Shen hastily made his way outside. He didn’t have the luxury to think, if he stood inside his room in so much pain, he would die.

The wind grazed on his arms like countless sharp needles, and he could it feel it to the core of his bones each subtlety of its movements. When it bent to a different direction, when it blew slowly, almost to a stall, or when it came rushing on his body and the evil Qi punctured and weaved threads on his bare skin, oozing with a morbid black liquid that smelt like nothing.

The stone plate sliding down for a few seconds felt like a lifetime of agony.

He gritted his teeth and walked through the hallways, measuring his movements to give the least amount of contact to his arms, and there was the odd feeling of being alone in the middle of the crowd, not because he was just one among countless others, but because there was no other person in his line of sight.

They were things, obstacles.

Sometimes he hastened his steps, while on others he seemed to calm down or halt, but his direction was always a straight line that he didn’t know where it was leading to.

Tension never left his muscles, yet no one could see his pain because of the mask’s effect, and they were warded off whenever they looked at him.

- Hey, who’s that? – They whispered between themselves.

- I have no idea, but from that direction… The only unoccupied room is from the fourth group.

- Are you serious?

A tinge of fear prickled their hearts as they saw a shadow covering their path, something impossible with the luminosity of that area. It could’ve only been produced by a skill, and there was not a single person in the outer sect who didn’t know who mastered that technique.

His voice reached to their ears, and although he was a bit distanced, they felt his breath brushing their hair, carrying a sound that some found detestable and others even funny, but for the weak-willed, chilled their very souls.

- You guys were talking about my family?

Some of them turned around slowly, while others kept frozen to their spots. That person was unpredictable, and they didn’t know if they were supposed to face him or not, he could get angry at anything, but in reality, it didn’t matter for him, so long as he could smell the sweet scent of fear embalming their weak hearts.

- No… Just a guy we didn’t recognize…

- Tell me about it.

- He wears a wooden mask, and he doesn’t have arms. He also-

- Does he look strong?

- Yes…

The young man was satisfied with the answer, and something warm sprouted from his chest as he heard the disciple, whom he deemed a pitiable existence worth less than the dirt on his shoes, if any, telling him that a brother from his division was strong.

He had always been curious as to why that room was vacant ever since he came, but maybe it wasn’t after all. ‘Is he a ghost member? Things have just gotten interesting…’

Deep in his thoughts, he had retracted his technique but the other disciples didn’t dare to move an inch.

- Ehm… Can we go now?

The young man turned to look at the one who had just talked, making him shut his mouth and gulp down his saliva. He looked at his shivering body with his carnivore eyes, sizing him from up and down before throwing an annoyed glance.

- Get the hell out of my sight.

- Yes, senior disciple…

The hallways were cleared out of people, and in the end, there was only him leaning on a side.

- Good morning, senior Ling.

Ling recognized the voice. It never ceased to surprise how the girl had such silent steps, even if his cultivation was currently superior, he could never figure out her existence unless he used his red eyes. A chaos natured cultivator wasn’t really the idea of inconspicuous.

- Morning, Miss Wang, o need to call me senior. Going to the training grounds?

She blushed, which made one of Ling’s eyebrows shot up. She was faking that reaction, and he didn’t know how she did it but it wasn't a big deal in his opinion. He only made connections with the strong, and the girl would surpass him very fast. He had done right in establishing a connection so early.

- Yes, senior. I’ve heard there is someone new coming today?

- Likely. He has white hair and the same stature, though he wears a mask and his clothes are different.

- Then, can it be him?

- Impossible. He looks about as strong as me. Shen could’ve only gone up to the brink of the Mortal Layer, and without Qi refining methods, it would take decades to surpass it, like normal human martial artists.

Wang Fan cast a disappointed look and turned back, walking to her room.

- That being said, he’s very interesting. Come and see! You should take a break every now and then. Coincidentally, today is the monthly mock battle, you will like it, I promise.

***

Shen had sweat covering all of his body. The sun could only touch the surface of that island very obliquely, yet it felt like the rays of light were setting him ablaze. He could no longer try to avoid the pain, darting out against the wind that sliced into his flesh and substituted the pain from the scorch. He didn’t know which was worse.

