Sheo lay on the soft grass of the forest, panting, his breath shallow and uneven. His chest rose and fell slowly as the exhaustion of battle finally caught up to him. Nearby, the massive tiger he had just defeat-ed lay motionless, its blue fur glinting faintly under the sunlight that pierced through the treetops. The beast's ocean-blue eyes were now dull, lifeless.
A faint chime echoed in the air—ding—and a trans-lucent notification appeared before Sheo's eyes:
[Accumulation Complete]
He blinked slowly, sweat dripping from his brow. His body was tired, but his mind was alert. A wave of realization washed over him—the space around him, this secluded part of the forest, was now con-nected to his inner space. The process had finished.
Still, he didn't retrieve it immediately. Instead, he let his body rest for a moment longer.
After catching his breath, Sheo sat up and reached toward the beast. He extracted the large, glowing beast core with practiced ease and carefully placed it into his storage ring.
Just as he was about to leave the clearing, Nisach's voice echoed inside his head, low and mysterious as always.
"Do you know what Shadow Puppetry is?"
Sheo paused mid-step and turned slightly, raising an eyebrow.
"No," he said plainly.
Nisach didn't waste time.
"Do you want to harness the life energy of this beast?"
That question made Sheo's eyes shoot open. He turned fully now, more curious than cautious.
"Wait... you mean there's a technique that can ex-tract a being's life energy?"
A low chuckle followed.
"Of course there is," Nisach replied. "There are mul-tiple types of gene tablets. Most royal descendants are lucky to possess even a normal one. But yours..." Nisach's voice trailed for a moment, as if examining something invisible. "Your gene tablet is on a whole other level."
Sheo looked down at his palm, then at the faint blue light flickering around his storage ring.
"So this one... is special?" he muttered.
"Special?" Nisach scoffed. "I've seen many—natural and artificial—but none hold the capabilities that yours does. This level of compatibility... this refine-ment... it's only possible if you carry the purest blood of your lineage. And it's not surprising."
There was a pause. Then Nisach added in a strangely calm tone:
"Because she picked you for a reason."
Sheo stiffened.
"She?" he asked quickly. "Who is 'she'?"
"No point in you knowing yet," Nisach answered curtly, then shifted the conversation. "Now do what I say."
Without waiting for further argument, Nisach began describing a strange, foreign technique.
Sheo listened, his brows furrowed, but he followed the steps one by one. He traced several seals mid-air. The energy responded. Circles of light began to ro-tate around the tiger's corpse.
Suddenly, a faint spirit—barely visible—hovered above the beast.
Nisach whispered quietly to himself, a rare note of surprise in his voice.
"He did it in the first try… What is this talent?"
Then another notification appeared:
[New Technique Registered: Shadow Puppetry]
A prompt followed:
[Do you wish to:
(1) Create Puppet
(2) Harness Life Gene Energy]
Sheo stared for a moment, considering. His eyes nar-rowed.
"Accumulate," he said finally.
With that command, the faint spirit above the tiger dispersed, fading into particles of light. A deep blue core remained behind, pulsing softly, and floated in-to Sheo's open palm.
He studied the core for a moment, then flicked his hand. A puppet appeared before him—the same one he had retrieved from Parth's dungeon. Though inac-tive until now, it stood still like a silent soldier.
Sheo slowly guided the deep blue core into the pup-pet's chest. The moment the core settled in, a bril-liant burst of energy exploded from the puppet's body.
The ground trembled.
Dark clouds began to form above the treetops.
The puppet's aura surged.
Its power rose, crossed Saint Level 9, and broke into Emperor Level 1.
Sheo's eyes widened. It was his first time witnessing this phenomenon.
"A ritual," he muttered.
But before he could even attempt to comprehend it further, Nisach's voice pierced through urgently.
"Master, move out of here! This ritual will target eve-ryone in its area!"
Without a second thought, Sheo summoned his De-stroyer Wings. With a flash, his body shot backward, far away from the puppet's evolving core.
Then, the sky roared.
Bolts of lightning descended, crackling with fury. They struck the puppet relentlessly—thunderclaps echoed across the forest. Each strike aimed not to destroy, but to refine.
It was nature's retaliation… and its blessing.
Finally, the dark clouds began to scatter.
The puppet stood unharmed, but transformed. Its frame was sturdier. Its energy was no longer errat-ic—it was now a true Emperor Level 1 artifact.
Sheo smiled, flicked his fingers again, and the pup-pet vanished into his folding space.
Another ace up his sleeve.
Turning back toward the 7 Life Tree, Sheo took a deep breath.
"So, Mr. Genius..." he muttered, "what next?"
Nisach responded immediately.
"I'm giving you a technique. Understand it. But don't use it until you completely master it."
A wave of complex information entered Sheo's mind. His eyes twitched. A sudden jolt of shock froze him mid-breath.
"This isn't just a technique..." he whispered. "It's a method to... separate soul from body..."
The very thought of it chilled him to the core.
He sat down and began studying it carefully. Minutes passed.
