The cultivator emerged from the ruins—a woman, perhaps in her mid-twenties, robed in dark purple. Her eyes, sharp and cold, scanned the surroundings carefully. Every step she took seemed to absorb the chaotic energy rather than repel it.
He stepped out from behind a jagged rock. "You shouldn't be here," he said casually.
She froze, then tilted her head. "Neither should you. Who are you?"
His smile widened. Perfect. "Someone who doesn't belong. And you?"
"I am… a Saint of the Eastern Continent," she replied carefully. "I am here to investigate the anomaly known as the Fallen Boundary. Your presence is… unexpected."
Unexpected, he repeated inwardly. That was one way of putting it. To the Saints, any being outside the system was an error, a flaw in the Primordial World.
"Unexpected?" he said, his voice calm. "I'm glad you noticed. Most do not."
She narrowed her eyes. A faint ripple of spiritual power flared from her body. He could see it clearly now: she was strong, far stronger than the chaotic creatures he had fought. Not yet a full Saint, but close.
"I can see that," she said. "I should eliminate you before your existence causes irreparable damage."
He tilted his head, amused. "Or… we could see if we can… understand each other."
Her gaze hardened. "I do not bargain with anomalies."
He raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender. "Fair enough. Then let us see if your skills are as refined as your title."
The air trembled as she advanced, energy rippling outward with every step. He could feel the weight of her cultivation pressing against him. Unlike the chaotic creatures, this was precision. Every strike she made was designed to test him, not to kill outright… yet.
The first clash sent rocks tumbling. His body moved instinctively, dodging and countering—not with strength, but with anticipation, with calculation.
Her eyes widened slightly. "Interesting… you move differently. Not like a cultivator relying on Dao recognition."
He smirked, though she couldn't see it. That was exactly what made him dangerous. Outside the calculations of Heaven, outside the Saints' predictions… every step, every action, a variable no one had accounted for.
By nightfall, the battle ceased—not from fatigue, but from caution. They stood a few paces apart, eyes locked.
"Name?" she asked finally.
He smiled faintly, gray and unreadable. "For now… call me Wu."