Rift Scar

Zhao Feng's breath was steady, yet within his body, his Qi surged like a raging tide. After his recent breakthrough, he could feel the difference—a new depth of power coursing through his veins, refined yet volatile. It wasn't just an increase in raw strength; something had changed within the nature of his Qi itself.

Standing in the quiet of the forest clearing, he extended his hand and gathered his energy, forming a blade-thin arc of Qi between his fingers. It felt strange—lighter, yet denser at the same time, as if it existed half within reality and half beyond. Trusting his instincts, he flicked his wrist, releasing the energy outward.

A thin, almost imperceptible arc shot forward. The moment it struck a thick boulder, a deep silence followed. Zhao Feng frowned, expecting an impact, a burst of force—but there was nothing. Then, with an unnatural slowness, the top half of the boulder slid off, revealing an impossibly smooth cut.

He inhaled sharply. This was not a simple slash—it had erased whatever lay in its path. Yet before he could fully appreciate the technique, a sharp pain flared through his meridians. His Qi faltered, and he staggered, pressing a hand to his chest.

"So unstable…" he muttered, his breath uneven. The power was immense, but wielding it carelessly could tear apart his own body. The technique wasn't fully formed; his control over it was lacking.

Determined, Zhao Feng adjusted his stance. If this ability was going to be useful, he needed to refine it. He focused on the energy within him, carefully recreating the effect. When he slashed again, the result was different—this time, the arc wavered in mid-air, then dispersed before reaching its target.

His brows furrowed. Why was it unstable? He could feel something interfering with the attack, as if the energy itself resisted being shaped. Trying once more, he poured more intent into the strike. This time, as the arc traveled, it left behind a faint ripple in the air—a distortion that lingered for several moments before fading.

Rift Scar.

The realization hit him immediately. This technique didn't just cut—it disrupted. If he could control the instability, he might be able to use that lingering effect to weaken an opponent's defenses, corroding Qi barriers over time. But for now, it was too inconsistent to rely on.

He sighed and sat down cross-legged. Rushing wouldn't help—he needed to refine his control. As he cycled his Qi, he focused on the flow of energy within him. His breakthrough had given him more than just raw strength; his Qi was sharper, more attuned to his will. If he could harness it properly, this ability could become a formidable weapon.

For the next hour, Zhao Feng repeated the process, testing the technique over and over again. Sometimes, the slash was too weak. Other times, it was too strong, destabilizing his Qi in the process. Slowly, he began to understand the balance required.

As he stood up to try once more, a thought crossed his mind. If I can make this attack completely silent, it would be even deadlier.

A challenge, but one worth pursuing.

Taking a deep breath, he focused, this time attempting to remove even the faintest sound from the attack. When he slashed, the air barely stirred. It wasn't perfect yet, but he could feel himself getting closer.

Then, his instincts flared.

His body tensed as he felt something—a presence, faint but undeniable, watching him from the shadows of the forest. He slowly turned his head, his gaze scanning the darkness between the trees.

No movement. No sound. But he knew something was there.

Zhao Feng didn't react outwardly, but his fingers curled slightly, readying another Void Edge. Whether it was a beast, a wandering cultivator, or something else entirely, he had no intention of being caught off guard.

The night stretched on, silent and oppressive. Whatever it was, it was patient. Watching. Waiting.

But Zhao Feng was patient too. 

No movement. No sound. But he knew something was there.

Zhao Feng didn't react outwardly, but his fingers curled slightly, readying another Void Edge. Whether it was a beast, a wandering cultivator, or something else entirely, he had no intention of being caught off guard.

The night stretched on, silent and oppressive. Whatever it was, it was patient. Watching. Waiting.

But Zhao Feng was patient too.

For what felt like an eternity, neither side moved. Then, just as the tension reached its peak, a faint ripple in the air betrayed the intruder's position. It was subtle, barely perceptible, but Zhao Feng had honed his senses to their limit. Without hesitation, he twisted to the side, launching a Void Edge toward the disturbance.