Then confusion crept onto his face.
"Are you sure this technique is correct?"
"What do you mean?" Nisach asked, puzzled.
Sheo sighed.
"The technique is near perfect, but no matter how precise you are, the user can never achieve true har-mony between body and soul using this. There's a fatal imbalance."
A moment of silence followed. Then Nisach spoke, stunned.
"You… can see that?"
"Yes," Sheo replied. "And it explains why the entire Soul Manipulators organization was wiped out, right?"
"Correct."
Nisach confirmed it solemnly.
"This was their greatest pride… and their downfall."
Sheo fell silent. He glanced back at the method, ana-lyzing its flow, considering ways to stabilize the en-ergy between soul and vessel. Minutes turned to hours.
Just when he was about to give up, a random thought flickered across his mind:
"I wonder... can my gene tablet refine techniques too?"
And as if the tablet heard him—
[Technique Refining: Initiated]
A searing pain struck his mind.
His body collapsed.
He lost consciousness on the forest floor.
But even as he lay helpless, he could feel it—data, symbols, meanings—streaming into his tablet. Hours passed. Then a day. Then two.
Finally, Sheo's eyes flickered open.
He gasped and quickly checked his gene tablet. As the interface lit up, his jaw nearly dropped.
Sheo's fingers trembled slightly as he looked at the glowing tablet interface before him. His vision was still adjusting after two full days of unconsciousness, but the words on the screen were unmistakable:
[Technique Registry Updated]
His breathing quickened.
The list expanded slowly before him:
Core Cultivation Technique: Matrix
Core Sword Mind: Speed Sword Class
Heaven Class Technique: 9 Path Movement (Incom-plete)
Heaven Class Technique: Space Heart
Heaven Class Technique: Flame Core
Sky Class Technique: All Presence
Heaven Class Technique: False Star
Heaven Class Technique: Battle Armour Gene Art: Lightning Destroyer Armour (Incomplete)
Heaven Class Technique: Death Sword
Sky Class Technique: Clever
Heaven Class Technique: Saint's Soul
Sheo's eyes locked onto the last line—Saint's Soul. That was the technique Nisach had given him.
He leaned back on the grass, exhaling slowly.
"If anyone else even got a glimpse of this list…" he whispered to himself, "their heart might actually stop."
In the life of a cultivator, some would never see a single Heaven Class technique in their entire journey. And here he was, stacking them up like they were candy from a street stall.
Even Nisach, who had long since stopped being sur-prised by Sheo, took a moment of pause.
Then his voice came.
"Try it."
Sheo didn't hesitate. He found a clean patch under the towering 7 Life Tree, sat down in a cross-legged posture, and began circulating the Saint's Soul tech-nique.
Three hours passed in silence.
Then, a faint glow emerged from Sheo's chest. It rose slowly, gently, until it hovered above his physi-cal body. He looked down—and blinked.
He was floating.
His soul was floating.
His physical body was still sitting calmly on the grass below, unmoving.
Sheo raised his spiritual hand and looked at it care-fully, flexing each finger. The sensation was bi-zarre—light, weightless, like existing and not exist-ing all at once.
He chuckled.
"This is wild..."
Nisach groaned.
"Stop playing around. You're not here to dance in the air. Now start absorbing energy."
Sheo rolled his eyes but followed. He floated closer to the 7 Life Tree, then extended his soul-hand.
The moment his soul touched the energy field, a soft warmth flooded into him. It wasn't like usual culti-vation—it wasn't violent or overwhelming. It was calm… healing.
But even better, his physical body—though separat-ed—also began to absorb the tree's energy in tan-dem.
Sheo smiled.
"Two birds with one tree..." he muttered.
Five days passed like this.
In those five days, Sheo's soul cultivation rose step-by-step until it finally stabilized at Saint Level 6.
It couldn't go any further—not because the tree lacked energy, but because his soul simply couldn't withstand any more. Not yet.
He re-entered his physical body and opened his eyes slowly. A wave of harmony washed over him.
Another notification appeared.
[Soul-Body Harmony Achieved]
Sheo looked inward.
Though his main cultivation realm was still at Pinna-cle Saint Level 5, with his soul now at Saint Level 6, and the synergy between body and soul refined to near perfection, his overall strength had surged.
With proper technique and his current foundation, facing an Emperor Level 1 opponent… wasn't just possible—it was winnable.
He exhaled once, then stood up.
A slight flick of his fingers, and the surrounding space trembled. The entire folding space he'd tied to the 7 Life Tree began to collapse back inward. That space—his space—merged into his inner folding realm.
The tree was now bound to him.
He could access it anytime he wished.
Sheo tapped into his mental link and connected with his Arctic Dragon, who was quietly cultivating inside the folding space.
"Use the 7 Life Tree to strengthen your soul," he said calmly.
Just as he closed the link, a glimmer caught his eye. In the very center of the space—floating alone—a small golden light hovered, silent and unassuming.
He approached it.
