Yue Rin saw his anger swallow what little caution he had left, and she found a thin thread of courage in it. An enemy who fought with emotions was an enemy who made mistakes.
He came at her with a wild, desperate swing.
She sidestepped, then let Needle Draw flash.
Her sword cut across his right leg in a clean line.
The cut was not deep, but it was placed well. Tendon and muscle complained at once. His leg gave out, and the cultivator stumbled, pitching forward and landing face-first in the dirt.
He groaned and turned his head, just enough to look up.
Yue Rin walked toward him at an unhurried pace.
In that instant, all his pride collapsed. His left hand slid behind his back, fingers creeping toward his pockets as he forced his voice into something respectful.
"Esteemed senior, wait. This lowly one has made a grave mistake by disrespecting you. If you spare me, I can offer everything I have!"
Yue Rin blinked, almost thrown off by how shamelessly he folded.
Weren't villains supposed to spit blood and swear they would rather die than bow?
…Well. If he wanted to save her trouble, she would not argue.
She lifted her chin, pride swelling despite the blood drying at her neck.
"Well, if you know to kowtow three ti-"
A sudden smirk crossed his face seeing her fall for it.
"You really think you're that good?" His voice sharpened, spite surfacing like poison. "Remember my name. I, Kang Shuo, will repay an eye for an eye."
Before Yue Rin could even inhale, light flared around him before he vanished.
She stood there, dumbfounded.
For a heartbeat, if someone had drawn a question mark above her hood, it would have fit perfectly.
Then the realization hit.
"He actually crushed it and ran!" she snapped, scandalized. "That bastard has no pride whatsoever!"
The righteous outrage came easily, as if she had not been planning to run herself moments ago.
"And what was that last line like I didn't just defeat him one on one… wait." Her stomach sank. "Oh no."
Wasn't that what villains said right before they crawled into some dark cave, fall into the demonic path before becoming powerful, then return to ruin the protagonist's life?
Except Yue Rin was not the protagonist.
If he truly came back like that, she might be finished.
…Then again, she had just escaped death by less than a hair. Wasn't that main-character material?
Yue Rin's thoughts ran in circles. But if she was truly one, where was her op system? Her heaven-defying physique? The old monster in a ring? She had lived a painfully mundane life for almost four years without anything noteworthy happening.
As her mind spiraled, her body finally realized the danger had passed. The adrenaline that had kept her upright began to drain away.
The pain in her neck snapped her back to reality.
Yue Rin sucked in a breath, reached up, and felt fresh dampness against her fingers. She swallowed hard, then shook her head as if she could shake the foolish thoughts loose.
First things first. Treat the wound.
She glanced around and picked a nearby patch of trees for cover. As she headed toward it, a different scene was unfolding beyond the secret realm.
* * * *
"Why is it always us who get the boring work?"
Song Qi dragged his broom along the ground before the sect's outer gate, sweeping dust that never seemed to end.
Beside him, Duan Ming snorted. "We only entered the sect last year. Of course they'll make us carry the dirty work. Don't worry, when recruitment season soon arrives, we'll be the ones passing it down to the newcomers."
Before Song Qi could answer, a scream ripped through the woods nearby, where their third companion had gone to relieve himself.
"AHHH!"
Neither of them hesitated. They grabbed their swords and ran toward the sound.
They found Qiao Sen shaking near a tree, one hand braced against the trunk, the other pointing with a trembling finger.
"D-dead," he stammered. "C-corpse. It's a corpse!"
Song Qi and Duan Ming followed his finger.
A man lay on the ground with his belt loosened, pants half-unfastened, his face twisted in a horror that had frozen there. He looked like he had died mid-breath.
Song Qi felt a chill crawl up his spine.
Duan Ming's expression tightened, but he stayed steadier than Qiao Sen. He glanced at the trembling boy, then lowered his voice.
"Take him back to the others. Calm him down, then return."
Song Qi nodded quickly. "Yes."
He half-guided, half-dragged Qiao Sen away.
Duan Ming stayed.
