Robert moved alone beneath the thick canopy, each step placed with care. The forest ground was soft with rot and fallen leaves, but even softness could betray sound if weight shifted poorly. He controlled his breathing first, then his pulse, allowing his qi to settle inward instead of radiating outward. Shadow Step was not just speed; it was rhythm, timing, and restraint.
The others were fighting elsewhere. He could still faintly sense distant disturbances where Sai and the rest had clashed. Those ripples had faded now. That ant either victory or silence. He did not allow his mind to dwell on that.
His focus stayed forward. A broken twig lay half-pressed into damp soil. Not snapped by a beast. The break was angled, recent. A heel had turned there. Human, he thought.
Robert crouched and brushed his two fingers near the mark without touching it. The qi residue was faint but present. Suppressed carefully like trained killers.
Four. He closed his eyes briefly and expanded his perception just enough to feel the surrounding flow. Qi in the forest did not move smoothly; it pooled and thinned. But against that uneven backdrop, controlled concealnt left its own trace. Like smooth stones in a rough stream. Three cultivators hovered ahead, spread loosely. The fourth stayed farther back. Watching them.
The leader. Robert adjusted direction slightly, circling downwind. The sll reached him before the sight did. Old blood, not fresh. They had fought recently with the beast.
Good. That ant they were not perfectly composed. He slipped between two thick trunks and lowered himself behind a tangle of roots. Ten paces ahead, a man in dark travel leathers scanned the brush. Spirit Root Level 5. Blade in hand. Shoulders tight. Alert but tired.
Robert waited. The man shifted his stance, his attention flicking toward a distant sound that did not exist. Robert created that distraction with a tiny pebble flicked earlier, a calculated misdirection. When the assassin's gaze turned, Robert moved.
Shadow Step compressed distance into a breath. Twin Dragon Fang followed with no flourish. Two precise thrusts. One to the lower ribs to steal air. One to the throat to end the sound.
The man collapsed before surprise fully reached his eyes. Robert caught the body, lowering it slowly to the ground. Leaves barely stirred. A faint system pulse registered. Soul energy absorbed. He did not check the numbers. Survival first.
Robert moved alone beneath the thick canopy, each step placed with care. The forest ground was soft with rot and fallen leaves, but even softness could betray sound if weight shifted poorly. He controlled his breathing first, then his pulse, allowing his qi to settle inward instead of radiating outward. Shadow Step was not just speed; it was rhythm, timing, and restraint.
He retreated imdiately, shifting angle. Staying near a corpse was death. The second assassin reacts to sothing. A whisper of movent. He advanced cautiously, his blade raised. Careless enemies were easy. Careful ones were dangerous.
Robert faked a misstep, letting a leaf crunch softly. The assassin lunged toward the sound. Robert was not there. Shadow Step placed him behind and slightly to the left. The assassin twisted fast, nearly fast enough. His short sword grazed Robert's sleeve, slicing cloth and skin beneath.
Pain flared, sharp and real. Good. Pain kept the mind awake. Robert answered with a low slash across the back of the knee. The man buckled. A follow-up strike pierced under the jaw. Quick and final strike.
Robert exhaled slowly. Blood ward his arm. Not deep, but bleeding. He pressed a pressure point to slow it down. Two down. The forest seed to tighten around him. Birds still avoided this patch. Smart beasts.
The third assassin did not walk into a trap. He retreated instead, sensing the shift. Robert pursued, but not directly. He paralleled, using trees as cover.
They spotted each other at the sa mont. The assassin threw three thin blades. Not to kill. To force movent. Robert deflected one, twisted past another, but the third cut across his thigh. Shallow. Annoying.
The assassin closed in, the sword flashing. Fast wrists. Repeated probing strikes aid at the shoulders and neck. Testing reactions. Robert gave ground deliberately. Let the man believe advantage was his. Let his breathing grow louder. Let his footwork seem heavier.
The assassin committed to a forward thrust. That was the mistake. Robert dropped low instead of back. Shadow Step burst sideways, not away. Twin Dragon Fang drove upward beneath the rib cage. The man's montum sealed his fate.
He fell hard. Robert caught himself on a tree, his thigh burning now. Too many small wounds. They accumulated. System pulse and collected the soul energy.
Then the forest went still differently. The fourth presence no longer hid. A man stepped from behind a wide trunk. Older than the others. Not aged but worn. His stance is balanced. His gaze was steady. Spirit Root Level 7, low stage, but dense and controlled.
He did not rush. He did not speak. He had seen enough to understand Robert was dangerous. They circled slowly. The assassin's sword was plain but well-kept. No ornant. A working blade. He flicked it once, testing the weight. His qi wrapped around it like a second edge.
Robert felt his own exhaustion clearly now. Shoulder tight. Thigh stinging. Arm bleeding slowly. Breathing heavier than before. Direct clash would be costly.
The assassin moved first. A short burst forward, blade cutting in a diagonal arc. Clean. Efficient. Robert blocked and slid aside, but the impact numbed his wrist. Stronger than the others by a wide margin.
A second strike followed instantly. Then a third. A flowing sequence ant to overwhelm guard transitions. Robert retreated step by step, letting bark and roots disrupt the rhythm.
A root caught his foot. His balance dipped. The assassin's blade opened a line across Robert's side. Not deep, but it burned. Robert let his posture sag slightly. Let his shoulders drop. Let exhaustion show.
The assassin watched closely. Not fooled easily. He slowed, asuring. Good. Cautious ant he believed he was winning. Robert forced two heavier breaths. Let his guard lag by a fraction.
The assassin lunged for a decisive thrust toward the chest. Robert triggered Shadow Step at the last possible heartbeat. Not backward. Forward and inside. The assassin's sword extended past the optimal line. Robert rotated, driving Twin Dragon Fang under the arm where armour and muscle left a narrow gap.
The blade sank in. Shock flickered across the assassin's face. Not outrage. Not disbelief. Just recognition of the end. He tried to counter, but strength fled too fast. Robert withdrew and stepped away as the man fell. Silence returned, thick and heavy.
Robert stayed still for several breaths, ensuring no last attack ca. Then the system pulse washed over him again. Soul energy gathered. He finally checked his condition. Too much blood scent in the air. Too much spilt qi. This would draw attention.
He swallowed a healing pill. Warmth spread slowly, dulling pain, closing smaller cuts. Not restoration. Just function. He looked once at the bodies. with no regret. Just an enemy.
Four killers were removed. But the forest did not care who hunted whom. It only cared about blood. A distant howl rolled through the trees. Not close yet. But closer than before.
Robert turned and moved, slipping into denser brush, suppressing his qi again. Each step carried weight now, but also clarity. They had survived the assassins.
Now they had to survive what the blood would bring. He disappeared into the green shadows as the forest began to stir.
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