The moment his hand touched the light, a new mes-sage pulsed:
[Sky-Class Sect Key Acquired]
His eyes widened.
So that was it. From the 9 trials he had cleared, he'd already gained three normal sect keys. But this… this was different.
This key wasn't a normal one.
It was a Sky-Class Key.
A genuine entry pass to the highest-grade inheritance within this folding space.
He grinned and tucked it away into his storage ring.
"Alright..." he muttered. "Time to move."
With a calm breath, Sheo summoned his Destroyer Wings. Flames of blue lightning burst behind him.
Then—whoosh—he vanished.
He exited the trials smoothly this time and immedi-ately closed his eyes. His senses spread outward, stretching across kilometers of distorted space. He picked up something—traces of condensed energy, unnatural and dense.
He didn't call Nisach.
And Nisach didn't speak.
Both knew—it was time Sheo improved himself without guidance.
He picked a direction and shot forward at full speed.
Midway, he came across another dungeon. Without hesitation, he entered and cleared it. The guardians inside were strong—but no longer a challenge for him.
When he emerged, he now had:
5 Normal Sect Keys
1 Sky-Class Key
Then, the environment around him shifted again.
He entered a deserted plain. The land was dry, silent, and oddly still.
Using his sensory skill, Sheo located a disturbance not far away. He narrowed his presence and floated overhead, keeping his energy fully hidden.
Below, he saw them.
Four shadows—each at Saint Level 5—were holding a group of cultivators hostage.
Among them, a young girl, clearly injured and barely conscious, lay on the ground. Her royal robes—now tattered—still shimmered faintly, giving away her identity.
She had the bearing of nobility. But here, she stood no chance.
Nearby, Sheo spotted a pair of daggers, sealed and floating near a stone platform. Likely the treasure the shadows were after.
One of the shadows stepped forward, eyes filled with twisted intent.
"Damn you..." the girl—Hupika—growled. "If you even lay a finger on me, my father will kill you..."
The shadow laughed, mocking.
"Your father? The king of this pathetic land?" he sneered. "You think that little king has any authority here?"
He reached forward, touched her neck briefly, then shoved her aside. The key that was clipped to her dress was snatched and held up like a trophy.
"You're not even worth the trouble."
He turned to his companions.
"Do whatever you want with the rest. I'm done here."
But no response came from behind him.
He frowned.
Then slowly turned back.
The group of kneeling hostages weren't looking at him—they were looking past him, their eyes wide, mouths slightly open, frozen in shock.
His brow furrowed.
He turned to see what they were staring at.
And then—he never got the chance to feel fear.
His head rolled off his shoulders before he could even register what had happened.
One by one, the other shadows fell—silent, clean, precise strikes.
No theatrics. No grand explosions.
Just death.
The mysterious black-hooded boy didn't even glance at the group. His focus was solely on the daggers sealed by formation.
He walked over, reached out, and placed his hand on the seal. With a push of pure energy, the formation shattered with a soft boom. The daggers fell neatly into his hand.
Another key lay beneath.
He picked it up and stored both treasures without a word.
The girl—Hupika—stared in disbelief, her mouth slightly open, eyes unable to process what she'd just witnessed. She tried to say something—
But at that exact moment, the entire folding space began to tremble.
A calm, echoing voice reverberated across every cor-ner of the realm.
"All keys have been collected. The Gates will appear shortly."
"All Prime Key holders must use their key to enter the seal."
Sheo's brows furrowed—not at the announcement—but because at that very moment, a jolt ran through his soul.
The token he had given to Elisa—it had just broken.
No hesitation.
Not even a second thought.
His Destroyer Wings burst to life, flames erupting behind him.
"She wouldn't break it for anything trivial," Sheo muttered under his breath, his eyes sharp and fo-cused. "If she broke it... the situation must be dire."
And with that, he disappeared—racing through the sky at full speed.
On the other hand, just a few moments earlier, all the powers had gathered near the gates. A seal separated them from the area ahead, where their juniors had al-ready assembled. First came the allied forces, then several small groups arrived one after another. Final-ly, Chiara stepped forward, walking with quiet con-fidence, followed by the two remaining shadows.
The atmosphere was tense.
The shadows exchanged brief glances, clearly calcu-lating. They had only one key… but Chiara and her group held two. The thought of launching an attack crept into their minds.
But before anything could happen, all thoughts came to a halt.
A monstrous pressure suddenly descended.
It wasn't slow or creeping — it fell like a crashing wave, pinning everyone down at once. Even Chiara — whose presence until now had been a symbol of unshakable calm — struggled to stay upright. Her face tightened, and her knees nearly buckled under the weight.
Then came a voice, sharp and oddly amused:
"Oh mai... so the information was correct. Heaven Palace has sent their member."
The words were aimed directly at Chiara.
A visible tremor ran through the crowd. Murmurs broke out, and eyes widened. The stronger individu-als exchanged looks of disbelief. Even the power-houses who stood above others froze for a second.
Heaven Palace.
Just hearing that name brought silence.