He crouched a few steps away from the corpse, careful not to touch it. From where he stood, there were no wounds. No blood. No broken limbs. No signs of a struggle.
That was what made his skin prickle.
A technique should leave traces. When Qi is used, it disturbs the ambient flow, like cracking a mirror. The stronger the technique, the worse the fracture. Trying to hide it completely was like trying to piece the mirror back together until it looked untouched.
Duan Ming drew in a slow breath and began sensing the Qi around the area.
Nothing.
No disturbance. No lingering imprint.
His confusion deepened.
And this had happened close to the gate. If rogue cultivators had fought here, the senior disciples on duty would have stepped in long before things reached this point.
Footsteps returned behind him.
Song Qi came back alone, face still pale. "Should we bury him?"
He did not say it out of pity. More to clean the problem away. They were not powerful enough to burn a body to ash using fire yet, even if they wanted to.
Duan Ming didn't answer right away.
Song Qi frowned and added, rougher now. "He's just some rogue cultivator. Toss him in a shallow grave and move on so we can finish early and hurry back to eat."
Duan Ming's gaze stayed on the corpse, before finally speaking. "No, this is too unnatural. We need to report it to senior brother."
Song Qi opened his mouth, ready to argue, but the seriousness on Duan Ming's face made him swallow the words.
"…Alright. I'll go call him. You stay here and watch the body."
With that, Song Qi hurried back toward the sect.
Moments later, a cultivator descended on a flying sword, landing lightly beside Duan Ming. His robe was the inner disciples' cut, cleaner and finer than theirs, with pine-leaf embroidery along the edges and a darker sash at the waist.
Senior brother Lin Qiu looked at Duan Ming, then spoke in an impatient tone.
"Song Qi came running to me looking flustered, saying you found something abnormal. What is it?"
His eyes drifted to the corpse. Seeing the shabby clothes, a flicker of disdain crossed his face.
Just a dead rogue cultivator.
What was all the fuss?
Duan Ming kept his posture respectful. "Senior brother… don't you think this corpse is truly abnormal?"
Lin Qiu raised an eyebrow.
If Song Qi or Qiao Sen had called him, he might not have even come. But Duan Ming was sharp, and he had shown enough potential that Lin Qiu had been considering keeping an eye on him.
So Lin Qiu stepped closer.
As he did, Duan Ming spoke quickly, laying out what he had noticed: no wounds, no blood, no struggle, and no Qi disturbance at all.
Lin Qiu's expression slowly turned serious.
He released his Qi and shaped it into a translucent hand. The hand lifted the corpse and flipped him over.
The other side was the same. No injuries.
Lin Qiu's Qi-hand sharpened into a blade and drew a shallow cut on the man's arm.
Blood welled up.
Lin Qiu relaxed a fraction, then stiffened again at Duan Ming's next words.
"He has no shadow."
Duan Ming had only noticed once the body shifted into sunlight.
Lin Qiu's Qi-hand switched back into a grip and lifted the corpse again, dragging him fully into the light, moving him as if he were standing upright.
No shadow.
Lin Qiu moved him around again.
Still no shadow.
Lin Qiu had never heard of a person without a shadow. Not once. And not knowing did not stop him from understanding the seriousness of the current situation.
A smaller Qi-hand split off and searched the corpse's pockets. A few spirit stones tumbled out, along with some gold and silver coins.
Nothing else.
"No entry token," Lin Qiu murmured. "Either he never had one, which is unlikely since he climbed all the way up the mountain… or he did, and someone took it."
His eyes narrowed.
"Possibly the one who killed him."
Lin Qiu lowered the corpse back to the ground with care he hadn't shown at first.
Then he turned to Duan Ming.
"I'm informing master. Don't let anyone near the body, and don't let anyone near this area."
Duan Ming stood and bowed. "Understood."
Lin Qiu stepped onto his sword, already lifting off, and for a heartbeat a greedy thought crossed his mind: claim the discovery, take the credit.
But he crushed it immediately.
A short gain was nothing compared to a long gain.
With a flick of his sleeve, he shot toward the master's residence to report what they had found.