Cage of the Puppeteer | COTE x Xianxia

As I replayed the events of the fight in my mind, I carefully noted a few critical observations.
Cultivators were formidable-truly a league above anything I had encountered before. Even though this particular cultivator's presence felt weaker than that of the Shadowthorn Covenant Sect disciple I had seen earlier, his raw power far surpassed that of any enemy I had ever fought.
His strikes, Force Palm and Piercing Fang Thrust, were no mere techniques; they were devastating displays of energy. If even one of those attacks had connected, the consequences could have been dire. Force Palm could have inflicted severe internal damage, and Piercing Fang Thrust-had it struck a vital area-would have ended my life instantly.
This world is indeed a realm where strength dictates everything.
Here, death can come for the strangest reasons, often dictated by the whims of the powerful. This encounter was a perfect example-a middle-aged man, a so-called "Immortal," attacking a mere child with the intent to kill, all to avenge the perceived humiliation of his brutish nephew. The irony was not lost on me; his arrogance led to his demise, while I-a supposed victim-walked away unscathed.
In this rural area, there are no laws or systems of justice. The Shadowthorn Covenant Sect reigns supreme, oppressing the people without mercy. Life and death here are governed solely by power. Mortals are trampled underfoot, their lives deemed insignificant. No one would so much as blink at a handful of villagers disappearing, their fates sealed by the whims of those stronger than them.
Having now faced a cultivator firsthand, I've realized the inevitable: if I am to navigate this world, I must walk the same path.
Before, the idea of joining the Nightshade Monastery felt like a calculated decision, one fraught with potential risks. Their scrutiny, their rules, the looming shadow of a greater power-it all seemed like shackles on my autonomy. But this fight has shifted my perspective. Joining the Monastery isn't just an opportunity; it's a necessity. The loss of some freedom, if it even happens, is a price I am now willing to pay. Strength will be my path to true freedom-strength so absolute that no one would dare to obstruct my will.
Becoming a cultivator is no longer just a consideration; it is a resolution. It will allow me to uncover the mysteries of this world and my presence in it.
But before embarking on this path, I will settle the matters here in the village. It is not necessary, but I want to experience it-to know what it means to assist, to guide, and to leave something behind, however small.
There is no doubt in my mind. My path is set, and I will walk it without hesitation. In the end, I will be the one to hold the reins of my own fate.
...
When I arrived back in the village, the moon had already climbed high into the darkened sky, its pale light casting long, eerie shadows across the quiet streets. The faint hum of nocturnal life and the flickering lanterns were the only signs of movement, painting an unsettling serenity over the settlement. My steps were quiet as I made my way to Zi Tu's home, my thoughts still lingering on the future.
The moment I opened the creaking wooden door, Zi Tu was there, his face lined with worry. His weathered hands gripped his staff tightly, and his eyes scanned me from head to toe with an intensity that seemed out of character.
"Bái Xūé!" he exclaimed, his voice a mixture of relief and scolding. "You're back! What took you so long? I thought-" He hesitated, his voice faltering. "I thought something might have happened to you."
I paused in the doorway, my Tang Dao still strapped to my side, and studied his expression. There was genuine concern in his voice. His worry wasn't just about my late return; it was the kind of worry reserved for someone who mattered.
"I was delayed," I replied simply, stepping inside and placing my satchel on the table. "But I'm fine. There's no need to worry."
Zi Tu shook his head, his brow furrowing deeply. "You may think there's no need, but this world isn't kind, Bái Xūé. You're just a child-" He stopped himself, correcting his tone. "No, I shouldn't call you that. You've proven yourself far beyond your years. But even so, you're not invincible."
"I never claimed to be," I said evenly, my voice devoid of emotion. "But I can handle myself."
Zi Tu let out a long sigh, his shoulders sagging slightly. "That's what worries me. You act like you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, but you're still... young."
He hesitated, then walked over to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I owe you my life, and my son's too. That's a debt I can never repay. If something were to happen to you because of us-"
"It wouldn't," I interrupted, my tone firm but calm. "I've made my choices. Helping you and your son was part of that."
Zi Tu's eyes softened, his grip tightening briefly on my shoulder before he let his hand fall away. "You're far too composed for someone your age," he murmured, shaking his head. "I don't know whether to be grateful or concerned."
I opened my satchel, revealing the Frostshade Moss. The faint silver glow illuminated the room, casting an otherworldly light across Zi Tu's face. His eyes widened, and he stepped closer.
