The night in the sect was silent. Jace sat cross-legged in his quarters, his breathing slow, his body faintly trembling from the energy swirling inside him. The system window hovered before his eyes, its glowing letters pressing down like chains.
The words carved themselves into his mind. Seven days left.
His hands clenched. That's insane… seven days?
Even geniuses took months to prepare for a realm leap. His veins were already stretched thin by the power of the Elite Dragon Spirit he devoured. He could feel cracks forming every time he drew breath.
But the system didn't care.
Jace let out a shaky laugh, more bitter than amused. "You really want to push me to the edge, don't you? Fine. Then I'll push back."
He had already begun skipping most classes. What was the point of sitting in a hall, listening to hollow teachings, when the system could carve perfect paths for him? Every wasted hour was a nail in his coffin now.
He rose, reaching for his blade, when—
Knock. Knock.
The sound struck like thunder in the silence. His heart tightened. His eyes flashed, golden light leaking for a breath before he forced it down.
The knock came again, softer.
"Jace," a voice said.
He froze. Veyra.
For a moment, he thought of pretending he wasn't there. But his hand betrayed him, sliding the door open a crack. She stood in the moonlight, her long dark hair brushing her shoulders, her eyes calm but piercing.
"You've been missing classes," she said flatly. "Even the elders have noticed. Do you want suspicion to fall on you?"
"I don't need them," he muttered.
Her brows knitted. "You think walking alone will protect you? You're wrong."
He met her eyes, voice low. "Why do you care?"
Veyra's lips pressed thin, but her gaze didn't falter. "Because I saw you in the trial. You fought when others fled. You saved me, remember? If you're going to lock yourself away now, then what was the point?"
The memory clawed into him—her scream, the shadow's grip, his blade cutting through the dark. He had acted without thought, and now here she was, throwing it back at him.
His throat tightened. He turned away, hiding the faint tremor in his hand. "I don't plan to stay weak. That's all."
Her voice softened. "Then don't vanish like a ghost."
For a long moment, silence lingered between them. Then Jace moved aside, letting her in. She stepped into the small chamber, eyes flicking across the scattered scrolls, the faint heat of spiritual energy pressing on the air.
"You're close," she said quietly, her gaze narrowing. "Your aura is… unstable. You're not just Foundation anymore, are you?"
Jace tensed. He poured water into a cup, avoiding her stare. "Keep it to yourself."
She studied him for a moment, then gave a faint nod. No more words. But her presence lingered, leaving behind an unspoken weight even after she finally left.
---
Far away, in a cavern reeking of blood and shadow—
The Nine Shadows Sect gathered around a crimson pool. Faint screams echoed from within it, the sound of heirs whose blood had already been drained.
"The last raid failed," a cloaked leader growled. "Too many heirs slipped through. But the ones we captured are proving useful."
Another shadow chuckled. "Their bloodlines feed the puppets. The Saint Hall boy we drained alone gave us a hundred."
The leader's tone sharpened. "The next strike must be flawless. The barrier weakens. With the spy inside feeding us openings, we will soon take more heirs. Their clans will bleed from within."
A follower leaned forward. "What of the missing Red Dragon Prince?"
Silence. Then the leader's lips curled. "If he truly lives, he will appear. And when he does… his blood will burn brighter than all the rest."
Low laughter echoed, cruel and cold.
---
Back in his chamber, Jace sat cross-legged once more. The door closed, the silence returned, but Veyra's words lingered in his chest.
The system chimed again.
[Task Updated: Breakthrough to Soul Phase Realm – 6 days, 23 hours remaining.]
[Sub-Quest: Master the First Movement of your Sword Technique. Reward: Dragon Essence Fragment.]
The glowing letters stabbed into him. His time was already ticking down.
He pulled the sword scroll closer, unrolling the inked diagrams. His blade rested across his knees, his breathing slow but heavy.
He whispered, voice cold yet steady. "If the world wants me broken, I'll rise higher than it can reach."
His eyes shut, focus tightening into a blade of its own. There would be no rest, no more wasted moments. For seven days, he would fight against time itself.
And far away, the Nine Shadows Sect sharpened their knives, ready to strike again.