The cool mountain breeze stirred Tianhai's robes as he stood at the base of the sect's outer cliffs, watching Elder Jian Xuan scan a parchment with a furrowed brow. The elder rarely showed expressions of concern, but something about this mission seemed to weigh on him more than usual.
"You're coming with me," Jian Xuan said without preamble, rolling up the parchment.
Tianhai blinked. "A mission?"
Jian Xuan nodded. "It's a minor task, but experience outside the sect is necessary for your growth. This will be a good opportunity for you."
A flicker of excitement ran through Tianhai. Ever since his recovery, he had trained relentlessly, trying to push his cultivation further. But deep down, he knew that progress couldn't come from seclusion alone. Real battle, real threats—that was where true strength was forged.
"I'm ready," he said without hesitation.
Jian Xuan's gaze lingered on him for a moment, unreadable, before he turned. "Then let's go."
---
The journey led them into a dense forest beyond the sect's outer territories, where mist coiled between ancient trees and the distant cries of spirit beasts echoed through the shadows. Jian Xuan moved with effortless grace, his presence like a blade cutting through the wilderness. Tianhai, though less refined in his movements, followed closely, his senses alert.
"This region is unsettled," Jian Xuan said after a while. "There are rumors of rogue cultivators operating here, remnants of old sects that were destroyed long ago."
Tianhai frowned. "Do we expect trouble?"
"Always." Jian Xuan gave him a sidelong glance. "Cultivators are creatures of ambition. Those without power seek it. Those with power guard it jealously."
Tianhai nodded, absorbing the lesson. As much as he had learned within the sect, the true nature of the cultivation world was something he had yet to fully grasp.
---
The ruins of an ancient temple lay before them, half-buried beneath vines and broken stone. Jian Xuan moved forward cautiously, his aura subtly shifting—Tianhai could feel the controlled tension in the air, like a drawn bowstring.
"We're not alone," Jian Xuan murmured.
The words had barely left his lips when shadows flickered at the temple's edges. Four figures emerged, their robes tattered but their gazes sharp. Rogue cultivators.
"Well, well," one of them sneered, eyes settling on Jian Xuan. "A Sky-Severing Sect elder, wandering so far from his home. How unfortunate for you."
Tianhai instinctively stepped closer to Jian Xuan, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. The air was thick with unspoken threat.
Jian Xuan's expression remained unreadable. "You should leave."
The rogue cultivators laughed. "Or what?"
Jian Xuan didn't answer. Instead, he simply raised a single finger.
The next moment, the air cracked. A force unlike anything Tianhai had ever felt swept outward, flattening the grass and shaking the ground. The nearest rogue cultivator barely had time to react before his body was sent hurtling backward, crashing into a crumbling pillar.
The laughter stopped.
"You—" One of them began, but Jian Xuan moved.
Tianhai barely saw it. One moment, his master stood beside him. The next, he was among them, his blade a silver arc through the air. Blood splashed against stone.
A sharp whistle cut through the chaos, and the remaining two cultivators hesitated before retreating into the shadows. The leader, still clutching his wounded side, spat on the ground before vanishing into the trees.
Jian Xuan let them go.
Tianhai exhaled, realizing only then how tightly he had been gripping his sword. His heart pounded, not from fear—but from realization.
I'm still not strong enough.
Jian Xuan turned back to him, his face calm as if nothing had happened. "Do you understand now?"
Tianhai swallowed, nodding. Strength wasn't just about cultivation. It was about presence, control, the ability to command a battlefield with a mere glance. He was still far from that level.
But he would reach it.
He had to.