Later that night, as the moon rose high and the forest bathed in silver light, Nate finished his final cycle and collapsed onto the grass, panting. Jalen walked over and handed him a flask of spirit water.
"You're pushing yourself hard," he said.
"I want to reach the Pearl Realm," Nate replied, drinking deeply. "I want to earn the seventh technique."
Jalen nodded. "You will. But don't rush the wind. It moves at its own pace."
Nate smiled faintly. "I'm not rushing. I'm chasing. I want to be strong like Master." Then he pondered for a while and asked, "Just how strong are you anyway, Master?"
All this time he'd been training with Jalen, he was unable to sense Jalen's cultivation level—obviously because he was weaker. In fact, Nate believed that Jalen was some old monster, maybe not as strong as the elders in his family, who were Spirit Fusion Realm and Immortal Realm experts, but still powerful. As far as he knew, Jalen only possessed wind techniques, since that's what he taught him. Not that he'd ever seen Jalen use a move, except for that time he healed him—and he didn't even know how or what happened then.
Jalen didn't answer. Instead, he smirked faintly and said, "If you've got the energy to ask questions, you've got the energy to wash yourself too. You stink—just in case your nose stopped working."
Nate chuckled. "Alright, I won't pry any further, master."
But Jalen's expression shifted. His gaze turned toward the trees.
"I know you're here, so why don't you save me the trouble and come out?" Jalen said, which startled Nate. He was clueless—until a man in crimson robes, his aura heavy with earth qi, stepped forward. His presence warped the air around him. Nate's heart sank.
Elder Rodric.
A Spirit Fusion Realm cultivator of the Yale Clan. Not the highest-ranking elder, but respected—and dangerous.
Rodric's eyes narrowed as he studied Jalen. He'd received word from his great-grandson Lionel that Nate—whom the clan had practically written off as dead after being gone for weeks—was traveling with a stranger and had used an unknown spirit attack cultivation technique on his cousin Riley, knocking the boy unconscious. At first, Rodric didn't believe it. After all, Nate wasn't supposed to be able to use qi, and no one would dare go against the Yale family to help him recover.
But then, a scout Rodric had sent earlier that evening returned with confirmation: Nate was indeed cultivating—and had already reached the peak of the Sapphire Realm. To an elder, that level was nothing remarkable. But at Nate's age, and in such a short span of time, "miracle" was an understatement.
So Rodric came in person, determined to meet the mysterious and unreadable master of Nate, as described by the scout.
Imagine his shock when that person turned out to be a mere youth—eighteen years old—with an undetectable aura. Aura could be masked, yes. But age could not.
"Who are you, kid?" Rodric asked bluntly. "And why are you training this brat?"
Jalen didn't answer. Instead, he turned to Nate, who was visibly shaken.
"Don't worry," Jalen said softly. "As long as I'm here, no one will harm you again."
Nate nodded, but unease gnawed at him. Rodric wasn't just an elder—he was Yale blood. Disrespecting him had consequences.
"That's a bold claim," Rodric scoffed. "Do you even know who you're messing with? You helped Nate recover. Cute. You've got some skill. But clearly, you don't know the difference between heaven and earth."
Still, Jalen ignored him. He turned to Nate. "Let's leave. It's getting noisy."
This was the final straw. Elder Rodric's temper snapped. His peak Spirit Fusion Realm cultivation surged, and earth qi flooded the area, warping the ground beneath their feet.
"You insolent brat. Die!"
He lunged at Jalen, fury blazing in his eyes. But the moment he came within an inch of him—he froze.
His energy vanished.
His body split cleanly in half.
His face locked in a mask of disbelief, unable to comprehend how he had died.
Jalen was swift. With Luminous Veil Step, he moved at the speed of light. Then, usingLuminal Edge, the 13th technique of the Light Art—empowered by the Spirit Wind Art's fifth technique, Tornado Slash, fused throughThread Fusion—he struck at fifty percent of his strength.
Elder Rodric stood no chance.
Nate was dumbfounded, unable to believe what he had witnessed. Not that he'd seen anything—he had only felt it. First, a terrifying energy surged toward his master. Then, for a brief moment, an even greater pressure erupted from Jalen, one that made every hair on Nate's body stand on end. His skull went numb.
And then, the elder's body split in half.
A single strike. That's all it took for a respected elder of the Yale Clan to die.
Nate looked at his master with reverence—and fear.
Just who are you, master?
"Let's go, Nate," Jalen said, turning away and heading deeper into the forest—toward the region known for dangerous spirit beasts. If he stayed here, there was no doubt backup from the Yale family would come. And while he was strong, he wasn't strong enough to take on the entire Yale Clan while protecting Nate—especially if a Sage Realm expert were to appear.
Nate, who had been in a trance, shook it off and quickly followed behind his master.