One of the Four Heaven-Class Sects, Heaven Palace stood at the very peak of cultivation supremacy. Most cultivators could barely imagine the kind of monsters they produced.
Kiana's gaze subtly moved to the boy who had just stepped onto the battlefield. He was completely cloaked in white robes, his hood up, face hidden. Though she already had her suspicions about Chi-ara's background, this was the first time her doubts were confirmed.
She didn't expect to be right.
Chiara gritted her teeth. Her eyes narrowed with a mix of frustration and pride. That voice... the tone of mockery in it—it struck a nerve.
"Damn you… how dare you mock me like this!" she snapped.
In an instant, a light flashed across her arm. A majes-tic staff materialized in her grip, radiating divine power. The moment it appeared, the overwhelming pressure pressing down on the field began to lift—slowly, steadily.
She raised her head and glared directly at the boy in white.
"Who the hell are you?"
But the boy didn't respond.
He didn't even look at her.
Instead, he raised his head to the sky and spoke, his tone casual, as if commenting on the weather:
"How disappointing. Using a weapon to match the gap… how utterly pathetic. I've lost all interest."
He then turned his attention toward the juniors standing behind the barrier — the new generation of the allied force.
Chiara clenched her teeth again. She wasn't going to be ignored.
In one fluid motion, she activated the staff, and a spear of godlight tore through space, shooting to-ward the white-robed boy with terrifying speed.
But he merely raised his hand.
With a casual wave, the attack vanished—erased as if it had never existed.
The battlefield fell into stunned silence.
"Just because you're from Heaven Palace," the boy said, finally acknowledging her, "doesn't mean I won't kill you."
Chiara's staff trembled slightly in her hand. Her face twisted—not in fear, but in restraint. She took a small step back and said nothing.
From the side, the two shadows quickly used a spa-tial treasure and escaped. They weren't foolish. Whatever this person was… they didn't want to be here when things turned ugly.
Seeing the others hesitate, Dakra and one of his allies suddenly launched an attack, unleashing their full power at the mysterious boy.
The boy didn't move.
Another wave of his hand.
Their combined attack dispersed like mist.
Dakra, sensing something terrifying, immediately backed away.
But his ally wasn't as lucky.
The moment that man's body got close to the white-robed figure… it simply disintegrated.
No scream. No resistance. Just pieces.
The five remaining shadows clenched their fists and gritted their teeth so hard the sound cracked like bones.
The boy stepped closer, now only a few meters from the allied new generation.
His voice was casual again.
"I thought that cultivator was part of this group. What, is he scared or something?"
He smirked faintly.
"Yah, I get it. Maybe if I kill a few of you, he'll come out."
Among the juniors, Elisa's body tensed. She gritted her teeth and slowly reached into her pocket.
The token.
But even that minor motion was enough.
Before anyone could blink, the white-robed boy had teleported directly beside her. He held her wrist so tight her fingers couldn't move—her entire arm fro-zen. Even her energy was completely blocked.
"A communication token?"
He smiled. A calm, mocking voice followed:
"I see... go ahead. Break it."
He let go, stepped back, hands behind his back.
Elisa hesitated.
"Why the hell do you people think so much?" the boy said, sounding annoyed. "Here you go—let me help."
Suddenly, a monstrous pressure fell again—stronger this time. Everyone except Elisa was pinned to the ground, unable to even raise their heads.
"Ten seconds," he said flatly. "Either break it, or watch them die."
Elisa's face twisted in frustration. She didn't want to give in—not like this.
But there was no choice.
Her hand tightened. With a small motion, the token cracked apart.
Juvika and the other members of the allied force bit their lips, trying not to react. Their new generation… they were helpless against this monster. If he wanted to, he could've ended everything here.
That's when a terrified voice broke the silence.
It came from one of the shadows.
"That art… the one he used to kill my student… im-possible… if it's true, then… then he's from Taiken Legacy…"
That name struck like a hammer.
As soon as it spread across the crowd, it was like the soul had been ripped from every heart.
Taiken Legacy.
A Heaven-Class Sect, known to produce not just cul-tivators—but the strongest warriors of Taizen. Their name was legend, their techniques feared. No one dared provoke them. The boy hadn't said his name—but the art he used to disintegrate someone instantly, without chant or form, was unmistakable.
"That technique… it's restricted to the purest blood. And I know only one person around Saint Level 7 with that much power…"
The voice stuttered.
"He… he is... the Grandmaster from Taiken Lega-cy…"
Whispers spread.
Grandmaster.
Not his real name—but a title given by those who had seen him fight. His followers, his enemies… even strangers. And he never denied it.
Because if there was one thing he lived for—it wasn't power, or prestige.
It was the fight itself.
18
Fight
Grandmaster sat on a rock, motionless.
Fearless.
Expressionless.
His eyes—cold, hollow—swept across the crowd be-low him. But whatever he saw didn't hold his atten-tion. His gaze shifted away with a clear sense of dis-appointment, as if the world itself had failed to in-terest him.
Then a familiar voice broke the silence.
