The silence did not break immediately. It spread. The first thing the attackers noticed was not movement but absence. The pressure in the air had already unsettled them, but now something else pressed harder—an emptiness where measurement should have been. They reached instinctively for their senses of the cultivation of the opponent.
There was nothing. They were unable to determine the cultivation level. One man tightened his grip on his sword until his knuckles whitened. Another took a half-step back without realising he had moved. A third glanced sideways, searching for confirmation in the posture of his companions—and found none. Their formation loosened, not through panic but through doubt.
Eyes flicked again and again toward the treeline. The Shadow Reaper stood there, unmoving. Its blade remained lowered. Its posture was neutral, almost relaxed. That made it more destructive.
