The master warrior’s corpse struck the surface of the lake with a dull, hollow splash, sending ripples across water that had been pristine only moments earlier.

  Immediately, the clear water began to distort as blood seeped outward from the lifeless body, curling and spreading like dark ink until the lake itself seemed to recoil under the contamination.

  Eklavya stood above the water, his boots barely disturbing the surface, as if the lake itself feared to resist him. His gaze lingered on the drifting corpse with neither satisfaction nor regret—only a cold acknowledgment of inevitability.

  “So this is all they sent,” he said at last, his voice carrying effortlessly across the area, low and sharp, stripped of any warmth.

  “A handful of master warriors and trembling practitioners to hunt me down. It seems your sect has grown careless… or perhaps they have simply forgotten.” His eyes narrowed slightly behind the mask as thunder rolled faintly in the distance.

  “Have they truly forgotten how many of their grandmasters have already fallen by my hands?”

  It was not entirely a lie, nor was it wholly the truth. Eklavya was fully aware that the disciples before him did not know the full story—that rumors had twisted events into something simpler, and far more terrifying, than reality.

  Some of those grandmasters had not fallen by his hand in direct combat. Others had met their end through Anshvi’s overwhelming power on that chaotic day. Yet to the outer world, such distinctions did not matter.

  To these disciples, to the sects whispering his name in fear, there existed only one truth—that Eklavya was not human, but a demon in disguise. He understood that perception well. And he allowed it to exist, because fear, when properly cultivated, was often more effective than strength alone.

  From among the remaining disciples, one figure stepped forward. His posture was tense yet defiant, spiritual ki flaring faintly as he struggled to steady his breathing.

  He was clearly the strongest among them—a four-star master warrior whose cultivation placed him far above the others. Yet even he could not fully suppress the unease flickering in his eyes as he stared at the lake stained red.

  “You speak boldly for someone who relies on deception,” the man said, forcing scorn into his voice. “Those grandmasters you boast about—you must have killed them through tricks, ambushes, or borrowed strength. Otherwise, you would not be standing here.”

  As if in response to his words, thunder cracked sharply overhead. The sound reverberated through the valley as the temperature dropped noticeably, and a cold wind swept across the lake, rippling the bloodied surface.

  Eklavya exhaled slowly. He rolled his neck from side to side, the faint sound of bones cracking echoing beneath his mask as he loosened the tension built up through an entire night of relentless pursuit and slaughter.

  Exhaustion weighed heavily on his limbs, his spiritual core burning dully from overuse. Yet his stance did not falter.

  “If that is what you believe,” he replied calmly, lifting his gaze to meet the man, “then come forward and see for yourself.”

  The moment the words left his mouth, the remaining master warriors moved as one. They launched themselves across the lake with explosive bursts of ki, swords drawn and auras flaring violently as they converged on him from multiple directions.

  Behind them, the practitioner warriors remained frozen in place. Their legs shook uncontrollably as they struggled even to stand upright, terror rooting them where they stood.

  Eklavya inhaled deeply, centering himself.

  He met the first attacker head-on, his sword colliding with that of a two-star master in a violent clash that sent shockwaves rippling across the water. With a swift twist of his wrist, he redirected the blade and drove his shoulder forward, forcing the man backward.

  He pivoted sharply and drove his fist into the abdomen of a one-star master charging from his flank.

  Five chakra rings erupted into motion around Eklavya’s arm, spinning violently as the punch landed with devastating force. The impact caved inward with a sickening crunch.

  A spray of blood burst from the master warrior’s mouth as his body was launched backward through the air.

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  The blood scattered across the lake in a crimson arc, splashing toward the practitioner warriors. They recoiled in horror as droplets stained their robes, while the water itself surged upward from the force before crashing back down in chaotic waves.

  Before the water could even settle, Eklavya vanished. His figure dissolved into a blur as he reappeared directly in front of the remaining two-star master who had yet to strike.

  “Unity Chakra Annihilation.”

  The words were spoken evenly, almost softly. The moment they left his lips, the five rotating chakra rings around his arm compressed violently, collapsing inward until they fused into a single, blinding point of condensed power.

  His fist drove forward and the air screamed.

  A beam of pure annihilating force erupted from the point of impact, punching straight through the master warrior’s body and reducing it to ash in less than a heartbeat.

  The beam did not stop there. It tore onward through the forest beyond the lake, obliterating trees, beasts, and stone alike. It carved a path of utter destruction before slamming into the base of a distant mountain with catastrophic force.

