The First Step Beyond

The moment Jin crossed the threshold of the Vale, the world changed. The oppressive silence of the Hollow Vale faded, replaced by the distant hum of the living. The air smelled different—thicker, warmer, tinged with the essence of Qi untouched by death.

His feet touched solid ground, damp with the morning's dew. The path ahead was narrow and winding, leading into a dense forest. Here, the trees were vibrant, their leaves untouched by decay.

The spirits that had once whispered endlessly to him were now distant murmurs, watching but not daring to follow. He exhaled slowly, adjusting to this newfound atmosphere. It was strange, to stand in a world that pulsed with life rather than the stillness of death.

He walked forward, his movements slow but deliberate. He had never been beyond the Vale, never seen the world outside its shrouded embrace. And yet, he did not hesitate.

The Vale had chosen him, and its lessons had prepared him for this moment. His hands brushed against the bark of a nearby tree, feeling the raw vitality within.

Such energy—so foreign to him—buzzed beneath his fingers, making his skin prickle. 

Life. 

It was everywhere, and unlike the ghosts that had always surrounded him, it did not bow before him.

A rustling sound caught his attention. He turned, his pale eyes narrowing as figures emerged from the trees.

Three men, their robes marked with the insignia of the Azure Sun Sect, one of the lesser cultivation sects known for patrolling the outer regions.

Their robes were a deep blue, embroidered with golden threads forming the emblem of a rising sun.

Each of them carried a sword at their waist, though none had drawn their weapons—yet.

"A wanderer?" one of them mused, his gaze sweeping over Jin's tattered robes. His eyes held suspicion. "No, he's too strange to be a simple traveler."

The second man, older and more cautious, stepped forward. His senses probed the air around Jin, and immediately, his expression darkened. "His Qi… it's tainted. It's as if death clings to him."

Jin remained silent, watching them with the same detached gaze he had given the spirits of the Vale. He knew fear when he saw it. And they were afraid.

The third man, a junior disciple, tightened his grip on his sword. "Should we report this? A child wandering out of the Hollow Vale? It reeks of forbidden arts."

The older cultivator hesitated. "We should take him back to the sect for questioning."

Jin tilted his head. "No."

The single word, spoken in a calm, almost indifferent tone, sent a shiver through the group.

The junior disciple took a step forward. "You don't get a say in—"

Jin lifted his hand. A faint wisp of pale mist coiled around his fingers, and the very air seemed to wither. The leaves closest to him curled and browned, their life drained in an instant. The three men stumbled back, alarm flashing in their eyes.

"I do not wish to harm you," Jin said evenly. "But I will not be taken."

A heavy silence fell between them. The junior disciple's face contorted with anger, but his hand, which had begun to reach for his sword, hesitated. Even he understood that whatever Jin had just done was unnatural.

The older cultivator's face hardened. "He's dangerous."

Jin sighed. He had taken his first step beyond the Vale, and already, the world sought to bind him.

So be it.

The Pale Reaper had arrived.

One of the cultivators, the cautious elder, exhaled slowly. "You are young, but there is something about you that should not be. Who are you?"

Jin considered the question. Who was he, outside the Vale? He had no sect, no clan, no allegiances beyond the whispers of the dead. "I am no one," he answered simply.

The older cultivator frowned at the cryptic response. "That technique you used… it is not something I have seen before. Who was your master?"

Jin's gaze flickered. "Grandmother Night."

Recognition flashed across the older man's face, but the younger disciples were clueless. "A ghost name," the elder muttered under his breath. "That explains much."

The junior disciple, emboldened by his elder's hesitation, scoffed. "Regardless of where he comes from, his existence is unnatural. We should take him back to the sect. He may have information we need."

Jin's expression did not change. "I will not be taken."

"You think you have a choice?" the younger disciple spat, finally drawing his sword. The blade shimmered with a faint blue glow, Qi humming along its surface.

Jin sighed. The world was so quick to draw its weapons against him.

Before the disciple could take another step, the ground beneath them darkened. The trees around them, so full of life, suddenly seemed withered, their leaves dulling, their bark cracking. A cold wind, unnatural and whispering with the voices of the forgotten, snaked through the clearing. Jin did not move, but the very air around him became heavier, pressing down on those who stood against him.

The older cultivator's eyes widened. "Enough!" He raised a hand, signaling the junior disciple to lower his weapon. "This is not a battle we need to fight."

The younger disciple hesitated, his pride warring with his instinctive fear. Reluctantly, he sheathed his sword, though his expression remained defiant.

The elder cultivator turned back to Jin. "I do not know what you are, but I know this: the world will not welcome you easily. Walk carefully, child of the Vale."

Jin studied him for a moment before giving a slow nod. "I understand."

The tension in the air dissipated slightly as the three cultivators stepped back, unwilling to provoke him further. Without another word, they vanished into the forest, their forms disappearing among the trees.

Jin remained still, listening to the whispers of the wind, the silence left in their wake. He had been seen. He had been feared. The world beyond the Vale was exactly as Grandmother Night had warned him—a place of suspicion, of struggle.

But it did not matter.

He turned and continued walking, disappearing into the shadows of the trees. His journey had only just begun.