He ran without looking forwards, seeking every spot he could find to produce a shadow, but would that matter? It would go back to how it was inside the room. He thought that he needed a sword, an axe, even a knife would do.

Anything that could cut them off.

Shen didn’t want to believe that what he had wished for became reality, and that reality was worse than what he had previously. He’d rather keep his severed arms than live with an integrated torture device.

He stumbled and fell, and whether he put himself in a position to avoid damage to his arms or put then forwards, he would either sustain severe injuries or die from the shock, ultimately leading to the same destiny. At that moment the pain didn’t matter anymore, and in a moment of lucidity, he understood it was useless to keep running.

Shen bit his lower lip and put his arms forward to cushion the fall. He could see it in slow motion, the air tearing his flesh and shaving his bones with that much velocity, and the exact moment they touched the ground, crushing them in an instant.

He closed his eyes, he wouldn’t need to struggle anymore. His life would end, along with his pain.

But the moment didn’t come. His death had not been concretized, although the fall had been brought forth.

What Shen didn’t find out then, but would soon discover, was that his pain would never kill him. His body would never give out from the shock, the shadow’s arms always pushed it to the limit, not an inch less and not an inch more – it was a level that, unconsciously, was bearable.

So long as he had then, the pain would never come to an end.

***

Half an hour had passed. Shen wished he had passed out, and even tried to forcefully knock his head off, but whenever conscious seemed to leave him, he would be struck with another bolt of pain that would wake him immediately.

He attempted severing his arms by rushing against one of the towering swords of Sword Cemetary, but whenever he accumulated the impulse to do it, the arms would pass through them till the contact with his shoulders, and he would fall down feeling like they had been turned into paste.

He gave up. Not on trying to subdue the pain. He had given up on life.

He stuck out his tongue inside his mouth and started to gnash on his tongue with the teeth. His suffering was much worse than the one he was bringing upon himself, he didn’t care about it, but in the end, he couldn’t do it.

He couldn’t bring himself to commit suicide, and he couldn’t understand what was stopping him. He could only blame the Shadow for not letting him die a quick death. If he really wished to die, however, there were numerous people in that realm willing to stick a blade through his heart or sever his head, especially in Seven Swords. He asked none of them for it, and even if he asked, a certain someone wouldn’t allow it to happen – at least not so quickly.

The sword Shen had tried to use to sever his arms was an abnormally huge and battered Impaler, covered with scars, and on the top of the handle sat that someone, completely covered by the fog. That was right in the middle of the training grounds.

That person, Chi Zheng, watched the disciples with his dark eyes from very high up with a bored look. They looked like two small black holes, devouring everything, and no one could read him for them, just for his smile that the other elders thought was stupid and nerve-wracking.

No matter where he went, it was very boring. Even though occasionally someone would die, due to the increasingly less intake of disciples, killing or crippling the cultivation of people from the same sect became forbidden – they couldn’t waste manpower in such a critical time. The ones who died usually perished at the hands of extremely talented people, and the matter would be pushed aside – there was no fun in seeing a lion killing a rabbit.

When Shen stepped into the field, Chi Zheng showed an amused smile. With his See All Evil activated at all times, he could clearly see the immense amount of evil Qi condensed in his arms. It was a technique he had never seen before, he didn’t think that Zhu Long would’ve created such a skill.

While techniques that shrouded the members or mutated them into something else existed, and regenerating a body part was possible in some circumstances, completely recreating an arm was unheard of. What intrigued him the most was the things Shen was doing, which made for a good show in his eyes.

‘Why would Zhu Gong choose a cripple as his disciple?’ he found the situation to be very interesting and was eager to find out. Although he was reluctant at lending a helping hand to the kid – he found it more interesting to let things unroll before doing anything – he did have a debt with the old man for saving his life in the battle from a thousand years ago, in which he was one of the thirteen survivors – or, in his view, one of the thirteen strongest.

Shen became very tired from the ordeal. He felt worse than before and regretted acting on impulse in such a critical situation. He wished he could’ve been on the bed. Even if it was better just by one percent, he would take it.