"What are you doing here, Grandmaster?"
It was Chiara.
After witnessing that terrifying clash earlier, even she had realized who the white-robed boy truly was. Her expression remained guarded, but her voice held a sharpness that hadn't been there before.
Grandmaster turned to her, eyes calm.
"I assume your sect is also looking for it," he said blandly.
"The legendary artifact left behind by the former Emblems."
The moment he spoke those words, the air tensed.
The Emblems—a powerful organization said to exist in the higher planes. No one truly knew what the ar-tifact was or where it had gone. All anyone knew was a vague truth: the artifact had been lost to time, but rumors claimed it could appear within any dun-geon across the realms.
Chiara's eyes narrowed instantly.
"I see. So that makes us enemies."
Her hand gripped her staff tightly.
"I've heard a lot about your strength. Let's see if it's really as impressive as they say."
Before the crowd could process her words, a brilliant orb of light surged to life in front of her. It pulsed—bright, sharp—and then, with a thunderous boom, shot toward the rock where Grandmaster sat.
But Grandmaster didn't move. Didn't blink.
Didn't even acknowledge the attack.
He merely raised his hand.
A wave of dark energy spiraled from his fingers, twisting through the air like living smoke. It swal-lowed the light orb whole, disintegrating it before it could even hum in the air.
But he wasn't done.
"Next time, use a disguise to create an opening," he said, his voice calm, even amused. "At least your skills aren't completely pathetic."
Without looking, he turned his hand toward a seem-ingly random direction—and in that same instant, his dark energy collided with something unseen.
A white spear, launched in stealth, was suddenly re-vealed. The two forces clashed, grinding against each other mid-air. The pressure shifted.
The backlash struck Chiara hard.
Her spear recoiled violently, and the energy wave sent her flying backward. She gritted her teeth as pain flared in her arm—clearly injured. Her body crashed into the ground with a sharp thud.
The crowd gasped in unison.
One of the elders watching muttered, stunned:
"How... how is that boy so strong? He's only Saint Level 7… and that girl's spear—it's stronger than most Sky-Class treasures!"
Another voice answered—this time from the allied .
Juvika.
"That's because…" she began, keeping her voice steady despite her own disbelief, "Grandmaster awakened his energy just ten days after he was born. And from that moment, he's been retraining and condensing it. That was nearly twelve years ago."
She paused, then added:
"He broke through his energy retention not long ago and reached Saint Level 7 in less than a year. Be-cause of that long retraining, his energy purity is off the charts. His quality surpasses normal saints com-pletely. No regular Saint Level 7 stands a chance against him."
Then her expression changed slightly, turning toward Chiara's fallen figure.
"Chiara… she's still in her energy retention stage."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"Her energy's not fully sealed," Juvika continued, voice low, "but she can't access it properly either. That's why she's struggling…"
The realization hit the crowd like a wave.
Even Grandmaster tilted his head slightly.
"So… you came to this mission with restrained ener-gy?" he asked, almost amused. "You're brave, I'll give you that. But also…"
His hand rose.
"…unfortunate."
A black orb formed in his palm—dark, dense, charged with intent.
It shot forward.
Fast.
This wasn't an attack to test her. It was the deciding blow. Even if it didn't kill her, it would certainly leave her broken and unable to stand.
Chiara's fingers twitched.
Her eyes flashed.
Should I remove the seal?
But no—that would destroy years of painstaking cultivation buildup. She hesitated for just a second too long.
The orb neared her chest.
She shut her eyes.
She braced herself for the unbearable pain.
And then…
Nothing.
She opened her eyes slowly—confused.
A puppet stood before her, motionless, having inter-cepted the orb. It had blocked the attack completely.
The crowd fell silent again.
But not everyone was confused.
Two people moved instantly.
Elisa and Luzi both turned their heads toward the same direction at the exact same time—instinctively.
They knew.
Grandmaster laughed.
"How amusing."
His voice rang out.
"So you're finally here."
He turned toward the northeast.
And indeed, a figure slowly walked out of the shad-ows—cloaked in black, silent, calm, unshaken.
The battlefield, previously locked in pressure so heavy that even Saint-level juniors couldn't move, now shifted.
The new boy walked with complete ease, as if he were simply strolling through a park.
He reached the allied juniors and raised his hand slightly. A gentle energy wave flowed out and wrapped around them. The pressure they had been struggling under… vanished instantly.
Sheo had arrived.
Even the strongest among the allied forces—Shuna, Keal, Juvika, and Kiana—grew tense.
Because they knew what was about to happen.
Sheo's figure blinked—and in the next moment, he was standing beside his puppet.
He extended a hand toward Chiara.
She didn't meet his eyes.
But she took his hand anyway.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
She nodded silently.
From a distance, Grandmaster mocked.
"Are you done yet?"
Sheo looked at Chiara and whispered, "Back off—for now. I'll handle this."
She wanted to say a thousand things.
But in the end, she said nothing. She picked up her spear and quietly stepped back, walking toward the allied junior side.