  The impact shook the entire valley. Moments later, the mountain’s weakened side collapsed, triggering a massive landslide that thundered downward, burying everything in its path beneath tons of rock and debris.

  Eklavya staggered as the technique ended. Blood spilled from the corner of his mouth as his vision blurred for a brief moment. He clenched his teeth hard to suppress the surge of pain radiating from his depleted core.

  He had used this technique before—but never with such refined control. Never after pushing his body so far beyond its limits. Only now did he fully grasp the cost.

  The refinement he had achieved through relentless training had magnified the technique’s power far beyond its previous incarnation. The spiritual ki it consumed, however, was equally devastating.

  After a night spent running through Pranahara, slaughtering beasts and evading pursuit without rest, he had already been operating on reserves. Now, nearly all of his remaining ki had been torn away in a single strike.

  He had barely enough strength left to unleash even one more technique. He wiped the blood from his lips. His breathing was shallow, but controlled.

  Before weakness could claim him, he forced his body to move. Appearing beside the remaining one-star master in a flicker of motion, he brought his sword down in a clean, merciless arc. The man’s head severed before fear could even register.

  The body collapsed into the lake moments later, adding yet another layer of crimson to the water. Almost simultaneously, the four-star master warrior launched himself forward. His aura flared violently as he poured everything he had into a final assault.

  Regret flickered briefly through Eklavya’s thoughts—not fear, but calculation. ‘I should not have used that technique,’ he admitted silently, parrying the incoming blade as sparks erupted from the collision. ‘Had I known the cost would be this severe…’

  There was no time to finish the thought. Their swords clashed repeatedly in midair, each strike releasing bursts of ki that shattered the surface of the lake below. Plumes of water erupted skyward.

  The four-star master fought desperately, drawing upon every ounce of his cultivation. Yet with each exchange, it became increasingly clear that he was being overwhelmed.

  Eklavya forced his remaining ki into speed rather than strength. His movements accelerated until his figure became little more than a distorted blur—too fast for the master warrior’s eyes to track.

  In a single decisive motion, he slipped past the final guard and drove his sword straight through the man’s chest. The four-star master’s body stiffened. Blood poured from his mouth, staining his chin before dripping into the lake below as his strength rapidly ebbed away.

  He turned his head slightly, disbelief etched across his features.

  “You… who are you really…?” Eklavya did not answer. He withdrew his blade.

  The lifeless body fell backward into the lake, sending another heavy splash across water that had long since lost its purity. Moments later, Eklavya appeared before the remaining practitioner warriors.

  They had finally managed to steady themselves, but remained frozen in place, faces pale as they stared at the scene of absolute slaughter before them.

  Thunder rolled loudly overhead once more, echoing like judgment passed by the heavens themselves. Eklavya’s voice cut through the sound with chilling clarity. “Anyone who comes to kill me will meet the same fate.”

  The strongest among the practitioners—a man who had carried himself like a lion moments earlier—felt his courage crumble completely. He dropped to his knees, voice shaking uncontrollably.

  “We… we were not here to hunt you,” he stammered.

  “Our leader sensed you and ordered us to attack, but this was never our mission. It was his decision, not ours. Please… please let us go.” Eklavya regarded them in silence for a long moment.

  “Then tell me,” he asked calmly, “why were you here in the first place.”

  The disciple swallowed hard. “A month ago, we received word that a rare medicinal treasure had appeared in this mountain range,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “The Heavenly Ki Spirit Herb.”

  Magha’s voice stirred faintly within Eklavya’s mind, tinged with rare interest. ‘The Heavenly Ki Spirit Herb…’

  ‘What is it?’ Eklavya asked silently.

  ‘I will explain later,’ Magha replied.

  Eklavya nodded almost imperceptibly and turned his gaze back to the trembling disciples. “Where is it?”

  “We were told it lies beyond this valley or in this valley,” the man answered hastily. “That is all we know. Please… can we leave now?”

  Eklavya inclined his head slightly. “You may,” he said. “But not in the way you think.”

  Before they could react, a demonic spirit needle emerged from between his brows. It flashed with dark red light as it shot forward, piercing through each practitioner warrior in rapid succession—including the kneeling master among them.

  One by one, their bodies collapsed into the lake. The water, already red, deepened into a darker, heavier hue as blood spread outward, thickening the surface until it reflected nothing but death.

  There should not have been this much red, as it was now.