Though he was suffering, the small amount of time he had to consider his experience on the past month taught him that what he just did was stupid and that nothing would change if he stood there doing nothing. He needed to consider his situation, try to act normal and find out what was happening.

He couldn’t ignore the strange things that were happening around him anymore.

Scanning his surroundings, he recognized a wall of fog enclosing an enormous wasteland, with people neatly arranged into courts, which were circular sections.

- Hi, friend. You are?

Due to his miserable state, Shen hadn’t noticed the two persons approaching him, but once he turned to look, he temporarily forgot about it. He had completely forgotten about Ling, and he hadn’t expected to see him so soon, as he didn’t plan to get out for a long time, not to say about Wang Fan, whom he had hoped to never see again, or at least in a very long time.

Shen tried to think of a name, but a gentle wind blew on his arms and he felt another bolt of pain.

- I’m Shen.

At his response, Wang Fan’s heart fluttered. She had lost hope in looking for him, and couldn’t find anyone else she was attracted to, but in her eyes, she saw many distinguishing features of Shen, especially the white hair, which she didn’t find in any other.

- I am Wang Fan. May senior please take off his mask? I would like to see senior’s face.

Another bolt of pain rushed through his veins and he stumbled towards the sword. The two of them didn’t understand that Shen wasn’t in a condition to have a casual chat.

- No, sorry… It is very important to me.

Seeing Shen’s powerful aura and his attitude, coupled with his lack of a surname, Ling felt nothing but sympathy towards him. In that era, few people were born without a surname, and even if they didn’t share a dark past, the social implications of this single fact were always present.

He, like Shen, had always felt like he didn’t belong anywhere.

He talked a bit more with Shen, only simple questions, like where did he come from, his cultivation level, so on and so forth. Neither Shen, nor Wang Fan, nor anyone else who watched this could understand Ling’s motives. That fellow only acted for his own benefits.

Ling found in Shen not a friend, which he defined as someone he could trust. No, he would never trust anyone, the maximum he would do was consider them in his plans. What he found was a companion, someone who had experienced the same things he did, only under a different spectrum.

He led Shen and Wang Fan to their court. A few other people were there already, and a small lady that looked like ten years old sat on the ground near a sword. She wore a black dobok, which showed her status as an inner sect disciple.

- See that girl over there? She’s Peng Yin, supervisor of the first court. I would tell you what’s this court about, but she likes giving the introductions, so go say hi.

Wang Fan stared at Ling with a tinge of surprise. Towards Shen, he acted very comfortably, even though he had just met him. Having known him for a year, she had never seen that side of him.

Shen stumbled forward and looked down. Peng Yin was a bit higher than half his size, but he didn’t care about it and quickly stated his business.

- I’m Shen… Senior Peng.

The little girl scanned him up and down.

- My court holds the smallest number of people, and each one of them is a force to be recognized. Judging from your aura, you should be capable of handling yourself. If you have any questions regarding cultivation, or just want to have a chat, I’m here.

Ling almost rolled his eyes at her last sentence. She always rejected everyone that went for her with doubts outside of cultivation.

- Lastly, the name of this division is Calamity Dragon, and the trait is that in the monthly mock battles, if you want to participate, it will be as leaders of other divisions or as lone fighters. Each of you is capable of defeating standard groups and cannot team up with each other. Understood?

- Yes, senior.

Shen looked at the other three that were originally in the court. They were fixated on his severed arms, but whether they had bad intentions or not, they didn’t show it.

Peng Yin removed a sword from her storage ring, but noticed something strange in the air. A few seconds later, a very thin sword, almost a thread, pierced the ground and got stuck on it.

Shen’s instructor gazed at the direction from which the sword was thrown, on top of the giant Impaler. ‘A gift, huh?’

All of the instructors knew the identity of the person high up in the clouds, and they also knew that that person was especially fond of bloodbaths and carnage.

Shen didn’t understand what was going on until Peng Yin hinted for him to take it, and to the great surprise of the outer disciples, the sword fluctuated in front of him.

