Aaryan stared at the egg hovering in the air like it had just insulted his ancestors.

"You've got to be kidding me," he muttered, watching faint lines crawl across its gleaming surface—hairline fractures pulsing like veins with each rhythmic thump from within.

It was hatching. Of course it was. Now. After sitting quiet and innocent for days like some oversized ornament, the blasted thing decided now was the moment to be born. The same now when he was bruised, half-starved, and hunted like a demon by men with more greed than sense.

"Perfect bloody timing," he hissed.

For nearly two weeks, Aaryan had darted between thickets, cliffsides, and shadowy woods, hiding wherever nature offered a crevice. He couldn't make it far—not with the Evernight Sect's bounty painting a target on his back like a glowing brand. He'd slit the throats of over twenty hopeful fools already—rogues, mercenaries, and even a few fellow disciples who thought the price on his head outweighed whatever memories they once shared.

But this wasn't the time to dwell.

He turned and grabbed Meera, who lay nearby, her round silver eyes fixed on him as if his blabbering was a grand speech worth hearing.

"We're moving. Now," he said.

Without waiting for a response, he swept her up in his arms and bolted into the forest. She didn't resist. Wind tore past his ears as branches lashed at his cheeks. He took a long route, weaving through game trails and skirting hills, heading for a place he'd nearly ignored during an earlier scout.

It wasn't even a cave, really—just a slit in the rock wall, narrow and shallow, barely enough room to crouch in. At the time, he'd dismissed it as useless.

Funny how useless places became havens when death came knocking.

"Damn, Meera, you've gotten heavy," he muttered mid-run, breath ragged. "What've you been eating behind my back? Mountain squirrels? Ironwood bark?"

She blinked and let out a quiet puff of air. It might've been a laugh. Or indigestion. But her expression twitched—just the barest hint of amusement. First time in two weeks.

Aaryan grinned through gritted teeth. "Oh-ho! Look at that—smiling and everything. At a poor man's suffering, no less. Is this what betrayal feels like?"

She snuggled closer into his chest in reply, ever so slightly, so subtly that he didn't even notice.

He reached the crevice in the cliff wall and gently lowered her inside. It was a tight squeeze—her body curled up neatly, legs folded close. Her hair brushed his wrist once before she tucked it behind her ears.

Aaryan crouched and met her eyes.

"Stay put. No noises. Not that you make any. If anyone finds you, bite their fingers off."

She nodded once, silent and solemn.

He took a deep breath and began layering brush and dry leaves over the hole. Not enough to smother, sparse, but it would break a hunter's gaze if they weren't looking hard.

Satisfied, he gave the wall one last look, then turned and dashed back the way he'd come.

The forest was still—for now.

When he slipped into the cave where he'd left the egg, it was still pulsing, the cracks now wider—like a heartbeat straining to break free. One sharp edge peeked out, a horn or claw stretching for the first time.

Aaryan knelt beside it, exasperated.

"Come on, hatch already," he muttered. "I swear, if you take any longer, they'll be roasting us both on a spit."

As if on cue, a voice rang out from the woods. Harsh and loud.

"Aaryan of Evernight! Come out now and we'll make it quick!"

He blinked. Then laughed. "Well, that was fast. Were you all waiting behind trees like bandits in a play?"

Another voice echoed, sharp and smug. "You're surrounded. No escape."

He shook his head, still grinning despite the danger. "No escape? That's just lazy writing."

He turned back to the egg, pressing his palm against the shell—no longer in jest.

"Listen, you little menace," he muttered, voice low. "I don't know what's in you or why you chose me, but if you're planning something miraculous… now would be a lovely time."

As if it had heard him, warmth flared beneath his touch. The cracks widened in a flash, the thumping inside intensifying—a rhythm syncing with his own. A shimmer laced the shell, faint but alive.

Aaryan let out a slow breath and gave it an affectionate pat. "That's it. I knew you were listening."

His eyes hardened. Without another word, he turned and strode toward the cave mouth.

Outside, leaves rustled with movement. Figures stepped out from the shadows—at least twenty of them, weapons drawn, eyes glinting with hunger. A familiar voice rang out, sharp and smug.

"Well, well. Took you long enough to crawl out, Aaryan."

Aaryan's eyes narrowed. "Bhanu," he said with mock cheer, "using your lackeys as bait? How bold."

