The next day, Xu Ming decided to push further. He moved deliberately through the courtyard, feeling the arrays like currents in a river, guiding him, warning him, testing him.
Suddenly, shadows flickered at the edges of his vision—illusions left by the formations. They were designed to mimic intruders, some wielding Bone Forging-level strength, others striking with speed that made his reflexes scream.
A tall shadow lunged at him. Xu Ming swung the wooden sword instinctively, but the figure vanished, leaving him stumbling. Another attacked from behind—his muscles tensed, five elements flaring, and he twisted, redirecting the force.
Slow down… anticipate… don't just react! he reminded himself.
He began moving more deliberately. Shadow Step became instinctive; Silent Breath Circulation allowed his presence to blend with the courtyard's energy. Each illusion forced him to think, anticipate, and adapt.
At one point, three shadowy figures attacked simultaneously. Xu Ming felt panic rising but closed his eyes for a heartbeat, letting the five elements guide him. Wood softened his stance, earth anchored him, water harmonized his breathing, fire fueled subtle bursts of counterattack, and metal hardened his bones for precise blocks.
He neutralized the first shadow with a swift tap to its wrist, sidestepped the second while guiding it into a motion-triggered trap, and avoided the third's strike entirely.
By sunset, Xu Ming stood in the center of the courtyard, chest heaving, sweat dripping into the stone floor. The shadows had been relentless, yet he had survived, adapted, and even learned from each encounter.
"I… I'm starting to control this place," he whispered. "Not just surviving… I'm learning."
For the first time, Xu Ming felt a flicker of confidence, even while alone.