"You found it," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You actually found it."
"I did," I confirmed, setting the moss on the table. "It's enough to treat Zi Cheng. Let's not waste any more time."
Zi Tu's gratitude overflowed as he fell to his knees, bowing deeply until his forehead nearly touched the floor. "Bái Xūé, I don't have the words to thank you. You've done more for my family than I ever could have hoped. First me, now my son... You're a blessing to us."
"Get up," I said, my voice neutral. "I don't need your gratitude. Just follow my instructions carefully."
Zi Tu stood slowly, his eyes glistening with tears as he tried to blink away. "You truly are remarkable, Bái Xūé," he said softly. "I don't know where you came from, but... you've given me so much."
I didn't respond, turning toward the small room where Zi Cheng lay. "Let's save your son," I said flatly, signaling for Zi Tu to follow. The gratitude in his eyes was evident, but I didn't dwell on it. My focus was on the task ahead.
...
Zi Tu hurried behind me as I entered the small, dimly lit room where Zi Cheng lay. The air inside was heavy, carrying the faint scent of herbal remedies and the stale staleness of a room long closed off from the outside. A single lantern burned on the table beside the cot, its weak flame casting flickering shadows across the walls.
Zi Cheng lay motionless, his face pale and damp with sweat. His breathing was shallow, his chest rising and falling with an uneven, labored rhythm.
"He's been like this all day," Zi Tu said, his voice trembling. "He hasn't spoken, hasn't even opened his eyes. I was starting to think..."
"He's still alive," I cut him off, stepping closer to the man. "And that means there's still time. Fetch a bowl of hot water and clean clothes."
Zi Tu hesitated for only a moment before nodding and hurrying out of the room. I crouched beside Zi Cheng, examining him closely. His veins were faintly visible under his pale skin, darkened with an unnatural hue-a clear sign of the curse taking hold. The Frostshade Moss would be critical in countering its effects, but its preparation would require precision.
Moments later, Zi Tu returned with the items I requested. His hands trembled as he placed the bowl and cloths on the table, but his determination was evident.
"What do you need me to do?" he asked.
I didn't look up as I unwrapped the Frostshade Moss, its silvery glow casting an ethereal light over the room. "First, you'll need to hold him still. The process won't be pleasant, and he may react violently."
Zi Tu's face tightened with worry, but he nodded. "I'll do whatever it takes."
I took a deep breath, focusing on the task ahead. Carefully, I crushed the Frostshade Moss between my fingers, releasing a faint, almost icy vapor. The plant was cold to the touch, its properties already beginning to activate. Using a small pestle from Zi Tu's assortment of tools, I ground the moss into a fine paste, adding drops of hot water to create a thick, smooth mixture.
"This will burn," I warned, glancing at Zi Tu. "But it's necessary to draw the curse out."
Zi Tu nodded grimly, moving to the head of the cot and gently but firmly holding Zi Cheng's shoulders. "Do what you must," he said, his voice resolute.
I dipped a cloth into the paste, coating it evenly before pressing it against the darkened veins on Zi Cheng's arm. The reaction was immediate. Zi Cheng's body jerked violently, his eyes snapping open as he let out a guttural cry of pain. His veins seemed to writhe under the skin, the dark tendrils pulsating as the curse reacted to the treatment.
"Hold him," I told Zi Tu, my voice calm. Zi Tu tightened his grip, his face strained as he fought to keep his son still.
I continued to apply the paste, moving methodically from one affected area to the next. Each application drew more violent reactions, Zi Cheng's body arching and thrashing against the cot. His cries echoed through the room, but I didn't falter. My hands moved with precision.
After what felt like an eternity, Zi Cheng's struggles began to subside. His breathing remained ragged, but the dark veins beneath his skin started to fade, their ominous hue receding like shadows chased away by the dawn.
"It's working," Zi Tu whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "You're saving him..."
I glanced at him briefly before turning back to Zi Cheng. "The curse is retreating, but it's not gone. The paste will need to be reapplied twice a day for the next three days. Do you understand?"
Zi Tu nodded fervently, tears streaming down his face as he looked down at his son. "Yes, yes, I'll do it. Whatever it takes."
I stood, gathering the remaining Frostshade Moss and placing it carefully into a small jar. "This should be enough for the next few treatments. Keep him warm and ensure he drinks plenty of water. The rest is up to his body."
