Lin Shu stepped out of the rented chamber after cleaning every trace of blood and thunder away. The worker standing nearby gave him a curious look and asked, "Is your teacher alright? I heard the sounds coming from inside… they were like powerful techniques."
Lin Shu answered calmly, "Yes he was just training so he's fine but he asked me to run an errand for him."
The worker chuckled and returned to his duties, never realizing the so-called teacher was nothing more than a corpse dissected and discarded in Lin Shu's private lab.
Leaving the building, Lin Shu wandered through Stormhold. The city's scale always loomed over him—its avenues wide and endless, its walls thick with the might of an empire. One of the empire's great cities, Stormhold was a place where merchants, soldiers, and cultivators crossed paths in tides too vast to measure.
As he moved through its crowded streets, Lin Shu's eyes lingered on a posting board guarded by soldiers in iron armor. Parchments fluttered across it, names and faces scrawled in ink. He froze when he saw them.
Vice Dean Lu Heng. His former superior, now branded a demonic cultivator.
His eyes narrowed. Alongside it were the faces of Yan Qing, Ren Hao, and then—his own.
One of the guards noticed where Lin Shu's gaze lingered. "I'd suggest you don't try your luck," the soldier said dryly. "These men might look your age, but you're nowhere near their strength. Best keep your distance, boy."
Lin Shu stiffened at first—then realized why. The sketch of him on the bounty poster was scarred across the mouth, neck, and cheek. After the Thunderforge Physique reforged his body, those scars were gone, his face restored. The soldier only gave him a half-hearted glance, and the resemblance wasn't close enough.
Suppressing his thoughts, Lin Shu forced a nervous smile and bowed slightly. "Thank you, sir." He left quickly, keeping up the act of a fearful youth.
But inside, his mind churned. If the empire itself was hunting him, then information was vital. And in Stormhold, he already knew where to find it.
He spotted them after a few turns through the alleys—blue lanterns glowing faintly in the dark, the same secret signs he had once followed in Cloudrest City. After crafting a simple bone mask with his Ivory Dominion, he stepped through the marked door.
The hall within was dim, quiet, crowded only with veiled attendants. Lin Shu paid for a low-tier token, enough for entry to the first floor—the floor of information. He walked past a row of shadowed rooms until he found one with an open door. Inside was a single chair and a wall drilled with small holes.
"Customer, please have a seat," a voice said from the other side.
Lin Shu sat.
"What would you like to ask?" the voice continued smoothly. "Before you decide, let me say this—many things have happened in the empire recently. Whether you've heard them or not, I can tell you far more."
Lin Shu's tone was even. "Such as?"
"Let's begin with the greatest matter—the appearance of a demonic beast."
Lin Shu's expression flickered, though he remained silent. Such beasts had not appeared openly in at least a century. He had always suspected some might have emerged in secret, but the fact that the news had reached even the underworld meant the truth could no longer be buried.
The man behind the wall seemed to sense his restrained reaction and pressed on. "It did not appear on its own. A vice dean of an institute brought it forth, together with another cultivator—the patriarch of the Jiang Clan."
Lin Shu's silence urged him to continue.
"It began months ago. The Jiang Clan and the Stone Path Hall Institute—where Vice Dean Lu Heng served—declared war against each other. Everyone thought it was over an azure crystal mine. But that was only a cover. In truth, it was to awaken a demonic beast and harness its power.they killed the demonic beast and took it's corpse with them after they managed to run away from the dean of the stone path hall and an ex general of the empire and after running away the Jiang patriarch was tracked to his clan. The patriarch of the Jiang Clan Jiang Wuyu then attempted the ritual—he slaughtered his entire clan, wives, children, all of them—to fuel it. But he was stopped before completing it. Zhao Tianxue, one of the empire's generals, executed him personally."
The voice lowered. "Lu Heng, however, escaped. And now, both the empire and the mighty sects are hunting him."
Lin Shu sat in silence, though his heart pounded with restrained emotion.
"So that's why," he muttered to himself. "That's why my bounty is this high."
The man behind the wall did not hear, but Lin Shu understood now. Nearly killing Han Yi had made him a fugitive of his institute. But being tied to Lu Heng's name, marked as a potential conspirator in demonic cultivation? That was enough for the empire itself to set his price at twenty thousand gold coins in case he was he was truly someone who helped lu heng.
He hadn't been able to read Lu Heng's bounty in full—he'd had to leave too quickly—but the truth was already clear.
The empire wanted them erased.
Lin Shu pressed for more details about the matter, but the voice behind the wall grew curt. His allotted time had run out, and anything deeper than what he had already been told belonged to the lower floors. Access there required a mid-tier token—and the price for one was steep.
He knew his current wealth couldn't handle it. Spending more gold would draw too much attention and leave him short of what he needed for survival. For now, he would have to live with fragments of the truth.