Bhanu smirked, arms crossed, standing just behind the front lines. "Don't flatter yourself. You think I'd waste my time testing every useless fool? They did what they were supposed to do—conforming your identity."

Aaryan chuckled. "So, you did bring others to soften me up before swooping in. Tsk. I was hoping you'd deny it so I could feel bad about what I'm about to do."

Bhanu's grin sharpened. "You won't get the chance. We've already sent word to the sect. All we have to do is hold you down. Once the experts arrive, everyone gets a cut."

Aaryan tilted his head, then smiled wide. "Oh? Then I suppose we don't have any time to waste."

And with that, he lunged forward.

Chaos erupted.

Screams tore through the forest as Aaryan became a storm. A blur of fists, elbows, and shattered bones. Within the first ten heartbeats, a blade flew at his chest—he sidestepped, snapped the attacker's wrist, and slammed a knee into their jaw hard enough to lift them off the ground. He ducked under a spear, ripped it from the wielder, and drove it clean through their shoulder before spinning into a second and breaking their spine with a heel.

Bhanu, who had been jeering moments before, was nowhere to be seen. A sharp eye might've caught him crawling away under the cover of debris, clutching a bruised rib and biting down a whimper. He wasn't a fool—he knew when a fire turned into a storm.

Aaryan didn't hesitate—not when it came to the women either. Three of them fell in his path, their eyes brimming with the same bloodlust as the others. He broke a ribcage with one palm, shattered a jaw with his knee, and drove the last one face-first into the ground. If they came for blood, they'd drown in it.

Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Dead.

But he was already moving.

Then they came—three figures, calm and composed, striding through the chaos. They didn't bark orders. They didn't rush. They simply raised their hands—and the air trembled.

Condensation realm.

The one in the middle, wearing a cracked bone pendant, stepped forward, voice clipped and direct. "We've got no quarrel with you, Aaryan. But the rewards are too tempting. You were simply… unlucky."

To his left, the tallest one, in white robes, gave a slight shrug. His tone was almost conversational, like he was commenting on the weather. "If it's any comfort, this isn't personal. We've just got quotas to fill."

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The last one, who wore similar white robes as last one, didn't speak. He only cracked his knuckles, gaze fixed on Aaryan like a butcher sizing up a pig. But the faintest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

They struck before he could reply.

A blast of pale-blue Qi screamed toward him. Aaryan leapt aside, but the edge clipped his shoulder, tearing through flesh like paper. He grunted, rolled, and came up bleeding.

He could match their speed. His body, tempered far beyond what it should be, could take their hits. But Qi was another matter—They only had to channel Qi to manifest attacks—he, on the other hand, had nothing but flesh and bone to push back.

He charged anyway.

Another blast caught his ribs—he twisted just in time, but pain flared through his side. A sword followed, formed with Qi, and he barely blocked it with his punch, as he flew backward, blood streaming from his hand.

He dropped low, kicked one in the knee, ducked under a second's strike, and slammed his fist into the third's chest—but it wasn't enough. Qi surged against him like a tide, burning through his skin, numbing his arms.

He hit the ground hard, blood dripping down his brow. Around him, dozens more had regrouped, forming a circle. The Condensation experts stood in the back, calm as priests.

One of them raised a hand again.

"Enough," someone called.

The forest hushed.

Everyone turned as two figures emerged from the tree line. Dust clung to their robes. One carried a sword across his back, the other walked calmly, hands behind him like he was strolling through a garden.

Aaryan blinked, then frowned in disbelief.

"… You two?"

A murmur ran through the gathered crowd of bounty hunters.

"That's… that's Evernight's crest," someone whispered, voice cracking.

Several took an unconscious step back, eyes darting between the insignia and there imposing silhouette.

"Why would sect disciples be here instead of Elders?" another asked, uncertain whether to lower his blade or raise it.

The two figures calmly walked towards the crowd—robes whispering against the grass, bearing the crest of the Evernight Sect. The crowd parted instinctively. No one stopped them. No one dared.

They came to a halt before Aaryan, whose breathing was shallow, his stance still tense.

Vayu's gaze swept over the scene before settling on him. His tone was low, but dryly amused.

"Brother Aaryan… it seems ever since you became the Mani Disciple, your luck has taken a rather cruel turn."

