The next day, the journey continued in tense silence. The carriage rolled steadily along the worn path, the rhythmic clatter of hooves the only sound filling the air — except for Yan Qing.
Unlike the mortals, who kept quiet after the bloodshed, the boy couldn't stop talking. He spoke of righteousness, of duty, of how a cultivator's strength should protect the weak, not crush them. His words droned on, a persistent buzzing in Lin Shu's ear.
Lin Shu kept his silence, eyes half-closed as he sat in the corner of the carriage. His fingers traced the hidden bone armor beneath his robes, a quiet reminder of his true path. He had considered shutting Yan Qing up, perhaps with a fist to the jaw, but something held him back.
Yan Qing was a mid-stage Rank 1. Lin Shu was close, but not there yet. Though he felt the next step drawing nearer with every breath, the gap between them still existed. Worse, Yan Qing had been at the institute longer. Who knew what techniques he had learned? He might even have a hidden background — a master or a clan backing him. Lin Shu hadn't heard of a "Yan Clan" around these parts, but Stormridge was vast. A mistake could cost him more than just a fight.
So he endured. Each righteous speech passed through him like wind against stone. Let the boy talk. Words meant nothing.
When they finally reached Willowbrook, Lin Shu watched with disinterest as the merchant handed off his goods to a local clan. The town itself was unremarkable, little different from Greenwood Hollow. They rested briefly before making the return trip, the days passing uneventfully.
Upon their return, Zhao Wei handed Lin Shu and Yan Qing their mission papers, now stamped with the seal proving the mission's completion. Lin Shu took his without a word.
One might wonder about the process. What stopped someone from threatening a contractor into handing over their seal without completing the job? Or worse — making them disappear entirely?
But the institute wasn't foolish. Every mission was recorded and tracked. If a contractor vanished, the institute conducted a full investigation. No one would risk hiring students if their past employers kept disappearing. If someone was caught and proven guilty… they wouldn't just pay with their own life. Their family, their clan — all would suffer.
Lin Shu tucked the paper into his robes, feeling the weight of it. Another step forward. Another mission complete.
Now, it was time to grow stronger.
Lin Shu claimed his mission rewards and left the hall without a word. His wealth now stood at 4,618 gold coins. Without hesitation, he headed back to the market, intent on buying the low-tier pills that would quicken his cultivation. He knew the risks — the impurities left behind would build up, slowly clogging his meridians like sludge in a river. If he didn't find a Crimson Flow Pill before it hardened, it would cripple his future. But what choice did he have?
Strength was all that mattered. Pills might poison his future, but weakness would kill him long before that.
He also needed a body refinement technique. The benefits were undeniable — greater strength, tougher bones, faster reflexes, and enhanced defense. His bone arsenal would grow sharper and harder, each weapon forged from his flesh turning into something closer to steel. But body refinement was a path paved with gold. Even a common technique could cost over 2,000 gold coins to complete all its stages. A better one? It could cost a fortune.
And that wasn't the only risk. Refining the body was a delicate art. If he later sought a higher-rank technique that clashed with the one he chose now, it could tear him apart from the inside. He needed to pick carefully.
His fingers tightened around the coins in his palm. The market wouldn't have what he truly sought. For that, he needed to find a black market — the kind of place where treasures and curses changed hands in the shadows. He wouldn't go looking just yet. First, he needed to fully master Lightning Steps and push his cultivation to the mid-stage of Rank 1. Only then would he be ready to hunt for the forbidden arts lurking beneath the surface of Stormridge.
For now, he would take the pills. Let his body burn with borrowed power. The future could wait.
Lin Shu spent a week training relentlessly, pushing his body and mind without rest. Two weeks had passed since he joined the institute, and he planned to take one last mission before the month ended — perhaps something involving beast hunting or collecting herbs and materials deep in the forest or mountains. But for now, he decided to take a short breather.
Curious if anything noteworthy had occurred during his isolation, he ventured into the institute's public lessons. If nothing else, he might learn something useful. What he found surprised him.
The instructor stood before the gathered students, his voice calm but commanding. "Today, we'll be discussing Binding Oaths — sacred agreements forged between two or more parties, sealed by the power of one's Qi and will. These oaths serve as contracts, enforcing the agreed-upon conditions with deadly precision. However," the man's gaze swept across the room, "they are not without loopholes. In fact, the clever often twist them to their advantage."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in before continuing. "Consider this scenario: you find yourself defeated by a demonic cultivator deep in the forest. Desperate to survive, you offer him something valuable in exchange for your life, and a Binding Oath is made. The condition? He must not harm or kill you. Seems foolproof, doesn't it?"
The instructor's lips curled into a cold smile. "But there's a fatal flaw. The oath is literal. You never specified that he couldn't lead a bloodbeast to your location, nor that he couldn't reveal your whereabouts to others. The oath only prevents him from striking the killing blow himself."
A few students shifted uncomfortably. The instructor pressed on. "To truly protect yourself, you must be precise. Demand that he does not harm or kill you, nor lead others — human or beast — to your trail. Furthermore, ensure the oath forbids him from following you or speaking of you to anyone else. Even then, Binding Oaths aren't eternal. Each oath has a set duration, agreed upon when the pact is made. Should you escape and the time limit expires, nothing stops him from hunting you down afterward."
His tone darkened, the weight of his next words hanging heavy in the air. "And if you dare to break a Binding Oath? The consequences are dire. At best, your cultivation will be crippled. At worst? You will die."
Lin Shu listened quietly, taking in every word. His mind spun with the possibilities — and dangers — of such a tool. In the hands of the clever, a Binding Oath could be as deadly as any blade. To survive in this world, he would need to wield it with the same cold precision.
The instructor's voice carried through the hall, steady and authoritative. "This is also how institutes and clans keep their battle skills and cultivation techniques a secret — through Binding Oaths. For example, if one of you wins a tournament or performs exceptionally well on a difficult mission, you will be rewarded. If that reward happens to be a battle skill or a cultivation technique, you would be required to swear an oath. The conditions would forbid you from ever writing it down, passing it to others, or even speaking of it. Additional clauses are added to prevent loopholes, ensuring the techniques remain protected."
Lin Shu listened carefully, his mind already weaving through the implications.
"I see… So that's how they keep their techniques hidden. It's not just loyalty or fear of punishment — it's a Binding Oath. If that's the case, then trying to extract skills from clan members or other institute disciples through force would be nearly useless. The oath would stop them from revealing anything."
His fingers lightly tapped against his bone armor beneath his robes.
"Still… not all hope is lost. There's always a chance. Some might carry techniques they found in ruins, stole, or bought off the black market. If I can find someone like that… well, they wouldn't have any oath protecting those secrets."
A cold smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. In this world, where strength dictated everything, secrets were as precious as life. If others refused to hand them over…He would take it by force. Even if they surrendered it willingly, their fate remained the same. No one could be left alive to speak of his actions — or his strength.