His path was set. He would rise. He would reach the peak.
He would break every limit, scatter every shackle, and stand unvanquished in the heavens, in the abyss, and in the Oblivion Realm.
---
The clone twisted his lips into a faint smirk, clearly aware of Morca's thoughts, yet choosing not to comment.
There was something unsettling about that smile— calm, knowing, as if he had foreseen everything that would come next.
Morca's vision began to blur, shadows closing in like a heavy fog, and the last thing he saw before darkness consumed him was the clone's rare smile, serene and enigmatic. It felt like he was being told, "I know exactly what you're thinking."
---
When Morca's consciousness finally returned to his physical body, an overwhelming surge of energy coursed through him. It was as if his entire being was undergoing a grand metamorphosis. Everything that had occurred in that mysterious domain now repeated in reality. His breakthrough from the Awakened Rank to the Saint Rank replayed in real-time, complete with the evolution of his core. At thesame time, he also bypassed an entire cultivation stage, immediately stabilizing at the Silver Rain Stage... a feat that was nearly unheard of.
Mana in the surroundings roared toward him in torrents, rushing through his pores like a tidal wave. Every single cell in his body glowed faintly with a silver hue. His muscles, veins, and meridians shimmered, laced with a metallic brilliance. The energy within him danced like coiling serpents, waiting for his command. His mind was eerily calm, as cool and steady as a frozen lake, ready to absorb, calculate, and execute.
Moments passed before Morca slowly opened his eyes.
Yes!, both of them.
His left eye, a swirling abyss of ink-black chaos, absorbed the ambient mana like a bottomless pit. The right eye, on the other hand, glowed a piercing crimson red, vibrant and sharp, as if it could cut through illusions and see into the very fabric of reality.
He scanned the space around him.
Everything looked clearer, sharper. Details popped with uncanny precision. It was as if the very molecules in the air whispered their secrets to him. But then, his gaze fell upon a specific darkened corner of the cave—and he frowned.
A grin then crept up the side of his mouth.
"She's here… but why is she hiding in the shadows? If not for the system's notification, I wouldn't have even noticed. What kind of skill is she using?" he mused.
With a quiet breath, Morca closed his eyes again, choosing to wait and observe. The thought of being attacked didn't even cross his mind. If she had intended to strike him down, she wouldn't have waited for him to awaken. Still, he remained cautious, subtly raising his defenses in case something unexpected happened.
Then it did.
The air behind him shifted... a sudden, violent tremor like a bowstring snapping. Something was coming. An arrow of energy, silent yet deadly, was about to pierce his heart from behind. In that split-second, an epiphany bloomed within Morca's mind, echoing a lesson once whispered by the clone:
"If I can cancel my presence and erase my body… then I can also..."
He didn't finish the thought. Instincts took over.
He willed his cells to disperse, merging with the drifting molecules of darkness and shadow surrounding him. The darkness responded. It wrapped around him like a protective cocoon, smothering his presence. For a heartbeat, his figure turned pitch-black—untraceable. Then, just as suddenly, he reappeared, visible but untouchable.
The arrow struck.
No sound of impact. No grunt of pain. No blood.
Just silence.
Morca sat there—unharmed, serene.
The quiet shattered with the echo of soft footsteps drawing near.
From the shadows emerged a female figure dressed entirely in black. Her outfit clung to her frame, accentuating an aura of dangerous allure. Her long black hair, streaked with strands of crimson, flowed freely down her back, brushing against her waist. A stylish black hat sat atop her head, casting a veil of mystery over her presence. Below it, a sleek black mask adorned with intricate silver patterns concealed her face. Only her eyes were visible—glowing, fierce sapphires that could pierce through any pretense.
She was a born temptress of ruin—an abyssal beauty that could doom cities and planets alike. Her aura radiated command, the air bending slightly in her presence.
Morca stood up, a small, satisfied smile forming on his lips.
He had succeeded in his experiment.
