The sun was slowly rising.
Pale sunlight passed over the broken roofs and shattered stone of the Flowing Cloud Sect, illuminating a courtyard soaked in blood. Weapons lay scattered everywhere—swords snapped in half, spears bent, broken arrows embedded in the ground. Bodies were piled without order, some still clutching their weapons, others lying twisted in unnatural angles.
Smoke drifted lazily in the air.
Near the sect hall, two men stood facing each other.
One was dressed in a pure black robe, stained dark with blood. His posture was straight, calm, almost detached from the chaos around him. His crimson eyes were fixed on the man opposite him.
The other wore a Rakshasa mask.
The mask was bone-white, carved with twisted fangs and hollow eyes that gave off a faint, unsettling aura. His presence alone caused the surrounding air to feel heavy, as if something invisible was pressing down on the world itself.
Aelric looked at the masked man and felt a clear, instinctive difference between him and every other man he had met in this world.
This man was different.
No—more than that.
He was the strongest existence Aelric had encountered since arriving in this world.
Both of them stood still, silently evaluating each other. Neither spoke. Neither moved.
Then—
The masked man vanished.
Aelric's pupils shrank.
A sharp killing intent exploded behind his neck.
In the final instant, driven purely by instinct, Aelric twisted his body sideways. A blade-like force grazed past his face. Pain flared as something sharp cut across his cheek, drawing a thin line of blood.
Aelric landed lightly several steps away.
The masked man reappeared behind him, standing calmly, as if he had never moved.
Both of them were momentarily stunned.
Aelric touched his cheek. Blood stained his fingers.
He narrowed his eyes.
He had barely perceived that movement.
If not for countless battles etched into his instincts, that strike would have taken his head.
At the same time, behind the Rakshasa mask, the man's expression changed.
He hadn't expected this.
In a small, nameless village… someone had reacted to his attack.
Someone had dodged.
His posture subtly shifted, becoming more guarded.
Aelric straightened his back, crimson eyes locking onto the masked man once more. His expression remained calm, but his focus sharpened.
The masked man thought inwardly.
No time.
I must finish this quickly and leave before the sun fully rises.
Slowly, deliberately, he raised both hands.
His fingers moved in strange, unfamiliar patterns—hand seals that did not resemble martial techniques or cultivation divine arts Aelric had seen before.
Clank…
Clank…
Clank…
Suddenly, the ground trembled.
Rocks cracked and lifted into the air. Broken swords, shattered armor plates, fragments of spears—everything made of metal began to vibrate violently. Even debris buried under rubble was dragged out, floating upward as if pulled by an unseen force.
The air hummed.
Then the masked man spoke in a low, commanding voice.
"DOMINION."
The vibration stopped.
All the floating objects went completely still, suspended in the air.
Aelric's eyes widened slightly.
He could see it.
Not with normal vision—but with his perception of energy. The flow within the masked man's body was entirely different from cultivators and martial artists. It did not circulate through meridians or condense into cores. It felt… broader, more absolute.
What was he? Aelric wondered.
Before he could analyze further—
Everything moved.
Thousands of shards, weapons, and fragments shot toward Aelric at terrifying speed, forming a storm of steel.
Aelric leapt backward, narrowly dodging a blade that sliced through the air where his chest had been a moment earlier. He twisted, stepped, and vanished in a blur.
Traceless Divine Steps.
His figure flickered through the courtyard, leaving faint afterimages behind. The metal storm followed relentlessly, changing direction as if guided by will.
Aelric realized something quickly.
This wasn't random.
Every non-living object within a wide radius—nearly five hundred meters—was under that man's control.
It was as if the entire environment had become his weapon.
The speed increased.
Steel grazed Aelric's arm, cutting deep. A fragment pierced his thigh. Blood splashed onto the ground as he landed and moved again.
More wounds followed.
Even with Traceless Divine Steps, the pressure was growing unbearable.
Blood ran down his robe, dripping onto the stone beneath him.
Aelric's expression remained calm, but his thoughts moved rapidly.
Dodging alone won't work.
I need to break the attack.
Blood surged from his palm, gathering and shaping itself. In the next breath, it condensed into a sword—crimson, sharp, and vibrating faintly with power.
