Rising Shadow

Robert knew that strength without control was useless. Power requires discipline.

When it comes to a real fight, having strength is only a small piece of the overall strategy.

"In a fight," he murmured, "speed can mean survival." Reaction, footwork, timing… they all matter.

He had started strengthening his body and awakening his soul, but now it was time to start Shadow Step.

He stood upright in the cave, speaking with clarity:

System, show me the details of the Shadow Step Technique.

The system's voice echoed, calm and emotionless:

[Unlock a new movement technique: the Partial Shadow Step, classified as Mortal Rank: Mid-Grade. Status: Upgradeable]

[Description: A foundational technique once used by assassins in the Eastern Night Sect. Partial Shadow Step teaches how to manipulate one's center of gravity and time movement with breath, creating momentary afterimages and reducing sound produced by footfall. Ideal for stealth and evasive combat.]

The system's voice broke the technique down into four distinct stages:

[Step One: Silent Footfall]

Become an expert at creeping. Start by leaning your weight toward the front of your foot and gently raising your heel. This will enable you to move swiftly and remain undetected.

[Step Two: Breath Sync]

Ensure that you coordinate your breathing with your movements: inhale deeply and exhale as you move. This technique will help you maintain your stamina and keep your inner balance in check.

[Step Three: Swift Turn]

Swift Turn: try making small twists with your waist and shoulders to shift direction quickly without breaking your rhythm. This technique works wonders for dodging or countering while you're in motion.

[Step Four: Fading Image]

Channel energy through your core and limbs to leave behind a momentary blur, an illusion that makes it harder for enemies to track your real location.

After hearing the system's explanation, Robert requested a visual demonstration of the first level of the shadow step Silent Footfall.

A glowing outline appeared before him, repeating the movement with accuracy. He watched it carefully seven to eight times, memorizing every step.

Then, he began his practice. 

At first, his movements were clumsy. 

His balance shifted too early, and his steps made noise.

Just a few repetitions drained nearly half of his energy.

Gritting his teeth, he pulled out one of the remaining spirit stones from the system stored and let its energy flow into him, restoring his strength. 

Again and again, he tried.

Hours passed. The cold cave floor did nothing to slow his determination. 

He moved until his legs trembled, and his breath came in sharp bursts.

And still, he pressed on, refining his balance, steadying his breath, and quieting his steps.

By dawn, every spirit stone was spent. But his effort wasn't in vain. 

He had reached a half-step mastery of the first level of Silent Footfall. 

And more than that, his speed had increased. Not just marginally, but fivefold compared to most other Level 4 Body Tempering martial artists.

A faint smile tugged at his lips.

This… was progress. 

"The morning sun greeted Robert as he stepped out of the cave, blinking into the golden light above." 

A full day had passed since he'd left the clan, yet it felt like much more.

Taking a deep breath, he focused on his energy and activated Shadow Step.

His figure flashed, his presence all but vanishing as he darted through the forest like a whisper in the wind.

As he reached the borders of the Orsban Clan, the sun was already rising higher and higher in the sky.

Slowing his pace, he walked calmly through the familiar roads, ears alert. 

Voices drifted from the nearby market stalls and crowded groups of gossiping passersby. 

"Someone muttered, 'You heard about it? Three from the James Clan—dead."

"They say their cores were shattered. No traces left behind."

"James Clan members have been searching the city all night. Still no clue who did it."

While Robert's face showed no signs of worry, his eyes tightened slightly. So they were still after him... and he thought he had left no clues. Good. 

He picked up his pace, walking through the crowd with practiced ease. 

It wasn't long before the grand gate of the Orsban Clan came into view, tall and proud as ever.

Two guards at the entrance stiffened slightly at his approach but quickly relaxed upon recognizing him. 

"Young Master Robert", one of them greeted with a respectful nod.

Robert gave a small nod in return and stepped through.

He moved straight toward the inner residence, climbing the steps to a side corridor. At the far end, the door to his father's study stood slightly open.

As he reaches his father's study room.

A gentle voice could be heard echoing from inside the room.

 He paused for a second, then knocked lightly.

"Enter," the deep, recognizable voice of John Osborn rang out, his father and the current leader of the Orsban Clan.

Robert pushed the door open. 