Zi Tu fell to his knees, bowing deeply. "Bái Xūé... I can never thank you enough. You've given my son back."
I stared at him for a moment, then turned toward the door. "You can thank me by following my instructions," I said flatly. "If you deviate from them, this will all have been for nothing."
With that, I left the room, the faint sound of Zi Tu's muffled sobs following me. The night air outside was cold and biting, but I welcomed its clarity. The villagers' lives were their own, but for now, my work here was done. My thoughts, however, drifted forward-towards the future and the path I would soon have to walk.
▬▬ι═══════ﺤ
Two weeks had passed, and the air in the village had shifted. The time when the recruiter from the Nightshade Monastery would arrive was drawing near, a moment I had quietly marked on my mental calendar.
In those two weeks, Zi Cheng had made a full recovery. The oppressive weight that once hung over Zi Tu's household had been lifted, replaced by an atmosphere of joy and relief. Zi Tu, once a man burdened by despair, now carried a lightness in his step and a constant smile on his face. His gratitude was boundless, and it radiated in every action he took toward me.
Zi Cheng, now fully healed, had returned to his vibrant self, wandering through the village with newfound energy. His recovery didn't go unnoticed by the villagers. Word spread quickly, and soon everyone knew I was the one responsible for saving him. My standing within the village rose sharply, with even the most skeptical among them now regarding me with a mixture of respect and admiration.
Cai Genxin, the healer, approached me during this time, seeking advice. His questions were earnest, and while I didn't offer him anything extraordinary, I gave him a few points to refine his methods-details he seemed eager to implement.
I continued my training with unwavering focus. The fight with the cultivator lingered in my mind, a stark reminder of the brutal reality of this world. Strength wasn't just a luxury here-it was a necessity, the very foundation upon which survival was built. Each day, I pushed myself further, honing my skills with the Tang Dao and fortifying my body for whatever lay ahead.
But my time wasn't consumed solely by training. With Zi Cheng's treatment complete, I found myself spending more time with him and Zi Tu. Zi Tu, in particular, had grown increasingly warm toward me, treating me less like a guest and more like family. He started addressing me with the tone of a father, his words filled with a mix of pride and affection.
Zi Cheng, on the other hand, treated me like a younger brother, constantly seeking my company and sharing the small joys of village life with me. His gratitude was evident in every gesture, from the way he'd bring me water during training to the way he'd eagerly recount his day's activities. It was... new.
The concept of familial love was something I had never experienced before-not in the White Room, where relationships were clinical, nor even with Matsuo, the man who had shown me brief kindness during my time outside the White Room. Matsuo's presence had been a fleeting anomaly, bound by circumstance and overshadowed by my inevitable return to the controlled confines of my father's design.
Here, however, things were different. The time spent with Zi Tu and Zi Cheng felt... genuine. Or, at least, I think it did. It was a strange feeling, one I wasn't accustomed to. Yet, I didn't reject it. For someone who had spent his entire life as an instrument of calculation and precision, this unfamiliar warmth was oddly welcome.
One evening, as we sat by the hearth, I told them my decision.
"I'll be leaving the village soon," I said, my voice steady and matter-of-fact.
Zi Tu looked up from the wooden carving he had been working on, his smile faltering for a moment. "Leaving? Why so soon, Bái Xūé?"
Zi Cheng, sitting cross-legged by the fire, frowned. "But you just got here. Where will you go?"
"The recruiter from the Nightshade Monastery will arrive soon," I replied. "I plan to join them."
Zi Tu's expression grew solemn. "I see. It's a noble path, but a dangerous one. The sect... they are not kind to the weak."
"That's precisely why I'm going," I said. "Strength is a necessity in this world. Without it, survival is left to chance, and I don't believe in leaving my fate to chance."
Zi Tu nodded slowly, his gaze thoughtful. "You've already shown strength beyond your years, but I understand. If this is your decision, I won't try to dissuade you."
Zi Cheng's frown deepened. "I don't like it," he muttered. "You just became part of the village, part of our family. Why do you have to leave?"
I looked at him, my expression unreadable. "I helped you because it was necessary. But my path doesn't end here, and neither should yours. You have your father, your life here. Cherish it."
Zi Cheng didn't respond immediately, his eyes cast downward. Zi Tu reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his son's shoulder.
