Christopher sat in a dark corner of the cave, far enough from Milena to have some solitude. The ground beneath him was cold and rough, but he didn't mind. He placed the disk with the purple gem in front of him, gazed at it for a moment, then held it with both hands and closed his eyes.
He focused his mind and slowly began pumping mana into the tool. The disk responded quickly, and the gem began to glow faintly, as if a heart was beating deep within it. Its rhythm was steady, pulsating with life. Christopher placed it on the ground before him, took a deep breath, then sat in a meditation posture, his legs crossed and his hands on his knees.
Calming the mind.
Regulating the breath.
Mana began to flow from the disk to him calmly. It was warm at first, but soon turned painful, as if it were digging into his veins from the inside. Nevertheless, he didn't stop. He activated the Great Sky Refining technique and began to refine the mana, purifying it and absorbing it into the seed.
An hour passed, during which Christopher didn't move, didn't open his eyes, and didn't let the pain show on his face. Only steady breaths, his body trembling occasionally with each new wave of mana.
Then, finally, he opened his eyes.
In his eyes was a faint joy, stemming from something deeper than just a slight progress in meditation. He knew that this tool would change the game for him.
With this tool... I can meditate even within the City of Phoenix, without suffering... without the need for hills or forests.
He smiled faintly, looking at the tool whose light had dimmed slightly but was still alive. But before he could sink back into his thoughts, a loud sound echoed from outside the cave, breaking the silence.
"Hahaha! I'm back!"
Christopher quickly lifted his head, then looked toward the entrance of the cave. The voice was familiar.
Lux entered, Milena's uncle, as massive as ever, holding a hammer in his right hand and an axe in his left, as though they were small toys between his giant fingers.
Christopher stood up, brushing off the dust from his pants, then said while looking at Lux:
"Why did you leave? Wasn't the plan for you to stay and recover?"
Lux laughed in his deep voice as he placed the hammer on the ground and lovingly wiped the axe, as if he were hugging it: "My beautiful axe fell, so I came back to take it."
Lux continued, looking at his hammer and axe with great care, as if they were his most valuable possessions. He spoke in a quiet, but certain voice: "My trial is near, and I have only one day left. If I die, my axe and hammer will be buried with me, and if I live... I will fight with them until the last moment."
Then he burst into laughter, his proud, booming laugh echoing in the cave like the sound of an impending battle.
"And what about you?" he added, looking at Christopher with sharp eyes, "Will you stay here, hiding in the forest? Or do you have other plans?"
Christopher, who had been listening attentively, raised an eyebrow for a moment, then spoke in a calm but decisive tone:
"I will return to the City of Phoenix... and look for a way to join one of the cults. I don't want to stay in this kingdom under the Sacred Temple."
There was no hesitation in his voice, only a genuine desire to leave. He had already witnessed the temple's hatred for hunters. A place like this wasn't fit for staying.
Lux laughed again, but this time his laugh was lighter, filled with a bit of admiration, and he said:
"The cults? Smart choice... but the road to them isn't easy, especially for someone like you without support."
Christopher didn't respond immediately. He just smiled to himself. Lux didn't know yet that he had a tool that would allow him to access even more than what the cults offered...
The disk.
He looked at him and said with a confident smile:
"Don't worry about me. I will always find my way, like I always do."
Christopher smiled and walked out of the cave. Though he spoke with confidence, he wasn't truly sure he would find a way. Even if he found a way to leave, he would need to figure out how to escape from the kingdom, which was closed off by the Sacred Temple.
Christopher sighed deeply and muttered under his breath: "Tsk... stupid temple."
He stood in an open space free from trees, where the air was cleaner and the sky visible, and took the black ring out of his small pouch. It was a ring, not shining or glowing, just with faint engravings, but it was heavier than metal in his hand, and its dark color seemed to swallow the light around it.
Now... let's try you.
He placed it on his middle finger and closed his eyes.
He tried pumping mana into it, and in an instant, the ring emitted a faint glow as if the darkness itself was breathing.
Christopher felt his strength multiply, his body filled with energy he had never felt before.
A strange, dense, dark aura erupted from him, radiating awe. The air around him grew heavy, and the nearby birds fled as if they sensed danger.
Christopher looked at his hand and smiled faintly: "Well... let's try our skill."
He crouched slightly, then placed the palm of his hand on his shadow reflected on the ground and whispered in a barely audible voice:
"Shadow Seal."
Immediately, the shadow under his hand began to ripple, as if it were a living liquid. Its density increased, and an ominous, suffocating aura emerged, making the surrounding air suddenly cold.
The shadow rapidly extended across the ground, branching like the roots of an evil tree, crawling toward the surrounding trees.
It reached ten thick trees, and...
The shadow struck.
Its black tendrils wrapped around the trunks, intertwining like snakes, and squeezed with tremendous force.
Christopher clenched his fist calmly, without a word.
The shadows immediately responded, tightening their grip suddenly.
Crack... Snap...
The sound of breaking wood echoed in the forest, and the trees fell one after the other, as if an invisible hand tore them from their roots.
Dust was raised, and the ground trembled slightly.
Christopher stood in place, a faint smile on his face, while the wind played with his hair as the dust still swirled from the fallen trees.
"Using the ring... my strength has been massively amplified."
He whispered to himself, looking at the ring glowing faintly on his middle finger, "It's definitely a trump card... a card that even third-tier hunters might fight over."