His father sat at a wide desk, scrolls and clan reports spread before him, a faint crease on his brow.

Even in his resting state, there was a weight to the man, a quiet pressure that filled the room.

Robert knew that pressure well.

His father, John Osborn, was part of the Soul Manifestation Realm, specifically at Level 1.

As Robert stepped closer, he braced himself. He'll know. He'll sense it the moment I'm near.

Sure enough, as Robert crossed the room's threshold, his father's brows drew tight. His eyes narrowed, then widened in disbelief.

He stood up from his chair in a sharp motion, his voice quiet but laced with shock. "You… Robert?" 

There was a heartbeat of silence.

John took a step closer, his attention not on Robert's face but on something deeper. He felt the presence, the spiritual energy that clung to Robert's body like a second skin.

His mouth opened slightly. "You've started cultivating."

Robert nodded. "Yes."

John was taken aback, blinking in disbelief. A breath escaped him, a blend of shock and something else entirely. "How… When did this happen?"

"Three days ago," Robert said calmly, forcing calm into his voice.

I took some time away from the clan to think things over… And in the heart of the forest, I ran into someone. 

A senior cultivator."

His father's brows twitched at that, a flicker of worry or perhaps worry in his eyes. 

Robert pressed on, picking each word carefully. "He was… powerful. Just standing near him made it hard to breathe.

He said there was something dormant inside me, like my body had been sealed off somehow. He helped me break through it."

He hesitated, then added with a mix of surprise and awe, "He called himself Elder Lin."

There was a long silence.

John Osborn's expression changed not to anger, but to something deeper.

His eyes softened, just slightly. He stepped closer, gripping Robert's shoulders with both hands, his voice low and almost rough.

"You've started cultivating…" he whispered, more to himself than to Robert. "After all this time…"

Robert nodded. "Body cultivation, Level 4. And… my soul sense has awakened."

A sharp breath escaped John, and his hands trembled just for a moment.

He looked at his son as if truly seeing him for the first time in years.

Pride flickered in his gaze, but so did concern and an undercurrent of guilt.

"I thought you'd never be able to cultivate it…" he murmured.

"The healers gave up. I gave up, and all clan members also gave up on you."

Robert looked away, jaw tight. "I didn't."

John's grip tightened slightly. "This Elder Lin… where is he now?"

Robert shook his head. "He vanished after helping me. He said his part was done."

John fell silent, staring into the distance. Then, after a long pause, he said, "You've taken your first step. Good. But walk carefully, Robert.

You've caught the attention of fate, and that always comes with a price."

Robert nodded slowly at his father's words, the weight of it sinking over him like a cover.

"He said I want to participate in the clan's competition next month." 

After listening to Robert's words, John Osborn's face became unreadable.

The air between them grew tense as the patriarch of the Osborn Clan studied his son with the keen eyes of a martial artist, not just a father.

After a long pause, he finally spoke. "If you can reach Level 8 in Body Tempering within twenty days, I'll consider granting you permission to participate in the clan's competition." 

Robert toughened. Twenty days? That would require pushing himself far beyond normal limits. But instead of hesitation, resolve flashed in his eyes. 

"I'll do it, Father."

 His dad nodded once, but his expression remained serious. "You'll need more than just determination to get through this." 

Robert took a breath and stepped closer.

"I'll need a sword. I want to begin practicing sword cultivation. And… more spirit stones, if possible." 

John studied him a moment longer, then turned and pulled open a compartment in his spatial ring.

A soft clink followed as he placed a small pouch into Robert's hand. 

"Twenty low-grade spirit stones. Use them wisely."

Robert bowed slightly in gratitude. "Thank you, Father."

 "Come with me," John said briskly. We'll go to the weapons hall. Choose your blade there. 

They left the study together, their footsteps echoing down the polished stone hallway of the Osborn Clan.

John walked with quiet pride, while Robert moved with the steady confidence of someone who no longer hides his power. 

His cultivation aura, though faint, was unmistakable. He did not attempt to suppress it. Servants and guards gave way quickly, bowing with subtle deference, but their eyes lingered on him. Whispers began to stir. 

"When did he start cultivating it?" "Wasn't he crippled?" The questions spread like wildfire. 

Robert heard them but didn't flinch. Let them whisper. Let them wonder. He was done hiding. The real journey had begun.