurs of early night. But just a few steps off the path, in the shadow of a silent alley, stood Xuan Feng—hands behind his back, expression cold.
He stared at the wooden doors of the inn.
Jaw tight.
Eyes burning.
"That bastard thinks he can ignore me?"
His words were sharp. Quiet. Furious.
One of the disciples—taller, snake-eyed, with a soft scar across his lip—stepped forward, voice calm.
"We could go in. Force our way up. You still wear the Silverthorn crest."
Xuan Feng didn't even glance at him.
"Did you not feel it?" he said. "The woman behind the counter didn't even blink when I flared my Qi. And that rogue…"
He sucked in a breath through his teeth.
"I don't like how quiet he was. It wasn't empty. It was controlled. Like he's hiding how deep it goes."
The second disciple, a shorter one wrapped in layered talismans and thick scroll belts, smiled faintly.
"We don't have to barge in, Young Master."
Xuan Feng turned. "Explain."
The talisman-wrapped disciple stepped closer, pulling a slip of yellow paper from his sleeve. It glowed faintly with blue runes.
"Silent Veil Technique. It'll let me walk through shadow and smoke. I can slip past spiritual barriers and low-tier detection arrays."
"And?" Xuan Feng asked, interest sparking behind his scowl.
"I sneak into the inn. I locate the room. Confirm he's there. If you want, I can even bring him out."
"Without alerting the woman?"
"She won't feel a thing."
Xuan Feng folded his arms. Thought for a moment.
Then slowly nodded.
"You have one hour."
He stepped back into the darkness.
"If he's asleep, gag him. If he's meditating, knock him out. I don't care how clean it looks—just get him to the courtyard by the east canal."
The disciple nodded, already unfolding the talisman and whispering an incantation under his breath.
Mist began to curl around his legs.
His form started to shimmer, fading in and out like smoke in moonlight.
A gust of wind passed through the alley—and then he was gone.
Xuan Feng turned to the other disciple, who still stood silently behind him.
"If he is as strong as I think he is…"
"…you'll challenge him publicly?" the disciple asked.
Xuan Feng narrowed his eyes.
"No."
He turned back toward the inn.
"I'll break him quietly."
---
Rykarion sat cross-legged on the bed now, robes loose around his shoulders, hair falling freely down his back. Moonlight spilled in through the window, casting silver lines across the polished floor.
The night outside was loud.
But in here?
Silence.
He opened his palm, and a translucent screen shimmered to life in the air before him—hovering with quiet pulses of golden light. The familiar hum of the Heavenly System gently echoed in his thoughts.
[Status – Rykarion]
Cultivation Realm: Foundation (12%)
Bloodline: Royal Dragon – Purity: 96%
Passive: Battle Insight [Lv. 1]
Techniques:
• Flame Spiral [Lv. 2]
• Draconic Tempering Technique [Base Tier]
• Draconic Ember Pulse [Locked]
Available Actions:
▸ Meditate
▸ Refine Beast Core
▸ Expand Qi Veins
▸ Enter Combat Mode
He tapped on Expand Qi Veins mentally. A diagram of his body appeared—Qi channels mapped out in gold, glowing slightly uneven in certain areas.
"Still stabilizing…" he muttered.
He exhaled slowly.
Closed his eyes.
Then—
He felt it.
A prickle.
Not on his skin.
In the air.
Subtle. Like a thread being plucked behind him. It didn't move sound. It didn't stir dust. But something had shifted.
His eyes opened.
And his irises flickered gold.
[Combat Mode: Engaged]
Alert: Hostile presence detected within 4 meters.
Skill enhancement granted: Battle Insight Lv.2 → Lv.3 (Temporary boost)
Passive ability activated: Draconic Sense – Detecting Qi fluctuations within enclosed space.
Calculating threat level…
He didn't move yet.
He waited.
Let it unfold.
From the corner of the room, the shadows rippled. Just slightly. Like the room blinked wrong. Then the mist crept in—slow, deliberate, unnatural. It crawled from under the crack of the door, hugging the ground like oil.
Then a shape formed.
Kneeling. Cloaked. No face visible beneath the talisman-veil.
Silent.
Precise.
The intruder raised one hand, fingers wrapped in black thread, a small scroll glowing dimly between them.
He took one step forward.
Rykarion vanished.
The shadow disciple froze mid-cast.
"What—?"
CRACK!
Rykarion's knee slammed into the intruder's stomach from above, descending like a meteor. The man hit the ground with a thud that bent the floorboard inward. But Rykarion wasn't done.
He flipped, midair, and spun back around.
"Flame Spiral — First Form!"
His foot caught fire mid-motion—golden Qi erupting from his leg as he whipped into a brutal crescent kick that tore through the shadow disciple's shoulder, sending him flying into the side wall with enough force to crack stone.
The talismans scattered in the air like burning leaves.
The disciple hit the floor, coughing blood, wide-eyed beneath his veil.
"Impossible…"
Rykarion landed slowly, letting the last ember roll down his sleeve before speaking.
"You tried to gag a dragon in his sleep."
He took a step forward.
The man scrambled back, fingers shaking as he tried to draw another scroll—but Rykarion was already in front of him, palm glowing.
"Draconic Ember Pulse."
Bloodline Skill Activated: Draconic Ember Pulse
• Forms a concentrated blast of solar dragon Qi
• Can pierce low-tier spirit barriers
• Internal burn damage bypasses normal defenses
A sigil burst in the air above Rykarion's hand—an ancient dragon rune glowing with gold and red fire. The heat in the room spiked instantly. Candles melted. Wood began to blacken.
"No—!" the man shouted, throwing up a defensive seal.
Too late.
Rykarion's hand shot forward, slamming against the man's chest.
BOOM!
A focused blast of burning gold exploded into the disciple's body, launching him through the wall—literally through it—shattering wood, breaking into the next room, and taking most of the side wall with him.
The entire inn shook.
Dust and fire rained from the ceiling.
Footsteps rushed below.
Voices screamed from the street.
But Rykarion didn't move.
He stood in the center of the wrecked room, arm still raised, chest rising and falling slowly.
The system chimed softly.
[Enemy Defeated: Shadow Cultivator – Peak Foundation Realm]
• EXP Gained: +6%
• Foundation Progress: 12% → 18%
• Passive Skill Upgrade: Draconic Sense → Permanent
• Flame Spiral – Lv. 3
New Title Unlocked: Predator of the Veil
Title Bonus: Increases damage against stealth-based enemies by 25%.
He exhaled.
"…Cute technique," he muttered. "Too bad you used it on me."
Then—
Bang.
The door burst open.
Meyra stood there, dagger in hand, hair wild from sleep, eyes wide as hell.
"What in the actual fuck just happened?!"
Rykarion glanced over his shoulder.
Half the wall was gone.
Flames flickered in the splinters.
He scratched his head.
"Uh… surprise inspection?"
She stared.
Then looked at the hole.
Then at the unconscious, smoking body lodged in the next room.
"…Rykarion," she said slowly. "Did you blow a man through my inn?"
He shrugged, stepping over rubble.
"He blew first."