Night had draped the world in its pale cloak as Zephyr carved his way through the forest in utter silence.No footsteps echoed, no trace was left by his energy arms, as if his existence were nothing more than a passing illusion.
This was not a forest meant to be inhabited…It was a nightmare given form, carved from the fabric of a corrupted dream.Its trunks twisted as if in agony, rising from the earth like dying creatures, while branches tore through the air with every movement.The fog—dark and dense—coiled between the trees, whispering lost secrets that could not be understood.
Zephyr saw none of it.Not the trees, not the fog, not even the darkness.
Instead, he traversed distance through successive energy imprints, leaping from one vibration to another—as if moving across an invisible map of the world, no human mind could ever comprehend.
Within his arm… was the child.
He was not asleep.He cried, kicked the air, trembled—begging in childish silence for something he could not understand.
Then… Zephyr felt something else.
A strange fluctuation emerged from the child's chest—like a faint call without sound, yet heard clearly within him.Moments later, small tears fell onto his worn clothes in heavy silence.
He stopped.
Descending between towering trees that blocked even the lazy moonlight, he sat down.Not to rest… but to observe.
"I've moved far enough… This place is relatively safe from humans.Though seventh- and eighth-grade beasts dwell here, they pose no real threat to me."
He slowly lowered his head toward the child resting on the ground, focusing on the small strand of life trembling in instability.
"Hm… he's still crying. He doesn't seem sick… no abnormal fluctuations in his life strand… in fact, it has stopped fading."
He paused.
For the first time in a span he could not remember, he found himself in a situation he did not know how to handle.
"…Hm?"
Confusion flickered within him.
Then he noticed faint impurity energy leaking from the strand.
"…Wait… is it—"
In an instant, he lifted the child again with his energy arms, directing his perception toward the source of the impurity fluctuations, pressing the child against his chest to compensate for the absence of physical senses.
Zephyr froze.
Then carefully placed the child back down.
"Oh… he defecated."
His inner voice remained neutral, cutting through the forest's silence like a joke no one would laugh at.
He stood still for a moment, caught in an unfamiliar awkwardness.
"Who's the idiot flying through the sky while carrying a child? …Right. Me."
He muttered inwardly, moving one of his energy arms toward the source of the impurity.
"Let's see… a reduced version of the Single Cascade Technique sho
uld suffice."
He paused.
"…Ah. Wait. I need to remove his clothes first."
What followed was an unbalanced struggle between a man and a small piece of cloth.
He awkwardly turned the child, sometimes pressing him against his chest to locate the garment, other times attempting to grip it without harming him.
After a short but intense battle… he finally succeeded.
Lifting the child again—face down on one arm—he shaped two fingers from the other.
At once, the technique activated.
A small cascade of pure water flowed smoothly, as if nature itself had chosen to assist him.
Zephyr remained silent, observing the strand of energy until it calmed… until all impurity fluctuations vanished.
Then he thought, mocking himself:
"If Elder Yim knew… that his technique—the one that shook the foundations of the cultivation world and brought down three demonic palaces—was now being used to clean a child's impurities… he would claw his way out of his grave just to execute me."
Taking advantage of the moment, Zephyr didn't stop at cleaning the child.He refined the clothes as well, using a subtle wind method to dry them completely.
It wasn't easy.But after time and patience… he finished.
The child was now clean.Calm.As if resting in a warm dream.
A faint smile appeared on Zephyr's lips as a trace of sweat formed on his brow.
"…Heh. How long has it been since I last felt fatigue?"
He lowered his head into the darkness surrounding him—a darkness in which he perceived nothing but strands of soul guiding him.
A bitter smile followed.
"…It seems you'll make me suffer a little, little one."
He picked up the child again and continued deeper into the forest, moving with extreme care.
Time passed—roughly the time it takes for a stick of incense to burn—until he stopped at the edge of a towering mountain.
Before him lay a breathtaking sight:A vast city, its lights shimmering, its distant noise barely reaching him—structures rising like imperial domains.
"…Perfect."
"Far from the Sword Palace… yet close to the central city. Gathering resources to elevate my cultivation will be easier… and prepare for my revenge."
He gently placed the child down, then drew out a massive axe—nearly his own height—from the storage chain around his neck.
Without hesitation, he began cutting wood.
Each strike was precise.Rhythmic.As if his body remembered the craft instinctively.
He worked until dawn approached.
The scene became a painting:A man building a home on a mountain's edge—a glowing city before him,an ancient forest behind him,and between them…a small house rising beside a sleeping child.
By sunrise, the house was complete.
Zephyr smiled faintly.
"Telekinetic manipulation hasn't dulled… I cannot see it, but I'm certain it's a masterpiece—compared to what I built in wars of slaughter."
He stepped toward the cliff's edge.
There, he stood still.
Though blind, he felt everything.
The city beneath him shimmered like clustered stars upon darkness—a fragile life moving slowly within a cold, ruthless world.
Behind him… the forest.A boundary between two realms:one ruled by beasts and wilderness,the other by humans, power, and authority.
He inhaled deeply.
But the cold air did not calm the storm within him.
In his mind…echoes of battles,screams of the fallen,mountains of corpses,and blood soaking the very ground all walked upon.
This distant city…was untouched by war.
Too far to have felt its consequences.
Names surfaced within his mind like scars:
"Spear Palace… Arrow Palace… Hammer Palace… Axe Palace… and finally… Sword Palace."
Their echoes lingered like curses.
His jaw tightened.
A violent blood aura erupted from him—a manifestation of suppressed fury.
The forest trembled.
Even cultivators within the distant city sensed it—a terrifying fluctuation, like a storm about to descend.
But just as quickly…
He restrained it.
Then—
The child's life strand trembled violently.
"…Damn it!"
"I was too close… he could've died because of my energy… idiot!"
He rushed to him, lifting him gently, rocking him until he calmed—until sleep reclaimed him once more.