The forest broke behind him.
Leaves drifted in slow motion as Rykarion stepped into the clearing, the sunlight finally touching his face again. His boots crunched over dry grass, golden Qi faintly trailing behind him like mist slipping off a blade.
He blinked at the scene before him.
An open stretch of land—flat, scattered with rocks and broken branches. A few carriages parked near the edge, half-covered by tarps. A campfire smoldering low. Tents. Makeshift flags. Swords stabbed into the ground. And people.
Cultivators.
Some were gearing up—tightening belts, polishing blades, checking talismans.
Others sat around the fire, tending to injuries, muttering about the beast that attacked earlier. A few stood in groups, wearing matching robes. A sect, maybe. Their emblems shared a silver crescent moon.
But none of them had pressure.
Not real pressure.
Rykarion scanned the group with a casual glance, and the system pinged lightly in his mind.
[Analyzing cultivators…]
• 14 Qi Condensation
• 8 Early Foundation
• 3 Mid Foundation
• 1 Peak 7th Stage Foundation – Affiliated with Silver Crescent Sect
Threat Level: None.
He sighed, quietly.
"…Lower realm, alright."
He stepped forward, the soft rustle of his robe drawing a few eyes.
They turned.
Slowly.
Then more turned.
Someone paused mid-conversation.
Another's eyes narrowed.
A few stood up.
The aura around him wasn't loud, but it wasn't quiet either. It felt like a storm hidden in silence. Like a dragon walking with its fangs tucked away… but only for now.
A boy around Rykarion's physical age—maybe 17—walked up, sword strapped across his back. His robes were dirtied, a cut still bleeding under his eye.
He cleared his throat.
"You… from around here?"
Rykarion tilted his head.
"No."
He looked toward the mountains in the distance, the clouds shifting in a lazy spiral above them.
"Which way's the nearest city?"
The boy blinked, surprised by the voice. Calm. Firm. Like someone used to being obeyed.
He hesitated. Then pointed east. "You'll want to follow the river trail. About a day and a half if you don't have a flying beast. Two days if you walk. It leads to Moonveil City."
Rykarion nodded.
"Thanks."
He turned, ready to move.
But the boy didn't step back.
"…Wait," he said. "You're a rogue cultivator, right? You traveling alone?"
Rykarion paused.
"Yeah."
"You might want to be careful," the boy added. "There's been movement near the city. Bandits. And some rogue sects trying to expand territory. If you're not affiliated, they might try something."
Rykarion's eyes narrowed slightly.
He glanced at the group behind the boy—some whispering now, some pretending not to stare. The one at peak 7th stage stood farther off, watching closely but saying nothing.
"…Let them try," Rykarion said softly, almost like a whisper.
And then he walked past.
Just like that.
The grass behind him bent.
The boy felt a pressure hit him—not from killing intent, but from presence. Like watching a mountain shift and realizing it was never a mountain… but a beast sleeping all along.
He didn't even ask his name.
Just watched the strange silver-haired young man fade into the horizon—headed toward Moonveil City.
And the boy, still standing there, finally muttered under his breath—
"…Who the hell was that guy?"
The clearing stayed quiet for a moment after Rykarion disappeared into the distance.
The wind blew softly, stirring the edges of the tents. Embers from the fire drifted upward. But no one said anything. Not right away.
Then someone finally let out the breath they'd been holding.
"…That guy," one of the cultivators muttered, still gripping the hilt of his sword, "he looked human, right? But—he didn't feel human."
Another nearby, a girl with a torn sleeve and burns on her forearm, nodded quickly. "I didn't even sense any spiritual pressure. But that silence? That's the worst kind. It's like… everything around him didn't dare to move."
The boy who spoke to Rykarion—Elren, a junior disciple of the Silver Crescent Sect—was still staring eastward, as if the dust from Rykarion's steps hadn't settled yet.
"He looked about our age," he said quietly. "But his eyes… they weren't young."
A gruff voice joined in.
It was Master Daren, the 7th stage Foundation cultivator, standing with his arms crossed, his long saber resting beside him.
"Eyes like that," Daren said, "are usually earned. Or… remembered."
A silence fell again.
Then one of the other disciples scoffed, trying to shake the tension.
"Come on, he's just some lone cultivator trying to act cool. You saw his robe—it wasn't even marked. He probably found some mid-grade manual and thinks he's untouchable."
"Then why didn't you step up?" another snapped. "You were the first to stop talking the moment he walked out of the trees."
The first one opened his mouth, then closed it.
Daren stepped forward, gaze heavy.
"He had no cultivation pressure. Not even a ripple. And that's exactly what makes it dangerous."
He looked at Elren.
"What was the first thing you noticed?"
Elren thought for a moment.
"…The way the wind stopped."
"Exactly."
Daren looked toward the mountains. "When beasts sense something stronger than them, the forest goes quiet. That silence followed him like a shadow."
Another girl spoke up, younger, barely Qi Condensation stage. She had been the one healing the wounded just moments ago.
"I felt like bowing," she whispered. "I didn't mean to. But my knees felt… weak. Like my body knew something I didn't."
That hit harder than they expected.
More silence.
Then Daren spoke again.
"If he's heading to Moonveil, we should stay clear. At least until we know who he really is."
"But he looked human," someone else said, unsure now.
Daren nodded. "He did. But there are creatures in this world that wear human faces."
His hand rested lightly on the hilt of his saber.
"And some of them were born to rule over us."
---
Meanwhile…
Rykarion walked calmly through the trees that marked the edge of the forest trail.
The light dimmed under the canopy, but his vision adjusted easily. His senses stretched far ahead. He could hear the river in the distance. Smell damp moss. Even the heartbeat of a small animal watching him from a tree above.
He didn't look up. He didn't need to.
The creature fled seconds later.
He raised his hand slightly, letting the sunlight filter through his fingers.
"They think I'm human," he murmured. "That's good."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Let's keep it that way… until they give me a reason not to be."
And behind him, the air cracked softly.
Like something massive had just exhaled through the wind.