Grandmaster sat on a rock, motionless.
Fearless.
Expressionless.
His eyes—cold, hollow—swept across the crowd below him. But whatever he saw didn't hold his attention. His gaze shifted away with a clear sense of disappointment, as if the world itself had failed to interest 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 artifact 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 dungeon 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 swallowed 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 seemingly random direction—and in that same instant, his dark energy collided with something unseen.
A white spear, launched in stealth, was suddenly revealed. 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. Because of that long retraining, his energy purity is off the charts. His quality surpasses normal saints completely. 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 energy?" 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 intercepted 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 shadows—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 relayed 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 battlefield 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 hovered 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 intent 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 different. He was only at Saint Level Seven, and yet his attacks carried a depth and sharpness that far exceeded 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 attacks, 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 difference 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 dragging. 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 decision made.
He dodged the next attack, shifted sideways, and closed his eyes.
He began channeling his soul energy and his pure energy, 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, calling 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 understand 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 second, he appeared right in front of Grandmaster.
Grandmaster scoffed and laughed.
"And what did you gain from this?" he asked mockingly.
He responded immediately, using a movement technique 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, choking 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, amusement flickering in her eyes. "This formation was never meant to trap Grandmaster. It's only a diversion."
Even as she spoke, the structure of the formation began 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 instincts 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 silence.
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 fatal. 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 motions, 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 thousands of stars appeared, glowing softly. In an instant, 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 descendant 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 energy—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 battlefield was unrecognizable—shattered, misted, and silent.
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 another exchange.
But before they could move—
A loud, booming voice echoed across the field:
"The Challenge has been cleared. All keys are collected. Holders of the Sky-class key must come together 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 Grandmaster had begun to summon.
Grandmaster exhaled sharply and muttered in annoyance, "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 translucent 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 slightly.
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 distant direction. His figure slowly faded into the growing 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, calculated lines. From within the earth, sixteen gates began 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 approaching, 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 recovery 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 began 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, wordless 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, refined, 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 unnervingly 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 energy, 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, summoned a sword.
It floated toward Sheo—pitch black, faint mist curling from its blade, not sharp in appearance, but terrifyingly 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 purity 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.