His enlightenment had borne fruit. "If I use the 'Blank' skill to cancel my presence and merge my body into surrounding darkness and shadow, it becomes near impossible for others to see, sense, or touch me. So, if others cannot interact with my existence, can't I also evade their attacks altogether?"
Testing the theory, he had blended seamlessly into the shadows and darkness in the environment, fusing his very cells with the drifting elements. His body remained seated, but in essence, it had become something intangible. Visible—but untouchable.
The Three Principles of the Unique Skill: Blank
1. First Principle—Darkness and Scent: In absolute darkness, even the sense of smell falters. Thus, within pure darkness, no one can perceive his presence.
2. Second Principle—Vision and Mystery: When enveloped in shadow, the eye falters. In such darkness, everything becomes mystery; if Morca blends perfectly, he becomes invisible.
3. Third Principle—Shadow and Form: Everything has a shadow; man, beast, weapon, even an attack. A punch, a kick, a slash, a spear thrust... all are accompanied by shadows.
Morca's trick was simple: if he could merge into shadow molecules, then when shadow met shadow, the attack would slip right through him. He became intangible, and thus, invincible to those methods.
---
As for how he made himself visible again? Even he didn't fully understand. He had simply reduced the flow of darkness molecules from his cells—just enough to reveal his form, but not his essence.
The mysterious girl tilted her head and spoke with a mischievous lilt, "As expected of Morca Sherman… or should I call you Crimson-Black?"
Morca's eyes narrowed.
"She knows my alias?" It wasn't surprising that she knew his name—but that name? Very few were even aware of it. She clearly knew more about him than he did about her. Without the system, he wouldn't even know she was here.
"You seem surprised," she continued. "I merely called you by your name… and perhaps that other name only a selected few know. Don't look at me like that—I didn't come here to watch you frown. Mask your emotions, please. Let it all out later, after I'm gone."
Morca calmed himself with a breath. She's right. I need to master my expressions. If I let them slip, anyone can read me like a book.
"And why the attack?" he asked, direct and calm.
"Oh, that?" she laughed lightly. "I was curious. I've been watching you for the past five hours. You're quite the freaky one—dead but not dead, and then suddenly breaking through in the middle of the trial. I stand right in front of you, yet I can't feel your presence. And then my attack… passed right through you. Honestly? It baffled me."
Morca didn't waste more words. "So… what do I owe the honor of your presence?"
"Straight to the point. I like that," she said, then paused and sniffed the air dramatically. "Something on you… it calls to me. Something related to poison. I don't know exactly what it is, but I want it."
"Be more specific."
"I can't be," she said with a sly grin beneath the mask. "But I'm willing to trade something of equal value."
Morca studied her intently, then turned to the system notification floating in front of him.
-----
[System Notification]
System has detected host Bound. Host must fulfill Bound's request, as a Bestower Gift to Bound.
Note: Even the Poison Crystal is not enough, but since that is what she needs now, take this opportunity to give her the Bestower Gift.
---
[Bound Profile]
Name: Noe Laura Nihility
Gender: Female
Race: Oblivion Dragon
Status: Morca Sherman Nihility's Bound
Rank: Saint
Talent: SS+
Bloodline: Black Scale Oblivion Dragon
-----
A Bestower Gift? Morca raised an eyebrow in his mind. System, are you her parent or something?
Of course, no answer came. There never was.
He turned toward the gir... or rather Noe Laura, and with a flick of his wrist, brought out a 6-Star Dark Oak Poison Crystal, the spoils of his victory against the green-scaled Snakeman in the DX 1.5 Dungeon.
The moment it appeared, Noe Laura's aura shifted violently. It was as if something inside her snapped.
She lunged at him, eyes wide with obsession, desperate to claim the crystal—
But before she could touch it, the Poison Crystal vanished into thin air…
---
A/N
Guys how did you see the principles of unique skill blank?
Drop your thoughts at the comments section...
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