The sudden silence that fell after Jun's two guards went down felt heavier than the shouts of battle had been. Jun let out a chuckle, but his laughter now sounded forced, mixed with uneven, hissing breaths. The greed that had filled his eyes moments ago was now haunted by unmistakable fear. He took a step back, his body nearly pressing against the thick trunk of a tree behind him.
"Good… very good, Feng," Jun said, struggling to steady his voice. "So you've been hiding quite a lot. Not just luck—but martial skill as well."
Feng did not reply. He focused on steadying his breathing, every sense fully alert, locked onto the greatest threat still standing unmoving: the mysterious man behind Jun. From the beginning, that man had merely watched with an indifferent gaze, as if the fight that had just occurred were nothing more than a minor disturbance. The formless pressure radiating from him made the air around Feng feel thick and difficult to breathe.
"But it all ends here," Jun continued, regaining a bit of confidence when he saw the mysterious man still unmoved. He pointed at Feng with a trembling finger. "Master Stone, please take that bracelet—and… silence him."
The man called Master Stone finally moved.
His steps were slow, calm, and filled with confidence. Each footfall on the humus-covered ground seemed to leave behind a heavy impression. He removed his plain outer robe, revealing a dense, muscular body covered in old scars, with bulging veins that looked like the roots of ancient trees. This was the physique of someone who had passed the early stage of Body Tempering—no longer an ordinary human body, but a foundation hardened to contain energy.
"So the Jun family can hire a Practitioner…" Feng muttered inwardly, a chill crawling up his spine. This opponent was on an entirely different level.
"Calm down," Lean's voice echoed in his mind, relaxed and unhurried. "He's still in the Early Stage of Body Tempering. His strength lies in his physical body—speed, endurance, and striking power. But his technique is crude. He relies purely on brute force. Your senses are sharper now than they were three months ago. Use that."
"What did they offer you?" Feng suddenly asked, forcing his voice to sound confident as his eyes tracked every movement of Master Stone's body. "Money? Or resources?"
Master Stone stopped a few steps in front of Feng. For the first time, his blank expression shifted—just slightly—into mild interest.
"A quick mind for a mere herbal gatherer," his voice was deep and resonant, like stone grinding against stone. "They offered something I need. That's enough. Hand over the bracelet, and you may leave with your life. I don't wish to waste my strength."
It was an obvious lie. Feng could feel it. There was no mercy in the man's tone—only efficiency. A Practitioner of this level would never leave a witness, especially one who had already taken down two of his employer's men.
"Master Stone, stop talking and finish him!" Jun shouted from behind, his fear twisting into hatred and a desire to see Feng suffer.
Without warning, Master Stone lunged forward.
His speed was terrifying to Feng's eyes—only a blurred shadow closing in. Instincts honed through relentless training saved his life. Feng did not try to block or counterattack. He threw himself sideways, rolling away.
BOOM!
Master Stone's empty fist smashed into the tree trunk where Feng had been standing. The explosive crack was deafening. The hard wood splintered and shattered, leaving behind a deep crater the size of a human head. Such monstrous strength.
"Never try to take his punches head-on," Lean instructed calmly, as if this were routine. "You'll be crushed. He's faster and stronger. But you're more agile, and you know this forest. Run. Use the trees as cover. Target his weak points: eyes, throat, groin. Those are the only places that might work."
Feng sprang up and ran, weaving through trees and dense undergrowth. He knew every contour of the land—every protruding root, every uneven patch of ground, every obstacle along the way. This was his only advantage.
Master Stone snorted and gave chase with powerful strides. He was like a raging bull, smashing through obstacles with sheer brutality. Small branches snapped, bushes were trampled flat. Yet Feng's nimble movements and familiarity with the terrain made the distance between them hard to close.
"Damn rat!" Master Stone growled. He grabbed a stone the size of a fist and hurled it with tremendous force.
