[Chapter 16]
The Whispering Hollow was older than most parts of the Sect, a circular arena carved into the cliffside before records were even kept. Overgrown vines had claimed much of the stone, and the faded carvings along its edges told stories now lost to time.
But tonight, it breathed again—not with life, but with corruption.
Beneath the ghostly moonlight, the hooded figure in the serpent mask stood tall at the center of the circle, speaking in a language only half of the disciples present could understand. The rest listened anyway, as if hypnotized by the venom in his voice.
Castiel crouched behind a broken pillar along the upper ridgeline. He didn't move, didn't even breathe too deeply. The new skill—Shadow Serpent Sword—had melded with his Qi flow perfectly, allowing his presence to vanish like dew in morning air.
[Passive Effect: Presence Suppression Activated. Detection chance reduced by 85%.]
[Strategic Instinct Bonus: Weak Point Detected—Masked Leader's left shoulder bears Qi fracture.]
Castiel's eyes narrowed.
He didn't plan on killing the leader tonight—not without more information—but injuring him? Scaring the snake back into its hole?
That… he could do.
Below, one of the robed figures spoke up. "The Heaven Vault Clan sent their agent. He confirmed the boy has a system."
A murmured ripple went through the crowd.
"System…"
"The Progenitor's blessing…"
"Can we extract it?"
The masked leader raised his hand, silencing the whispers.
"No. Not yet. But he will break. Or be broken."
He turned slowly, and for one terrifying moment, Castiel swore the mask looked straight at him.
[Notice: Masked Leader has high-grade spiritual senses. Evade or maintain suppression.]
Castiel didn't move. Not even his heartbeat betrayed him.
Instead, he waited. Observed. Memorized.
The positions of every traitor.
The weapons they carried.
Their Qi fluctuations.
Their faces.
[Memory Log Updated: Potential Enemies Marked – 14.]
Then, from below, a new figure arrived. A girl—young, maybe fifteen—escorted in chains. Her robes bore the faded symbol of a traveling alchemy sect.
A hostage?
No. A message.
The masked leader turned to the crowd again.
"For those still doubting our cause… tonight, witness the price of weakness."
He lifted his hand.
A blade of shadow formed from the air itself, aimed at the girl's heart.
Castiel didn't think.
He moved.
One flash.
One leap.
One strike.
[Shadow Serpent Sword – Critical Activation!]
A curved line of energy shimmered through the moonlight, slicing through the shadow blade just before it struck.
Gasps echoed.
The masked leader stepped back, eyes darting toward the source.
But Castiel was already moving again—like smoke, like lightning, like thought.
He landed beside the girl, shattered her chains with a reverse grip flick, and pushed her behind him.
"Sorry," he muttered to her, "you looked like you needed saving."
From above, angry shouts rose. Weapons were drawn.
The serpent mask tilted slightly.
"You," it said, low and venomous, "should have stayed hidden."
Castiel grinned, raising his blade. "And miss the party?"
-----------------------------------------
The masked disciples surged forward like a tidal wave, their swords gleaming under the pale moonlight. The corrupted aura they carried poisoned the very air around them, twisting the once-pure Qi of the Hollow into something dark and suffocating.
But Castiel's eyes didn't waver.
He adjusted his stance instinctively—low to the ground, sword tip angled just slightly upward, like a coiled viper ready to strike.
[Combat Mode Activated.]
[Skill: Thunderstep Movement Technique Lv.3 – Boosted Speed by 35%]
[Skill: Phantom Slash Lv.2 – Chance to create afterimages: 30%.]
[Strategic Instinct: Predicting Enemy Movements – Accuracy 60%.]
The first wave came.
Three attackers, forming a loose triangle, tried to hem him in.
Castiel took a half-step back, letting the first two overextend. The third attacker lunged from the right—
Crack!
A lightning-infused Thunderstep sent Castiel blurring past them, his sword flashing once—twice.
