The market buzzed louder than before.
Behind Rey, the store he had just left erupted into chaos. Raised voices. A sudden crowd. Guards pushing through.
None of it escaped his notice.
Neither did it escape the eyes of the spirits watching through him.
'Are they the ones causing the scene… the same people who chased me from my town all the way here?' Rey asked quietly, standing half-hidden within the flow of pedestrians.
"No," Aiden replied at once. "Those aren't the twenty. Different group. Likely another noble house stirring trouble. But don't relax. The real ones are still hovering over you like sirens."
Rey kept his expression neutral.
Any unnatural reaction would only alert the real watchers hiding behind the noise.
So he did the only smart thing.
He walked away.
To them, he was just another weak, harmless boy wandering the market. A kid buying weapons for the upcoming tournament. Someone not worth watching too closely.
Someone who had no idea he was being observed.
Rey drifted from stall to stall, deliberately avoiding a straight path. His original destination had been the katana, but going there directly now would be foolish.
Instead, he let the market guide him.
Most stalls sold beast materials. Stage 1 was common. Stage 2 was everywhere, but priced aggressively.
Stage 3 materials were already considered luxury goods. Their prices climbed into absurd territory, ten to fifteen million Dracins for a single usable piece.
Stage 4 materials were practically untouchable, reserved for Disciple-ranked warriors.
As for Stage 5…
Those were myths.
Stories whispered about beasts sleeping within the borders of kingdoms—legends with no proof. Creatures no one alive had ever truly seen.
While roaming, Rey decided to check the weapon he had just bought.
He slipped his dagger from its leather-wrapped cloth covering.
The blade caught the light.
Even without swinging it, he could feel the sharpness. The tip felt eager, as if it could tear through skin and muscle without resistance.
He opened the panel.
───◈◈◈───
Fangcurve Dagger
TIER: 0 | RANK: Peak Stage 1
TYPE: Dagger/Short Sword
DURABILITY: 140 / 140
───◈ Item Description ◈───
A dagger forged from the fangs and dense bone fragments of High-Grade Stage 1 beasts. Its blade is longer than standard daggers, subtly curved with a sharp, tapered point—nearly reaching short sword proportions while maintaining dagger agility.
The handle is carved with small grip holes to reduce slippage and improve control during thrusts. Though lacking ornamentation, the weapon's natural beast material grants it reliable sharpness and resilience, making it a practical tool for close combat and survival.
───◈ Item Effects◈───
➤ Slightly improves piercing damage against flesh-based targets.
➤ Reduces stamina consumption by 5% when used for repeated strikes.
───◈◈◈───
Rey had chosen it because it sat perfectly between a dagger and a short sword.
That balance attracted him.
The grip fit his hand naturally, firm without forcing tension. It felt right.
Next, he checked the bow.
───◈◈◈───
Boneflex Recurve Bow
TIER: 0 | RANK: Peak Stage 1
TYPE: Recurve Bow
DURABILITY: 160 / 160
RANGE: Effective up to 90-95 meters
───◈ Item Description ◈───
A recurve bow crafted from layered beast bone and sinew taken from High-Grade Stage 1 beasts. The limbs curve outward at the tips, storing greater tension and releasing arrows with sharper force despite its compact frame.
The grip is reinforced with polished bone ridges for steady handling, while the bowstring is woven from treated beast tendon, granting consistent draw strength. Simple in appearance, yet reliable, it excels in precision shots and sustained use during hunts or skirmishes.
───◈ Item Effect◈───
➤ Increases arrow velocity by 10%, improving penetration at mid-range.
➤ Reduces hand strain, lowering stamina cost by 5% when firing consecutively.
───◈◈◈───
It was the best compromise he could find.
Some bows had power but terrible draw comfort. Others had range but lacked strength. A few could shoot up to 140 or even 150 meters, but their grip and tension were unreliable.
This one sat in the middle.
Balanced. Stable. Trustworthy.
He didn't bother checking the arrows. That could wait.
Rey moved on and stopped at a shop displaying martial techniques.
Hope flickered.
Then died just as quickly.
Most techniques were locked behind exchanges. Beast materials. Rare resources. Things he didn't have anymore.
He even spotted a decent footwork art… and lost it the moment he realised it required a Stage 2 beast core.
Regret crept in.
Selling everything at once had been a mistake.
With no other option, Rey headed toward the Martial Mall beside the market. The real hub. The place where techniques, arts, and cultivation methods flowed endlessly.
The building was massive.
Inside, young people filled the halls, eyes burning with the same excitement and ambition he felt.
Rey found a wall map and quickly scanned it.
Footwork section.
Second floor.
That decided everything.
Right now, he needed movement. Speed control. Something to mask his true physical capabilities, especially while relying on the bow.
He climbed to the second floor.
Martial artists wandered between displays, comparing techniques and arguing quietly.
Rey approached an attendant who had just finished helping another customer.
"Excuse me," Rey said politely. "I'm new here. Could you help me find a footwork art?"
The attendant studied him calmly. His face. His weapons. The way they were openly carried instead of stored away.
"Of course, sir. What's your budget? Cultivation level? Spiritual root and grade?"
Rey hesitated.
"Ah… I'm not a martial artist yet. I don't even know my spiritual root. I need something that works without energy support. Grade one or two, if possible."
The man frowned slightly, then nodded.
"That narrows things, but it's not impossible. We don't test spiritual roots here, but I'll find something adaptable. Please wait."
He walked away.
Rey blended back into the crowd.
People glanced at him more than he liked.
He could feel it.
His body had been changing lately. Every level up reshaped him subtly. Not bulky. Not flashy.
A sleeper build.
