Kaelen raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh? The Crimson Fist Marauder is famous? Killing him has made my name echo across Aurelia City? Honestly… that seems rather weak.”The guard in front of him froze. His grip on the sword tightened, disbelief twisting his features. Then a bitter laugh escaped him, low and trembling. “Weak…?” he repeated, as if the word itself were heresy.Kaelen’s calm aura didn’t waver. He wasn’t just a skilled martial artist—he radiated power. Real, undeniable strength that made the Marauder’s reputation look like a child’s tantrum. The Crimson Fist Marauder—the man who had terrorized Aurelia City, whose name alone had made merchants tremble and citizens flee—was now, in Kaelen’s eyes, nothing more than an inconvenience.The realization hit the guard like a storm. This wasn’t an ordinary prodigy. Perhaps a disciple of some legendary sect—the Sword Sect, maybe. His thoughts whispered in awe, though his voice never dared speak i

The night had wrapped Aurelia City in silence, thick and almost tangible. Moonlight spilled over cobblestones and stone walls, painting them silver. Shadows swayed lazily in the evening breeze, stretching long, dark fingers across empty courtyards. Kaelen slowed his steps, senses pricking. Something moved in the darkness. Graceful. Silent. Dangerous.A woman in white stepped into view, her movements fluid, almost unreal.Calyra.Kaelen’s brow furrowed. At this hour? Why now? Their encounters had been brief—nothing more than a polite nod or a few words in the central hall earlier today. And yet here she was, as if the night itself had summoned her, deliberate and calm with every step.“Young Master Kaelen,” she said softly, her voice a faint chime, “your senses truly do you credit. Even my concealment technique—” she paused, tilting her head slightly, “—could not escape your eyes.”Her words caught him off guard, but he forced his gaze steady. She wasn’t immediately stunning; her beaut

“Master! Help me!”Lord Veyndar’s scream ripped through the chaos. His voice trembled, raw with terror, as he lunged at the colossal black serpent. Two jagged dragon horns jutted from its head, gleaming like shards of onyx in the dim light.Veyndar was barely more than a minor city lord in Aurelia City. His cultivation? Modest, at best. He had no hope of standing against Maturok, whose aura burned like a storm ready to explode.“Human! You dare strike before me? Attempt to kill my disciple? Then I shall devour you first!”The words were chillingly clear. The black serpent—its scales dark and shimmering like midnight oil—spoke with perfect human clarity.“It’s… an Ashvara evil beast,” someone whispered. “And it’s intelligent.”Even Maturok’s eyes widened. The arrow trembling in his hand reflected a moment of doubt—but hesitation wasn’t an option.“Boom!”He roared, channeling every shred of demonic energy into his hand. The air warped, trembled, rippled. His hand grew monstrously, claw

The courtyard seemed to breathe like it had a pulse of its own.Soft carpets of emerald grass rippled underfoot, swaying with the whispers of a gentle wind. Crystal-clear streams twisted between mossy stones, catching the sunlight in fractured reflections. Birds darted overhead, trilling melodies that danced with the fragrance of blooming spirit flowers. Every corner of this place radiated serenity—so far removed from the chaos beyond its walls that one could almost forget the world existed outside.For most people, this would have been paradise. A haven to dream, to rest, to escape the endless grind of cultivation.But for Kaelen Viremont? Not even close. This courtyard was nothing more than a pit stop—a temporary lull before the storm. His path didn’t allow peace.Inside his chamber, the air seemed heavier, charged with focus. Kaelen sat cross-legged, back rigid like a drawn sword, eyes sharp, expression unyielding. In his hands were slender leaves that shimmered faintly, silver fil

The air shivered.One sharp metallic hum cut through the battlefield, fast and clean, like lightning splitting the sky.Kaelen had meant for it to be simple. Pour his Sword Spirit into the weapon, cut his enemy down, end it fast. Brutal, decisive. But the instant his energy surged into the battered blade, something impossible happened.The sword trembled. The rust—layer after layer of it, thick from decades of rot—crumbled into glowing dust. Underneath, something stirred. Silver steel, bright as moonlight, revealed itself in jagged streaks. Not the dull iron forged by mortal hands. This was flawless. Untouched. Divine.Kaelen’s chest tightened. Only a fraction of the sword’s true surface showed—barely a tenth—but it was enough.The world answered.Another hum burst out, no longer just sound. It was the roar of a god. Bolts of lightning shot out of the revealed blade, running wild up Kaelen’s arms, spilling across the battlefield in white-gold arcs that blinded every eye. Warriors stum