That sword was something entirely new to them, but it held some resemblances to a few of the swords towering over Sword Cemetery. Both the hilt and the handguard were very beautiful and comfortable, whereas the blade in itself was narrow, over a meter long and very small in width, with a thick star-shaped cross-section.

Shen recognized it as a sword made for the sole purpose of stabbing, he didn’t try it, however. He accepted the gift and asked Peng Yin if he could go.

- Do what you want – she shrugged. Disciples from the first court were special and many rules didn’t apply to them, such as killing, for instance. If there was growth stemming from blood spilled, it was easily overlooked.

In reality, the first court was only a stage for when the other elders passed by, so they could recognize someone worthy of their time.

The young and inexperienced disciples from other powerful courts grew envious. They’ve never seen that type of sword before, but it was a gift from the lord of Sword Cemetery, one of the few rewards out in the outer sect. To receive it, one didn’t have to kill another disciple – they’ve heard from the instructors that it wasn’t always the case that he would bestow a gift like that, especially since there was the risk of being punished from breaking the rules – rather, one had to entertain him enough.

However, Shen had received the gift without doing anything, and that upset them, especially those who actively tried to gain it.

Disciples from other courts approached Peng Yin.

- Senior Peng, why did that guy get a sword?

- Find out for yourself – she shrugged. Chi Zheng wasn’t one to give swords for free, it always came with a price. If Shen had been gifted with a sword, blood he spilled.

- But he doesn’t even have arms! – they complained.

- I said. Find. Out. For yourself.

They didn’t like how Peng Yin treated them, in their eyes the first court was not so far away from them in terms of power. Individually they were very strong, but since they couldn’t act together, they would always fall behind with sheer numbers.

One girl approached Shen and looked at his arms, giggling. Even if his control of Qi was powerful, he couldn’t deceive anyone: to maintain a sword up in the air with that low of a cultivation level, he would need an extreme reserve of Qi. If that was the case, he wouldn’t even be in the outer sect, to begin with.

It seemed like an act.

- Hey, you. Give me the-

Before she could finish what she had to say, a thread appeared on her neck and her head was sent flying. It was cut off neatly, but with enough impact to crack bits of her skull as her corpse dropped down, splashing blood on her peers.

Once they realized what had happened, they pointed their fingers towards the perpetrator. Ling.

- You’ve broken the rules, and must suffer the same fate as punishment!

He slashed with his long blade again, and another head was sent flying.

- To protect the integrity of the relationship between seniors and juniors of different courts, I was forced to take disciplinary actions against these two disciples who hadn’t referred to us, their superiors, with the appropriate titles and proper speech. Their execution was justified.

There was an unspoken rule that they hadn’t considered: Chi Zheng.

Chi Zheng was the one who made the rules, and contrary to their expectations, his rules weren’t devised to help maximize their growth, although ultimately it led to that. All he wanted was balanced fights that wouldn’t end too quickly, otherwise it would be too boring to watch, but in this case, it was fated to end quickly – they had bought into their own demises.

Prolonging their lives would be asking too much. They were just cattle, and no matter how much they cried out for punishment, all the seniors and instructors didn’t bat an eye – some even relished on the stupidity of the new disciples.

Wang Fan was beside Shen and Ling, and the blood flowing from Ling’s victims also splashed on her. Her techniques allowed her to see in slow motion each step that led into their lives being taken, and the moment the blade left the scabbard to touch their skin, drawing a perfect line separating their head from their bodies, made her hands tremble.

The blood spurting out from their necks and flying heads, the bones that stuck out, the exposed flesh, brimming red with the color of life, and that glorious scent of life flowing out, or fresh death, splashing into her face, they made her whole body shiver.

Ling stared at Wang Fan, worried that he might have scared her.

- Are you alright, Miss Wang?

She waved him off with her hand. They thought she was shocked with fear, and if she was weak, they would’ve thought her naïve, but given her strength, all they could see was a normal girl for that age. Ling feared she would cry, given her blushing cheeks. But beyond that façade, there laid something entirely different.

