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In a forgotten corner of the world, a child is born without a name in the stars, without a thread of fate. No cry, no karma, no destiny — just silence.

Shen Mu was never meant to exist. Yet from the moment of his birth, the world began to shift. Hunted by monks who fear his presence, ignored by the heavens themselves, he grows in the shadow of fate, marked by an ancient system hidden within him.

But what if the greatest threat… is the memory sealed within his soul?

As mysterious sects rise and forgotten powers awaken, Shen Mu will walk the path of cultivation with no master, no allies — only a sword, a fragment of the void, and a truth that could shatter the heavens.

The World Hidden Within the Flesh of a God

Night had just fallen over the silent mountain. Under the pale light of the moon, the Sect of the Silent Soul was bathed in an almost unreal stillness.

But those attuned to the world's energy knew this peace was only a veil.

Shen Mu sat alone atop the northern cliff, cross-legged, his gaze fixed on the stars. His robes stirred slightly in the faint breeze, but his mind was elsewhere.

Ever since the battle with the three infiltrators, something within him had shifted. Not just in his cultivation or mastery of the arts. But something more subtle. Like a voice buried deep in his soul had suddenly awakened.

A breeze passed by, lifting the dust at his feet.

A line briefly appeared in his vision. The system said nothing more.

This was no quest. No challenge. It was a declaration.

A forgotten art. A sealed technique within his memory. Or perhaps… a fragment of his own past.

Shen Mu closed his eyes. And let the wind speak to him.

In his inner world, a figure appeared. His own reflection—but older. Calmer. A man whose eyes held an abyssal silence.

— The Silent Wind... it's not just a breeze. It's a blade.

At the same time, within the elders' chamber, the six elders of the sect were gathered.

The Sect Master, a long-bearded man, stared at the image projected before him: Shen Mu's silhouette, seated beneath the moon.

— This young man... has crossed a threshold, one elder said, slowly rubbing his spiritual ring.

— He's not just a genius. He seems to walk a path we don't understand.

— Is it the effect of that sword he retrieved in the dark mountains? Nihila?

The Sect Master shook his head slowly.

— The sword is just a tool. What intrigues me is the nature of his energy. It is… ancient. Far too ancient for a mere mortal realm cultivator.

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Then one elder, the oldest among them, murmured:

— In old legends passed down since the Age of the Lost Sovereigns… they spoke of a being born from silence and void. They sometimes called him the Bearer of the Mute Wind. It was said he shaped worlds without sound, and killed without hate.

— Children's tales, another elder scoffed softly.

— Perhaps, the old man replied. But if it's just a legend… then why do I feel like history is beginning to speak again through his voice?

He raised a hand. The breeze gathered, forming a thin line of light.

It sliced through the air. A tree trunk, several zhangs away, was cut cleanly in half. Without a sound.

A technique of assassination, but also of introspection. A technique that didn't rely on Qi, but on the link between the world and the one who listens.

His mind cleared. The whispers he sometimes heard in storms or through the forests now made sense.

[ New Skill Acquired: Art of the Silent Wind (Level 1)]

A technique of listening, evasion, and silent strikes. Strengthens with deeper understanding of inner calm.

Shen Mu opened his eyes. A deep serenity filled him. He wasn't chasing power. It came to him naturally. And every fragment of awakened truth brought him closer to a life he no longer remembered…

Farther below in the sect, a young disciple—accidentally witnessing the soundless felled tree—ran to alert an instructor.

— Master! A tree was cut down… without a sound! I swear I heard nothing!

The instructor raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

— The Silent Wind, he murmured. That's not a technique taught in our sect. But if someone begins to grasp its secret… then the winds are truly about to change.

That night, the sky felt vaster than before.

And on the mountain, a young cultivator stood tall, gazing at the horizon.

The stars had not yet spoken to him.

Chapter 33 – The Awakening of the Silent Wind