Spirit Cloak

LUO FAN

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For two months, I traveled from Xianru to to the quiet town of Qingyuan in the Wun Empire, home to a Buddhist monastery where Abbot Mo often stayed whenever he was in the region. I wasn't certain he would be there, but I took the chance.

Fortunately, the monks at the gate informed me that Abbot Mo had just returned from a charity mission in a distant province and would be resting at the monastery for a couple of weeks before journeying back to the Silang Empire.

Welcoming me inside, they led me to the main hall to wait. As I sat in silence, my gaze wandered to a series of paintings adorning one of the walls. Three portraits hung there, depicting past sect leaders of the Endless Plain Sect. The two outer paintings bore the solemn faces of former leaders, their expressions dignified and serene. But the center portrait was different. It contained only a frame, the image of a monk with no face. Beneath it, a name was inscribed.

Cang Bo.

Every disciple of the light-core sects knew the name. Cang Bo was ranked among the top five strongest cultivators on the continent, a figure of near-mythic status. Yet, strangely, very few had ever seen his face. He had appeared in public only once, more than a decade ago, at the bi-annual martial arts tournament, where he fought wearing a full mask. That single appearance had cemented his place in the martial world, elevating the Endless Plain Sect to new heights of prestige.

No one knew why he hid his face, but the mystery surrounding him only fueled his legend.

The sound of hurried footsteps pulled me from my thoughts. Turning, I found Abbot Mo striding swiftly into the hall. When our eyes met, he froze.

His breath caught, his gaze sharpening with disbelief. "Priest Luo?" he stammered. "Is it really you?"

I smiled and cupped my hands in greeting, bowing my head. "Greetings, Abbot Mo."

His expression darkened with suspicion. "I was told Priest Luo succumbed to his illness more than half a year ago." His voice grew wary. "Are you an imposter seeking to disgrace his name?"

I exhaled softly, understanding his reaction. After all, the rumors of my death had spread far and wide. Without a word, I stepped forward and extended my bamboo stick, tilting it slightly so the worn fabric tied around its handle was visible.

"This belonged to Jinjing," I said quietly. "You once told me how precious it must be to me. Would an imposter know that?"

His skeptical gaze softened, recognition dawning in his eyes. Slowly, he reached for the stick, his fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against the fabric. A deep sigh escaped him, and for the first time since he entered the room, relief washed over his face.

"It really is you," he murmured, shaking his head in astonishment. "It's a miracle that you've managed to stay alive."

"That's a long story," I replied with a faint smile. "One I'll gladly share over a cup of tea."

Abbot Mo led me to his private courtyard, where a wooden table sat beneath the fragrant shade of an osmanthus tree. A young monk arrived with a pot of tea, pouring the steaming liquid into two delicate cups. The aroma curled around me, its soothing scent settling my nerves.

"So, tell me," Abbot Mo said, lifting his cup, "where have you been all this time?"

I took a slow breath, steadying myself. I had lied before, but never like this.

It wasn't that I enjoyed deception, but Elder Tao and I had made a vow—no one could know about the Ancient Training Ground. If word of it ever spread, the culprit could only be one of us.

So I wove a story. A simple one, just enough truth to be convincing.

I told him that after my supposed death, someone had hidden me away in a secluded place, where I spent months training to strengthen my dark core. With the help of rare medicinal herbs, I had fought off the White Vulture's effects until the drug was finally purged from my system.

Abbot Mo listened in silence, his gaze steady. His expression was unreadable, but I could tell he wasn't entirely convinced. Still, he didn't challenge my words.

"To think that in just two years, you've gone from near death to reaching the fifth level… it's remarkable," he finally said.

I nodded. "It was sheer determination. The faith others placed in me pushed me forward. That's why I survived."

He studied me for a long moment before speaking again. "You're close to the sixth level," he observed, his voice tinged with admiration. "I can feel the energy within you. Is that why you've left the island? To break through?"

I met his gaze and nodded. "Yes. The Storm Surge Sect needs a master. I need to reach the sixth level as soon as possible so I can take in disciples. That's why I sought you out, Abbot Mo. I need the guidance of a light-core grandmaster."

At that, his lips curved into a knowing smile. "So, you've earned the trust of the Storm Surge Sect."

"Yes," I said. "And with that trust comes responsibility. I can't fail them."

He let out a quiet sigh, as if seeing me in a new light. "Look at you," he murmured, "healthy and strong. You've defeated the White Vulture."

I lowered my gaze. "I wouldn't have made it without the people at the temple. I owe them everything."