Leaving the hall, Lin Shu stepped back into the alley and walked until the blue lanterns faded behind him. His path wound through Stormhold's crowded streets until the towering Palelight Gate loomed ahead—the grand northern exit of the city.
As he waited in the long line of travelers and merchants to leave, his thoughts grew sharp and cold.
Joining an institute or a sect was no longer an option. Even if he hid his identity perfectly, someone would eventually dig into his past. And once they connected him to Lu Heng or the events at Stone Path Hall, no amount of excuses would save him. The empire branded men guilty long before it listened to their pleas.
And even if he proved innocent, Lu Zhenhai—the dean who treasured Han Yi like his own daughter—would never forgive him. For the attempt on Han Yi's life alone, Lin Shu's head was worth a fortune.
Better to remain unbound. No banners. No sects. No ties.
Only his own power.
Lin Shu left Stormhold under a curtain of rain, his pace swift, his figure a blur down the winding mountain road. The storm pressed against him, but every drop that struck his skin only seemed to stoke the restlessness gnawing in his chest. His hands twitched with an itch he could no longer ignore.
He wanted to fight.
He wanted to test his limits.
He wanted to know how far this new body could carry him.
Abandoning the paved road, Lin Shu cut into the drenched forest spreading beneath the Lightning Peak Ranges. The trees swayed violently, thunder rolling in the distance as if the heavens themselves were daring him to move forward.
And so he did.
Beasts fell before him like grass before the scythe. Low-stage creatures died in seconds, their cores wrenched free and stored without slowing his stride. A few mid-stage beasts attempted to bar his way, but they were torn apart just as quickly—fangs shattered, hides split, their corpses left twitching as sparks crawled across their charred wounds.
None of them were enough.
Then the ground trembled. A high-stage wolf emerged from the shadows, massive and broad-shouldered, its eyes glinting like molten gold. Around it padded a dozen lesser wolves—its newly formed pack.
Lin Shu's lips curved into a smile.
"Thunderbolt Fists."
Lightning surged across both his arms, arcs coiling into his clenched fists. He charged.
The high-stage wolf retreated behind its pack, letting the lesser beasts strike first. One lunged and sank its fangs into Lin Shu's arm. Blood sprayed—yet Lin Shu did not slow. His momentum smashed the wolf into the mud, spine cracking. Another leapt from the side, only to be swatted midair, its body flung like a broken doll into the trees.
The leader hesitated. It could feel the storm burning in his veins.
Lin Shu gave it no time. He closed the distance in a blink, seizing its massive jaw in one hand. Bones snapped under his grip, thunder detonating at the same instant. The wolf howled, lightning searing its throat, but Lin Shu only dragged it closer.
His fist crashed through its stomach. Flesh tore, bone cracked, organs ruptured. He released the caged lightning within his arm—the wolf's insides exploded outward in a storm of gore.
With a guttural snarl, Lin Shu ripped the beast in two, its blood steaming as it mingled with the rain.
He stood over the corpse, breathing steady, and thought coldly: I didn't even need the Thunderbolt Fists. I could've killed it just as easily bare-handed.
His gaze dropped to his hands. Before, whenever I used this technique, burns scorched my skin. Even with my Ivory Monolith armor, repeated use left my hands fractured and raw. Without it, they would have broken entirely. But now…
The faintest red marks sizzled across his knuckles, fading in seconds as his flesh knitted back together. Now I only suffer scratches. Even my healing surpasses what my Burning Vein Art once gave me.
A low laugh rumbled in his chest. So those techniques—my healing art, my movement steps, my self-made combat art—they're all useless now. My body's natural speed surpasses Lightning Steps Footwork. My recovery eclipses Burning Vein Healing. Even Thunderbolt Fists adds nothing to my strength. Only Thunderbolt Arc remains worthwhile, because I still lack long-range power. And Ivory Dominion…
His clawed gauntlet of bone slid out from his hand with a hiss, arcs of lightning dancing across its edge. He flexed his grip, watching the light coil around ivory. Ivory Dominion has grown with me. Stronger. Sharper. It thrives in this storm.
He clenched his fist, the corpse of the wolf steaming at his feet. I am certain now—I can endure a peak-tier technique. Perhaps two. Perhaps even three.
The rain poured harder, but Lin Shu's eyes burned with quiet certainty. The Burning Vein Healing Art is worthless to me. I'll sell it when the chance comes. Thunderbolt Arc, I'll keep—though I cannot trade it even if I wished. Without the manuscript, there's no way to pass it on. The Qi-script used by sects and clans binds their secrets tightly. Only personal training could ever pass such a technique down.
He exhaled, long and steady, the storm crackling faintly across his skin.
Lin Shu had slaughtered his way through the forest, and yet his hunger for battle only sharpened.