The token glowed faintly in Raizen's palm before vanishing into his storage ring.
He didn't speak.
He didn't react.
Instead, he turned his gaze toward the east—toward the boundary where the mortal world's maps ended. The direction where the veil between lower and upper realms grew thin.
The place where fate had been waiting.
> "Not yet."
He wouldn't ascend.
Not before finishing what he started.
---
Far across the continent, within towering cloud palaces and spirit-forged citadels, the sects had begun to react.
Some with panic.
Some with hunger.
The name "Void" had returned. Not whispered like a ghost, but spoken as a force. In less than a month, five inheritance tombs had been emptied. Three rogue sects had fallen without explanation. Sealed formations failed. Tracking arrays returned silence.
The truth was undeniable.
Someone was moving like a ghost through the realm.
And he was not bound by their rules.
---
In the council chamber of the Nine Heavens Sword Pavilion, Grand Elder Qingxuan slammed his palm against the jade desk, shattering it into dust.
> "No one moves like this unless they've already surpassed the realm."
An elder beside him nodded slowly. "Then why hasn't he ascended?"
> "Because he's doing something else," Qingxuan hissed. "He's building something."
Silence followed.
Then another elder asked, "Do we send envoys?"
> "No. We send bait."
---
In the Crimson Pill Sect, an entirely different strategy unfolded.
Inside a room layered with anti-scrying seals, four elders huddled around a map.
> "If we offer him sanctuary…"
"He won't trust us."
"Then we offer something else."
"Like what?"
"Knowledge. Forbidden knowledge."
One of them pointed at an ancient scroll sealed in black wax.
> "We give him the Pill of World Reversal. Let him see we don't fear him."
"And then?"
"We watch."
---
Back in the wilderness, Raizen moved between space pockets—uncharted cracks in the realm where no sect dared settle. One was filled with whispering mist. Another, with hanging islands floating above lava seas. Each one held fragments.
Not inheritances.
But memories.
Void users who had once tried to grow. Many had been betrayed. Some erased in their sleep. Others killed during breakthroughs.
And each one had left behind something.
Not manuals. Not weapons.
But instinct.
Raizen walked into one such hidden valley and sat quietly under a dead tree. Its bark was dry, but the roots hummed with power.
He placed his hand on the ground.
Closed his eyes.
And listened.
---
A whisper rose in the stillness.
> "I tried to become a god."
"But the heavens only allow it if you kneel."
"I refused. So they shattered me."
Raizen didn't flinch.
He let the emotion pass through him.
And from it, a thread of understanding emerged.
Void Fusion — a technique not of attack, but of devouring presence.
He opened his eyes.
The air around him flickered, and his body momentarily became translucent—his existence momentarily undetectable, like a ripple in an already still pond.
> "So this is how they avoided the gods."
---
Elsewhere, chaos brewed.
From a mid-sized sect in the western peaks, a message was sent:
> "The boy is a devil born of nothingness."
"He must be erased before his roots take hold."
"We, the Righteous Sky Alliance, declare a bounty on the void user."
"Alive: impossible."
"Dead: rewarded."
Thousands received it.
Most dismissed it.
But some… sharpened their blades.
---
Raizen continued walking.
He said nothing.
But in the space behind him, a small tear flickered open in the void.
From it, a silhouette of a man in cracked armor stepped out—his face blank, eyes hollow.
Another soul, rewritten.
A warrior he had once erased.
Now a silent sentinel, following without question.
Raizen didn't even glance back.
> "Let them chase."
> "I'll just keep walking."