Abbot Mo set his teacup down and rose to his feet. "Since you're looking for a grandmaster," he said with a small smile, "you've found one."

I stared at him, confusion knitting my brow. Then, before my eyes, his aura shifted. The very air around him thickened with power, pressing against me with an overwhelming force.

The energy surrounding him—it was immense, far stronger than mine.

My jaw dropped. "Abbot Mo," I murmured in disbelief. "You're a grandmaster?"

He smiled, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Are you surprised?"

Still reeling, I slowly rose to my feet. The Endless Plain Sect was known to have only two grandmasters. One was a woman, and the other…

My breath caught in my throat as realization struck me. "Abbot Mo…" I whispered. "Are you… Sect Leader Cang?"

A subtle smile curved his lips. "Priest Luo, I trust you. That is why I've decided to reveal myself to you."

His words carried weight, yet all I could feel was the sting of irony. He trusted me, yet I had just lied to him.

I exhaled slowly, lowering my head in deep respect. "I am honored to meet the great Cang Bo in person. Very few have had this privilege."

He chuckled. "That's not entirely true. Many have seen me. They just don't realize it."

I nodded, still in awe. "No one would ever suspect that the humble Abbot Mo, known as a level-four cultivator, is in fact the elusive Sect Leader Cang. But… how do you conceal your true level? If you don't mind me asking."

His laughter was soft, yet full of amusement. "That trick is called 'Spirit Cloak', which I'm going to teach you later." Then his gaze sharpened, his expression turning serious. "Right now, let's test your limits."

A subtle challenge flickered in his eyes. "You've grown stronger, but raw strength alone won't take you to the next level. Sometimes, only in battle do we find the insight we need."

I took a steady breath before cupping my hands and bowing deeply. "It would be an honor, Sect Leader Cang."

Abbot Mo's serene smile never wavered as he stepped back, his robes flowing with the motion. He raised a hand and gestured toward me with a slight flick of his fingers—a silent invitation.

"Come."

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. Facing a grandmaster, even in a friendly duel, was no small matter. My grip tightened around my bamboo stick as I channeled my qi, dark and light intertwining in perfect balance within me.

Then, I moved.

I launched forward with a burst of wind, aiming a precise strike at his shoulder—a feint. At the last moment, I twisted my stance and redirected the blow toward his ribs instead, using the flexibility of my weapon to bend around his guard.

But before my strike could land, he was gone.

A blur. A mere whisper of movement.

A gust of wind followed in his wake as he reappeared behind me, tapping my shoulder with two fingers.

A light tap, yet it felt as if a mountain had settled upon me.

I gritted my teeth and spun, sweeping my stick low to knock him off balance, but he effortlessly stepped over it. Not even a ripple of disturbance in his posture.

Before I could recover, his hand shot forward. A mere palm strike, gentle in appearance but filled with refined power.

I barely managed to raise my weapon to block, but the impact sent a sharp tremor through my arms, nearly wrenching the stick from my grip.

I staggered back, breath coming fast. He hadn't even used full force.

This is the difference between an elite and a grandmaster.

I exhaled sharply, refusing to falter. Again.

I surged forward, blending speed with precision. My bamboo stick became an extension of myself, each strike faster than the last—sharp arcs of movement meant to overwhelm.

But it was like striking the wind.

Abbot Mo moved with the grace of flowing water, slipping past my attacks with effortless ease. His footwork was minimal, his movements precise. Not a single wasted step.

Then, without warning, he struck.

A single palm to my chest.

Power rippled through me. Not an attack meant to wound, but a forceful reminder of his superiority. My body refused to move. The breath was knocked from my lungs, and I skidded back several steps before dropping to one knee, my stick braced against the ground to keep me upright.

Silence stretched between us.

I panted, staring at him. Unscathed. Unshaken. Unmatched.

Finally, I let out a breath and lowered my weapon. "I concede."

Abbot Mo chuckled, the weight of the battle dissolving in an instant. "You lasted longer than I expected. That's promising."

I shook my head, both in admiration and frustration. "It's no wonder you are ranked fifth among the strongest cultivators in the continent."

He smiled. "Then take this lesson to heart. Power alone will not grant you victory. Strength is fleeting. But understanding 'true mastery' is what elevates a cultivator."

I nodded, absorbing his words. This was exactly why I had sought him out. To break through. To understand.

Abbot Mo stepped forward and offered me a hand. "Shall we begin your training?"

I grasped his hand and pulled myself to my feet, determination burning anew in my chest.

"I'm ready."