In the dimly lit hall of the Zhang family mansion, a delicate porcelain teacup shattered against the stone floor, shards scattering like splinters of rage. Grady Zhang's expression was thunderous, his fingers digging into the armrest of his ornate chair.
"Koel and the others failed?" His voice was cold, edged with disbelief. "That man was an Energy Gathering Realm martial artist, yet he couldn't kill a mere seventh-level body refiner?"
The gathered subordinates dared not lift their heads. A man who appeared to be the house steward stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Patriarch, Koel not only failed—he's dead. His Flynn Gun was sold in the market, and his body was discovered in the Eight Wonders Mountain."
Grady's nostrils flared as he exhaled sharply. "Useless!" He slammed his fist onto the table, the heavy wood groaning under the force. "Has word of this spread?"
The steward shook his head. "So far, there's no indication that the Martial Hall has taken any action. It seems the matter remains undisclosed."
Grady narrowed his eyes. "Good. Make sure it stays that way. I won't tolerate another failure."
...
Meanwhile, outside Novaridge City, a yellow-maned horse galloped through the gates, dust swirling in its wake.
Dustin adjusted his robes as he dismounted, shaking off the fatigue from his journey. Without wasting time, he made his way to Martial Hall, intent on heading to the Book Collection Pavilion to select a third-rank martial art.
The rules of the Martial Hall dictated that students who reached the seventh level of body refinement were entitled to choose one third-rank technique. Upon advancing to the eighth and ninth levels, they could each select an additional one.
As Dustin strode through the hall, numerous students took notice of him.
"Did you see that? His presence feels... different," one murmured.
"Yeah, when he walked past me, I felt an oppressive aura. Has he broken through to the eighth level?" another speculated.
"Impossible! Just a month ago, he was at the seventh level. Advancing so fast would be unheard of!"
Unbeknownst to them, Dustin's transformation was not just a matter of cultivation breakthroughs. The fusion of the Life and Death Beads had been subtly reshaping his physique and bloodline, altering his very essence. His recent experiences in life-and-death battles, the ruthless honing of his mind—had given him an entirely new demeanor.
As he approached the library, a figure materialized in his path.
It was an old man, clad in a simple white robe, hands folded behind his back, exuding a serene, almost ordinary presence. Yet Dustin's keen eyes, attuned to lifelines and energy flow, perceived the truth—this elder's meridians pulsed with overwhelming power, his acupoints brimming with vitality.
A Martial Master of the Innate Realm!
Dustin immediately recognized the elder—it was the same man who had evaluated him at the Hunters Guild.
"Elder," Dustin greeted, bowing respectfully.
The old man's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Dustin, come with me."
Following the elder, Dustin entered a secluded courtyard deep within the Martial Hall. Inside an attic chamber, the elder gestured for him to sit.
"I am Jeremy, one of the elders of the Martial Hall," the old man introduced himself, his tone calm yet carrying authority. "We've met before."
Dustin nodded. "Yes, Elder Jeremy."
Jeremy smiled, and then his gaze sharpened. "I've heard that you chose Pure Yang Skills from the Book Collection Pavilion. Is that true?"
"Yes, Elder."
Jeremy's expression shifted, a gleam of admiration flickering in his eyes. "You've broken through to the eighth level of body refinement in just a month. This isn't something that can be achieved with mere talent alone. You've already begun cultivating Pure Yang Skills, haven't you?"
Dustin nodded again.
Jeremy let out a hearty laugh. "Good! Very good! Among all the students in the Martial Hall, none can match your martial talent. Even in the entire Xandora County, you'd rank among the top ten!"
The elder leaned forward, his tone turning serious. "In two months, the Novaridge City Martial Competition will be held. Are you prepared?"
Dustin had naturally heard of the competition—it was an annual event where the top students of the advanced class, mainly those in the eighth and ninth levels of body refinement, fought for rankings and rewards.
"The student has only just entered the eighth level and the intermediate class. Competing against the advanced class seniors may be difficult," Dustin replied humbly.
Jeremy chuckled. "No need to be modest. The Martial Hall values strength, and those who prove themselves are rewarded. If you want better martial techniques, higher-quality resources—you must fight for them."
Leaving the elder's residence, Dustin's determination burned even brighter.
As Elder Jeremy had said, power dictated opportunity. The Novaridge City Martial Competition was a stepping stone—one he could not afford to waste.
His priority was selecting a suitable sword technique. He ascended to the second floor of the Book Collection Pavilion and chose the Thunder Sword Technique—a high-speed martial art known for its overwhelming swiftness.
"Speed is the key to breaking through any defense. This technique suits me well."
With his technique chosen, Dustin headed straight to the weapon shop. His previous Sharp Sword had been destroyed in battle, proving that ordinary blades couldn't withstand the power of true martial weapons.
Browsing the displayed weapons, a black longsword caught his attention.
The entire weapon—from the blade to the hilt—was deep black, unadorned yet exuding an ancient, unyielding aura. The hilt bore a single inscription: Dark.
Dustin lifted the blade. It was heavier than an ordinary longsword, but when he infused it with inner energy, it felt perfectly balanced, like an extension of his own body.
"The shopkeeper," Dustin asked casually, "how much for this sword?"
The shopkeeper, a shrewd-looking man, immediately brightened. "Ah, you have an excellent eye! This sword was recovered from ancient ruins and has been appraised by experts. Its material is extraordinary—even higher-grade weapons cannot damage it. It's priced at 800 low-grade vitality stones."
Dustin raised an eyebrow. "Eight hundred? For a low-grade weapon with only ordinary power? I've seen weapons of mid-grade human rank for the same price."
The shopkeeper hesitated, realizing his ploy wasn't working. "Well… I could offer it for 700 vitality stones. That's my lowest price!"
Dustin turned to leave. "I can check other shops."
The shopkeeper panicked. "Fine! 600 vitality stones! That's my final offer!"
Dustin studied the sword again. Something about it felt different as if there was hidden potential within its darkened steel.
After a brief pause, he nodded and completed the purchase.
Sheathing the blade, he murmured, "Shadow Sword. That will be your name."
This was the first true weapon he had ever owned. A new journey had begun.