The kite, upon hearing the man's warning, quickly looked around cautiously, as if to see if anyone had noticed its earlier display. After confirming there was nothing around, it began gliding slowly toward what seemed to be the outline of a swampy region, shrouded in a green, hazy fog.
The swamp stretched on for miles. The entire area was known as the Green Fog Region due to the persistent green fog that hovered over it almost year-round. The fog itself wasn't poisonous, but it severely impaired the vision of all who ventured inside. This impairment not only affected physical sight but also restricted the spiritual sense of cultivators. For example, if a cultivator's range typically extended to a 200-meter radius, once inside the fog, that range would be halved to 100 meters.
When one broke through to the Core Formation Realm, they would develop a spiritual sense—a method of perceiving their surroundings without relying on their physical eyes, instead using their spirit. In many ways, it surpassed physical sight, though it placed considerable strain on the user during the early stages.
The cultivation world is treacherous. There was no shortage of techniques and spirit beasts that excelled in camouflage and invisibility. While a cultivator's eyes were sharper and capable of seeing farther distances than a normal person's, certain spells and techniques could easily fool them. However, with spiritual sense, as long as the one employing camouflage or invisibility techniques was within the same realm as the cultivator, they could be detected with careful attention. Therefore, most cultivators relied more on their spiritual sense than their other bodily senses when navigating unfamiliar places.
The Green Fog Region, however, puts a damper on that advantage by reducing the range of function for the spiritual sense. In addition to the fog, the presence of local spirit beasts and native cultivators posed another significant risk within the region.
Both parties had long adapted to the impaired visibility and restricted spiritual senses caused by the fog. Over time, they perfected their methods of attack, turning the fog's effects into an advantage. Their assaults were executed with extreme speed and ferocity, rendering a spiritual sense range of 100 meters almost useless. By the time someone sensed something amiss, it would already be too late—the strike would have landed. This was why most creatures in this area were not only highly agile but also venomous.
The kite, upon reaching the edge of the green fog, hovered directly above it, careful not to get too close. This caution was in line with the orders of its rider, who had stopped it as soon as they were within spitting distance of the swamp.
"Ellie, from here on, you need to take cover. I'll go in alone. If a situation arises that you can't handle, don't force yourself—just head straight to the nearest Order branch. The bracelet on your talons will grow warmer and warmer the closer you get to one."
"Ellie... Ellie! Quit daydreaming about fish, will you? Pay attention to what I'm saying—this is important. If anything happens and you're unsure of how to handle it, don't try to be brave. Especially now. There've been reports of suspicious activity across the continent. Some Order members have been attacked while out on duty. There haven't been any fatalities yet, just minor skirmishes, but still... you need to be careful."
The voice nagged, with the kite giving a human-like nod, signaling it was listening.
A figure soon leapt from the back of the gliding kite, which hovered a few hundred meters above the swamp. He descended gently, like a feather, carried by the wind. His long hair and robes flowed gracefully, fluttering as he fell. The figure wore robes split evenly between red and blue, and at his side hung a longsword sheathed in a pristine snow-white scabbard.
It was Feng Xin.
He was heading to the Green Fog Swamp Sect to apprehend Peng Zhen and the elders conspiring with him, intent on capturing them before they could empty out the sect.
Feng Xin landed gently at the edge of the swamp, his movements as light as a feather. He cast a calm glance upward and saw the kite soaring higher into the sky. Moments later, a swirl of clouds formed around it, and it vanished completely from view.
The kite was a cloud-swallowing kite, renowned not only for its incredible speed but also for its unmatched camouflage abilities. It possessed an innate talent for manipulating clouds, allowing it to blend seamlessly into them and disappear from sight.
Good, at least she listened," Feng Xin muttered to himself, a slight smirk on his face. His expression quickly hardened. "Time to settle scores with Peng Zhen and the rest. They've got dragon hearts, daring to pull one over the Order. I wonder if I'll manage to bring back some spirit rice samples as... 'evidence.' They better not have stolen those too." He licked his lips as a tiny drop of saliva betrayed his anticipation.
As soon as his feet touched the ground, he darted into the swamp. Yet, despite his speed, not a single blade of grass swayed, nor did the still waters ripple.
