In a world divided by ancient sects, dragon bloodlines, and forgotten wars, the strong ascend through flame, blood, and inheritance. But what if your soul carries nothing? No clan, no system, no teacher—just silence?

Beneath the frozen tombs of the Northern Ashen Lands, a nameless man awakens.

He has no memory, no cultivation, no past… yet his hands move with impossible mastery, and his heartbeat echoes with a power long erased from the world—the Hollow Pulse.

Reborn into the shattered Hollow Realms, where four great regions war beneath the shadow of the Void Root, Jin Mu-Won begins a journey unlike any other. With every life-and-death battle, he unlocks pieces of forgotten incarnations, scattered Echo Fragments of thousands of lives lived—and died—across time.

But the deeper he walks the Path of the Hollow, the more the truth unravels:
He once stood at the peak of the world.
He once broke it.
And now, it is remembering him.

The embers had faded. The snow returned.


But something had shifted in the valley.


Jin Mu-Won stood at the edge of the Cloudstep courtyard as Wen Dai, the one-armed elder, slowly carved a fresh set of footprints into the ash-laced snow. He carried no weapon, only a bamboo staff worn smooth by decades of use.


"You fought like one who never forgot pain," Wen Dai said quietly.


Jin didn't answer. He adjusted the broken sword on his shoulder. The metal rang faintly against the wind—like a bell missing its chime.


"Will you rebuild Cloudstep?" Jin finally asked.


"No. But I can leave behind a place for someone else to return to."


He stopped near the cracked meditation stone where the founder's name was once etched—now unreadable.


"I once knew a technique," the old man said, kneeling.


"It wasn't powerful. It wasn't fast. But it made people look up, even in the middle of war."


🕊️ Cloudstep Footwork – Crane Without Wing


He gripped the bamboo staff like a sword.


"This was passed down to the founder by a dancer—not a warrior. She called it the One-Armed Crane Form."


One leg swept low, the other lifted, a spiraling arc that curved with the wind.


The elder moved like someone who had forgotten pain—but remembered grace.


Each step was incomplete. Each motion interrupted. And yet, it flowed—beautiful in its imperfection.


"I created my own version," Wen Dai said, stopping mid-flow, panting slightly. "It's not pretty anymore. But it's mine."


[Technique Witnessed: One-Armed Crane Form – Founder Variant]


Not combat-efficient alone, but can be grafted onto movement techniques.


Hollow Pulse reacts: Movement fused with memory.


Jin stepped beside him and mirrored the motion.


The Hollow Pulse stirred—not in force, but in balance.


"You… You're not mimicking it. You're remembering it."


"I've seen something like it before… in another life, I think."


"Then remember it well. Because when you meet your next enemy, they won't expect you to dance."


📜 Later That Night – Outside the Ruins


The horizon stretched ahead—southward, toward the border where reports of sect gatherings, rebel alliances, and dragon cultists were beginning to spread.


"Old Cloudstep scripture. Half of it is burned. The rest… is just footwork and poetry. But maybe there's something in it your memory can chew on."


"Don't thank me. I'm already dead in the records of this world."


He turned and hobbled back toward the ruined gates.


Jin took one final look at the remains of the Cloudstep Sect.


The wind carried rumors past Jin as he traveled:


A dragon cult stirring in the Eastern Skywaters.


A mysterious masked monk stealing sect manuals—without touching them.


A gathering of beast clans in the Southern Wetlands.


Chapter 10 - The One-Armed Crane