Wang Fan closed her eyes and opened then again, in full, the scene repeated again in front of her. She braced herself and grasped her body with her trembling hands, gasping for air as something hot and pleasurable ran through her legs all the way up to her chest.

- I am fine… Thank you for worrying.

Shen could only laugh. He didn’t know why he was laughing, but that was his first reaction at seeing someone die right in front of him, just like that. Was it because she didn’t even know how it happened or was it because of how messy it became, despite the clean cut, or the way her corpse fell and her head rolled in the air like the halved part of a fruit, he didn’t know.

He didn’t wish to know, and he found it funny in such a way that for a moment his whole body went numb and he couldn’t feel his arms anymore. He just laughed, and it only sounded eerier since his muscles were a bit constrained from the mask.

It dawned on him that humans were, to their core, jumbled up pieces of meat, blood and bones, the same things that made up the meat he had cut on the kitchen before, the same meat he bought in the market, and although it came from different kinds of animals, it was all one and the same – flesh.

To outsiders, his strange laugh made him seem like some sort of crazy bastard, and the instructors thought that both he and Chi Zheng held resemblances to each other, whereas Ling took it as confirmation that he was the same kind of person as him.

Likewise, he laughed.

Breaking that strange atmosphere, they heard the clapping of hands on the first court. They saw a man with an effeminate face and golden hair walking into Shen’s direction, unfazed while carrying his two swords.

That person was very well known amongst the other disciples.

- Meng Hua…

- It really is Meng Hua…

Meng Hua was a beautiful person on the outside, but he had already killed many others weaker than him for no reason at all. Chi Zheng usually turned a blind eye because he was selected as an Elder’s disciple, and he was only in the outer sect to get used to spilling blood – that much was obvious to him.

He didn’t have much to gain in Sword Cemetery anymore, except for one thing.

After reaching twenty meters of Shen’s position, Meng Hua stopped and smiled amiably.

- Hello, I am called Meng Hua, may you tell me your name, friend? – He asked politely, without a trace of malice in his eyes, but Shen wasn’t listening to him, he was immersed in his own world.

Seeing that he was being ignored, the young man didn’t bother much and continued to talk.

- You see, I want a sword from the Lord of this place, but I always fail to catch his attention. You, on the other hand… I’m sure that person must be very interested. You seem strong… Heh, you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t. I am sure you will disappoint neither of us.

Chi Zheng widened his grin at the scene far below him. Finally, he would get to see a good show. Meng Hua wasn’t like the small fry Ling had killed, his power was authentic, way higher than Shen’s, and his skills with the sword weren’t bad either.

Ling was one of the few who could compete with him, but he couldn’t keep up with Meng Hua in intelligence. While one was brutal and direct in his methods, the other took his time to study the opponent’s methods, and he wouldn’t go for a battle he thought that he had a chance to lose. Ling also possessed a sword gifted by Chi Zheng, and all of them were of a special kind, and that tipped the fight in his favor, though he wasn’t scared of Shen’s.

Unlike Shen’s, Ling’s blade was long with a slight curvature, and very sharp compared to the normal blades. The most terrifying, however, was the draw. The sword left the scabbard with such speed that people couldn’t see its sheen. It was especially good at slashing, which was the favored style of many, but specially Ling.

- So, have you already thought of your last words? – asked Meng Hua while circling Shen from the sides.

Shen remained silent, but even though he had lasted a month without his arms, they still moved his sword and pointed it directly at Meng Hua’s heart, accompanying it as he moved.

- Hmph, very well then.

Ling and Wang Fan got out of the way like everyone else. They couldn’t disturb this duel or it would infuriate Chi Zheng.

Meng Hua was about ten meters away from Shen. He got into a battle stance, with the longer sword forward and the smaller one closer to his body, and slowly approached his enemy while making sure to not miss any strange movements. ‘Let’s see what you can do’

Shen didn’t move, he was unaware of what was going on, still perplexed by the death of those two cultivators.

Grasping his sword, he didn’t feel its weight, the cold metal chilling his bones or the microscopic protrusions that hurt him like spikes. It felt like he was carrying nothing.

He could have imagined being pierced by Meng Hua’s swords, and his pain would die with it, but he didn’t take it.

