Mu Fan held his gaze.
What he saw in Li Yan's eyes wasn't arrogance. It was clarity—an old, tempered certainty that didn't belong to someone their age. Not someone who had lived an ordinary life.
And it left Mu Fan shaken in a way he couldn't admit.
Mu Fan leaned back after a long silence, his posture finally easing. "You're not easy to understand, Junior Brother Li," he said. "But I can respect that."
Li Yan cupped his hands. "Thank you, Senior Brother."
"…But." A faint smile tugged at Mu Fan's lips. "Don't expect me to accept defeat so easily. I was curious what kind of person could beat my record without me even knowing who he was."
"And now that you know?" Li Yan asked.
Mu Fan's gaze sharpened. "Now I know what to prepare for."
Li Yan chuckled softly. "Good. I look forward to seeing you try."
The rain thundered outside, but the silence in the cave shifted—no longer thick with tension, but shaped by something else.
Rivalry.
Respect.
And the beginning of a far more interesting dynamic than either had anticipated.
Their conversation tapered off. Stillness settled between them—taut, like a bowstring drawn and left unreleased.
Another hour passed.
The rain weakened, then stopped altogether. Clouds broke apart into streaks of grey and red as the sun slipped toward the horizon. Long shadows stretched across the valley, and the cave dimmed as the night fell.
As the final rays vanished behind the mountain ridge, Mu Fan sat near the cave wall, eyes half-closed in thought.
Li Yan, however, moved.
He rose, brushed off his robes, and began fastening his belt. He checked his sword, adjusted his sheath, and tapped his storage ring. Every motion was efficient—habitual. A man preparing for another hunt, not rest.
Mu Fan blinked, frowning. "You're leaving now?"
Li Yan glanced over his shoulder. "Yes. Rain stopped, and I don't waste time, Senior Brother."
"But night already falls," Mu Fan said, pushing himself to his feet. "Even Tier-1 beasts act differently after sunset. Are you sure it's wise?"
Li Yan looked toward the dark cave mouth, then back at Mu Fan. A faint smile curved his lips—quiet confidence, nothing more.
"Thanks for your concerns, but I always hunt like this. Day or night—it makes no difference to me."
"That's reckless," Mu Fan muttered.
Li Yan walked toward the entrance, stopping just before the shadows swallowed him. "Not for me."
He glanced back, his expression calm, yet his eyes carried a sharpness that cut through the dim light.
"This Tier-1 Hunting Ground isn't dangerous for me anymore," he said, voice low.
"In fact…" A subtle smirk touched his lips. "I'm more dangerous than anything else still wandering in this Tier-1 Hunting Ground."
Mu Fan's breath hitched. The words held no bravado—only fact, spoken with the ease of someone stating the weather.
Li Yan cupped his hands once more. "Thank you for the shelter, Senior Brother Mu. Until next time."
And then he stepped out of the cave, disappearing into the wet underbrush without looking back.
Mu Fan did not move immediately. He stared at the space Li Yan had just vacated, a faint chill crawling up his spine—not from the night air, but from the lingering weight of Li Yan's presence.
"He's… not normal."
Despite his higher cultivation, Mu Fan couldn't shake the feeling that Li Yan wasn't someone who realms or rankings could judge. There was something else—something colder, deeper, and far more unsettling.
"So that's how he earned those scores… He hunts without rest. Day and night. Without hesitation."
The cave felt colder now, as if Li Yan's absence had left a pressure that refused to fade.
"He's not just a disciple who climbed the leaderboard quickly," Mu Fan thought, fist clenched. "He's a predator. Quiet. Calculated. Relentless."
A shiver ran through him—not fear, but the grim realization that a predator had passed him by… and chosen not to strike.
"What kind of monster did the sect just recruit?"
Another thought surfaced, sharp and unwelcome.
"If I'm going to reclaim the top, I need to stop being comfortable in the daylight."
Outside, the valley plunged into darkness. And even then, Mu Fan felt Li Yan's words echoing through the silent cave: I'm more dangerous than anything else still wandering in this Tier-1 Hunting Ground.
