Sun stood in the void, surrounded by an infinite darkness. No sound, no wind, no life. Only a pair of golden eyes burned in the distance, watching him with an intensity that made even the darkness seem alive. The silence stretched between them until Sun broke it.
"What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice firm, devoid of fear.
The eyes blinked slowly, and a low, rumbling chuckle echoed across the void. "Want from you? Nothing. I don't need anything from you."
Sun narrowed his gaze, studying the entity before him. It was unlike anything he had encountered—not a god, not a human.
The voice continued, deep and calm. "I will, however, still have to send you to Leindell. What you choose to do there is up to you. But I must warn you… I cannot grant you a new body. If you wish to return to the physical world, you will need to create one—or take one."
Sun's jaw tightened, the weight of the statement sinking in. "And if I don't?"
"Then you remain as you are," the voice replied, "and you will become corrupted. Soul forms like yours don't last long in their pure state. Decide quickly I don't have much time."
Sun's gaze hardened. "What's in this for you?"
The eyes narrowed, their glow dimming momentarily as another chuckle rumbled through the void. "What I gain is of no concern to you. When you're strong enough, you'll understand."
Sun exhaled through his nose, calculating his next move. This being's presence was undetectable, a void within the void itself. He couldn't sense its aura or intent, only its words.
"Fine," he said at last, his tone unwavering. "But know this—I'll do whatever I want in there."
"Good," the voice replied, its tone filled with glee almost. "That's exactly what I'm counting on."
As the golden eyes began to fade, the voice echoed one last time.
"One more thing. Your right arm—it's gone. You won't be able to use it anymore. Inconvenient, isn't it?"
Before Sun could react, a powerful force gripped him, pulling him into the void. The golden eyes vanished as the darkness consumed him entirely.
…..
Sun awoke on a jagged mountain peak, his surroundings cold and desolate. He glanced down at his body—or rather, the faint, translucent form he now occupied.
Below, a group of men sat around a fire. Their laughter carried through the wind, coarse and harsh. Sun descended toward them, his movements silent as he studied the group. They were bandits, evident from their mismatched armor and crude weapons. His eyes locked on the fittest among them—a tall, broad-shouldered man with an unremarkable face.
Sun wasted no time. His soul surged forward, piercing the man's body. The bandit gasped, his body going rigid as Sun's presence overwhelmed his consciousness. Within seconds, the man's will crumbled, and Sun's essence anchored itself to the body.
Flexing his new fingers, Sun frowned. The body was functional, but far from optimal. Weak muscles, sluggish movements—it was terrible to say the least. Still, it would have to suffice.
Sun observed the group of bandits bickering among themselves. He needed information, and their leader seemed like the perfect source. Approaching the burly man, Sun asked in a cold, commanding tone, "Where's the nearest martial school?"
He wasn't going to miss the chance to learn the martial arts of this world.
The bandit leader stared at him in disbelief, then let out a hearty laugh. "John, what in the hell are you on about? Martial school? You've been drinking way too much."
Sun's gaze hardened, his killing intent focused upon the bandit. The laughter died instantly as the bandit stumbled back, choking on his breath. "T-there's a path," he stammered, pointing shakily. "Leads to a village down there. They've got one. Just don't kill me!"
Sun turned without a word and began his descent down the dirt road.
The dirt road was uneven and narrow, flanked by sparse patches of greenery.
Eventually, Sun reached a small village, its humble wooden houses nestled around a central square. The villagers eyed him warily, their faces pale as their gazes lingered on his bandit attire.
When Sun attempted to ask for directions to the martial school, his words were met with silence. The villagers quickly shuffled away, avoiding his piercing gaze.
Sun clicked his tongue in annoyance, scanning the villagers until his eyes fell on a young boy. Clad in pristine white robes, the boy carried himself with confidence far beyond his years. His posture, his stride—everything about him screamed "disciple."
Sun approached him. "Hey, kid. Where's the martial school?"
The boy turned, his sharp eyes narrowing. "You bandits dare set foot in this village? You think you can rob our martial school?"
He stepped back, dropping into a low stance that combined elements of sumo wrestling and something entirely foreign. His fists pointed toward the ground as a faint aura rippled around him.
Sun's eyes narrowed in surprise. Aura. It had taken him four grueling years to unlock his own aura at the peak of humanity's potential. Yet here was a child radiating it effortlessly.
A faint sense of dread crept up Sun's spine, but he suppressed it. He grinned, bouncing lightly on his feet. "Interesting. Let's see what you've got."
Without hesitation, Sun launched into a roundhouse kick aimed at the boy's head. The kid stepped aside with precision, his fist snapping upward to strike the inside of Sun's thigh, exploiting a gap in the technique.
Sun landed, testing the boy further with a series of spinning hook kicks and low sweeps. But each attack was countered flawlessly, as if the boy was able to see the weak points of each of his techniques
The boy's aura flared suddenly as he lunged forward, targeting Sun's legs. Sun jumped to avoid the strike, but the boy grinned and released an aura blast directly upward.
Sun waited, watching the blast hurtle toward him. At the last moment, he moved his hand.
"Complete Martial Arts: Second Form – Force Redirection."
The aura blast curved in mid-air, reversing course and slamming into the boy, sending him flying into a tree.
Sun landed lightly, moving toward the boy with killing intent radiating from his body. The killing intent froze the kid in place as Sun slowly moved towards him.
"That's enough," a gruff voice called out.
Sun turned to see an old man with a beer in hand, his white robes matching the boy's. The man's eyes were sharp, his presence commanding.
"What is a master like you doing here, in my humble martial school?" the old man asked, his tone calm yet probing.
The dreadful feeling that had radiated from the boy vanished entirely, as though it had never existed. Sun took note of the development and filed it for later.
"I came to learn your martial arts," Sun said plainly.
The old man stroked his beard, studying Sun. "You don't need to take an entrance exam. Someone of your caliber is welcome here. But was it truly necessary to break Zhong's tale so thoroughly?"
Sun frowned. "His tale?"