"You've done more for us than we could ever repay," Zi Tu said, his voice filled with gratitude. "Whatever path you walk, know that this will always be your home. Should you ever need shelter, you will find it here."
I nodded slightly, accepting his words without comment. The flickering firelight danced across the room, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch infinitely, much like the path ahead.
The night passed quietly, but the weight of my departure lingered in the air. My decision was made, but for the first time in my life, I wondered what it meant to leave something behind.
▬▬ι═══════ﺤ
A week passed, and 100 kilometers away from the small village where Ayanokoji resided, a striking figure cut through the sky with astounding speed. The man, middle-aged but exuding a vigor and strength unmatched, had long purple hair cascading down his back, sharp black eyes, and a chiseled, muscular build. His dignified yet handsome face held a faint air of aloofness, as if nothing in this world could truly challenge him.
He moved at an astonishing velocity, the air popping with each movement. If Ayanokoji were to witness this scene, he would immediately recognize the man's speed-it was supersonic. The man was traveling at Mach 1, a speed with which not even modern commercial airliners were traveling. A speed only by rivaled military fighter jets or the Concorde back on Earth.
Yet, even at this incredible pace, the man seemed unbothered, his expression calm as he flew effortlessly over the rugged, mist-shrouded terrain.
This cultivator was far beyond the realm of ordinary men, even leagues above the Qi Condensation cultivator Ayanokoji had encountered and defeated. His very presence in the skies seemed to dominate the landscape below.
As he sped through the air, his sharp gaze scanned the horizon. "Sigh... Twenty years in closed-door cultivation, and I return to this?" he murmured, his tone tinged with mild irritation. "Three villages left in our recruiting territory, all in the most rural, desolate areas. I doubt there will be anyone worth my time."
Just as he finished speaking, he suddenly frowned, his expression sharpening. "Hmm?" He slowed his flight slightly, tilting his head as if listening to something only he could hear. "My Divine Sense... there's a faint trace of Qi residue, roughly 80 kilometers from here, near a village? It's weak, lower stages of Qi Condensation, likely Stage 3 or 4, but it doesn't match the signature of the Shadowthorn Covenant Sect."
He floated midair for a moment, his robes billowing around him as his curiosity sparked. "Interesting. A cultivator operating this far out in such an insignificant area? Let's see what this is."
With that, his speed doubled. The sonic booms of his acceleration rippled across the landscape as he streaked forward, faster than before, his expression now one of focused intrigue. Despite the increased speed, he still appeared composed, his breathing steady and unlabored, a testament to his immense power.
Within two minutes, he arrived at the location where Ayanokoji had fought and killed Fang and his uncle. The clearing was serene at first glance, but his sharp senses immediately picked up on the disturbance in the air.
"Hoh," he murmured, descending gracefully to the ground. "A fight took place here."
He spread his arms slightly, and a wave of energy pulsed outward as his Divine Sense scanned the area. "Blood," he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he detected faint traces beneath the soil. He knelt, placing a hand lightly on the ground. "So they were buried."
Raising his fingers, he made a small gesture, and the earth trembled in response. The soil shifted, and the crude grave was unearthed, revealing the bodies of Fang and his uncle. The cultivator stood over them, his expression unchanging as he inspected their corpses.
"So, this is where the Qi residue originates," he said, noting the faint aura clinging to the older man's lifeless body. "But where is the one who killed them? There are no other Qi traces here."
His hand moved in intricate patterns, forming symbols in the air that glowed faintly before dissipating. "Reversal of Shadows."
The surrounding air shimmered, and spectral images began to form. Three shadowy figures appeared in the clearing, their faces obscured but their actions vivid. Two of the shadows belonged to the deceased men, while the third was smaller in stature-clearly a child, no older than 13.
The scene replayed itself in reverse, showing the child collecting Frostshade Moss, then being confronted by Fang and his uncle. The fight unfolded in stark detail-the calculated movements, the brutal efficiency, and finally, the cold execution. The young shadow's expression remained eerily calm throughout, devoid of fear, hesitation, or remorse, as if the entire event were nothing more than an exercise.
The cultivator watched intently, his brows lifting in surprise as the scene ended with the uncle's final desperate plea and the boy's unflinching blade. As the shadows faded, silence hung over the clearing.
And then the man burst into laughter.