He didn’t understand why Meng Hua wanted his sword, and it didn’t seem like it would matter if he just gave it to him without fighting. Shen threw aside the pain and discomfort and immersed himself in the situation.

‘If I strike first he will use the blade with the longest reach to parry and at the same time attack with the smaller one, or maybe the opposite? I'm not sure... If I let him get too close he can render my sword useless and kill me, I won’t be able to react due to the short distance. If I had the same cultivation level, maybe I could outmatch him in speed and avoid his attacks, but as it stands… I lose’

He didn’t want to bet on that move Zhu Gong had taught him, but it was his only chance of getting out alive. Even then, he could feel from Meng Hua’s aura that it was unlikely for him to die or become severely injured.

If he wanted to win, he would have to trick him, but that was easier said than done. Meng Hua watched him carefully, not allowing a single opening to be exploited. He was already five meters from Shen and he didn’t look pressed for time as he slowly approached his opponent.

After a few more seconds, Meng Hua closed in for his first strike.

- Wait! – shouted Shen, forcing Meng Hua to stop and jump back hastily, but he held doubt in his eyes.

Due to Shen’s condition, his voice came out as forced and clumsy, and Meng Hua thought he had been hurt somewhere. He quickly surveyed his surroundings and Shen’s, but he looked normal to him. ‘So it was all a front, huh?’ he thought, annoyed.

It wasn’t uncommon to see people talk big all the time and back down on the last moment, Shen was just one among many. ‘Thinking about it, it’s only obvious. You know you have no chance of winning so you are admitting defeat to avoid your death… Unfortunately, the show has to go on. But ah! That person must be disappointed, I have to make him fight for a little bit’

- What? Are you scared now? – He asked disdainfully, but didn’t leave any opening in his stance as he slowly approached.

- I surrender. I never intended to fight you anyway, you can have my sword. I didn’t think you would really go for it – he explained while kowtowing once and maintaining his distance.

Watching Shen’s actions, the majority of the crowd that stood there, silently, got mixed feelings. Some of them were people after Shen’s sword and his humiliation felt like their humiliation, but it couldn’t be avoided – none of them could face Meng Hua either.

Meng Hua’s reaction at Shen’s sudden display of weakness made him laugh without regards for the people watching.

- Pft, hehe… AHAHAHAHAHA! Hehehe… Oh, sorry, sorry. That was just too funny, hehe… - Meng Hua wiped his teary eyes as he stared at the back of Shen’s neck - Alright, I understand. In fact, I don’t blame you at all! I would probably do the same thing if I was in your situation, but... The thing is… I don’t care if you surrender.

Shen tilted his head upwards and stared directly into the young man’s eyes. Meng Hua returned the gaze, he wanted to confirm the existence of fear in Shen’s eyes, but among fear, anxiety, pain and many other feelings, he could only recognize there was something wrong going on with him.

- What? You still want to go on? We don’t have any reason to fight anymore. I clearly can’t win against you. We both have nothing to gain from this, why continue? – He asked in a tone showing disbelief.

- See from my point of view. If we stop here, you live and I get no benefits. If we continue and you die, there’s a chance I may receive the gift, and you can’t kill me at all. Since I have nothing to lose, might as well continue!

Meng Hua let another wicked laugh seep in the air and pointed his sword to Shen’s head. He had no use from his sword, but it could be exchanged for another, more suited for his style. Maybe he would even get two.

Shen trembled slightly and curled both of his hands into fists, roughly scratching the fog underneath. Meng Hua patiently waited for him to act.

‘Come on, show me your best move. I did my part, now read the script and do yours!’

After less than three seconds, Shen’s body moved like the wind as he threw a handful of dirt at Meng Hua’s eyes and quickly contorted his body in preparation for the blow.

Meng Hua watched him intently and, although he didn’t know how Shen had managed to get his hands on that patch of dirt, he reacted fast enough to avoid it and get out of his reach.

