The ridge opened into open land.
Li Yun stepped beyond the last boundary marker of the Black Crane Sect and felt the difference immediately. Sect formations thinned, then vanished altogether, leaving Qi to flow freely—wild, uneven, honest.
This was the world without rails.
He exhaled slowly.
So this is what it feels like.
A Land Without Shelter
The plains stretched wide and broken, scarred by old battles and abandoned cultivation sites. Cracked spirit veins surfaced here and there, leaking weak Qi into the air. Beasts roamed freely, but none approached him.
Not because they were weak.
Because they sensed weight.
Li Yun moved steadily, not hiding his aura, not flaunting it either. His Half-Step Foundation Establishment presence pressed outward like a deep current—subtle, but undeniable.
By noon, he found signs of human presence.
A ruined waystation.
Fresh.
The Cost of a Name
He arrived too late.
Five bodies lay scattered among shattered stone pillars, blood soaking into the dust. Cultivators—two Qi Condensation, three lower realm—cut down cleanly and efficiently.
No beasts.
No accident.
Execution.
Li Yun crouched, fingers brushing the ground.
Residual Qi patterns lingered—sharp, organized, practiced.
They were hunted.
A whisper of movement came from behind him.
"You're calm for someone who found a slaughter."
Li Yun didn't turn.
"You're careless for someone who thinks I didn't hear you."
Silence.
Then footsteps.
The Man Who Came for Confirmation
A cultivator stepped into view, tall and lean, carrying a long spear wrapped in cloth. His aura was restrained but heavy.
Foundation Establishment — Early Stage.
Not fully settled.
Like Li Yun—but cleaner.
"My name is Huo Sen," the man said. "I follow rumors."
Li Yun stood slowly.
"Then you're late."
Huo Sen smiled faintly.
"I came to see if they were true," he said. "A man without a sect. Without a leash."
Li Yun met his gaze.
"And now you've seen."
A Test Without Malice
Huo Sen did not attack.
Instead, he planted his spear into the ground.
"I won't fight you," he said. "Not yet."
Li Yun raised an eyebrow.
"Why come at all?"
Huo Sen's eyes sharpened.
"Because names are beginning to spread," he said. "And when they do, people like me need to decide whether to stand near you—or far away."
Li Yun considered him.
"Which will it be?"
Huo Sen smiled slightly.
"That depends."
He stepped back.
"Survive the next three months," Huo Sen said. "If you do, I'll seek you again."
Then he turned and walked away.
Li Yun watched him go.
So the world measures in time, he thought.
Pressure Multiplies
By nightfall, Li Yun felt it clearly.
Multiple directions.
Multiple intents.
Some curious.
Some hostile.
Some cautious.
Detached meant no gatekeepers.
Everyone could reach him now.
Li Yun sat beneath a broken stone arch and cultivated lightly, letting his Qi settle deep and heavy. His half-step realm held firm, responding smoothly even under distant pressure.
Good, he thought.
Let them feel it.
A Clash He Did Not Seek
The attack came at dawn.
Three figures moved together—fast, coordinated, silent. Their Qi flared simultaneously, techniques unfolding in practiced sequence.
Mercenaries.
Li Yun stood as they struck.
He didn't draw his blade.
He stepped forward.
The first attacker's technique collapsed as Li Yun's Qi pressed outward, destabilizing the formation. The second struck anyway, blade slicing toward Li Yun's throat.
Li Yun caught it.
Bare-handed.
The third froze.
Li Yun twisted.
Bone snapped.
The mercenary screamed.
Li Yun released him and turned.
"Leave," he said calmly.
Two fled.
One did not rise.
Li Yun exhaled slowly.
Blood soaked into the ground.
This will become common, he realized.
The Weight of Survival
As the sun rose higher, Li Yun walked on.
He did not seek conflict.
But he did not avoid it either.
Each encounter reinforced the same truth:
Half-step Foundation Establishment was enough to survive—but not enough to dominate.
Yet.
He needed time.
And time was something the world rarely granted freely.
The Sect Watches From Afar
Back within the Black Crane Sect, Elder Luo received reports.
"He's moving," the attendant said. "Outside our territory."
Elder Luo nodded.
"Good," he said. "Let the world polish him."
Elder Wei snorted softly.
"Or grind him down."
A Name Without Banner
By the third day, rumors solidified.
A cultivator who walked alone.
Who didn't flee Foundation Establishment pressure.
Who killed without spectacle.
They stopped using his name.
They began using a title.
The Unanchored Stone.
Li Yun heard it whispered by traders passing through a crossroads town.
He didn't correct them.
Names had weight.
And weight could be used.
A Quiet Resolve
That night, Li Yun stood beneath an open sky, stars scattered like fractures across the dark.
He closed his eyes and circulated Qi once.
Smooth.
Dense.
Obedient.
Foundation Establishment no longer felt distant.
But he didn't rush.
Stone learned patience by enduring storms.
He opened his eyes.
Three months, he thought.
Let's see who remains standing.