"Hahahahahaha!" His voice echoed across the empty woods, his amusement booming and unrestrained. "A child! A mere child, not even a cultivator, outmaneuvering and killing a Qi Condensation cultivator in his thirties? What an extraordinary sight!"
He doubled over slightly, his laughter subsiding as a more serious expression replaced his amusement. "This boy..." He paused, glancing at the bodies before him. "This isn't just raw talent. His composure, his ruthlessness-it's as if he's void of emotion, a perfect instrument of logic and efficiency."
The cultivator stood in thought, his black eyes gleaming. "To achieve this without cultivation... he must have experienced something unimaginable to forge such a mindset. He's like a blade honed to perfection, cutting through obstacles without hesitation."
He stepped back, gazing toward the village visible on the horizon. His Divine Sense extended, sweeping over the area until it rested on a small house. Inside, the young man sat quietly, his expression unreadable even to the cultivator's keen observation.
"I must see him," the man said, his voice filled with quiet determination. "If he's this formidable now, imagine what he could become within the Nightshade Monastery. This boy-Bái Xūé, was it?-might just be the key to something far greater."
With a final glance at the clearing, he turned toward the village, the faintest smirk curling his lips. "Let's meet this monster of logic and see just how far his potential reaches." With that, he disappeared into the horizon, his figure a blur of motion, heading directly for Ayanokoji's location.
▬▬ι═══════ﺤ
The evening air was calm, the lantern's soft glow flickering against the wooden walls of Zi Tu's home. I sat near the hearth, the fire crackling gently, illuminating the room in a warm, shifting light. Zi Cheng was already asleep in the next room, and Zi Tu was nodding off in his chair, his breathing deep and steady. The peaceful atmosphere was a stark contrast to the chaos I had grown accustomed to in this world.
I leaned back, my eyes fixed on the dancing flames, my mind weaving through the events of the past two weeks. The path forward was clear now-joining the Nightshade Monastery was no longer just an option but an inevitability. Power ruled this world, and without it, survival was tenuous at best.
As I pondered, a sudden stillness blanketed the room. It wasn't the natural quiet of the night, but something far heavier, a silence that pressed against my senses. Instinctively, my hand moved to the Tang Dao resting at my side, my fingers wrapping around its hilt.
"You've made an impression, Bái Xūé."
The voice came without warning, smooth and calm, yet carrying an undeniable weight. I froze, my gaze snapping toward the source. There, standing soundlessly in the corner of the room, was a man draped in dark robes with faint gray patterns etched along the seams. His long purple hair flowed like a cascade of shadows, and his sharp black eyes gleamed with a mixture of curiosity and authority. He hadn't walked in. He hadn't opened the door. He was simply there.
I tightened my grip on the Tang Dao, my expression remaining neutral. "You are?"
The man smiled faintly-the kind of smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Sun Min," he said, inclining his head slightly. "An elder of the Nightshade Monastery."
An elder. Not a mere recruiter, but someone who held true power within the sect. The gravity of his position wasn't lost on me. Yet, I didn't let my guard drop. His sudden appearance, his soundless arrival-it all pointed to a level of strength and mastery far beyond anything I had encountered before.
Before him, I am nothing more than an insect-something he could extinguish with a mere flick of his fingers, without even a trace of effort.
"You've heard of us," he continued, stepping forward with deliberate grace. His movements were fluid, almost unnatural in their silence. "Good. It saves us time."
Zi Tu stirred slightly in his chair, mumbling something incoherent before settling again. Sun Min's gaze flicked to him briefly before returning to me.
"I've been watching," he said, his tone calm but laced with intrigue. "Two weeks ago, a Qi Condensation cultivator and his nephew met their end not far from here. A remarkable event, considering their killer wasn't even a cultivator."
I remained silent, my expression unreadable.
"You already know who I'm speaking of," he said, his smile widening slightly. "Don't you?"
I nodded. There was no point in prolonging this further than necessary. This man-Sun Min-already knew everything. He knew exactly what happened, who I had fought, and even the cultivation stage of the man I killed.
It was as if he had personally witnessed the entire event.
Denying it would be futile. His demeanor made it clear that any attempt to mislead him would only waste time, and wasting his time could be dangerous. Besides, this situation wasn't without merit. The fact that I had caught the attention of someone as powerful as him could benefit me. It could pave the way for my own ambitions.
"Yes," I said simply, my voice steady.
Sun Min's smile widened slightly, though his eyes remained sharp, assessing. "Good," he said, his tone carrying approval.