‘So that was your plan huh… Not bad. Now let’s see what your actual attack is’

At a safe distance, Meng Hua saw the strange movements of evil Qi aligning to the blade. He found it quite strange that Shen had managed to last this long while controlling it, silently praising his proficiency with Qi manipulation and his Qi reserves. Like the girl who died, he shared the same thoughts.

‘Sadly, it comes at the cost of power. Too bad you chose to be a sword cultivator’

In his perspective, had Shen trained something else, it would be his loss. Not knowing about the shadow’s arms was very misleading.

Regardless, even if it looked easy, he couldn’t risk it. With the amount of rotational force it was building up, it was certain to deal a devastating blow if he were not to take it seriously, and even with his body reinforced with qi, it would still deal a good amount of damage if he was hit.

He took these fractions of seconds to break down the path of Shen’s blade and create a good path to deal with him in one blow.

Meng Hua instantly closed in on Shen and took the strike without fear. He had poured most of his qi into reinforcing his chest area where the sword was aimed at, it was simply impossible to change the trajectory of the blade in the middle of the technique and Meng Hua aimed for perfection in that battle. If he let it hit without proper coating on his muscles, it would take a long time to recover.

Shen had remembered the time he lost his arms. He was doing well, just like before, but there was something very strange with his arms.

On the first pulse, his grip was so firm that he felt like the blade was just another muscle he hadn’t used before, he didn’t know if it was just the pain overriding his senses or the sword that held nothing to the touch.

He clenched his teeth for the second pulse, but it didn’t hold any resemblance to how he felt before. His hands were firmly planted on the blade, he couldn’t feel the pain – or at least, it wasn’t greater than what he was dealing with.

The third pulse. He didn’t know where he had failed last time, and he didn’t want to fail a second time, but there was no fear of losing anything – rather, there was expectancy that his pain would vanish for a second.

He had to let go of the sword, it had to lead him to the bitter end, but he couldn’t just stay still. He wasn’t Zhu Gong, his body didn’t work the same way, and one thing he had learned by reading the books was that spirit veins were not something as simple and scientific as an array of characteristics. There were many things yet to be unveiled, and for that, he could only trust his instincts, what his body told him to do.

He finally understood that the sword was not to be treated as a tool. It was an extension of his body.

He didn’t have to let it go, just so he could follow it. With the force of Qi, they walked side by side.

He moved along with his sword on a straight line. It was a single step, but if he had looked behind, he wouldn’t know what had happened.

Shen felt the tip of his blade connect with Meng Hua’s chest. It didn’t penetrate too deeply, however.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the long blade inches from him while the short blade was too far away to do anything.

Shen looked at the place Meng Hua was stepping in, waiting for the moment he would tilt his body slightly to maximize the reach of his blade.

‘Just a little more… A little bit more, and…’

When he saw Meng Hua’s center of balance was a little further ahead of his body, he compensated his lack of speed with an early move, letting himself fall down in an arch.

Meng Hua stared at him suspiciously. His long blade wouldn’t reach Shen’s neck by a hair’s breadth and it was too late to change directions. He questioned why Shen had done such a useless move, but his actions were faster than his thoughts.

‘No matter, you’ve just delayed your death by a few fractions of seconds. I’ll put the weight in my other side and kill you with the short sword!’ Thinking like this, he acted quickly and was about to let his blade fall down on Shen.

At that critical moment, Meng Hua lost all strength on his limbs and fell flat on the fog, a sword craved between the upper side of his spinal cord and his throat.

That was it. Meng Hua’s mind was completely shut and all the Qi that previously coated his body quickly flowed back. The trajectories of both of his blades were stopped and Shen rolled to the side to avoid getting hit by the two swords.

Even those of higher cultivation levels couldn’t understand what had happened. Even after watching it with their very eyes, they still couldn’t believe Shen would be capable of pulling off such a devastating trap in an open place.

Meng Hua had died.

After he pulled his sword from Meng Hua’s corpse, Shen fell down with no getting up. He felt his legs wobbly all over and he couldn’t feel as much pain as before, but he wasn’t relieved, his mind laid elsewhere.

While everyone was staring at Shen with many different looks: adoration, hatred, indifference, recognition, interest, the man himself was staring at the one whom he had just killed.