Rudra said nothing. He simply stood beside them, arms loose, eyes unreadable.

Aaryan gave a slight nod. He didn't trust his voice not to betray him.

Vayu, however, was far from calm beneath that composed surface. His mind churned with questions.

Why?

Why had his aunt—one of the most guarded people he knew—shown such fierce concern over Aaryan? Why had she personally told him to watch over him? Why both of them branded traitor…together?

When he'd returned to the clan, he'd searched. Dug into records. Rumours. Hidden ties. But he'd found nothing. No known history between her and Aaryan. No secret oaths. No past debt.

Just… silence.

And yet here he was, standing beside this Mani-branded youth, about to face the wrath of three Qi Condensation experts and a blood-hungry mob.

But now wasn't the time to chase ghosts.

He turned toward the crowd and bowed with practiced solemnity.

"We thank you all for your cooperation," he said, voice ringing just enough to carry. "We will be taking Mani Disciple Aaryan back to the Evernight Sect."

Rudra moved at once. His hand brushed Aaryan's arm as if to restrain him— —but instead, his fingers slipped a small pill into Aaryan's palm with deft precision.

There was no sign. No word.

The crowd murmured. Whispers twisted like smoke. Some faces lit up with glee at the thought of rewards—others furrowed with suspicion. Too easy. Too clean.

One of the Qi Condensation experts in white robes took a step forward, eyes narrowing.

"Aren't you the nephew of that traitorous elder?" he asked, gaze sharp.

Vayu tilted his head toward Rudra and smirked.

"Seems like it's your kind of welcome, brother."

There was no warning. No shout.

Just two blurs of motion—and the fight exploded.

Rudra vanished into the enemy ranks like a falling scythe. Where he moved, bones snapped, screams rose, and blood darkened the earth. Against the rogue cultivators, he was a death god, efficient and pitiless.

But Aaryan and Vayu had leapt toward the real threat—the three Condensation experts—and found themselves quickly overwhelmed.

Each strike felt like hitting a mountain. Their blows were deflected, their counters shattered. Even working together, they were being pressed back, step by bruising step.

Soon, the tide turned.

They were surrounded again.

Vayu coughed, blood on his lips. A gash trailed down his side. Aaryan's limbs shook—one eye nearly swollen shut. Rudra alone stood straight, chest rising slowly, the only one untouched by the experts' fury.

And now, he stood in front of them, wordless and defiant.

Aaryan stared at the scene. His gut twisted.

Hopeless. Outnumbered. At the mercy of others.

He remembered being five. Alone in a winter-ripped alley. His stomach gnawing itself to death. Eating only when someone felt like giving. Sleeping only when someone let him.

Peace? That was never his right.

It was a privilege granted by others—revoked at whim.

He'd been dragged into danger again and again. Used as bait. As a shield. As a tool. Because he had no one. Because no one cared if he broke.

And now?

It was happening again. Different place, same helplessness.

A crack of wind. A pulse of killing intent.

The man with the cracked bone pendant stepped forward.

Rudra moved to intercept—but a casual flick of the man's wrist hurled him back like a ragdoll. He crashed into a tree with a grunt and a sickening thud, bark cracking behind him.

The expert's hand reached out, fingers like talons, inches from Aaryan's chest.

And something snapped.

Not bone. Not Qi.

Something deeper.

Aaryan's breath hitched.

The world slowed.

In that single frozen instant, the pain disappeared. The noise, the heat, the blood—all fell away. His senses turned inward, and in that abyss, he felt it:

A spark.

Small. Distant. But undeniable.

It pulsed.

Once.

The man in front of him froze mid-strike. His mouth opened, but no sound came.

Then… he slumped.

Eyes wide. Body intact. But spiritless.

Soulless.

A sharp intake of breath rippled through the crowd.

Someone whispered, "What… what did he do?"

Even the most blood-hungry among them took an unconscious step back.

Aaryan stepped back as the man collapsed to the ground. His eyes still stared. His lips twitched. But there was nothing behind them. No spirit. No will.

Just a shell.

Vayu stared.

Rudra groaned, pushing himself up, stunned.

The other two experts backed away in a rare moment of visible fear.

And Aaryan?

He stood in silence.

🔱 — ✵ — 🔱

The silence cracked.

The crowd had been stunned for a moment—until the horror set in.

