The wind howled behind Dominic as he sprinted across the high ridge, leaving behind the ruined field of flowers he accidentally obliterated with a single Mount Hua sword technique. If someone saw him there—if someone traced that destruction back to him—his "peaceful entrance" into the Murim world would be over before it even started.
"Yeah… probably shouldn't have done that," he muttered as he dashed forward, his robe fluttering like a streak of shadow-blue lightning.
He stopped at the edge of a cliff, boots grinding against stone. Below him stretched a vast open expanse—mountain valleys, rivers, temples carved into stone… The Murim world looked far more ancient, far more mystical than anything he had seen in Avelion.
But what caught his attention wasn't the scenery.
It was the noise.
A roar of cheers. Music. Gong beats. Sword chants. Laughter. Cries of awe.
Dominic narrowed his eyes and activated All-Seeing Eye.
His vision sharpened. The world expanded. The entire region shifted into crisp, layered detail—every aura, every movement, every martial flow.
And then—
Dominic froze.
A massive festival was happening at the Mount Hua Sect.
Massive banners of white and azure hung from the stone pillars. Sects gathered in droves. Martial artists filled the courtyards. A small stadium made of stone and blooming plum blossoms was being used as the arena.
Dominic zoomed in subconsciously.
Wudang disciples in their flowing pale-blue robes lined the east side.
Shaolin monks sat quietly in the north stands, calm yet radiating frightening internal energy.
The Beggar Clan lounged around casually, laughing and drinking.
Namgoong clan warriors stood tall and proud—their swords sheathed but humming with killing intent.
Dominic raised a brow.
Why do I recognize every single sect?I can literally name them on sight… and their techniques… and their internal cultivation routes…
It wasn't knowledge.It was instinct.Like something had awakened in his blood.
"Damn system… you stitched martial arts a little too deep," he said.
He kept scanning when—
A sudden, violent shiver passed through one of the Namgoong clan's elites.
The man lifted his head sharply—eyes glowing slightly—searching the horizon.
Dominic blinked.
Their eyes met.
A single heartbeat of silence.
A razor thread of killing intent sliced the air between them.
The Sword Saint of Namgoong narrowed his eyes… leaned closer to another elder and whispered.
Dominic cut the All-Seeing Eye immediately.
"Yeah nope. That guy definitely noticed me."
He exhaled.
"These guys are monsters…"
Even he—Dominic Mendez, synchronization 50%, domain lord, god-tier hybrid—felt an instinctual warning. That Sword Saint wasn't someone the pre-system Dominic could even look at without shaking.
He crouched lower, hiding behind a rock.
"Alright… time to blend in."
THE AFTERMATH OF DOMINIC'S DESTRUCTION
Meanwhile, far behind him—
A squad of Mount Hua disciples rushed into the flower field Dominic had unknowingly blown apart with his technique.
"What happened here?!"
"It's like… a sword strike hit everything at once!"
"Did one of the Elders train here? No… Elder Yu is meditating today…"
"No disciple has that level of sword qi!"
A senior disciple knelt, touching the ground.
"This slash pattern… it doesn't match Mount Hua's form."
The others stiffened.
The senior disciple stood, face pale.
"Report to the Sect Leader. Immediately."
DOMINIC'S STEALTH ENTRY
Dominic watched them from afar, rubbing his forehead.
"Yeah… that's absolutely my fault."
He turned toward the festival.
"If I'm going to conquer Mount Hua eventually, I might as well get familiar with the place."
His body sank into his shadow—Shadowforge Creation carrying him silently across the cliff's edge.
A thin silhouette rose near the back wall of Mount Hua's outer courtyard.
Dominic stepped out.
No aura.
No breath.
No sound.
The perfect intruder.
The festival hall flooded his senses with martial energy.
Competing disciples showcased sword dances, spear sweeps, internal energy bursts, fist techniques…
Dominic watched a group of disciples attempting a complex footwork sequence.
His expression went flat.
"No… no… no… wrong… all wrong."
He squinted.
"Your stance is too high… your core isn't aligned… bro that's Mount Hua Fifth Form, not Third… what are you even doing?"
He shook his head.
"How did this sect survive for centuries like this?"
Then a Shaolin monk unleashed a burst of golden qi.
"Nope. Wrong breathing pattern. You're wasting 40% of your energy."
A Wudang disciple flowed like a river.
Dominic raised a brow.
"…Okay that's actually beautiful. Still wrong, but beautiful."
He leaned on a cherry tree branch, arms crossed.
"This is painful to watch."
He wasn't mocking them—he genuinely couldn't help it.
It was like watching beginners butcher techniques that were now instinctively engraved into his bones.
"Mount Hua… I'm going to have to fix you people later."
THE SWORD SAINT SEARCHES
On the podium, the Namgoong Sword Saint frowned deeply.
"…Someone was observing us just now."
The Mount Hua host elder blinked.
"From the mountains?"
"Yes. And the gaze was… ancient. Heavy."
He looked upward again.
Dominic, now sitting on a rooftop eating roasted chestnuts he stole from a vendor, froze mid-bite.
"Bro why is this man sniffing the air like a wolf?"
The Sword Saint's head turned toward him.
Dominic slipped into his shadow instantly.
The man's eyes sharpened.
"…Strange."
DOMINIC'S EXIT STRATEGY
Dominic exhaled quietly, deep in the shadows.
"Okay… time to chill. I'm not here to start a war—yet."
He peeked again at the arena.
A Mount Hua disciple attempted a sword flourish.
The blade slipped from his hand and stabbed the ground like a flagpole.
Dominic covered his face.
"Yeah… I'm saving this sect. Whether they like it or not."
He rose, stepping lightly along the empty side path behind the festival.
"Time to gather information… then tomorrow, I enter Mount Hua properly."
A breeze blew, carrying the scent of plum blossoms.
Dominic smirked.
"Mount Hua Sect… get ready."
He vanished, shadows swirling around him.