Shen Tian's Sharingan activated.
Two tomoe spun.
The world slowed.
He saw the beast's muscles coil
The angle of its leap
The point of impact it aimed for
He stepped aside.
The beast crashed into the ground where he stood.
Chen Hao thrust his Qi-infused palm forward, striking the creature's flank. The beast howled, but instead of retreating, it turned toward Shen Tian.
Its killing intent locked onto him.
Shen Tian exhaled.
He grabbed a broken branch from the ground. It was rough, uneven—barely a weapon.
But under the Sharingan's gaze, every flaw in the beast's stance was visible.
The beast pounced.
Shen Tian moved.
He stabbed the branch upward, piercing the creature's throat at the exact moment it exposed its weakness. The beast collapsed instantly, its body twitching before going still.
Silence consumed the forest.
The disciples stared, unable to speak.
He killed it.
With a stick.
Without Qi.
Chen Hao's face twisted.
"You just got lucky."
Shen Tian met his glare calmly.
"No. You just do not understand the nature of fear."
Chen Hao lunged, seizing Shen Tian by the collar.
"Say that again."
Shen Tian's eyes sharpened.
He did not raise a hand. He did not resist.
But two tomoe spun faster.
Chen Hao froze.
Pressure—silent, invisible—wrapped around him like chains. His breath hitched. His heart raced. His instincts screamed.
He let go.
Stumbled back.
Eyes wide.
"What… was that?"
Shen Tian looked at him.
"You felt fear. Not because I attacked you, but because your soul understood something your mind refuses to accept."
He stepped forward.
"I don't need Qi to kill."
Chen Hao trembled, but refused to retreat further.
"You won't always have a stick."
Shen Tian's voice remained calm, almost bored.
"And you won't always have excuses."
Before Chen Hao could retort, the ground shook violently.
A roar exploded through the mist.
The forest trembled.
Every disciple turned pale.
"That… isn't a normal beast."
Shen Tian's Sharingan spun violently, responding before his mind did.
He saw something.
Eyes in the mist
Watching
Waiting
The true threat had just awakened.
The fog rippled like a living creature as the roar died out, leaving a suffocating silence in its wake. Every disciple stiffened, gripping weapons with trembling hands.
Chen Hao swallowed hard.
"That sound… it wasn't a low-ranked beast."
Shen Tian didn't answer. His eyes were already scanning the mist. The Sharingan spun, its tomoe rotating slowly, absorbing every movement, every shift in air.
Then he saw it—
Not the creature itself, but its intention.
A murderous presence slithered around them, silent yet crushing. Shen Tian's heartbeat slowed, and his pupils sharpened as a faint outline emerged from the fog.
A beast unlike any Shen Tian had encountered.
It crawled forward on elongated limbs, its skin mottled with scars and protruding bones. Its head resembled a wolf, but its jaw was too wide, teeth too long, and its eyes—
Its eyes gleamed with sentience.
A mutated spirit beast.
Chen Hao's voice cracked.
"A Nightmare Fanged Howler! But those should only appear near the inner borders—why is it here?!"
The beast opened its maw, and an unearthly howl exploded forth. Soundwaves rippled through the air, shaking trees and shattering stones nearby.
Two disciples collapsed instantly, blood dripping from their noses and ears.
Chen Hao's eyes widened with horror.
"Sound-based soul attacks—block your ears!"
But Shen Tian didn't move to cover his ears.
He stepped forward.
The Howler's gaze snapped toward him, recognizing the only one who didn't respond with fear.
Shen Tian narrowed his eyes.
Fear was a choice. He had lived through death before. He would not bow to a beast.
The creature lunged.
Shen Tian inhaled.
Two tomoe spun.
The world slowed to a crawl.
He could see the vibration in the creature's throat
The moment its muscles contracted
The exact angle its claws would swipe
But this time, something else appeared—
A faint line of crimson threading from the beast's heart to the ground.
A weakness.
A path to death.
His breath tightened.
This wasn't mere prediction.
It was judgment.
He moved.
The beast slashed downward with terrifying force. Shen Tian ducked beneath it, his hand closing around a fragment of a broken blade lying on the ground.
It was chipped, rusted, and nearly useless—
Yet under the Sharingan, every imperfection became a weapon.
He stepped into the creature's blind spot.
The beast twisted unnaturally to follow him, jaw widening to bite—
Shen Tian's voice whispered softly.
"Too slow."
The broken blade flashed.
He drove it upward into the crimson line he saw—straight through the spirit beast's throat.
The Howler froze.
Its howl died in silence.
Its eyes widened.
Its throat tore as Shen Tian twisted the blade, severing something vital. A geyser of dark blood erupted, splattering across the stones.
The Howler collapsed, twitching for a moment before going still.
Dead.
No Qi.
No technique.
Only clarity.
The disciples stared, pale and shaking.
"He killed it…"
"With a junk blade…"
"That… isn't human."
Shen Tian stood over the corpse, his breathing unshaken.
His hands, however, trembled.
Not from fear—
But from understanding.
He had not killed by instinct this time.
This kill was intentional.
Chosen.
Chen Hao stared at Shen Tian, his face drained of color.
"H-how did you know where to strike?"
Shen Tian flicked the blood from the blade.
"I saw it."
Chen Hao frowned.
"Saw what?"
Shen Tian looked directly into his eyes.
"The end."
Chen Hao staggered back, unable to meet his gaze.