Dense muscle packed tightly beneath the skin. Strength without outward exaggeration.
For a moment, worry surfaced. What if he turned into some hulking brute?
Aiden shut that thought down immediately.
Strength wasn't about size. It was about balance. Control. Efficiency.
And Rey's path was shaping exactly that.
The attendant returned.
Dragging a large dust-covered box.
He didn't even hold it close.
"Umm… what is this thing?"
Rey took a step back as the box hit the floor, dust bursting upward before slowly settling.
The attendant coughed lightly and scratched his head.
"Oh, this?" he said. "When you mentioned an art that works without Qi, I remembered something."
He glanced around, then lowered his voice slightly, as if sharing an embarrassment.
"A few weeks ago, my manager ordered me to clear out the storage. Old waste books. Stuff no one ever touched. While throwing them away, I found this box."
He tapped it lightly.
"Inside were ancient arts. Different types. Footwork. Elemental manifestation. Physical enhancement. Even mental techniques. But they were too old. Most of the words were destroyed, half the pages unreadable. Still… I managed to recover parts of them with some effort."
Rey's interest sharpened.
"They were created by experts from the past," the attendant continued. "When I showed them to my manager, he told me to throw them away. Trash, he said."
A faint regret crossed the man's face.
"But I'm a martial arts enthusiast. I tried studying them myself. Tried practising them."
He shook his head.
"They can't be used. Every single one of them has a problem."
Rey's eyes narrowed slightly."What kind of problem?"
"They're easy to understand. Easy to memorise. But when I followed the energy circulation… nothing happened. No response at all. Only the portions that didn't require energy worked. Everything else was useless."
He opened the wire binding around the box.
"Eventually, I gave up. The tournament crowds kept me busy, so I just left them here. But maybe… they can help you in some way."
Inside the box lay eight books, neatly arranged despite their age.
Rey lifted one.
The exterior was badly worn. No title. No markings. The material itself wasn't paper, yet it wasn't leather either. Thick. Strange. Almost fibrous.
He had never seen anything like it.
"They feel… off," Rey murmured internally.
"Hoh," Aiden's voice appeared beside him, unexpectedly interested. "It's been a while since I've seen books like these."
Rey didn't move, only listened.
"They're made from the bark of a special tree. Preserved using multiple liquids to extend their lifespan. Without that, these would've turned to dust centuries ago."
'So they're valuable?' Rey asked silently. 'But he said they're defective.'
Aiden paused.
"So how do you even read these?" Rey asked the attendant aloud. "I can't understand a single word."
"Oh, that part?" The man smiled faintly. "I found that strange, too. A friend of mine studies lost historical languages. He confirmed it's from around three to four centuries ago. He helped me decode it."
He pointed inside the box.
"I wrote translated copies and placed them in each book. Thought they might be useful someday."
Rey flipped through them.
Translated pages were indeed there.
The techniques themselves looked… simple. Straightforward. No exaggerated complexity. No mystical descriptions. Just instructions and movements.
He closed the book slowly.
'Aiden. Should I buy them?' Rey asked internally. 'Do they have any worth left, or are they truly waste?'
"Hmmm," Aiden said. "They're all trash in this world."
Rey nodded inwardly. 'Then I won't—'
A sharp pain hit the back of his head.
"Idiot," Aiden snapped. "Listen properly. Trash in this world. Not for you."
Rey froze.
'But I live in this world.'
"Yes," Aiden replied calmly. "But with us, you no longer belong solely to it. These aren't Qi-based techniques. They're mana techniques. Old ones. From a time before Qi dominated everything."
A pause.
"In my opinion… aside from you, no one alive can use these."
Rey's lips curled upward.
The attendant noticed the grin and looked puzzled. To him, these were nothing but tattered books.
"Sir," he said cautiously, "if you find them helpful, I'll just throw away the rest. It'll be troublesome if my manager sees them still here."
He reached for the books.
Rey grabbed his wrist.
The air went silent.
Realising himself, Rey released his grip immediately.
"…Can you sell me all of them?" Rey said quickly. "Every book. I think they'll help me."
The attendant blinked.
"Well… they're trash for the mall anyway. You don't need to pay."
"No." Rey shook his head. "I won't take them for free."
The man hesitated, then sighed. "Alright. Two thousand Dragon Points will do."
Rey transferred the amount instantly.
The attendant's eyes widened.
"Sir! You paid five thousand! I said two thousand!"
"You helped me," Rey replied simply. "Money is the only way I can express that."
The attendant stared at him as Rey gathered all eight books.
People begged for discounts.
This one paid extra.
As Rey left the floor, the attendant could only watch in stunned silence, wondering what kind of person he had just met.
Meanwhile, Rey stored the books away.
"That's the last thing," he muttered internally. "Now the katana."
Then his expression darkened.
"But these fools tailing me…"
Buying too many techniques would draw attention. Enough suspicion, and stronger spies would appear. Apprentices he could handle.
Above that?
Running would be his only option.
And that would endanger his family.
He slowed his steps, thoughts racing.
Then he felt it.
The faint layer of technique aura cloaking his presence.
With his skills, he could reclaim it instantly.
A plan formed.
Rey moved toward the busiest lane in the market. Crowds thickened. Noise rose. Bodies pressed close.
He circled once.
Twice.
Then—
In a matter of seconds…
He vanished.
Panic erupted among the hidden watchers.
He had been there. Right there.
They never took their eyes off him.
Yet he was gone.
As if swallowed whole.
While the spies tore through lane after lane in growing fear, Rey was already walking calmly toward the smithy.
Toward his katana.
Their only shared thought echoed in silent terror.
Where did he go?