He took a slow breath, then placed his hand on the hilt of his long sword.
With calm and smooth movements, he drew the blade from its sheath, and the metallic sound of the sword scraping the sheath was pleasing to the ear.
He closed his eyes for a moment, planted his feet firmly on the ground, and held the sword steadily with both hands.
Breathe... Balance... Focus.
Christopher pumped mana through his body, gathering it in the blade.
The sword responded immediately, and a dark, ominous aura rose from it, like a shadow from another world, swirling around it like a silent black flame.
Then he whispered:
"Sword Basics... Opening Strike."
He suddenly opened his eyes and struck a straight blow toward a row of trees.
In an instant...
The sword's aura shot forward in a straight line, like a dark spark, cutting through the air with a sharp whistle, and striking the trees.
They cracked... then collapsed.
Three thick trees split in half, then fell to the ground with a resounding crash.
The strike wasn't just powerful... it was precise, clean, and without hesitation.
Christopher lowered his sword with the same momentum and swung it again. The sound of the wind followed his sharp motion. Without giving the trees a moment's rest, he swung the sword once more, this time whispering a deeper phrase, filled with calm:
"Shadow Sword of the World."
The moment the words were spoken, everything changed. The air around him shuddered, the light receded, as if the shadows themselves were bending to his command.
The dark mana extended around the sword, transforming into a sharp wave that surged with the movement.
A dark aura exploded from the sword, broader and longer, resembling a blade stretching out from the darkness itself.
It struck the other trees violently...
But this time, they didn't just split; they were torn apart, as if something had ripped them from the inside out.
The wood shattered, the leaves scattered like ash, and a strange silence filled the air for a moment... then the shattered trunks fell all at once, with a heavy sound like muffled thunder.
Christopher's muscles relaxed slowly, and he lowered his sword to the side, as the dark aura around the blade gradually faded as if it were being absorbed back into the sword.
He stood amidst the wreckage, among the torn remnants of the trees, breathing slowly and deeply, his eyes watching the mark of his strike in silence.
"World Shadow Blade..."
He murmured the name again, as if repeating it gave it its true weight.
This offensive technique, along with the basics of the sword: the opening strike, and the technique of movement, the Steps of Shadow Earth, were all techniques Christopher had copied from the disk.
He clearly remembered the words of the mysterious middle-aged man, that entity who had spoken to his pupil inside the disk, when he told him that these techniques belonged to the third rank, meaning they were rare among hunters.
But there was another technique...
Shadow Seal.
The man hadn't given it a rank but had described it in his own way and called it "the miraculous technique." He also said it was a technique with immense potential for growth, perhaps exceeding the traditional ranking.
And Christopher had begun to believe that, from his use of it, it was definitely more than just a sealing technique.
---
Elsewhere
In the city of Valorin, one of the five major cities of the Kingdom of Cloud, gray mist flowed between its tall towers adorned with stone statues, and its cobbled streets stretched like arteries of an ancient civilization still pulsing with life. Valorin wasn't just a city; it was the military capital of the kingdom, the center of command for major campaigns, and the cradle of pride for the nobles who had inherited the art of war from their ancestors.
Valorin was founded by the legendary General Valor Cain, a man who began his life as a simple farmer in a remote village, but rose from the bottom of society thanks to his combat talent and unbreakable loyalty, until he became one of the closest leaders to the founder of the Kingdom of Cloud, Erius Cloudrin, known as the King of the White Summit. During the Age of Chaos, Valor Cain led armies against invaders and demonic beasts, and established the city on the ruins of a military camp destroyed by the demonic beasts, known as "The Skull Field." On that day, he uttered the phrase that would become the city's slogan:
"From the ashes, we will build an unbreakable fortress."
The city walls were made of black volcanic stone, covered with carvings of historic battles.
The customs of the people of Valorin were drastically different from those of the other cities in the kingdom. They did not celebrate festivals with songs and dances, but with duels and combat competitions in the "Brave Blood" arena. Respect was not measured by wealth or lineage, but by the number of scars and battles a man had fought.
Even children were trained in weaponry from the age of seven, and those who completed their training in the Black Spear Camp within five years and joined the Sacred Temple were considered the elite and were highly revered in the city.
---
At the Eastern Gate of Valorin.
The soldiers were performing their usual duties, leaning on their spears, inspecting passersby, and checking the identities of those entering. Suddenly, the tone of the conversation changed, and the tension rose.
"Stop!"
One of the guards shouted, raising his spear toward the newcomer.
A tall man, covered in dust and blood, his clothes torn and his armor cracked, stood in front of the gate, breathing heavily, his eyes burning with an unextinguished fire.
"What is your name? Where did you come from? And why are you covered in blood?!"
The captain of the guard stepped forward, hand on his sword.
The man raised his head, revealing a swollen face filled with blood and wounds... yet he appeared as solid as a rock.
"Carlos Levada, captain of a squad belonging to the Purification Division of the Sacred Temple."
One of the soldiers behind him stammered and whispered in an inaudible voice, but his words were enough to quicken the heartbeat of those present:
"Is it... Carlos Levada..."
The astonishment was clear in everyone's eyes, but the captain of the guard, usually stern, showed a deep expression of respect the moment he heard the name.
The captain bowed deeply, placed his hand over his chest, and said:
"I apologize, sir, for stopping you. I didn't know you were from the Sacred Temple."
"Then he gestured to the other two soldiers to open the way immediately."