Sheo turned back to his puppet.
"Guard them," he commanded.
The puppet moved slightly, eyes glowing, standing between the juniors and the battle to come.
Then Sheo looked at Grandmaster, eyes sharp.
"Who are you? And what do you want?"
Grandmaster chuckled.
"People call me Grandmaster," he said simply. "And all I want… is a proper fight."
Sheo felt the boy's energy—it was no joke. A serious threat.
Through their telepathic link, Elisa had already re-layed everything she knew.
Sheo smiled faintly.
"Very well then."
With a flick of his hand, a white sword appeared from his storage ring.
The White Star Sword—the one he obtained in the Void Haul.
His sword mind burst forth, surrounding the battle-field like a quiet, suffocating mist.
Grandmaster's eyes sharpened.
"So we do it your way," he muttered.
He raised his hand. A small orb floated out and hov-ered above his palm. His energy flowed into it—and it pulsed, opening with a deep hum. A golden halo formed around it.
A catalyst—used to amplify energy and gene arts.
Then Grandmaster's High Santara-level weapon in-tent filled the air like a crushing wind.
But what shocked him…
Was that Sheo's Low Santara-level sword intent wasn't being suppressed at all.
If anything—it stood equal.
No—it was resisting his dominance.
Grandmaster frowned.
But it wasn't enough to kill his excitement.
The two stood still.
Wind energy wrapped around them.
The battlefield held its breath.
And then—
BOOM
Both figures vanished at the same time.
And in the next instant—their energies clashed like crashing oceans.
A wave of dark energy surged from Grandmaster's hand. It twisted in the air, shaping itself into a small phoenix made of pure shadow. It screeched silently as it soared toward Sheo.
Sheo reacted immediately, stepping aside just in time. The black phoenix missed him by a hair's breadth, its energy brushing his robe as it dissipated into smoke.
He narrowed his eyes, surprised.
He knew that, with the purity of his energy, no one below Emperor Level One should be able to pressure him in any way. But Grandmaster… he was differ-ent. He was only at Saint Level Seven, and yet his attacks carried a depth and sharpness that far ex-ceeded his rank.
And rather than fear, that realization only made Sheo more excited.
Ever since his energy paths were healed, he'd longed for a battle that would truly push him. Until now, he'd only encountered opponents that were either too weak… or far too strong. None who stood at the same realm as him could match his pace or draw out his true strength.
But this time—this opponent—ignited something within him. A flame. His heart burned.
With that heat blazing in his chest, he tried to close the distance. He had to get in close. But the Grandmaster was no amateur. He didn't allow Sheo even a single chance to narrow the gap.
And that was Sheo's greatest weakness in this fight.
For his level and age, he was undoubtedly skilled with the sword. But he had no strong long-range at-tacks, no Gene Arts capable of creating a powerful opening from afar. Without that, he was being kept at bay—unable to use the one thing he excelled at.
On the other hand, Grandmaster frowned.
After observing Sheo's energy level hovering around Saint Level Five, he'd assumed this battle would end in a single move. He expected to be disappointed.
But what shocked him was that, despite their differ-ence in energy level, despite his own weapon intent being more refined and more powerful—he couldn't put any pressure on Sheo.
Not through energy. Not through intent. Nothing.
Grandmaster's energy, praised as one of the finest of his generation, couldn't even bend Sheo's. It was as if Sheo's very presence repelled all force.
Still,Grandmaster moved swiftly. His experienced hands formed complex seals, weaving together a flurry of techniques. Each one aimed directly at Sheo, but none could land.
Sheo dodged them all with smooth, efficient steps. But his condition wasn't good. The battle was drag-ging. He wasn't getting closer, and his breathing had started to grow heavier.
He stopped for a brief second. He exhaled deeply and scanned the battlefield.
Then, after a pause, he nodded to himself—his deci-sion made.
He dodged the next attack, shifted sideways, and closed his eyes.
He began channeling his soul energy and his pure en-ergy, focusing all of it into a single arm. His body moved on instinct as he kept evading Grandmaster's assaults, his concentration never breaking.
No one in the audience could understand what he was doing. Some murmured among themselves, call-ing him reckless, arrogant even.
But Kiana, watching from beyond the seal, saw a subtle change.
Her eyes narrowed.
She stared at his arm. It took her a moment to under-stand what was happening, and her breath caught in her throat.
"No way… is he…?" she whispered, but before she could finish her thought—
Sheo moved.
He dashed forward at full speed, dodging an attack midway. He activated the Nine Path Movement Technique at its absolute limit, and in less than a sec-ond, he appeared right in front of Grandmaster.
Grandmaster scoffed and laughed.
"And what did you gain from this?" he asked mock-ingly.
He responded immediately, using a movement tech-nique of his own to retreat and create distance again.
But just then—snap—Sheo snapped his fingers.
In a blink, a hundred energy seals burst forth from his hand and scattered through the air, locking into precise positions across the battlefield.
Sheo raised his voice slightly, calm and composed.
"Activate Blood Maya Formation."
