Right then, Rune knew.This man was no ordinary wanderer.
He kept his expression unreadable and didn't answer immediately. The silence stretched between them until Rune finally asked, "Then what should I do?"
The man didn't answer the question directly. Instead, he leaned back in his chair and said, "You can't kill him. One punch, and you're probably dead. Although… he might hold back because he is—"
"It's fine," Rune cut in, voice flat. "I'll do it myself."
He pushed the doors open without hesitation.
"Hey, stop!" the man barked, standing up.
But it was too late. The moment the doors swung wide, more than twenty cultivators surged forward from the street, weapons flashing in the sunlight. Their combined Qi crashed into the inn like a tidal wave.
Rune reacted instantly. His hands transformed, forearms reshaping into sleek conduits of magic. He fired his magic bullets in rapid bursts—each shot screaming through the air with lethal precision. Several attackers fell, clutching wounds, but many moved with unnerving speed, weaving through the barrage.
Two came from the left, three from the rooftop above. Rune's boots slammed into the ground, and a stone golem erupted beneath him, lifting him high into the air. From atop its shoulders, he rained fire down on the cultivators. The golem joined in, swinging its massive arms like siege hammers, scattering men like broken dolls.
In less than a minute, the street was quiet again. Smoke and dust hung heavy, drifting over the bodies.
Rune leapt down from the golem's back and walked past the carnage.
The man in the trench coat remained by the doorway, expression unchanged… except for the faintest hint of a smile.
As Rune stepped away from the inn, the man raised two fingers. Something flicked through the air faster than even Rune's bullets.
Instinct roared in Rune's mind—danger.
His body twisted, hand snapping up. He caught the object mid-flight.
It wasn't a bullet, nor any condensed Qi. He opened his palm and examined it—a small artifact, metallic yet strange in shape, its surface engraved with tiny, unfamiliar patterns. It looked almost like a key… though not one meant for any lock he'd ever seen.
Rune looked back at the man. Neither of them said a word. They simply turned and went their separate ways.
Meanwhile, Karin's days were consumed by training and her study of life and death.
The guardian had told her the truth: if she wanted even the faintest chance to open the path she sought, she would have to reach the True Soul Realm and master the Heavenly Demon's first and most secret technique—Heavenly Death Palm.
That technique could open the Door.
Even the sect's second-in-command didn't know it; the Heavenly Demon techniques were passed only to true heirs. The manual containing them was locked away, and only the guardian herself could open the sealed chamber that held it.
News of Isshin's death had already spread far beyond the sect. At the Academy, whispers replaced lectures, and Khalid remained deep in his seclusion, untouched by the chaos. The Zeldyr clan, upon hearing the news, celebrated in their own quiet way. Isshin was no longer their problem.
One night, Karin wandered to the cliffs behind the Heavenly Demon Castle.
The wind swept across the jagged stone, carrying only silence with it. She sat near the edge, staring up at the night sky. Stars blinked faintly above her, but her thoughts were far heavier.
She thought of her life since joining the academy—of the battles, the failures, and the people she'd lost. She blamed herself for not being strong enough, for always needing others to protect her.
She knew, deep down, that reviving the dead was impossible. But she clung to the delusion anyway, desperate to prove herself wrong even if the world said it couldn't be done.
Her hands trembled. Her chest ached.
And then—stone cracked beneath her.
The cliff's edge gave way with a sharp, splitting sound.
She gasped as her body dropped, catching the ledge with both hands at the last possible moment. Her legs dangled in open air. The ocean churned far below, black under the moonlight.
Her fingers ached as she searched for any foothold or outcropping. But there was nothing. She was already twenty meters below the top.
Then—something caught her eye.
Carved into the cliffside below the castle, partially hidden by shadow and crashing spray, was the dark mouth of a cave.
Her pulse quickened. She had studied the sect's grounds, memorized every record she could find… yet never once had she read about a cave beneath the Heavenly Demon Sect.
And now she was staring right at it.