Meng Hua’s face was turned up to him. He imagined that Ling’s victim had died with the same expression, the last one she had shown before falling to the ground. He had that enrapturing smile that, for those who knew him, was the typical expression of when he was half a step from his objectives.

Meng Hua wanted to kill him. That was the only thing Shen could think of, and he repeated it time and time again, trying to convince himself that it was a good enough reason for killing him in retaliation. It was a legitimate defense.

Right or wrong, those things didn’t matter.

Shen stared at the hole in his Meng Hua’s throat. Most of it had already formed a small pool beneath his chest. Previously, to return his sword, he changed the position of his body and a lot of blood got stuck into him. It was warm at first, it dampened his clothes and with time became cold, and not as fast as when Meng Hua’s eyes lost color.

The sword was stuck in his back. It was a long blade, and it went all the way through his spinal cord.

The disciples watched along with Shen as the fog swallowed the corpse slowly, leaving no vestige of Meng Hua’s existence. The sword fell once it went completely underground; there was not a drop of blood on it.

He killed a human.

***

The number of people who understood what happened was twenty one. Chi Zheng was one of them, of course, and the other twenty were all instructors, with trained eyes and knowledge of their surroundings.

- Senior Peng, what was that? – asked Ling, curious. He had nothing but sympathy for Shen, and didn’t say a word when he left the court, stumbling. If he was as Ling had imagined, then there was nothing more to be said.

"May I?" She communicated with Chi Zheng.

"By all means, little Yin, by all means…" he relayed, savoring every bit of the story yet to be told. Fun things were meant to be shared with everyone, and he wouldn’t keep such a juicy piece of information only to himself.

The disciples drew closer to listen to her tale.

- When he shouted for Meng Hua to wait, it took him by surprise. As careful as he was, his first action was to fall back and reassess the situation. Taking advantage of this, Shen took a small step to where that other girl died, her sword was still there. Later, he buried it underneath the fog when kowtowing and used one long strand of hair from her head, tying it to his feet with Qi. It is difficult to hide something like that, so he slipped out strands of his own hair to complete the link. About two thirds of his inner reserves were used for that. The following attack was a mere fake, but it had to be done well to fool Meng Hua, thus why he threw the dirt and poured the remaining of his Qi into it. It was risky, he barely managed to complete the technique.

Shen walked to the place Shen was rooted to and pulled the sword from the fog. The hair had already fallen underneath, but the body was exactly there.

- Meng Hua did not know it was possible to enter the fog. It’s not so hard. When people die here, they always fall into it naturally, but no one thought of going down. There’s no reason to, in most scenarios. Another thing that people forget is that this island is not made of fog, it’s intuitive if you look at the outskirts from high up, as I’m sure you’ve all seen when you came here. There’s ground below, and Meng Hua had ignored this important clue. It could be said that he had too much faith in Shen’s abilities. The rest you already know. Meng Hua could’ve attacked him from many different angles, including from above, but the risks were a bit higher compared to what he chose to do… He didn’t expect the second sword.

Chi Zheng grinned from ear to ear. ‘Ahhh, that was so fun to watch!’ He was shameless and calculating, and cared only for the win, and he thought Shen was exactly like him in that aspect.

Few people were capable of discarding emotions and other thoughts and bet all on a plan unlikely to succeed. Shen’s plan held too many variables, and if even one of them went beyond his estimates, he would die.

Among many possible flaws, if Meng Hua’s body didn’t reach the expected position and shape, Shen wouldn’t get such a neat strike and kill him instantly – even if Meng Hua died half a second later, his blade would still hit Shen and wound him, possibly killing him.

It was a pity that Meng Hua had died, he was quite promising, but that was not the first time an aspiring genius died young, it happened every time.

Chi Zheng stared at Shen from a long distance away. He was curious as to what the young man was thinking, and what he would bring out to the future. He thought that many interesting things would happen around him, and he was eager for the next battles.

Meanwhile, he looked at Wang Fan, who also left towards the quarters, trembling.

‘Wang, huh… Your ancestor would be proud if he knew that his bloodline had appeared again, after a thousand years’