Aelric raised the blade.
He recalled a movement.
A single moment he had observed before.
"Azure Heaven Style—Cleaving Horizon."
He had learned it simply by watching Liang Shen once.
Aelric swung.
Two massive arcs of sword energy tore outward, ripping through the storm of flying debris like a blade cutting through water. The rotating mass of metal split apart violently.
One of the arcs continued forward, aimed directly at the masked man.
At the last moment, the masked man lifted his right arm and murmured something under his breath.
The object on his wrist began to glow.
Golden light spread instantly, forming a solid shield that wrapped around his entire body.
The sword energy slammed into it.
A thunderous impact shook the courtyard.
Dust exploded outward.
When it cleared, the golden shield was still intact—unmarked.
The sword energy dispersed.
Aelric did not hesitate.
Two more blood swords formed behind his back, hovering silently. With a sharp motion, he sent them forward.
The masked man stood still, confident in his defense.
Crack.
A thin fracture appeared on the shield.
Crack—crack.
The shield shattered.
The masked man reacted instantly, twisting his body to the side. One blood sword missed his chest by a hair's breadth—but the other pierced deep into his shoulder.
Blood sprayed.
The masked man staggered backward.
Aelric moved using Traceless Divine Steps.
In an instant, he closed the distance, blood sword aimed at the masked man's throat.
But the space distorted.
The masked man vanished again.
Aelric halted, eyes sharp.
The masked man reappeared nearly a hundred meters away, breathing heavily. Blood flowed from his shoulder, staining his clothes.
The sun had risen further.
Time was running out.
The masked man looked at Aelric with open fear now.
He hesitated.
Then clenched his teeth.
Hand seals formed once more.
Clank…
Clank…
Clank…
"REALM CREATION."
As that words came out his mouth the world twisted.
Space itself seemed to fold and collapse.
In the next moment, Aelric stood in a vast, frozen land. Snow stretched endlessly in all directions. The sky above was pale and empty, without sun or clouds.
Cold wind blew across the plains.
Aelric looked around calmly.
This was not an illusion.
As the master of the Mind Realm, he could sense that clearly.
But it wasn't true reality either.
Something in between.
A constructed domain.
He felt the energy here—unstable, artificial. If he used Progenitor's Authority, he could shatter it. But his essence was nearly depleted.
Not worth the backlash.
Blood dripped from his wounds, soaking into the snow. Slowly, patches of white turned red beneath his feet.
Then—
The sky darkened.
Thousands of swords formed from ice appeared overhead in the sky, all pointing toward Aelric. Their cold light reflected in his crimson eyes.
Aelric raised his blood sword.
He gathered every remaining trace of essence.
The ice swords descended.
Just as Aelric prepared to strike—
The world shattered.
Space broke apart like glass.
Aelric found himself back in front of the sect hall.
The masked man was gone.
Aelric immediately understood.
This had never been about killing him.
It had been about buying time.
He turned and rushed into the sect hall.
Inside, bodies lay everywhere.
Li Hong lay at the center.
His spine was broken, twisted unnaturally. Four men in black lay crushed around him—likely his personal guards. Li Cheng's body was torn apart beyond recognition. Other corpses were scattered, too damaged to identify.
Aelric walked forward, stepping over bodies without hesitation.
Li Hong was still alive—barely.
Blood bubbled from his mouth as he murmured weakly.
"That… was ancestor's arti…fact… how…"
Aelric crouched and placed his hand on Li Hong's head.
Essence flowed in.
Memories surfaced—fragmented, corrupted.
Pain surged through Li Hong's body. Veins bulged on his head as he trembled violently, unable to scream.
Dark energy resisted Aelric's intrusion.
A curse… or restriction.
Suddenly—
Li Hong's head exploded.
Blood splattered across the hall—and across Aelric's face.
Aelric stood still.
He had seen enough.
Information aligned in his mind, simulations forming rapidly.
——
Elsewhere, deep within a forest, the masked man stumbled to a stop. Blood soaked his clothes as he leaned against a tree, gasping for breath.
He looked back toward the distant village.
"Who the fuck was that man…"
His voice trembled.