____
The moon hung low behind drifting clouds, casting pale streaks of silver across the valley. Night muffled every sound; only the soft crunch of leaves under Li Yan's boots and the distant rustle of beasts stirred the air.
Most disciples avoided hunting after dark. Li Yan moved through it as if it belonged to him.
His Spiritual Sense swept a thirty-meter radius around him, mapping every movement before it even reached his ears. Every step was deliberate—every strike—clean, lethal.
A clawed Tier-1 beast lunged from the thicket, fangs bared. It caught nothing but air. Li Yan had already glided aside, sword snapping upward in a darkness-infused arc.
Slash!
The beast collapsed, its core already in his hand before its body hit the soil.
He left the corpses where they fell—bait for the next wave.
He didn't stop.
Hours dissolved into one another as beasts fell one after another, guided into range by his Spiritual Sense. The darkness was no hindrance; sight was simply slower.
He hadn't seen Mu Fan again—not that he expected to—but he had crossed paths with other White Rank disciples. Some stared, unsettled. Others hid in the shadows, trying to measure him.
He ignored them all.
Between hunts, he gathered herbs he once overlooked. With the herbalism knowledge etched into his mind, every leaf and root was instantly recognizable—ingredients for Qi recovery pills, wound salves, detox brews. Basic, yes, but fundamental.
By the afternoon of the fourth day, Li Yan stood atop a jagged rock, breath steady despite the dried blood crusting his robe.
Before him lay the final beast—its body twitching weakly from the strike that ended it. The valley stank of iron and scorched fur.
"Target completed," he murmured.
A gleaming core emerged from the beast's body. Li Yan flicked it into his storage ring. His shoulder ached faintly from restless combat, but a small smirk touched his lips.
"One more step toward the goal. Two hundred seventy-three out of a thousand Tier-1 cores."
A cool breeze swept across the valley, ruffling his long purple hair as he surveyed the now-quiet clearing.
Li Yan channeled his Qi outward to clean his clothes; the blood, dust, and dirt faded as if they had never been there in the first place.
He was preparing to store the fallen beasts when his Spiritual Sense flared.
Three figures had just entered his range—moving fast.
Li Yan's eyes narrowed. One aura was stronger than his; the other two were at Qi Gathering Realm (Stage-6).
He made no sudden moves, choosing not to reveal urgency by storing the corpses.
Moments later, three disciples in white robes emerged from the foliage. Their eyes swept the carnage, and smug satisfaction flashed on their faces.
One Stage-6 disciple snorted. "Boss, looks like we were wrong. It's just one guy—not a team."
The second Stage-6 frowned. "But the energy fluctuations earlier… it felt like an entire group was fighting."
Their leader—cultivation a stage higher than Li Yan's—chuckled lazily. "Even better, then."
All three burst into mocking laughter, relaxed and confident, as if fortune had handed them a gift.
Li Yan merely shook his head. "Elder Ji did say resource snatching is allowed," he murmured.
The leader's laughter faded when he noticed Li Yan's lack of reaction. His smirk sharpened into a sneer.
"Take out everything from your storage ring and leave," he ordered. "Otherwise, you're not walking away intact."
Li Yan's gaze lifted to meet his—calm as still water, yet carrying a chill that sliced deeper than blades.
"Turn around and leave," Li Yan said softly. "Otherwise, you'll regret making the wrong decision."
The words weren't loud. They didn't need to be. They drifted into the air like falling knives—silent, cold, and final.
The leader's smirk faltered for a heartbeat before he masked it with a scoff. "Oh? That confidence… is that before or after you hand over your belongings?"
He stepped forward, puffed up by his superior cultivation. "You think you can handle three of us alone?"
He chuckled as if Li Yan had said something amusing.
Li Yan simply watched them, unblinking, silent.
Then he sighed. "Some people only learn through pain."
"Alright, then." The leader lifted his chin. "I'll make it simple. I'll count to three. You drop your ring and kneel—"
Li Yan tilted his head, voice dripping with idle curiosity. "Do all three of you share the same brain cell, or just him?"