A Qi Condensation expert, someone who could've been an elder in any minor sect, was now drooling and swaying like a broken puppet. Not even dead. Just… vacant. The remaining two in white robes stared at Aaryan with abject fear in their eyes.

They had heard the rumours, of course. Mani Disciple Aaryan. Slayer of three elders. But that had been dismissed—framed as a one-time miracle, aided by those damn mystical fruits. That was the excuse. That was the gamble.

They had joined this hunt thinking it'd be easy.

Instead, they'd stepped into a nightmare.

Without a word, the two turned and bolted.

They barely made it two steps.

Aaryan's head turned.

His swollen eye twitched open. His irises flashed—a blinding silver gleam, cold and inhuman.

The two experts screamed.

It wasn't a sound of pain. It was deeper. Cracked. As if something inside them was snapping.

Both dropped to the ground mid-sprint, clawing at their heads, thrashing violently. Blood gushed from their eyes and ears, and one began retching as his limbs seized in spasms. The rogue cultivators around them froze in place. None dared move. None dared breathe.

Even Vayu, injured and panting, felt the chill crawl down his spine. Rudra's fingers twitched toward his blade on instinct.

Aaryan was panting heavily, his chest heaving as if every breath was a battle. Slowly, he walked toward one of the screaming experts. His steps weren't steady—they were shuffling, weighted—but they carried the momentum of death.

He didn't speak.

Didn't gloat.

Didn't warn.

Inside him, something throbbed. Raw and new.

He had broken through—Spirit Awakening Realm.

Somehow. Barely. And in doing so, had tapped into the first true attack of the Soul Anvil Technique—Anvil Strike.

He'd read it before, but back then, it was just theory. Today… it had worked.

They didn't fall from fear. A thread-thin needle—formed by condensed soul power—unseen, undetectable—had pierced their minds and buried itself in the Sea of Consciousness. The vibrations had begun, and with them, the screaming.

He reached the expert still rolling on the ground and knelt slowly. His breath fogged in the cold morning air. His eyes held no hate. No triumph.

Just stillness.

And then—

Crack.

His fist crushed the man's skull like an overripe fruit.

The body twitched once. Then went still.

A horrified gasp swept through the crowd like wildfire. A few of the rogue cultivators couldn't take it anymore. They turned to flee—stealthily, desperately, pretending not to run while clearly running.

Aaryan didn't chase them.

He just walked.

Walked toward the final expert, whose mouth was now too full of blood to scream properly.

Another punch. Another mess.

Aaryan stood over the second corpse. His hand trembled slightly. The smell of blood clung to him like steam.

No expression.

As if he were crushing melons in a field.

Then—he staggered. His legs nearly gave out.

He fumbled for the pill Rudra had slipped him earlier and tossed it into his mouth.

A bitter taste.

A sharp burn.

And silence.

Until…

Clap. Clap. Clap.

The sound echoed like a thunderclap.

Aaryan's blurry gaze turned—and his pupils narrowed.

Five figures now stood where none had been a moment before.

Two of them wore the robes of Evernight Sect—Second Grand Elder and Third Grand Elder. Their faces were calm. Too calm.

The remaining three?

They bore the crests of the Cloud Pillar Sect, Crimson Serpent Hall, and Starfall Valley. The air around them bent from their presence.

Something more oppressive.

Qi Condensation Experts.

One of them—a hulking man draped in Crimson Serpent Hall robes—grinned wide.

"Brutal little brat, aren't you?" His voice was deep and approving. "I like that."

Beside him, a graceful woman in the blue-and-white robes of Cloud Pillar Sect chuckled softly. "And he used a soul attack, too. Hm. Quite interesting…"

The third, a woman cloaked in star-patterned silks, tilted her head. "Too bad he killed elders from our sects. That leaves us no choice, doesn't it?"

The Second Grand Elder stepped forward, calm and expressionless. "Elder Jitu. Elder Komal. Elder Vani. There's no need to waste time talking."

He raised a hand.

"We'll capture him now. The Evernight Sect will fulfil the reward."

The three nodded in agreement, and stepped forward.

Aaryan gritted his teeth.

He reached for the jade token inside his spatial ring, ready to crush it and summon Maya—

But then he froze.

His eyes snapped toward the darkened cave in the distance.

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