Li Yao walked through the forest, the soft moonlight shining down on him as he passed under the tall trees.
The air was cool and quiet, and every step he took felt like he was retracing a path long known to him. He wasn't moving at random, but he followed the faint memories left behind by the soul that once lived in this body, using them as his guide.
Not long ago, he had eaten till his heart was content and no longer needed to worry about hunger. What weighed on his mind instead was the long journey still ahead of him.
Right now, he had only one place in mind—the Demonic Cult Academy. It was known as the training ground for those who walked the path of darkness, a school that raised countless murim masters loyal to the demonic faction. To enter it meant stepping into a place where strength mattered above all — the survival of the fittest.
It was marked as the turning point for every Murim warrior in the demonic faction, each driven by a single goal—to rise as Murim masters and gain the strength needed to defend their sects.
But for Li Yao, the academy was more than a path to strength, it was the foundation of his vengeance. After his transmigration, he had no desire to set foot within its walls. But now, after the sects had taken from him the one thing he longed for in both lives—peace.
He was left with no choice but to reclaim the great status he once held and seek vengeance against those who had slain the last people he cherished in this world.
But first, he had to understand the very roots of cultivation. He needed to grasp the basics—Cultivation 101. And the only path to that knowledge lay within the halls of the Demonic Cult Academy.
As he traveled, a faint growl reached his ears from the side. The bushes stirred, and the gentle night breeze brushed past him.
"What was that?" He quickly turned around, his body tense as he sensed danger nearby. Traveling at night was never safe, and every warrior knew it.
The darkness hid too many things—beasts that hunted, bandits that stalked, and spirits that wandered restlessly. Passing through a great forest made it even worse, where every rustle of leaves and every shadow could be hiding a threat waiting to strike.
But he had no choice—not after his new home had been reduced to ashes. The stench of burning flesh still clung to the air, heavy and sharp, a scent certain to draw the attention of some ravenous predator lurking in the dark.
As he peered into the darkness, several pairs of glowing eyes emerged, fixed directly on him. His breath caught, his eyes widened, and he instinctively stepped back.
The glowing eyes slowly emerged from the veil of darkness around him, until their forms became clear—three massive bears stepping into the open.
"Black bears!?" It was a cause for alarm. These were predators with a strength far beyond what any normal human could match. And right now, that was all he was—just a normal human.
The three bears lunged forward at once, their massive claws slashing down toward him. Li Yao wasted no time. Planting his right hand firmly against the ground, he pushed off with all his strength and flipped backward, barely managing to land on his feet.
"Damn it." It was clear — the difference in potential between his current body, and his previous body. Back when he was revered as the god of magic, his physical abilities transcended beyond mortal comprehension. With just one finger, he could destroy mountains, lay waste to meteor from outer space.
But this body? It could barely handle a simple backflip. The landing felt as if he had leapt from the top of a building, his bones nearly shattering from the impact.
It was weak, unrefined, and would likely become the very reason for his death in this battle.
"At this rate." He analyzed his situation immediately, and it was clear. He only had one option left.
So he took off running.
The bears roared out, and charged after him, unwilling to let such a tempting meal slip from their grasp. Li Yao's eyes widened as he glanced over his shoulder. These beasts weren't just strong—they were fast. Faster than him!
At the last moment, he forced every bit of strength into his legs and hurled himself sideways to the ground—just before their claws could tear into him and skewer him like prey.
He lay on the ground, the impact still jolting through his body. As he struggled to steady himself, a massive shadow loomed over him, and his eyes widened once more.
He quickly turned his gaze and saw one of the bears lunging toward him, its claws stretched out, ready to skewer him with a single slash.
"Is this the end for me? Again?" This was the worst way for him to fall—the once-feared god of magic, now reduced to nothing more than food for the very creatures he had once looked down upon.
Then.
SLICE!
Almost instantly, the bear's head was severed from its shoulders, tumbling to the ground as its body collapsed in a spray of blood.
"Huh?"
"Adventurer." A voice came from behind him. "Don't you know it's not safe to travel at night?"
He quickly turned around—and there he was. A middle-aged man standy behind him, with a blood-stained saber gripped in his hand. His robes swayed gently in the night breeze, and his steady gaze held the weight of countless years of experience.
"W—who are you?"
The remaining two bears let out a roar in unison, startling Li Yao. He quickly turned his gaze back to them, his chest tight with distress.
They lunged at him once more.
"We'll handle formalities later, right now." The middle-aged man spoke as he tightened his grip on the saber. Sliding his right leg back, he leaned his upper body forward. Then, with a steady breath, he lifted his head—and in the next instant, vanished from sight.
"First form of the Crimson Saber — Crimson Nova!"
That was all Li Yao heard before the two bears were cut into pieces. The middle-aged man, who had vanished from his sight, now stood calmly behind their fallen corpses.
The man sheathed his saber, drew in a deep breath, and then turned his gaze toward Li Yao.
"Impossible..." Li Yao muttered under his breath. He hadn't even realized the man had vanished until everything was already over.
"That sword technique." It was strange—stranger than anything he had ever witnessed. Back in his world, countless sword techniques had been created to help mages fight and protect themselves.
Kenjutsu. And he knew them all, every last technique.
But this was different. But one thing was for certain.
As the man walked toward him, his gaze wavered, as though he had come to some sudden realization.
"That strange technique... His breathing afterwards... That sword." There was no mistake.
"A cultivator." He muttered under his breath.