A sharp metallic clang rang through the night as his attack was intercepted mid-flight. Sparks flashed as his blade of compressed spatial energy met a thin, black dagger that shimmered unnaturally in the darkness. Zhao Feng's eyes narrowed.

A figure emerged from the shadows of the jagged rocks ahead. Cloaked in a tattered black robe, their face remained obscured, but an oppressive aura seeped from them like a creeping tide. Whoever they were, their movements were precise—too precise for a mere wandering rogue.

"So you're the one disturbing the flow of energy in these mountains," the stranger spoke, their voice a low rasp. "And you have claimed something that does not belong to you."

Zhao Feng's fingers twitched slightly. "If you're referring to that crystal, then you should have taken it before I did."

A sharp chuckle escaped the figure. "Ignorant. That fragment was never meant for you. But since you dare to claim it… I will carve it from your corpse."

Without warning, the figure lunged forward, the black dagger elongating into a blade of condensed Qi. Zhao Feng reacted instantly, pushing off the ground with a burst of speed, his footwork weaving him out of harm's way. The sheer pressure of the blade's arc sent a razor-sharp gust tearing through the air, leaving a deep gash in the rocky terrain.

His mind raced. This opponent was dangerous—far more than the beast he had just fought. And from their words, they had prior knowledge of the crystal's existence. Were they part of some hidden sect? A guardian of whatever ancient force lingered within these lands?

Zhao Feng had no time for hesitation. As his opponent closed in once more, he channeled his Qi with precision, the foundation of his new power stirring within him. He had barely begun to understand the crystal's significance, but if it was valuable enough to kill for, then he would not surrender it so easily.

He flicked his wrist, summoning another Void Edge, but instead of releasing it, he compressed it further, forcing the spatial energy to its limit. The blade vibrated violently in his grip, the sheer density threatening to collapse under its own force.

His opponent hesitated for a fraction of a second, recognizing the danger—but it was too late. Zhao Feng slashed forward, and the compressed Void Edge erupted in a silent shockwave, the sheer force distorting the air itself.

The figure barely managed to twist out of the way, but the attack still grazed their shoulder. A sharp hiss escaped them as the fabric of their cloak shredded, revealing pale skin marred with faint, glowing runes.

Zhao Feng's gaze sharpened. Those markings… they weren't ordinary.

The stranger exhaled slowly, their grip tightening on their weapon. "Interesting," they murmured. "You might be more trouble than I expected."

Zhao Feng didn't respond. He was already moving, pressing the attack. His Void Edges were sharper, faster, infused with an undeniable weight—a result of his recent advancement to Qi Formation peak Level. His power had grown, and he was eager to test its limits.

Lightning-fast exchanges filled the air, the battlefield shifting with every strike and counter. The stranger's movements became more erratic, as if testing Zhao Feng's limits, probing his weaknesses. But Zhao Feng refused to falter.

Finally, after a prolonged clash, the stranger leapt back, their expression hidden behind the shadows of their hood. "This isn't over," they said, their voice calm despite the wounds they had sustained. "You've stepped into something far beyond your understanding. That fragment will call others to you, ones even I would not dare cross."

Zhao Feng remained silent, watching as the figure vanished into the darkness as suddenly as they had appeared. He exhaled slowly, his body still thrumming with battle-readiness.

He glanced down at his palm, where residual energy from his last attack still crackled faintly. His control had improved, but he was still far from mastering this new level of power. If more enemies were coming… he needed to grow stronger, and fast.

The night remained silent once more, but the oppressive feeling lingered. Zhao Feng knew now—his path forward was anything but simple.

He turned his gaze back toward the mountains, the crystal's faint glow barely visible beneath his robes. The weight of its significance pressed down on him, but he pushed the thought aside. There was no turning back now.

A sudden gust of wind swept through the valley, carrying with it a distant echo—one that almost sounded like laughter.

Zhao Feng narrowed his eyes. Whatever lay ahead, he would be ready.