Sowhere in the trees three hundred ters away, Liu i stared at her ice crystal notebook. At the notes she’d just taken. At the detailed description of Shadow Step Level Four that should have been impossible for a Foundation Realm cultivator to execute without imdiately dying or going insane or both.
Her hand trembled slightly as she wrote. Not from fear. From excitent. The kind of academic thrill that ca from witnessing sothing that rewrote everything you thought you knew. The kind of excitent that made two hundred years of cultivation feel worth it.
Ergency Entry: Combat Analysis
Subject created four independent shadow constructs. Shadow Step Level Four. Advanced technique that requires Soul Transformation realm minimum according to Azure Cloud Sect records.
Subject is Foundation Realm.
This is impossible.
She underlined "impossible" three tis. Then added a fourth line for emphasis. Then drew a small confused face in the margin because even her disciplined note-taking couldn’t contain the sheer absurdity.
This is absolutely impossible.
This is "rewrite the cultivation manuals" levels of impossible.
This is "report to the Sect Elders imdiately" impossible except I don’t want to share this discovery yet because they’ll steal my research.
Liu i paused, stylus hovering over the crystal. That last thought was problematic. She should report this. She was obligated to report this. A Foundation Realm cultivator using Soul Transformation techniques was either a threat or a treasure or possibly both simultaneously.
But reporting ant other sect mbers would swoop in like vultures. Would take over her investigation. Would claim credit for her discovery. Would probably kill the interesting subject before figuring out what made him special.
Sect politics were exhausting. This was why she preferred solo assignnts.
She continued writing.
Subject either has:A) Unprecedented talent (unlikely given his terrible technique and tendency to explode things accidentally)B) Impossible treasure or artifact (possible, would explain power without skill)C) Secret heritage from ancient cultivation family (also possible but he seems too stupid to hide it well)D) Is protected by plot armor (most likely explanation, universe clearly favors idiots)E) Is actually a reincarnated expert (would explain everything but seems too convenient)F) Made a pact with sothing demonic (investigation purpose, currently seems unlikely, subject too nice)
Recomndation: Continue observation. If subject survives blood loss and potential soul fragntation, consider direct contact.
She paused again. Direct contact. The words looked wrong written in ice crystal. She’d been observing for four days now. Four days of watching from the shadows like so kind of creepy stalker cultivator. Four days of taking notes about a man who didn’t know she existed.
Direct contact ant revealing herself. ant explaining why she’d been watching. ant social interaction.
Liu i was two hundred years old and still terrible at social interaction.
Or continue observing from safe distance because explaining "I’ve been watching you sleep for four days" sounds significantly worse when said out loud than it does in my head.
Note to self: If initiating contact, do NOT ntion the watching-him-sleep part.
Additional note: Also don’t ntion that I know his disciples’ nas, training schedule, dietary habits, and the fact that he talks himself like a psycho.
Further note: Maybe I have been stalking him. This is concerning.
Liu i closed the notebook with a soft click. Pulled out a spirit fruit from her storage pouch. Bit into it without tasting because her brain was too busy having a minor crisis about whether she’d accidentally beco a creepy cultivation stalker.
No. This was professional observation. Legitimate investigation. She was gathering intelligence on a potential threat. The fact that she’d started thinking of his disciples by na instead of "Subject’s Follower A, B, and C" was just good note-taking practice. The fact that she’d felt genuinely relieved when he survived was just professional interest in continuing her research.
Professional. Interest.
She was definitely lying to herself but two hundred years of cultivation ant she was very good at it.
Liu i settled deeper into her concealnt formation, adjusting the ice qi that kept her hidden from spiritual senses. The formation was her own design, perfected over decades. Nobody below Golden Core could detect it. Most Golden Core cultivators would miss it too.
She wasn’t leaving. Not yet. Not until she understood what Hunter actually was.
Besides, the entertainnt value alone was worth extending her observation period. When would she get another chance to watch soone this incompetent succeed this spectacularly? It was like watching a baby bird fall out of a nest and sohow fly anyway despite having no idea how wings worked.
She pulled out a second spirit fruit. Started making a ntal list of questions for if she ever worked up the courage to make contact.
Question one: How are you not dead?
Question two: No seriously, how?
Question three: Can you teach that technique or will it kill ?
Question four: Why do you collect disciples like they’re stray cats?
Question five: Are you actually insane or just pretending?
This was going to require more notebooks.
-
anwhile, In The Spirit Realm.
