The forest had grown eerily silent. Only the occasional rustle of leaves or distant cry of a fleeing beast broke the stillness.

  For the past three days and nights, Li Yan had moved through the Tier-1 Hunting Ground like a phantom—swift, silent, and merciless. One beast pack after another fell to his blade. Each strike was clean, precise, and deadly, leaving behind trails of blood and silence.

  His aura was as sharp as a honed edge.

  Rest came only in fleeting moments—by consuming high-tier beast meat or Qi Replenishment Pills to restore his Qi, or by slipping into short meditative trances to refine his Killing Aura.

  Every breath of meditation, shaping the Killing Aura into something tangible, something deadly, molding it into a blade that cuts through hesitation and fear alike.

  By the afternoon of the fourth day, golden sunlight pierced the canopy, glinting off the crimson-stained ground. Li Yan stood amidst the hulking corpses of an Earthly Bear pack, his sword dripping with blood.

  His gaze locked on the beast core hovering above one of the corpses—a faintly pulsing orb radiating Earth Qi. "The hundredth core," he murmured, satisfaction flashing through his eyes.

  With this, his goal for this hunt had been achieved. Now he had 173 Tier-1 beast cores toward the thousand he needed.

  He looked down at his weapon, running a thumb over the fine cracks lacing the blade. "Looks like I’ll need to buy a new one when I get back," he muttered.

  Sheathing his sword, Li Yan turned toward the path leading back to the sect. The late-afternoon breeze carried the scent of earth and wildflowers as sunlight filtered through the leaves in shifting patterns.

  His pace was calm, unhurried. The hunt was over—for now.

  On his way back, Li Yan’s gaze drifted toward the towering White Rank Leaderboard. His name gleamed at the very top—

  1st – Li Yan Tian – Qi Gathering Realm (Stage-7) – 1,473 Hunts.

  Below him—

  2nd – Mu Fan – Qi Gathering Realm (Stage-Peak) – 914 Hunts.

  Li Yan’s lips curved faintly. "Five days left before the leaderboard resets. Hm… perhaps enough for one more run," he murmured, eyes narrowing slightly. "Let’s see how far they’ll push themselves."

  With that thought in mind, he continued toward the teleportation portal, his steps unhurried but purposeful.

  The very next moment, Li Yan emerged from the other side of the teleportation portal and made his way to the sect’s grand assembly area. The setting sun stretched its last golden rays across the courtyard, bathing the stone tiles in a warm glow.

  Moving swiftly and silently, he passed through clusters of disciples on his way to his residence. His expression remained unreadable—only the faint stiffness in his shoulders betrayed the fatigue that clung to him like a shadow.

  The door to his residence unlocked with a soft click using his disciple badge. He entered quietly, exhaling a long breath. Without delay, he removed his robe and stepped into the bathroom.

  Sinking into the hot water, Li Yan let the heat seep deep into his bones. His muscles loosened under the warmth, though his mind remained sharp.

  "Tomorrow, I’ll exchange the beast corpses," he thought aloud, voice a low murmur against the sound of rippling water. "And I’ll need a new sword before heading out again."

  For a brief moment, his eyes closed—not in rest, but in quiet contemplation.

  When he was done, he dressed and moved to the living area, where he unpacked the food he’d bought from the stalls on his way back.

  Once finished eating, he retired to his bedroom and soon drifted into sleep, his breathing even and calm.

  *****

  The next morning, at dawn, Li Yan opened his eyes, fully rested. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, he began to refine the untamed killing aura left from his last hunt.

  His breathing slowed, Qi flowing steadily through his meridians. After nearly thirty minutes, the sharp aura around him dissipated into stillness.

  He rose, refreshed, straightened his robe, and left the room.

  The sect outside was already alive with activity—disciples heading to training fields, elders overseeing morning drills for newcomers.

  Li Yan stopped by a stall for breakfast before making his way toward the exchange room in Sect’s Core Hall.

  Inside, Elder Qiu Xuan stood behind a long counter, checking records and counting beast cores. His sharp eyes lifted as Li Yan approached.

  "Back already, boy?" Qiu Xuan asked with mild amusement, handing him an empty storage ring.

  Li Yan gave a short nod and silently began transferring the beasts’ corpses from his own ring to Qiu Xuan’s.

  Qiu Xuan raised an eyebrow as he examined the contents.

  "Impressive haul," Qiu Xuan remarked, tapping a small crystal scale that flickered to life. After a moment, glowing numbers appeared in the air. "Four thousand, four hundred and sixty-five Shadow Points in total."

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  Li Yan summoned his disciple badge to receive Shadow Points from Qiu Xuan. A faint pulse of light flashed over Li Yan’s disciple badge as the points were added.

  Li Yan nodded his head and turned to leave the exchange hall.

  Outside in the corridor, he glanced at the badge and channeled his Qi. The number 5,185 appeared in faint golden light.

  A quiet smile crossed his lips. "With this, I can finally afford the Mortal-Tier Mid-Level Body Tempering Technique."

  But the smile faded as quickly as it came. "No… If I buy that now, I’ll only have 185 points left. Not enough for food… and definitely not enough for the sword I need."

  He exhaled softly and looked toward the far end of the hall, where a massive bronze door stood—the sect’s treasury. His steps grew deliberate as he walked toward it, murmuring under his breath, "I’ll buy the technique after my next hunt."

  Li Yan stepped inside, his eyes scanning the familiar surroundings.

  The treasury’s interior was quiet and solemn, lit by soft Qi lanterns that cast a pale, steady glow across the vast hall.

  Li Yan walked toward the counter where Han Yujie usually sat—but it was empty today.

