"Sir, when will they depart for the hunt?" Sogen asked.
"Tomorrow," Mr. Rudriger replied without looking up from the weapon he was polishing.
Sogen hesitated. "Sir… may I take two days off?"
Mr. Rudriger finally raised his head. For a moment he looked puzzled—then, as if realizing something, a faint, weary smile tugged at his lips.
"Boy, are you planning to steal their prey?"
Sogen said nothing.
The old craftsman let out a dry chuckle.
"Even if I forbid you, you will still go. I know that look in your eyes. I won't stop you—but listen carefully. Hide your identity. And be ready to bear every consequence that follows."
"Yes, sir."
Sogen bowed slightly and returned to his room.
Left alone, Mr. Rudriger stared at the doorway for a long time.
"Where does this brat get such courage?" he muttered. "To challenge a sect alone… His clan must be blind to exile a talent like him. Fools—every one of them."
Inside his modest room, Sogen sat cross-legged and summoned the golden interface of the system shop.
If I can refine the Earth Elusive Potion, I'll leap straight to the Fifth Mid Stage of the Earth Realm. My body will be tempered further—and the threshold to the King Realm will finally loosen.
His fingers hovered over the list of ingredients.
A knock interrupted his thoughts.
Sogen opened the door to find Mr. Rudriger standing there, an awkward expression on his face.
"Sir? Is something wrong?"
The old man cleared his throat. "I know you're still going. And I know why. The more those people gain, the more this town suffers. I can't fight beside you… but at least take this."
From behind his back he revealed a weapon—a long black chain with a crescent blade at its end. The metal looked worn, almost shabby, yet it exuded a faint, chilling aura.
Sogen's eyes sharpened. "Cold iron… and spirit-threaded alloy? Sir, this isn't ordinary at all."
He hesitated. "I can't accept this. The techniques you taught me were already priceless, but I can return those after learning them. A weapon is different—what if it breaks?"
Mr. Rudriger snorted. "If it breaks, then it was never worthy of you. Listen, boy—if you succeed and bring back the Ember Core, this blade will be yours. Its name is Dark Shadow Blade. In true darkness, it reveals its fangs."
His expression turned serious.
"And remember—no matter what happens, never let them know who you are."
Sogen accepted the weapon with both hands.
"I understand.
After the old man left, Sogen studied the chain blade for a while before storing it in his system inventory. Then his attention returned to the glowing shop panel.
"Yes… this is what I needed."
He selected an item.
Hidden Face – Mask
Cost: 10,000 System Coins
Effect: Perfectly conceals the wearer's identity. Even great cultivators cannot peer through its disguise.
"Confirm purchase."
The mask materialized in his palms—smooth, pale, almost alive to the touch.
He put it on and glanced at the small mirror on the wall.
For a moment he forgot to breathe.
The face staring back was completely natural, as if he had been born with it. No seam, no distortion—nothing.
"Terrifying," he whispered. "Even I would believe this is my real face."
He continued browsing and soon found all the herbs required for the Earth Elusive Potion. Just as he prepared to close the interface, another item caught his attention.
Stealth Suit (Grade 2)
Passive: Conceals presence and breathing
Active: Invisibility for 15 seconds
Cooldown: 4 hours
Cost: 30,000 System Coins
"A numerical grade classification… never heard of it. But these effects are absurd."
He purchased it without hesitation.
The moment he wore the suit and stood before the mirror—there was nothing. No reflection. No shadow. As if he had vanished from the world.
A slow grin spread across his face.
"Perfect."
Satisfied, Sogen stored everything and lay down to rest.
Tomorrow would be lively.
The Next Day – Valley of Burning Scales
Dust rose beneath frantic footsteps as a massive Ember Serpent slithered through the ravine.
"Don't get close to its tail!" a man roared. "It will crush you like grass! We've already lost too many—do not let it escape!"
The speaker was Vilkan, leader of the hunting party.
The serpent suddenly twisted and spat a torrent of green flames. Two cultivators were engulfed instantly, their screams echoing through the valley. They collapsed—still breathing, but barely.
Vilkan clicked his tongue. "What a cursed beast. Close in and it strangles us. Keep distance and it burns us alive."
"Sir Vilkan!" one of the hired hunters shouted. "These two are still alive! If we treat them now, they can survive. We should—"
"Leave them."
The words fell like ice.
"But—!"
"Shut your mouth." Vilkan didn't even look back. "Do you know how many men we've already lost? If we waste time on a pair of useless insects and the serpent escapes, everything will be for nothing. They came here knowing the risks. If they die, that is their worth."
The man trembled with rage—but dared not move.
Two groups had joined this hunt.
The first was Vilkan's elite squad.
The second—various small mercenary
teams hired with generous payment.
Officially, they were support.
In truth, they were bait.
Cannon fodder meant to bleed the monster while Vilkan's men preserved their strength.
No one said it aloud—but everyone understood.
And somewhere beyond the cliffs, a masked youth watched the scene with calm, indifferent eyes.