He was executing the Shadow Void Steps.
His figure seemed to flicker in and out of existence as he moved, as though shuttling between shadows. This movement technique was classified as a gold-grade movement art—a mark of its exceptional power and refinement.
Cultivation techniques and spells followed the same ranking system as the cores formed in the Core Formation Realm. From the lowest to the highest, the classifications were: Red, Orange, Blue, Gold, and Purple. The higher the grade, the more formidable the technique, but equally, the more demanding it was to cultivate—even reaching minor success required immense effort.
The Shadow Void Steps had originally been an orange-grade technique called Silent Moon Steps. It was later refined and elevated to gold-grade by a senior member of the Order who—according to rumor—had been tinkering with it during his free time.
Why go through all that effort to improve an orange-grade technique?
Apparently, the senior cultivator had been searching for a way to sneak in and out of his courtyard without alerting his wife—particularly when meeting with certain elders for 'dao discussions' which was lingo for drinks, laughs, and bantering one another or shamelessly bragging about something as most men do in such a setting.
Unfortunately for him, those clandestine meetings had not gone unnoticed.
Said elder was now serving a 50-year forced closed-door cultivation—a decision that wasn't entirely his own.
The Order quickly adopted the technique and is now one of its defining trademarks. Mastering it to at least minor success became a mandatory requirement for anyone seeking to graduate as an inquisitor or a judge.
Its precision and versatility made it indispensable, cementing its place as a cornerstone technique within the Order.
....
Feng Xin moved swiftly toward the western part of the swamp, where the Green Fog Swamp Sect was located. He pushed both his Shadow Void Steps and spiritual sense to their limits.
At the late stage of the Core Formation realm, Feng Xin's spiritual sense could typically cover a 1-kilometer radius—an exceptional range for his level. Such a feat was achievable only by those born with natural talents for spiritual perception or through rigorous training in high-grade meditation techniques designed to enhance the spirit. In Feng Xin's case, it was the latter.
Given the high-risk nature of an inquisitor's work, the Order provided its members with specialized training regimens to strengthen their spiritual sense, and Feng Xin had taken full advantage of them.
Even within the fog, where visibility was poor and spiritual senses were heavily suppressed, his range was only reduced to 500 meters— which was still more than enough. He was confident he could match the speed and tricks of any attacker lurking within the swamp.
This confidence wasn't born out of arrogance. It was hard-earned—shaped by years of sparring against two monsters in human clothing during his training. One was his fellow glutton, Yang Qing, and the other was his boss, Yi Jie.
The countless beatings he endured during those sessions—and the lazy, nonchalant look Yang Qing always wore after trouncing him—had pushed Feng Xin to refine his speed, reflexes, and, most importantly, his capacity to take a hit. Even if it was just to last a minute longer.
There was no way anyone in this swamp could match the speed of those two. And even if, by some absurd chance, someone did—he was certain he could survive the first hit and strike back before they had a chance to finish him.
After all, what were the odds he'd run into someone with the speed and power of Yi Jie or Yang Qing out here?
If there was someone like that, they wouldn't be holed up in this swamp. They'd either be a highly sought-after talent or already a member of one of the major powerhouses across the continent.
The swamp was filled with thick vines and trees with overlapping canopies. The green fog obstructed the view, hindering eyesight and reducing the sunlight filtering through. The intertwined canopies only added to the gloom of the place. The water on the ground was dark green and murky, with occasional bubbles popping to the surface. Feng Xin moved between the vines completely unhindered, barely brushing against any of them.
Despite the soundless nature of his movements, he had already drawn the attention of the local creatures, who had identified him as an outsider.
Feng Xin didn't alter his speed or direction, acting as though he were completely oblivious to the fact that he had been targeted, destined to be an early breakfast. Though, with his slim build, he was more of a snack.
"I wonder how tasty I look to these beasts..." Feng Xin muttered under his breath, his lips curling into a malevolent, hungry grin.
"Come closer... closer... Let's see who ends up in whose stomach... slurp—"
He abruptly caught himself and shook his head.
"Oops! Focus! Focus, Feng Xin!"