The three squirrels that Hunter had released limped into the Great Burrow looking like they’d fought a war and lost badly. They were bloody. Traumatized. Possibly concussed. Definitely having an existential crisis about their life choices.
The Squirrel Council sat in their hollowed-out tree chamber, arranged in a circle of judgnt. Twelve elder squirrels, each with decades of cultivation, each bearing scars from countless battles. The council chamber slled like acorns and poor decisions.
Elder Gray-Tail, the oldest squirrel in living mory, gestured for the scouts to speak. "Report."
The first scout stepped forward, still trembling. "The human... he made copies of himself."
"Copies?" Elder Three-Claw scoffed. "You an illusions. Shadow tricks."
"No." The scout’s voice was firm despite the shaking. "Copies. Real ones. Four of them. They moved independently. They fought independently. They had their own thoughts."
The council chamber went silent.
"That’s..." Elder Gray-Tail’s one good eye narrowed. "That’s not possible."
"We know what we saw!" The second scout burst out. "The alpha fought five of him at once! Five separate enemies! They coordinated like they shared one brain but had five bodies! It was terrifying! It was unnatural! It was really, really unfair!"
"The alpha?" Another elder leaned forward. "Where is the alpha?"
The third scout’s voice dropped to a whisper. "Dead. Core taken. Body left in the dirt like trash."
You could have heard a acorn drop. The council stared in collective horror.
"The alpha was our strongest fighter," Elder Three-Claw said slowly. "Thirty years of cultivation. C-rank beast core. How did a human—"
"He moved through shadows like they were doors," the first scout interrupted. "Appeared behind the alpha. Stabbed upward. Used the alpha’s own jump against it. It was brilliant. It was terrifying. I want to never see it again."
Elder Gray-Tail stood up slowly, every joint creaking. The chamber fell silent. When Gray-Tail spoke, everyone listened because Gray-Tail had survived three human cultivation sects, two spirit beast purges, and one catastrophic winter by making smart decisions quickly.
"Can we win if we fight this human?"
The three scouts looked at each other. Then, in perfect unison: "No."
"Can we negotiate with this human?"
"He let us go when he could have killed us," the second scout admitted. "So... maybe? But also he’s insane. Hard to negotiate with insane."
"Can we live in this forest with this human and avoid conflict?"
The first scout shook its head violently. "He protects the refugees. We attack refugees. He killed our alpha for attacking refugees. Math says we’ll fight again. Math says we’ll lose again."
Elder Gray-Tail nodded slowly. "Then we migrate."
"WHAT?!" half the council exploded.
"We’re running away?!" Elder Three-Claw stood up, fur bristling. "From one human?! We’re three hundred strong!"
"And he killed our strongest fighter in single combat while injured," Gray-Tail said calmly. "While bleeding from multiple wounds. While protecting mortals. While apparently being clinically insane." The old squirrel’s one eye swept the council. "I’ve survived two hundred years by knowing when to fight and when to run. This is a ’run’ situation."
"But our territory—"
"Is just territory. We can find more. We can’t replace lives." Gray-Tail’s voice went hard. "The Pine Forest, past the Twin Rivers. It’s unclaid. We leave at dawn. All in favor?"
Silence. Then, slowly, paws raised. One by one. Until all twelve council mbers had voted.
Unanimous.
"Pack everything," Gray-Tail ordered. "Food stores, young ones, injured. We travel fast and we travel quiet. And we spread the word."
"Spread what word?"
"That the eastern forest belongs to the shadow human now. That he makes copies. That he kills alphas. That he’s either insane or brilliant or both. That anyone smart avoids him." Gray-Tail’s whiskers twitched. "We’re not the first group to run from a dangerous cultivator. We won’t be the last. But we’ll be alive."
By nightfall, the Red-Maple Shadow Squirrel swarm was gone. Three hundred squirrels lting into the forest like they’d never been there. Heading west with everything they owned and a healthy dose of trauma.
And everywhere they went, they told other spirit beasts the sa story. With growing embellishnts.
"He made TEN copies of himself!"
"He killed the alpha with ONE strike!"
"He ATE the beast core!"
"He’s TWELVE FEET TALL!"
By the ti the story spread through three territories, Hunter had beco a legend. The Shadow Master.
But that was Future Hunter’s problem.
Present Hunter was unconscious, bleeding, possibly dying from soul fragntation, and blissfully unaware that he’d just beco the eastern forest’s newest local legend by being too stubborn to lose a fight he had no business winning.
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