The other disciples looked at Shen Tian as though he had become something else entirely—neither human nor beast.
Then a sound broke the silence—
The rustling of robes.
A figure floated down from the treetops, landing with boundless grace.
Elder Bai.
He surveyed the corpse, eyes narrowing.
"So it was a Nightmare Fanged Howler. You should not have survived."
His gaze shifted to Shen Tian.
"Yet you did. And you killed it."
His expression didn't reveal judgment, only calculation.
"That confirms it. Your eyes are evolving."
Shen Tian's breath caught.
Chen Hao looked horrified.
"Elder… his eyes—"
Elder Bai raised a hand, silencing him.
"Report this mission's success. Bring the corpse for appraisal."
Then, lowering his voice so only Shen Tian could hear:
"The more you kill, the more your eyes open."
He leaned closer.
"But remember—every eye that opens must one day close."
Shen Tian's heart tightened, but he did not flinch.
He was no longer running from this power.
He was walking toward it, step by step.
Whether to master it…
Or be devoured by it.
By the time Shen Tian and the others returned to Azure Cloud Sect, word of the Nightmare Fanged Howler had already spread like wildfire. Outer disciples stood clustered along the pathways, whispering in disbelief.
"A Nightmare Howler? Those beasts are as strong as mid-stage Qi Refinement warriors!"
"And they brought the corpse back?"
"No, not they…"
All eyes shifted toward Shen Tian as he walked past them.
"He did."
Some were awestruck
Some terrified
Others jealous
Fear and fascination always grew strongest around the unknown.
Elder Bai led Shen Tian and Chen Hao toward the central appraisal hall, where the Howler's body was offered to Sect examiners. After giving his report, Chen Hao left quickly, refusing to look Shen Tian in the eye.
His pride had been crushed, his certainty shattered.
Shen Tian left the hall soon after, expecting solitude. But fate rarely granted him that luxury.
A young disciple approached, bowing respectfully.
"Shen Tian, Elder Mu requests your presence at the Inner Study Pavilion."
Shen Tian frowned.
Elder Mu?
He was known for being one of the sect's most eccentric teachers—reclusive, brilliant, and unpredictable. Rumors claimed he only accepted disciples marked by fate.
Shen Tian followed.
The pavilion was far from the outer quarters, nestled beside a tranquil lake where lotus flowers floated like drifting clouds. A faint scent of incense hung in the air.
Inside, Elder Mu awaited.
He was an old man robed in green, his gray beard long enough to touch his waist. But his eyes—calm, unblinking, almost amused—felt as if they saw straight through Shen Tian's soul.
"You arrived," Elder Mu said, not as greeting, but as fact.
Shen Tian bowed slightly.
"You called for me."
Elder Mu nodded.
"I heard you killed a Nightmare Howler without Qi."
Shen Tian did not answer.
Elder Mu chuckled.
"Do not worry. I am not here to dissect your secrets. I am here to give you direction."
He gestured to a jade tablet lying on the table beside him. Symbols rippled across its surface like flowing water.
"This is a perception cultivation manual. It is not intended for Qi users. It is for… anomalies."
Shen Tian stared at him.
"You knew about disciples like me?"
Elder Mu tapped the side of his nose.
"There have always been those who walk paths outside the world's rules. The sect fears them, the heavens suppress them, and fate seeks to erase them."
His eyes sharpened.
"But those who survive… redefine the world."
Shen Tian reached for the jade tablet, but Elder Mu grabbed his wrist—not harshly, but firmly enough to stop him.
"Be warned. Once you walk this path, there is no return. You will see truths others cannot, and truths have weight."
Shen Tian held his gaze.
"My eyes have already opened."
Elder Mu smiled faintly.
"Then let them see."
He released him.
As Shen Tian took the jade tablet, a pulse surged into his palm—like a heartbeat not his own.
Elder Mu turned away and spoke without looking back.
"Begin cultivating tonight. Your mind must strengthen, or your eyes will tear it apart."
Shen Tian bowed once more and left.
Night fell again.
The sect grew quiet.
But not everyone slept peacefully.
Shen Tian sat cross-legged in his room, jade tablet before him. He placed his hand atop it, and the symbols dissolved into his consciousness like ink soaking into paper.
His mind expanded.
He felt his awareness stretch, not outward into space, but inward—into thoughts, memories, perception itself.
He began to understand:
His cultivation was not about Qi.
It was about awareness.
Focus became strength
Insight became power
Perception became sword
As he sank deeper into the trance, his Sharingan pulsed, lightly at first, then harder.
A new symbol flickered behind his eyelids.
And that was when he sensed it—
Killing intent.
Shen Tian opened his eyes.
The window was open.
Wind blew softly.
But the silhouette in the corner was unmistakable.
A masked figure stepped forward, dagger glinting in the moonlight.
His voice was cold.
"You should have died in the Mistwood."
Shen Tian rose slowly, eyes glowing crimson.
Two tomoe spun into perfect circles.
The assassin froze as if struck.
His dagger trembled.
Shen Tian's voice was quiet, yet colder than steel.
"Your choices brought you here."
The assassin lunged.
Shen Tian moved.
He did not dodge.
He did not retreat.
He stepped into the dagger's path, fingers brushing the assassin's wrist—not with strength, but with precision.
The blade dropped.
The assassin gasped.
Shen Tian whispered:
"I see your end."
The assassin's eyes widened—