Shadow staggered through the woods, the sky above him beginning to pale with the first hints of dawn. Blood clung to his skin, seeping from deep wounds along his ribs, thigh, and shoulder. Each breath was shallow and sharp. Each step left a crimson trail behind him.
The thunder had long passed.
But its echo lived on in his bones.
His left leg dragged uselessly. His blade was strapped across his back, broken and scorched at the edge. His vision swam, and the world tilted every few steps. He couldn't tell if it was blood loss or the residual effects of the Thunder Slash tearing through his nervous system.
But he didn't stop.
He couldn't.
"Just a little further…"
Every tree looked the same now. The forest was quiet again, as if nothing had ever happened. No battle. No blood. No death.
Eventually, after what felt like hours, Shadow collapsed in front of a shallow cliff wall. He turned his head slowly—and saw the dark mouth of a cave, barely visible beneath the hanging roots.
Relief washed over him.
"Made it."
He crawled inside, dragging himself like a dying beast.
Once inside, he leaned against the stone wall and finally let his body give out. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment.
When he opened them, he whispered:
"Now… let's see what you were hiding, Duan Xie."
With trembling hands, he reached into his robes and pulled out the silver storage ring. It shimmered faintly, sealed with Duan Xie's blood signature.
Shadow pressed his own bloodied finger to the band, pouring a trickle of spiritual energy into it.
Click.
The ring opened.
A surge of Qi and darkness burst from it like a whisper of death.
Inside: four healing medicines, three blood pills, a thick scroll sealed with demonic markings, and a pouch of 100 lower-grade spirit stones.
Shadow's eyes widened.
"So much… he really was preparing for something big."
He immediately swallowed one of the healing pills and poured a second into the slash across his ribs. The relief was instant—cooling and numbing, but not enough to erase the damage.
Then his eyes fell on the scroll.
It pulsed with a dark, almost oily light.
He picked it up carefully.
The seal cracked the moment he touched it.
He unrolled it.
And the words inside made his blood run colder than the mountain wind.
"Blood Essence Devouring Art. Stage One: Draw the life from flesh. Stage Two: Extract the Qi from bone. Stage Three: Offer to the void…"
Shadow didn't finish reading.
He had seen this before.
Villages turned to ash.
Animals drained dry.
Elder Yan's furious expression.
"Some cultivation paths are sins. This… is one of them."
Shadow struck a flint, igniting a small flame.
He held the scroll over it, watching as the black script curled into smoke.
Then he crushed the blood pills into powder and scattered them on the cave floor.
"I don't care what power you offer. You don't belong in this world."
Only then did he sit cross-legged and focus.
The spirit stones pulsed inside the pouch.
He took out forty.
"My dantian… still unstable. But the Thunder Slash pushed me to my limit. If I stabilize now, I might reach the Third Level."
He held a stone in each hand and began channeling.
The Heaven-Stealing Sutra didn't absorb energy like other techniques. It devoured.
The energy rushed into his body violently, like thunder crashing through his veins.
Pain surged with it.
His muscles tore and healed.
His bones ached.
His heart stuttered—then found a new rhythm.
Minutes turned into hours.
And then—his dantian exploded with light.
Spiritual energy surged through him, solidifying, condensing, stabilizing.
"Foundation Building Realm: Level Three."
Shadow opened his eyes, sweat rolling down his face.
"It worked…"
He took a moment to breathe. Then checked the pouch again.
"Sixty left."
"If my math is right… I'll need at least twenty more to reach Level Four. Maybe more."
He didn't move to absorb them now.
He needed to heal.
He needed to think.
He stared at his sword—broken, but still his.
Then he focused inward.
And found it.
The remnants of his new martial art.
Thunder Slash.
It didn't have a technique form. No scroll. No stance.
It was a release—a pure, raw channeling of the thunder Qi stored in his dantian.
The more energy he used, the more devastating the blow.
But it came at a cost.
"That strike tore through Duan's defenses. But it also nearly tore me apart."
"The strain on my body is immense."
"I can't use it carelessly. Not unless I want to die with my opponent."
Still… it was power. And it was his.
He smiled faintly.
"Not bad… for a sword born from pain."
The cave was dark.
Cold.
But quiet.
He sealed the entrance with stones and leaves.
And there he remained—for five days.
Each day, he used a drop of medicine. Each day, he meditated. Each day, he checked the Thunder Slash again—reviewing every moment from the fight.
His left shoulder healed crookedly. His thigh was stiff. But the bleeding had stopped.
By the fifth day, he was 80% recovered.
He could walk.
He could swing.
He could fight.
But most importantly—he had lived.
He had survived.
And now… he had a goal.
"Duan Xie was strong. But what comes next… will be worse."
He looked at the remaining spirit stones.
He looked at his cracked sword.
Then he stood.
The cave behind him would forget his name.
But the world ahead… would never forget the man who walked out of it.