The Art of the Invisible Strike

Chapter 9

The night of the New Moon Festival was the loudest night of the year in the Azure Cloud Sect. From his position on the high rafters of the outer wall, Han Feng could see the thousands of paper lanterns rising into the sky like glowing jellyfish. 

The sound of drums and flutes drifted up from the lower valleys. The air was filled with the smell of roasted pork, sweet wine, and burnt gunpowder.

Everyone from the lowest servant to the highest disciple was celebrating. The guards were drunk on rice wine, and the elders were busy receiving guests from neighboring sects.

It was the only time the Forbidden Library would be vulnerable.

Han Feng adjusted the dark cloth wrapped around his face. His "Copper Skin" had reached a new level of density.

Even in the cool night air, he felt warm. His internal furnace was burning through the Vitality Pills he had stolen, turning them into raw, concentrated power.

He didn't run toward the library. He moved like a shadow. He used a technique from the Celestial Bone-Forging Scripture called the Ghost-Step.

Instead of placing his heel down first, he landed on the outer edge of his foot, using his Internal Resonance to absorb the sound of the impact. To anyone watching, he would look like a blur of dark smoke moving across the rooftops.

The Forbidden Library was a massive, circular building made of black basalt. It had no windows on the lower levels. It looked more like a fortress than a place of learning. Two guards stood at the main entrance, but they were leaning against their spears, laughing about a girl they had seen at the festival.

Han Feng didn't use the door. He climbed.

He reached out and grabbed a tiny crack in the stone wall. His fingers, now as strong as steel pliers, dug into the basalt. He pulled himself up, inch by inch, using only his upper body strength. He didn't breathe loudly. He didn't scrape the stone. He moved with the terrifying efficiency of a spider.

He reached the third-floor balcony, the only entrance not guarded by men. But it was guarded by something much worse: The Acoustic Array.

As he stepped onto the balcony, Han Feng saw the floor was covered in thin, crystalline sand. This wasn't magic. These were "Piezo-Crystals." If even a grain of sand was pressed, it would create a high-pitched vibration that would trigger massive bronze bells throughout the building.

"Pressure and Sound," Han Feng whispered. "Physics is the only guard here."

He closed his eyes. He remembered the Scripture’s instructions on "The Zero-State."

A human being is never truly silent. The heart beats. The lungs expand. The blood rushes through the veins. All of these things create vibrations. To the Piezo-Crystals, a living human was as loud as a drum.

"I have to stop being alive for a moment," Han Feng muttered.

He took a final, deep breath, packing the "Primal Oxygen" into his silver marrow. Then, he used his "Internal Resonance" to command his own heart.

Thump... thump... stop.

Han Feng’s heart ceased to beat. He used his muscles to clamp down on his arteries, stopping the flow of blood. His body became a statue. He was in a state of suspended animation, a zero-state. He had exactly sixty seconds before his brain would begin to die from lack of oxygen.

He stepped onto the crystal sand.

Nothing happened. No bells rang. Because his heart wasn't beating, there was no rhythmic vibration traveling through his feet. He moved across the floor with the speed of a strike, his "Copper Skin" perfectly balancing his weight so that he didn't even disturb the patterns in the sand.

He reached the inner door and slipped inside just as his vision began to blur.

Thump-thump-thump!

His heart restarted with a violent jerk. He gasped for air, leaning against the cold stone wall of the library’s interior. His chest burned, but he was inside.

The library was a labyrinth of towering wooden shelves. Thousands of scrolls and books were packed into the shadows. Han Feng ignored them. He wasn't looking for books. He was looking for the foundation.

He made his way to the center of the building, where a massive stone pillar rose from the basement to the roof. He pulled the jade pendant from his neck.

The dragon-shaped key felt warm. As he approached the pillar, the jade began to pulse with a faint light. He saw a small, circular indentation in the stone, hidden behind a decorative carving of a weeping eye.

He pressed the pendant into the hole.

Click.

There was no magical explosion. Instead, there was the heavy, grinding sound of massive stone gears turning deep underground. The floor beneath the pillar began to slide away, revealing a narrow, spiraling staircase that led down into the dark.

Han Feng descended. The air grew colder and thinner. The smell of old paper was replaced by the smell of ozone and sterilized metal.

At the bottom of the stairs, he entered a room that looked nothing like the rest of the sect. The walls weren't made of stone; they were made of a smooth, black material that felt like glass but was as hard as diamond.

In the center of the room was a large, circular table made of the same black glass. Above the table, a series of lenses and mirrors were arranged to catch the faint moonlight from a narrow shaft leading to the surface.

Han Feng touched the table.

Suddenly, the mirrors shifted. The moonlight was concentrated and projected onto the table’s surface. It wasn't a map of the Azure Cloud Sect. It wasn't even a map of the world he knew.

It was a map of the "Nine Heavens."

Han Feng stared in shock. He had always been told the Nine Heavens were "spiritual realms" where gods lived. But the map showed something different.