Boom.
The area around them was instantly swallowed in dark red mist. A crushing pressure descended, chok-ing the air.
The crowd beyond the seal was stunned. Their eyes widened in disbelief.
"How did he create it that fast?" an elder exclaimed. Then, as though something clicked in his mind, he muttered, "Of course… it's unstable. It won't last a single blow. How foolish—"
"Don't speak if you don't understand it," a woman said coldly, her voice void of emotion.
It was Kiana.
She kept her gaze fixed on the battlefield, amuse-ment flickering in her eyes. "This formation was nev-er meant to trap Grandmaster. It's only a diversion."
Even as she spoke, the structure of the formation be-gan to collapse under the sheer force of the Grandmaster's energy.
He wasn't fooled. He understood it wasn't meant to hold him.
But as the red mist started to dissipate… everyone suddenly realized—
Sheo wasn't in sight.
Grandmaster's expression darkened.
He stilled, sensing the space around him. His in-stincts screamed. If he moved even a single step now, he would be torn apart.
He tried to move—but then the attacks began.
Sheo's sword danced in a chaotic pattern. The strikes came in random directions, each one impossibly fast, unpredictable, and sharp. Even Grandmaster, for all his experience, struggled to block them.
From the other side of the seal, Elisa and Luzi gasped.
They recognized the technique. It was Sheo's own—the Speed Sword Class. They watched in stunned si-lence.
Even Shuna, standing calmly near the seal, let a faint smile appear on her face.
Sheo managed to land a few hits, but none were fa-tal. His sword grazed Grandmaster's shoulder, then his side, cutting shallow marks. But that was enough.
Grandmaster gritted his teeth.
A devilish grin crept across his face.
"Amazing… You… you are amazing," he said, his voice deep, shaking slightly with excitement.
Then, with no hesitation, he unleashed his full energy at once. A dark tint infused his aura, and the very space around him cracked. Even though this folding space was designed to be stable, it now rippled—unstable, pressured by the overwhelming force.
Sheo had no choice. He backed off instantly.
Grandmaster began converging all his energy into one point. His hands moved with precise, rapid mo-tions, forming intricate seals.
From the crowd, some elders stood, stunned.
"He's… he's using that ancient technique from his sect," one whispered, horrified.
Another added, "Only twelve people in the sect's history ever mastered it. They say the thirteenth… would be the strongest of them all."
The energy continued to swell. The air trembled. Sheo could feel the coming wave. The entire allied force fell silent, every heart pounding.
Sheo stood still.
He took a deep breath, then slowly raised his sword and closed his eyes.
Above them, the sky began to darken. Tens of thou-sands of stars appeared, glowing softly. In an in-stant, all the starlight seemed to gather and converge at Sheo's blade.
His white sword vibrated. A deep hum filled the air.
Then, from its base, a dark energy began to crawl over the blade—an energy so cold, so ancient, it felt as if it could erase the very concept of life.
And yet, it merged with the starlight perfectly. No chaos. No rejection. Harmony.
Lightning crackled around his body. The wind howled.
All that power focused at the very tip of his sword. The space around Sheo shattered like glass, unable to withstand the pressure.
Outside the seal, the crowd erupted in gasps.
"Isn't that… False Star?" someone whispered.
"Or is it… Death Sword?" another asked, eyes wide.
Even inside the seal, the juniors were frozen. Chiara bit her lip, unsure why. She couldn't hold her usual cold composure when Sheo stood there.
All eyes were on him.
Luzi and Niharika clenched their fists. It was clear now—the gap between them and Sheo had grown even wider.
Shuna's eyes trembled with emotion.
She had watched this boy grow. He was mocked. Ridiculed. Laughed at for his weaknesses. And yet… he never gave up.
And now—he stood, holding his own against a de-scendant of a Heaven-class sect.
Then, in front of everyone's shocked eyes, the two attacks were finally completed.
Grandmaster smiled and raised his hand.
Sheo pulled his sword back.
And then, both struck.
A dark light erupted from Grandmaster's side. Sheo's sword, reinforced with all his gathered ener-gy—False Star, Death Sword, and his Sword Mind at its limits—took the shape of a dragon and surged forward.
The two attacks clashed.
The world shook.
Space was torn apart.
And in that instant, both fighters poured every last drop of strength into the blow.
After several moments, the dust settled. The battle-field was unrecognizable—shattered, misted, and si-lent.
Then, slowly, the fog cleared.
Both Sheo and Grandmaster stood. Injured. Blood stained their clothes. But neither had taken a fatal blow. Their devastating attacks had destroyed one another.
Just then, a faint blue sword light drifted from Sheo's blade toward Grandmaster.
But it was too weak.
It scattered before reaching him.
The two of them looked at each other… and smiled.
They began gathering energy again, preparing for an-other exchange.
But before they could move—
A loud, booming voice echoed across the field:
"The Challenge has been cleared. All keys are col-lected. Holders of the Sky-class key must come to-gether to break the seal. All use of energy is hereby forbidden."