  He frowned slightly and looked around. Just as he was about to call out, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed from deeper within the hall.

  From behind a row of weapon racks, Han Yujie appeared, dressed in flowing green robes, her aura steady and composed. Beside her walked a young female disciple clad in azure, indicating she was a cultivator of the Qi Channeling Realm (Qi Master).

  The girl couldn’t have been older than eighteen, yet her movements were refined, practiced. Her black hair flowed down to her waist like a silken river, and her dark eyes shimmered with alert intelligence.

  With high cheekbones, a straight nose, and soft lips, she carried a quiet beauty—one that faintly resembled Han Yujie’s. Tall and slender, yet clearly well-formed, the young woman’s confident poise betrayed both discipline and pride. She moved gracefully but with a hint of impatience.

  As Han Yujie spotted Li Yan, a warm smile touched her lips. "Oh, Li Yan, you’re back again. What brings you here today?"

  Li Yan stepped forward and bowed slightly, cupping his fists. "Greetings, Elder Han. I hope you’re doing well."

  "I need a new sword."

  Han Yujie tilted her head slightly, brows lifting in mild surprise. "A new sword? You just bought one last week. What happened to it?"

  Without a word, Li Yan lifted his hand. A flicker of light pulsed, and a sword appeared above his palm—its blade chipped and fractured, spiderweb cracks running along its edge.

  "This one," he said evenly, "is already broken."

  Both Han Yujie and the young disciple blinked in unison. Han Yujie’s eyes narrowed as she studied the weapon more closely, surprise flickering across her composed expression.

  At Li Yan’s current cultivation, a standard Tier-1 blade should have lasted months—perhaps years—under normal use. Yet this one looked as if it had survived a small war. Her lips parted as if to ask, but she stopped herself.

  Behind her, the younger disciple’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. Though she said nothing, her gaze lingered on the fractured sword, then shifted to Li Yan, assessing him quietly.

  After a pause, Han Yujie turned toward the young disciple behind her. "Alright, Ning’er, go back to your training. I’ll join you shortly."

  The disciple—Zhu Ning—visibly tensed. Her fine features tightened into a small frown as she muttered, "Yes, mo… Master."

  The trace of frustration in her tone didn’t go unnoticed. She gave Li Yan a brief, sharp look, her expression faintly annoyed, before turning on her heel and exiting the treasury.

  Li Yan raised an eyebrow slightly as he watched her retreating figure. "She seemed irritated… but why?" he mused silently.

  Han Yujie only shook her head, a faint, amused smile curving her lips. "That girl still hasn’t changed."

  Li Yan turned toward her, curiosity glinting in his eyes. "Elder Han, if I’m not mistaken… she’s not just your disciple, but your daughter as well, isn’t she?"

  Han Yujie sighed softly, a trace of maternal weariness crossing her face. "Yes, you’re right. I promised to help her with her craftsman training today."

  Li Yan noted her words silently. "So Elder Han is a craftsman too… interesting."

  Then Li Yan nodded politely. "Then I must’ve interrupted your plans. I’ll come back later if you want to go."

  She waved a hand dismissively. "Nonsense. You’re one of the few young disciples who actually takes things seriously. I don’t mind the interruption."

  Han Yujie’s professional tone returned as she asked, "Now, tell me—what Tier of sword are you looking for this time?"

  "Tier-2 or Tier-3," Li Yan replied without hesitation. "But neutral—I don’t want any elemental affinity bound to it."

  "Of course," she said with a knowing smile. "Follow me. I had a feeling you’d return soon, so I’ve already set aside a few suitable options since the sect leader reorganized them last time."

  Li Yan followed her deeper into the treasury, nodding with quiet gratitude. "Thank you, Elder Han. I appreciate your foresight."

  Han Yujie smiled faintly as her robes fluttered behind her. "You’re welcome, Li Yan."

  Without another word, Han Yujie gestured toward a row of six neatly arranged shelves. "These hold neutral artifacts. Starting from the right—Tier-1—and increasing in power toward the left. The seventh shelf contains Tier-6 artifacts."

  Li Yan nodded in understanding and stepped toward the second shelf. Tier-2 weapons were arranged with care—eight in total: a bow, two spears, a sword, two shields, a dagger, and a hammer.

  Though old and clearly used, each weapon had its own weight of experience. He reached for one of the swords, testing its weight. The balance was decent, but when he compared it with the similar sword beside it, he could feel the difference in refinement.

  A few trial swings later, he picked the better of the two.

  However, Li Yan didn’t stop there. His gaze drifted to the third shelf—Tier-3 artifacts—and upon seeing the variety and condition, he quietly put the Tier-2 sword back.

  "Some of these look almost new," he thought as he studied the display.

  This shelf held around twenty items, and his eye found only three swords among them.

  Li Yan’s attention was captured by one of the three Tier-3 swords. That one stood out—sleek and elegant. It had a slim silver blade etched with intricate golden patterns, and its hilt shimmered with a blend of purple, silver, and gold.

  The matching scabbard carried the same tri-color theme, making it as eye-catching as it was refined with excellent material.

  He turned toward Han Yujie. "What’s the price for this sword?"

  Han Yujie responded immediately, as if anticipating the question. "Tier-3 artifacts typically cost two hundred and fifty Shadow Points. However, since these are in use, the sect leader approved a 50% discount. So this one costs a hundred and twenty-five."

  Li Yan’s expression didn’t change, though his eyes narrowed slightly. "Is this discount exclusive to me, or does it apply to everyone?"

  Han Yujie chuckled softly. "I knew you’d ask that. No worries—the price is the same for all disciples, if they are keen on using weapons."

  Li Yan nodded in satisfaction. "Alright then. I’ll take this sword."