Blood misted the air as the first two dropped, groaning, clutching non-lethal slashes across their arms and legs. Castiel was careful. Killing them recklessly might bring more trouble than he could handle right now.
The third one?
He wasn't so lucky.
A clean, swift tap of Castiel's blade struck his pressure point, knocking him unconscious before he hit the ground.
Castiel pivoted, bringing the girl closer behind him.
[Protective Instinct Activated: Allies within 2 meters gain +10% movement speed and +5% Qi defense.]
A second wave formed—five this time, and one of them an Inner Sect disciple, judging from the richer robe.
They weren't charging blindly like the first group. No, this batch moved in coordinated steps, covering angles, watching his feet, sword arm, breathing.
Better, Castiel thought grimly.
He spun his sword once, feeling the slight tremor in his wrist from the earlier Thunderstep.
"System," he whispered under his breath, "what's my stamina?"
[Stamina: 63% Remaining.]
Good enough.
He breathed in deeply, centering himself.
The first disciple from the new wave unleashed a ranged attack—a whip of energy crackling like black fire.
Castiel narrowed his eyes.
[Skill Unlocked: Swift Breaker – Instantly break weak Qi-based projectiles within 2 meters.]
He didn't even need to think.
Slash!
A diagonal cut cleaved through the whip, dissipating it into nothing.
Using the afterimage from Phantom Slash, Castiel blurred forward, feinting left, then twisting right. His blade grazed across the second disciple's ribs, sending him sprawling.
The third came from above, leaping down with a heavy two-handed strike.
Castiel gritted his teeth, bracing for impact—
But just as the sword descended, he stepped sideways at the last second, letting the blade slam into the ground beside him with a shockwave of dust.
He countered with a low sweep kick, knocking the attacker off-balance, then smacked the flat of his blade against the back of the guy's head.
Another down.
Two left.
The Inner Disciple smirked arrogantly, stepping forward.
"You're skilled," the disciple said, voice slick with disdain. "But still just an Outer Sect rat."
His blade shimmered with eerie black Qi, clearly enhanced by forbidden techniques.
Castiel didn't reply.
He just shifted his stance again—silent, cautious, analyzing.
This wasn't the time for pride.
It was the time for precision.
[Strategic Instinct Bonus Triggered: Counter Opening Detected—0.8 seconds after opponent's first thrust.]
The Inner Disciple attacked, thrusting forward with lethal speed.
Castiel sidestepped, letting the blade graze his robes by a hair's breadth, then lashed out with Shadow Serpent Sword—a quick, twisting strike aimed at the enemy's exposed side.
A wet crack followed.
The Inner Disciple cried out, blood spraying from his side as he staggered backward, barely keeping himself standing.
But Castiel didn't finish him off.
Instead, he stepped back, eyes locked onto the masked leader still standing silently at the center of the arena.
"Enough!" the masked leader barked, voice laced with Qi-enhanced authority.
The remaining disciples froze instantly.
Castiel stood protectively in front of the alchemy girl, sword still pointed down, but ready to flick upward at the slightest movement.
The leader tilted his head.
"You have made your choice tonight, Castiel."
Castiel didn't reply.
He only met the masked leader's gaze—unflinching, fearless.
The masked leader chuckled, low and cold.
"The serpent remembers its enemies."
Without another word, he turned and vanished into the shadows—his entire body swallowed by swirling black mist.
One by one, the surviving masked disciples retreated after him, leaving behind their fallen comrades and the lingering stench of corruption.
The Hollow grew silent once more.
Only Castiel and the trembling girl remained.
He sheathed his blade with a quiet, clean motion.
"You're safe now," he said softly.
The girl sobbed once, collapsing to her knees.
Castiel crouched beside her, offering a steady hand.
Behind his calm, though, his mind churned.
The System. The Masked Leader. The serpent.
This wasn't the end.
It was only the beginning.
And Castiel knew—
He was being hunted now.
But he smiled anyway, a faint, cunning curve of his lips.
Because he wasn't just prey.
He was a player too.
And he had always been good at games.