The spirit core rolled gently onto the ground as the body slumped.
“Too easy,” Kent muttered, retrieving it. “One down.”
But then—something changed.
A ripple passed through the forest, not of beast or wind, but killing intent. Subtle. Cold.
Kent narrowed his eyes.
“Come out.”
Nothing.
But from behind a thick birch, a figure emerged slowly, clapping with mock amusement.
“Well, well, the prodigy finally leaves his little cultivation shell,” said the figure. A young man in deep blue robes with silver trims, long hair tied in a high knot, and a cold sneer plastered across his face.
Two others stepped out from behind trees, each wearing similar uniforms. All bore jade tokens on their belts—fellow disciples.
“Name?” Kent asked, not in curiosity but challenge.
The leader smirked. “You don’t need to remember it. You’ll just remember the beating.”
Kent didn’t reply, only adjusted his grip on the mace.