The Enternal Poison Swamp was no different from his second home.
In his previous life, Ray had endured this place for hundreds of years — long enough to memorize its deadly silence, its shifting fog, and the way the mud seemed almost alive beneath one's feet.
Back then, he had entered as a struggling cultivator.
This time… he returned with memory.
Ray stood at the swamp's edge, his gaze steady as poisonous mist coiled through the air like pale serpents. Somewhere within this endless expanse lay the opportunity that had once changed his fate — the turning point that allowed him to step into the higher Ranks.
He closed his eyes.
He tried to recall the exact location.
The broken obsidian tree… the sunken ridge… the pool that reflected no sky…
But memory was treacherous. The swamp never stayed the same. It shifted. It swallowed. It erased.
And there was something else.
"That thing..... That abomination!"
Even in his previous life, he had never truly seen it — only sensed it.
An unseen presence buried deep within the swamp's core.
It was neither alive nor undead… yet it could kill both.
Any being that wandered too carelessly into its domain would simply cease to exist — flesh, soul, corpse, spirit — all dissolved without a trace.
Because of the thing, Ray could not search recklessly.
He had to circulate his mana in reverse.
A forbidden technique he had mastered long ago.
Instead of releasing energy outward, he forced it inward — suppressing his aura, inverting his life fluctuations, mimicking stillness. To the swamp, he had to appear as nothing.
But maintaining reverse mana flow was no simple feat.
It strained the veins.
It twisted the core.
It demanded relentless concentration.
One lapse — one flicker of distraction — and the reversal would collapse. His true presence would flare for a single breath.
And that single breath would be enough.
A thin line of sweat traced down Ray's temple despite the cold mist.
His breathing slowed.
His steps became lighter.
He could not afford haste.
Yet the opportunity he sought was not in the outer region.
It lay deeper.
Far deeper.
Into the zone that even 6th Ranks feared to tread.
Ray opened his eyes.
The fog thickened ahead, swallowing the faint outline of twisted trees.
His lips curved slightly.
"In my previous life, I survived this place for centuries…"
"Now, I don't have to wander around to find it."
And without disturbing a single ripple in the poisoned waters, Ray stepped deeper into the Enternal Poison Swamp.
While Ray searched for his destined opportunity—
Blake moved in silence.
His body flowed in a precise rhythm, each motion sharp yet controlled. His feet pressed into the stone with measured force, shoulders rotating, spine aligning, breath syncing with every strike.
A pattern.
Disciplined.
Refined beyond his apparent Rank.
From the darkness of the chamber, a shadow watched.
The figure's eyes narrowed.
Those movements—
He knew them.
Not perfectly.
But enough.
"The Human Sutra…"
The words echoed only in his mind. His lips did not move.
The technique was subtle, disguised within simple foundational motions. But to someone who had had also practiced the same Sutra for decades… it was unmistakable.
After more than an hour, Blake finally stopped.
Sweat soaked his clothes. His chest rose and fell steadily, exhaustion evident in his limbs.
Yet his eyes—
They shone with excitement.
"It feels so good…" Blake muttered softly, clenching his fist as faint strength pulsed beneath his skin.
His physique was stabilizing.
Refining.
Becoming Stronger.
He remained still until the sweat dried, controlling his breathing until it returned to perfect calm. Only then did he went to his bed
The moment Blake exited—
The shadow detached from the darkness.
Without a sound, he vanished from the room.
Deep within the Secret cave.
Past the reinforced metal door engraved with the words Our Flames are meant to be eternal—
Baron Red Rodrick stood alone.
Crimson hair fell over his shoulders like burning silk. His presence alone made the surrounding mana feel heavy, as though kneeling in submission.
The shadow figure knelt.
"My Lord."
Baron Red did not turn immediately.
"Speak."
The figure lowered his head further.
"The boy Blake… he was practicing a warrior sutra."
Silence.
Baron Red's gaze shifted slightly.
"Continue."
"It was definitely the Human Sutra which you had given him earlier."
For the first time, the air in the chamber changed.
The mana trembled.
Baron Red slowly turned around.
His eyes sharpened.
"Are you certain?"
"It was not prefect… but the foundational movements were unmistakable."
A long silence followed.
Baron Red's fell into a deep thought.
The Human Sutra....to think he can pratice it despite preciously having no talent.
Baron Red also knew of Blake's background for–
Blake's background had already been investigated thoroughly.
Nothing.
No powerful lineage.
No suspicious contact.
Yet—
Jake reported sensing somthing from that boy.
Baron Red's gaze darkened.
"The legend wasn't a myth…"
He murmured it softly, almost to himself.
Was Blake talent really a miracle because of the Ancient Bloodline?
Or something else?
After several breaths, the Baron finally spoke.
"keep an eye on him but also don't forget to monitor 'that other persons' movement."
"Yes, My Lord."
"Continue observing."
The command was calm.
But absolute.
"Report every anomaly. Every fluctuation. Every single details witout fail."
The shadow figure bowed deeply.
"As you command."
As he disappeared into the darkness once more, Baron Red remained standing.
His eyes were distant.
Thoughtful.
Calculating.
The coming war required strength.
And this era—
"It truly is a lively era…"
His voice was low.
Almost amused.
But beneath it—
There was caution.