Feng heard the wind whistle past his ear. The stone slammed into a tree ahead with a thunderous crash, sending wood splinters flying. Feng slipped, but immediately regained his footing. Adrenaline surged through him, drowning out the pain in his arm and the fear in his heart.
He suddenly changed direction, forcing the larger-bodied Master Stone to slow down. And in that moment, Feng saw an opening. Frustration had made Master Stone slightly drop his guard. From behind a large tree, Feng flung a handful of dirt mixed with sharp pebbles straight toward the Practitioner's eyes.
It was a dirty trick—not a martial technique.
But it worked.
"Grrk!" Master Stone snarled, reflexively covering his eyes.
That was the chance.
Feng was no longer a naïve boy hoping for a fair fight. This was life and death. He leapt forward, fingers clawed, aiming straight for his opponent's eyes. But a Body Tempering Practitioner possessed terrifying reflexes. Even while momentarily blinded, Master Stone twisted his arm and casually swatted Feng's attack aside. The force behind that deflection was so great that Feng felt as if his wrist were about to be torn from its socket.
He was thrown backward. A sharp pain shot through his wrist, making him grit his teeth.
"Not bad. Quite cunning," Master Stone said, wiping the dirt from his eyes, his face now filled with genuine rage. "But the game is over."
He drew his weapon—a pair of iron brass knuckles fitted onto both fists. They gave off a dull, ominous sheen and looked incredibly heavy. Now, even a single glancing blow would be fatal.
"He's serious now," Lean's voice sounded, still calm. "Your choices: keep running and hope he tires—which is unlikely—or take a huge risk. There's a small cliff to the north, about two hundred steps from here. Remember the ravine where Eva betrayed you? Similar, but smaller. It could be a trap… or your grave."
Feng thought fast. Endless running? No. Jun would never stop hunting him. This Master Stone was a problem that had to be faced—or at least crippled. The same iron resolve that had once driven him to run four full laps around the forest ignited in his chest.
"Jun!" Feng suddenly shouted as he ran again, this time heading north. "Does your father know you hired a Practitioner for personal business? Or is this all just for you—for a bracelet you think is valuable? What if it's just a cheap ornament? Would you really kill someone for that?"
The shout startled Jun, who was hiding behind a tree. Doubt crept onto his face. Indeed, this was entirely his own initiative. His father only knew he wanted to 'interrogate' the suspicious Feng—not kill him. And Feng was right—what if the bracelet was nothing special?
"Don't listen to him, Master Stone! Catch him!" Jun yelled, but his voice no longer carried the same confidence.
Master Stone himself was growing increasingly furious. This hunt had dragged on far longer than he had expected. He was a Practitioner—even if low-ranked—and should have finished off a mortal within a few breaths. His pride was beginning to sting.
Feng kept running, leading the chase. He arrived at a place he knew well—a rocky cliff about five meters high, with a fast-flowing river below. It wasn't a bottomless abyss, but falling from that height onto rocks and rushing water would shatter bones.
He stopped at the edge of the cliff and turned around. His breathing was ragged, his body covered in dirt, wounds, and sweat. But his eyes burned fiercely.
Master Stone emerged from the trees and halted several meters away. A cold smile spread across his hardened face.
"Run again, rat. Jump. Choose your own death."
Feng stood tall. He no longer looked like a frightened victim. In his eyes, Master Stone saw something that made him pause—acceptance. Acceptance that this might be the end, coupled with a resolve not to die alone.
"You say you're a Practitioner," Feng said, his voice hoarse but clear. "But all I see is a hired thug using a bit of strength to bully the weak. You're no better than Jun."
The insult struck home.
Master Stone roared and charged forward, brass knuckles raised, ready to smash Feng's skull.
This was the moment of truth. All the training, all the pain, all the fear—everything converged into these few seconds. Feng braced himself, not to leap back, but to face the attack head-on. In his heart, Lean's instructions rang out like both a death knell and a final hope.
The mysterious man leapt, his body sailing through the air as he unleashed his strongest punch.
And Feng, with every last ounce of courage he had left, made a move no one expected.