Silence crushed the air around the arena.
Yi Kang's body hit the stone floor with a sickening crunch. Blood seeped from his nose and mouth, the whites of his eyes rolled back into his skull. The training spear clattered to the side.
The sect elders, disciples, and instructors stood frozen.
Fareed stood motionless at the center of the circle, his expression unreadable, his black eyes calm too calm.
A few gasps broke the silence.
"D-Did he just kill Yi Kang?!"
"That was a core disciple of the Red River Sect!"
"Isn't that sect protected by General Kang?!"
The tension cracked like ice splitting underfoot.
Yi Kang had come from the Red River Sect a 9th-rate sect, yet influential in the southern regions. Still, compared to the Lotus Sect, a 1st-rate sect boasting grandmasters and legendary swordmasters, Red River was a frog in a well.
Fareed had killed him with a single strike.
In this life as in the hundreds before.
He already knew how this would play out. He had lived this scenario before, over and over.
> Yi Kang dead. Lotus Sect uneasy. Red River Sect outraged but powerless.
The Red River Sect wouldn't dare retaliate. Not directly. Not against the Lotus Sect. Not when the balance of power was so laughably uneven.
As expected, within hours, envoys from Red River arrived. They bowed low, accepted apologies in gold and bronze-grade martial techniques from the Lotus Sect elders, and left with their dead disciple's body without a word.
> It played out like clockwork. Every life. Every time.
And once again, Meo Ran spoke to her father, Sect Leader Ran, about the boy who had saved her years ago.
"I found him, Father," she said quietly, eyes glimmering with emotion. "He was the one who saved me from the slavers. That boy with void-black eyes… it's him."
The Sect Leader raised his brow, intrigued.
"He defeated a Red River core disciple with a wooden spear... without releasing any inner strength?"
"Yes."
"And you're certain he's the same boy?"
Meo Ran nodded. "He hasn't changed. Not truly. I'd never forget those eyes."
The Sect Leader, a powerful swordmaster who had seen thousands of hopeful disciples rise and fall, stood from his meditation cushion.
"Then bring him to me."
Fareed stood calmly before the great pavilion that crowned the mountain's third peak. Wind tugged at his robes. The void in his eyes swallowed the garden's beauty around him.
"I've been told you saved my daughter's life," Sect Leader Ran said, studying him.
Fareed bowed, silent.
"You don't seem particularly happy to be here," the elder continued, watching his reactions.
"I came here to grow stronger," Fareed replied, voice hollow. "Nothing else matters."
The Sect Leader nodded slowly. "Then I offer you this: become my personal disciple. You will be trained in swordsmanship and philosophy. Your path will be hard, but it will take you far."
Fareed looked up, the weight of countless deaths hiding behind his still gaze.
"This world is already mine," he murmured in his heart. "I've died and lived it more than anyone else. Let me walk it once more… to end it properly."
He nodded. "I accept."
---
Thus began Fareed's official journey as a disciple of the Lotus Sect's master.
In every lifetime before, this was the point he truly began to rise.
In the next phase, they would be sent into the Spine Forest a dark and dangerous region filled with demonic beasts and ancient ruins. A test of survival.
A test where, in the past, he had bled. Fought. Lost friends. Made bonds.
But this time, Fareed had no intention of repeating old attachments.
This time, everyone was a target.