The sun had not yet risen when Shadow was roused from his meditation.
A firm knock echoed against the wooden doors of his recovery chamber, followed by the respectful voice of the black-robed attendant from the day before.
> "City Lord Zhao has summoned you. There's work to be done."
Shadow rose without complaint.
The pain from his wounds had dulled overnight thanks to the imperial-grade salves, and while his thigh remained stiff, he could walk without crutches now. He cleaned himself quickly and donned a deep blue traveling robe left for him—its fabric laced with defensive formation lines and slight resistance to elemental attacks.
---
City Lord Zhao waited in the fortress's inner courtyard. Dressed in armor adorned with the empire's insignia and Mourning Wind's crest, he looked less like a nobleman and more like a war-hardened commander.
Beside him stood five cultivators, all sharp-eyed and lean with quiet confidence. Their presence alone told Shadow one thing:
These were killers.
> "You're on your feet. Good," Zhao said, appraising him. "You said you came here to grow stronger, yes?"
Shadow nodded once.
Zhao gestured to the team. "Then this is your chance. A monastery two ridges from here was taken by Purple Devil Sect remnants three days ago. We confirmed last night that they're fortifying it."
One of the cultivators stepped forward—a tall man with ash-grey eyes and a spear on his back. He introduced himself with a simple nod.
> "Captain Ling Fei. We move fast, strike hard, and leave no survivors."
Zhao turned to Shadow. "This won't be a sparring match. These cultists are dangerous. You're either with them, or you're with us. There is no middle ground."
> "Understood," Shadow replied.
Zhao nodded and tossed him a jade token. "Your provisional mission badge. You're one of us now—don't die."
---
The journey to the monastery was silent.
They moved like ghosts through mist-laden trees, never speaking unless necessary. Ling Fei set the pace, and Shadow kept close behind, noting how the terrain gradually grew colder. The trees here had twisted bark, and birds no longer sang. The air grew denser, tainted with something that made the skin crawl.
Every shadow stretched unnaturally long.
They passed a village on the outskirts—deserted. Its well was stained with black sludge, and its shrine had been defaced with claw marks and strange sigils. Houses were crumbling, and some doors were left ajar as if their owners fled in haste. Even the livestock pens were empty.
Shadow paused beside a shrine desecrated with blood symbols and broken incense sticks.
> "This wasn't just fear. This was slaughter."
The others didn't stop. Ling Fei only muttered, "We burn the village on our way back. Nothing demonic must linger."
By midday, they arrived.
The monastery stood ruined atop a cliff, partially swallowed by roots and black ivy. A foul aura clung to the structure like smoke after fire. The once-serene temple had become a grotesque silhouette, its steeple cracked and statues broken.
They crouched behind a cluster of boulders.
> "Twelve enemy signatures," whispered Ling Fei. "Three stationed outside. Nine inside. At least two are at peak Foundation Realm. One might be stronger."
Shadow narrowed his eyes. "Then we divide and strike quickly. Otherwise, we're surrounded."
Ling Fei glanced at him. "You think fast. Good. You take the left flank. Two guards. I'll clear the right."
Shadow nodded, slipping away through the underbrush.
---
He found his targets near a broken statue. Two masked disciples clad in purple-black robes stood with casual confidence, their blades resting against their shoulders. They looked bored—unprepared.
They never saw him coming.
**Thunder Step.**
Shadow moved like a ripple of wind, appearing behind the first and driving his palm into the cultist's back. Electricity surged, freezing the man mid-breath before Shadow sliced his throat in a clean arc.
The second turned—too late.
**Flash Blade.**
A thin arc of light traced across his chest. He stumbled, screaming as lightning carved through his core.
The scream triggered the others.
From within the monastery came chaos.
The team surged forward. A volley of talismans lit the sky. Metal clashed. Qi roared. Demonic howls echoed.
Shadow didn't stop.
He pressed deeper, his heart pounding. The monastery was now a battlefield. Explosions shook its pillars. He glimpsed one of his allies being thrown into a wall, then retaliating with a flaming spear that reduced his opponent to ashes.
The walls inside were painted with dark murals, scenes of torture and transformation. One showed a man being fed to a beast while others chanted.
Shadow burst into the central hall.
There he saw it:
A massive ritual circle, carved into the stone floor, pulsing with crimson light. Bones had been used as glyphs. A twisted altar rose from the center.
And chained atop it—
A girl, no older than twelve. Eyes wide with fear. Cultivation sealed. Her mouth gagged, blood caking the corner of her lips. One arm dangled unnaturally.
Alive.
Shadow's grip tightened.
A dark-robed figure turned toward him, sneering.
> "Another lamb to the altar."
The man raised a clawed hand, demonic Qi swelling around him. His presence was heavier than the others—a minor leader.
Shadow responded with a calm voice.
> "Not today."
He surged forward, lightning swirling around him. The demon cultivator attacked, claws slashing through the air. Shadow blocked with the flat of his blade, took a glancing hit to his shoulder, and retaliated with a surge of **Thunder Slash** that cleaved through the enemy's chest, leaving smoking flesh and scorched bone.
The scream that followed cracked stone.
But two more cultists leapt from the shadows.
Shadow spun, parried the first, kicked the second into a pillar, then thrust his blade into the first one's stomach. He ducked as a wave of flame passed overhead—Ling Fei had arrived.
> "I told you not to die," the captain said with a grin.
Shadow nodded once, eyes already returning to the chained girl.
He rushed to the altar, sliced through the chains with crackling Qi-infused strikes, and caught the girl before she collapsed.
She looked up at him, dazed.
> "You're... not a devil?"
Shadow shook his head.
> "No. I'm the storm that breaks them."
He turned to leave—
And froze.
His instincts screamed.
A figure dropped from the upper rafters, silent as death. Shadow caught only a blur before the blow struck.
He twisted, but not fast enough.
A powerful palm slammed into his chest, sending him flying backward into the altar. Stone cracked. Blood sprayed from his lips.
The attacker landed in front of him—tall, armored in dark spiritual steel. His aura was like iron forged in flame.
> "Foundation Realm?" the man sneered. "Impressive. But you're still prey."
Shadow's eyes widened.
> "First layer of Muscle and Skin Forging..."
His breathing quickened.
**A true cultivator of the next realm.**
And the fight had just begun.
---
**End of Chapter 82 – The Devil's Whisper**