The battlefield erupted into chaos.
Yinmo's movements felt sharper, impossibly fast. His body responded as if it had already trained for this moment—as if it had always belonged to something greater.
A pursuer lunged with a wind-infused slash, cutting across the night air.
Yinmo did not block. He redirected.
His footwork shifted, his arms twisted at the precise angle necessary to throw off the incoming force. It was not skill—it was instinct.
His opponent stumbled, shocked.
Another enemy attempted to ensnare him with wood magic, thick roots surging up from the earth to bind him in place.
But Yinmo felt it before it even formed.
With a flicker of unseen energy, his body moved before his mind fully processed it—slipping between the bindings, his frame adjusting as if guided by something beyond simple Qi manipulation.
And then—he struck back.
The darkness at his fingertips answered his call, spiraling outward.
For the briefest moment—his pursuers faltered.
Lianhua watched everything.
She saw how his attacks were too refined for a Qi Gathering cultivator.
She saw how his movements weren't borrowed techniques—but something inherent.
She saw the magic, felt the strangeness of it, and knew this was not normal.
And yet—Yinmo himself did not seem aware of the depth of what was happening.
This was not cultivation.
This was not natural progression.
This was something awakening.
As the battle raged, the world was already reacting.
The Father of All Demons received reports of the failed capture. A girl had slipped through his grasp—but worse, a strange force had appeared in battle, one that did not match his disciples' magic. His orders were clear: find the anomaly.
The Magical Beast Council gathered in secret, debating whether to send spies once more to the academies. The Taboo had stirred, but they did not yet know how or where.
Celestial Academy finalized its preparations for the arrival of its newest prodigies—Lei Xuan, Qingyu, Lianyun, Feng Tao, Heng Yi, and Lianhua—unaware that something beyond their comprehension had just taken root elsewhere.
And in the depths of the fading battle, Yinmo stood victorious.
Not by chance.
Not by luck.
But because, for the first time, his body had remembered what it was meant to be.
And the world would soon take notice.