A strange, invisible energy swept through the field, instantly suppressing the power Sheo and Grandmas-ter had begun to summon.
Grandmaster exhaled sharply and muttered in an-noyance, "Tch. I was just starting to have fun."
The seal that had separated the elders and power groups from the juniors slowly began to dissolve.
A ripple passed through the air, and then the translu-cent barrier vanished completely.
One by one, all the groups began making their way toward their juniors. Voices murmured, feet crunched over shattered ground, and the lingering tension of the battle began to ease—but only slight-ly.
Sheo turned his gaze toward Grandmaster.
Their eyes met.
"Looks like it will be a draw for now," Sheo said quietly, his tone calm.
Grandmaster gave him a nod. His voice, though composed, carried a hint of promise. "Next time we fight... we go full power."
With that, he turned away and walked toward a dis-tant direction. His figure slowly faded into the grow-ing movement of people.
Then, the plain began to tremble.
A low rumble echoed from where the Grandmaster had gone, and the ground split open in precise, calcu-lated lines. From within the earth, sixteen gates be-gan to rise, each one carrying its own aura. In front of them, standing apart and more imposing than the rest, three massive gates loomed tall—silent and waiting.
Soon, the allied juniors and their supporting forces reached Sheo. Among them was Chiara, silently ap-proaching, her expression unreadable as always.
Sheo glanced down at his robes. Torn, blood-stained, and scorched at the edges.
He sighed softly.
From within his inner pouch, he took out a few re-covery pills and swallowed them without hesitation. Then, from his storage ring, he drew out another robe—simple, dark, clean—and quickly changed, wrapping it tightly around himself as the others be-gan to gather around.
Without a word, Sheo walked toward Shuna.
He reached into his ring and pulled out five keys—ordinary ones, each belonging to a standard sect—and handed them over.
"I have no use for these," he said plainly.
Then, without pause, he took out a second storage ring. This one gleamed faintly in the light—filled with treasures, herbs, stones, relics. Things he had picked up throughout his journey, yet found no value in for himself.
He handed the ring to Shuna.
The moment she took it, whispers rippled through the allied group.
Gasps followed.
One elder's eyes widened. "He collected this much… alone?"
Even the strongest cultivators from the other sects hadn't gathered ten percent of what Sheo had.
Juvika stood at the back, her expression stiff. A faint flush of embarrassment crept up her face. Her own student… wasn't even close to this level.
Then Sheo spoke again, calm and focused. "Divide them among the team."
Shuna looked at him with pride, her eyes softer than usual, holding back the swirl of emotions behind them. There was admiration there—genuine, word-less admiration.
Sheo turned to Elisa next.
"I think this is better in your hands," he said, and flicked his palm upward.
A pair of daggers appeared in a flash—sleek, re-fined, pulsing with energy perfectly aligned to her elemental aura. He tossed them lightly toward her.
Elisa reached out instinctively and barely managed to catch them.
The moment her hands closed around the hilts, she froze.
She could feel it—power. Clear, resonant, and un-nervingly compatible with her own.
"I… I can't accept this," she said, overwhelmed. Her voice trembled slightly.
Sheo waved his hand, dismissing the idea.
"Take it. I don't use daggers. They match your ener-gy, and your style."
Elisa lowered her gaze, unsure of what to say. Her fingers gripped the weapons more tightly, and after a breath, she nodded.
"Thank you."
After giving away what he no longer needed, Sheo prepared to step away. But before he could—
Shuna stepped forward.
"I promised you I'd make a sword that suits you," she said softly.
She lifted her hand, and with a gentle motion, sum-moned a sword.
It floated toward Sheo—pitch black, faint mist curl-ing from its blade, not sharp in appearance, but terri-fyingly still.
Sheo's breath caught the moment he saw it.
He extended his hand and grasped the handle.
A wave of energy rushed over his entire body—not from the sword itself, but from the way it reacted to him. There was no outward power in it. Unlike his other weapons, this one radiated nothing.
And yet…
Its silence spoke volumes.
It had an attribute none of his weapons had—the ability to hold energy. Pure energy. Because it had no energy of its own, it could store an unimaginable amount within it, and release that energy with no loss during output.
That was rare. Incredibly rare.
But the drawback… was that the user's energy puri-ty had to be near perfect. Only someone with precise control and unmatched refinement could draw out its full power.
Sheo waved it slightly. It moved with no resistance, like an extension of his own arm.
He looked at it one last time, then stored it in his ring.
He turned back to Shuna.
This time, his voice was low, almost quiet. "Thank you for everything."
He knew it in his heart—this might be the last time he would meet Elder Shuna for a long time.
But he didn't let his emotions show.
He held them back, nodded with a calm expression, and turned to leave.
Ahead of him, the seal that blocked the path stood waiting.
Grandmaster and Chiara were already there—each one standing in place, their Sky-class keys ready.
As Sheo approached, he flicked his hand, and a key appeared between his fingers.
It glowed faintly in the fading light.
And without another word, he stepped forward.