The Great Hall of the Fading Wind Sect was no longer a place of initiation; it was a slaughterhouse. Smoke, thick with the scent of burnt sandalwood and copper-tasting blood, choked the air. While the other disciples wailed in terror, scrambling over one another to reach the exits, Zen stood amidst the carnage, as motionless as a statue.
In his mind, the [Mirror of Nihilism] was hyper-active.
[Target Identified: Disciple Kai]
[Aptitude: Raging Fire Root]
[Status: Distracted / Combat State]
Kai, the arrogant genius who had mocked Zen only an hour ago, was desperately fending off a Blood Shadow assassin. His sword was a blur of orange flames, but his movements were sloppy, driven by panic.
Zen didn't rush in. He waited. He watched the rhythm of the assassin's blade. At the exact moment Kai parried a heavy blow, leaving his flank exposed, Zen glided forward. His movement wasn't human; it was the fluid, frictionless drift of the [Heavenly Wind Core] he had just stolen from the Elder.
He didn't strike Kai to kill him—not yet. He reached out and gripped Kai's burning shoulder.
"Wha— Zen? Let go!" Kai roared, his fire flaring.
"Consider this a final tuition fee," Zen whispered.
[Initiating Mimicry: Raging Fire Root...]
[Extraction Cost: 10 Years of Target's Lifespan]
A cold, agonizing suction traveled through Zen's palm. Kai's eyes widened. He felt his very soul being drained, his internal fire turning to ice. His skin, once youthful, began to wrinkle and grey in a matter of seconds. Before Kai could scream, Zen twisted his hand, using the stolen wind to snap Kai's neck with a sickening crack.
Zen stood over the corpse, feeling a new heat ignite within his dantian. The Wind and Fire roots were clashing, then merging under the cold pressure of the Mirror.
"One for speed, one for destruction," Zen noted, his voice devoid of emotion. "A necessary foundation."