Silence crashed over the clearing.
The two lackeys blinked. The leader's face twitched.
Li Yan exhaled softly, disappointed. "You sensed all this carnage and still thought I was the easy one."
He stepped forward—not fast, simply one step—and the air shifted, as though the forest itself held its breath.
"Tell you what," he murmured, letting his killing intent seep out just enough to stir the leaves. "You don't need to count to three. Just… count your bones. While you still have them."
Before the leader could react, Li Yan moved.
His figure blurred—like a shadow breaking through light—
BOOM!
A thunderous impact rang out as Li Yan's fist slammed into the chest of one Stage-6 disciple.
The man flew backward like a rag doll, crashing through a thick tree trunk with a sickening crack before dropping to the ground, blood spraying from his lips.
The second Stage-6 disciple barely registered the sound before Li Yan appeared in front of him.
His eyes widened. "Wai—!"
CRACK!
Li Yan's knee plunged into his abdomen, folding him like paper. Ribs shattered.
Li Yan caught him by the collar mid-collapse and hurled him upward.
As the disciple fell—
WHAM!
A spinning kick rammed into his spine, slamming him into the earth.
CRACK.
Motionless—but alive.
Only a breath had passed.
The leader stared, stunned. His two subordinates—flattened in an instant.
"You—"
BOOM!
Li Yan's palm struck forward, a shockwave of dark Qi blasting the leader backward, skidding him across the ground. Dust exploded around him as he barely managed to stabilize himself.
"You damn brat!" he roared, summoning his weapon—a silver spear crackling with energy. "You dare defy me?!"
Li Yan stood unmoving, expression cool. "I don't just dare," he said. "I do."
The leader wiped blood from his lip. "You think you've won because you beat those two? Don't get cocky!"
He lunged, spear flashing with lethal precision. His cultivation was higher, his movements sharp—but anger dulled him.
Li Yan shifted aside, letting the spear glide harmlessly past. His hand shot out, gripping the shaft and yanking it sideways.
The leader staggered. In that instant, Li Yan's elbow smashed into his ribs.
CRACK!
The leader coughed blood, gritting his teeth as he infused darkness Qi into the spear. The weapon pulsed, its shadowy edge extending beyond its normal reach.
SWISH!
Li Yan tilted just out of range—a strand of hair drifting down.
"Interesting."
The leader sneered. "I've trained hard, brat! Let's see you handle this!"
Without warning, he dissolved into the shadows.
Li Yan's gaze narrowed. "Shadow Melding Technique."
A spear tip lunged from the darkness, aiming for his heart.
CLANG!
Li Yan twisted, deflecting with his bracer. The impact rippled through his arm.
The leader vanished again.
Whoosh!
A strike came from behind. Li Yan sidestepped, unleashing his Superior-Level Darkness Qi. The shadows around the leader's spear twisted—revolting against him.
"Wha—?!"
The leader stumbled as his own technique faltered. For the first time, doubt flashed across the leader's eyes.
BOOM!
Li Yan surged forward, knee driving into his ribs.
CRACK!
The man gagged on blood. Li Yan seized the spear as his grip faltered, spinning it once in his palm.
"Decent weapon," he murmured. "Shame you couldn't use it."
"You—!"
The spear flipped neatly in his grasp.
THWACK!
The wooden back smashed into the leader's gut, folding him. Before he could drop, Li Yan swung again, striking his shoulder and sending him crashing to the ground.
THUD!
Silence.
The forest had gone utterly still.
Li Yan stood over the three groaning disciples, his shadow drawn long beneath the golden sunlight.
He tossed the spear aside, metal ringing against stone.
"Next time," he said quietly, "pick your prey with more brain than brawn."
Without another glance, he stored the beast corpses and walked away—steps calm, composed, unhurried.
Behind him, only pained whimpers remained.
Some monsters don't hunt in packs. They are the calamity.
Li Yan continued toward the sect.