He paced slowly across the room, his movements as fluid as water, his presence still unnervingly soundless. His gaze flicked to the Tang Dao resting nearby, then back to me.
"The Qi Condensation cultivator you killed," he began, his voice calm but deliberate, "was weak by the standards of the cultivation world. A mere Stage Four-strong enough to oppress mortals but insignificant in the grander scheme. And yet, you defeated him without even cultivating Qi yourself."
I said nothing, letting his words hang in the air.
"Tell me," he continued, his tone taking on a faint edge of curiosity, "what drove you to kill him? Was it necessity? Pride? Or was it something else entirely?"
His question wasn't casual; it was probing, an attempt to understand me, to peel back the layers and see what lay beneath.
"Necessity," I replied, meeting his gaze directly. "He left me no choice. His presence was a threat, and eliminating threats is the most efficient course of action."
Sun Min's expression shifted, a flicker of intrigue passing across his face. He seemed to consider my words carefully, his head tilting slightly as though weighing their merit.
"Practicality over emotion," he mused. "Cold, calculated, and efficient. You don't simply act-you strategize, even under pressure. That alone sets you apart."
He paused, his sharp eyes studying me as though he could see beyond my exterior and into the core of who I was.
"You have the makings of something... exceptional," he said finally, his voice taking a deeper tone. "And that is why I'm here."
I didn't respond immediately. His words, while calculated, hinted at more than just idle flattery. This man saw something in me-something he deemed valuable.
"You're here to recruit me," I said, breaking the silence.
Sun Min's smile returned, faint but genuine this time. "Correct. As an Elder of the Nightshade Monastery, I've seen countless recruits and countless hopefuls. But you? You're not just a candidate. You're a force waiting to be unleashed. And I intend to see just how far that force can go."
I studied him carefully, weighing his words. The Nightshade Monastery was my goal, but the direct attention of someone like him could be both a blessing and a curse.
"And what do you want in return?" I asked, my voice measured.
Sun Min chuckled softly, a low, resonant sound. "What any sect wants from its disciples: loyalty, growth, and results. But make no mistake, Bái Xūé-you'll have to prove yourself every step of the way. The Monastery doesn't hand out power freely. You'll earn every ounce of it."
His words were clear, his intent sharper than ever. Joining the Monastery wouldn't be an escape-it would be a trial, a crucible.
But that was exactly what I needed.
"Then I accept," I said simply, my tone unwavering.
Sun Min's smile widened, and he nodded approvingly. "Good. We leave at dawn. Prepare yourself. The path ahead will not be easy, but it will be... enlightening."
With that, he turned, his movements silent as he crossed the room and disappeared into the shadows beyond the doorway.
I stood alone in the house, the weight of his words settling over me. The die was cast, and the path chosen. Whatever lay ahead, I would face it with the same resolve that had brought me this far.
This was the next step. And I would take it, no matter the cost.
...
The following morning, the house was quiet as I finished packing. Zi Tu and Zi Cheng stood near the doorway, their expressions a mix of pride and sorrow.
"Bái Xūé," Zi Tu began, his voice thick with emotion. "You've done so much for us. I... I don't have the words to express my gratitude."
Zi Cheng stepped forward, his hands gripping mine tightly. "Will you come back someday?" he asked, his voice trembling.
I paused, meeting his gaze. "Perhaps."
Zi Tu's hand rested on my shoulder, his grip firm but trembling slightly. "May the heavens watch over you, child."
I nodded faintly before turning to where Sun Min waited just outside, his presence as calm and imposing as ever. Without another word, I stepped forward, leaving the village and the life I had begun to build behind.
As we walked into the mist-shrouded forest, Sun Min glanced at me. "You'll find the monastery challenging," he said. "But I suspect you'll thrive."
I didn't respond, my mind was already focused on the path ahead. Challenges or not, I would carve out my place in this world. Power was no longer a distant goal-it was a necessity. And I would claim it, no matter the cost.
***
A/N: And with that the first arc (Arrival in the Vale) is finished. Now Ayanokoji's journey as a cultivator is about to begin.
This will be the last chapter this year and as much as I would want to make more chapters, updates will unfortunately slow down a bit till March due to my university exams which will take place between February and March.
I will still try to publish 5 chapters a month but they will be similar in length to this chapter (4-5k words) though don't hold me on that.
Till then, until next year!