Dream Sword

"It is surprisingly strict... more methodical than I imagined."

An Jing had sensed this in the past, but looking at it now, even a hidden training ground for some reclusive sect could not explain this level of defensive planning; it was clearly designed to withstand an army's assault.

Xuanming Manor is massive, shaped overall like the characters 'Tian-Yi-Shen-Yi-Tian'.

The center of the 'Shen' is the Medicine Pavilion, and the living quarters for the trainee children occupy less than a quarter of that space.

The 'Tian' sections on either side are located on the hillsides flanking Xuanming Manor, where many herbs are planted; during training, An Jing could often see people working the fields there.

Behind Xuanming Manor lies the back mountain with its waterfall and deep pool, one of the manor's water sources. Further back is a great gorge, which An Jing learned from instructors like Li was called 'Xuanming Valley', from which the manor took its name. It is incredibly deep, though he had never seen it with his own eyes.

An Jing walked silently through the darkness.

Although all the instructors were at the Internal Breath realm, their martial arts were not particularly profound. Through so much time spent fishing for information, An Jing knew that these instructors were all 'failures' from past tests.

As for what exactly constituted failure, it likely depended on whether one had awakened a Life Chart, but even without a Life Chart, one could still cultivate Internal Breath to the level of a surging tide.

At the county level, that was strong enough.

--Perhaps there are still a few instructors on patrol; I must be cautious.

An Jing never overestimated himself. He circulated the mastered Linyuan Qi-Nurturing Stake, drawing his aura inward until it was almost non-existent.

Not only that, but An Jing's muscles also tensed, maintaining a precise balance with tighter, more restrained power, storing up strength throughout his entire body.

It is no wonder An Jing suspected Xuanming Manor was a place for training assassins and death warriors; this mental cultivation method was perfectly suited for infiltration. Moreover, using the Armor-Piercing True Energy after nurturing one's qi allowed for a terrifying, explosive burst when combined, making it a genuine, life-risking technique.

This set of martial arts was of a very high level, certainly not something taught in ordinary city martial arts halls. Based on An Jing's knowledge, this life-risking explosive technique was enough to serve as the trump card for any famous martial arts hall.

If they could teach such martial arts, they shouldn't be that shortsighted... having spent so much money to buy children to teach them martial arts, it didn't make sense that they would just kill them off...

And those instructor riders, servants, and laborers also vaguely revealed that they were the children eliminated from past training... Without a Life Chart, one would eventually be eliminated. Those strange beast meats and medicinal potions must also be for catalyzing Life Charts, or rather, cultivating people to a state close to awakening one?

Life Chart, Life Chart... is there really a way to artificially catalyze a Life Chart using other means? It just doesn't feel right...

Muttering to himself, the truth was that even now, An Jing was still reluctant to suspect Xuanming Manor.

After all, in this chaotic world, Xuanming Manor had ultimately saved many people.

Perhaps he didn't need saving, but the other children had indeed found a path to survival because of Xuanming Manor.

An Jing observed the surrounding restricted areas from a high vantage point as quickly as possible, but generally speaking, there was nothing unusual.

Most of what was stored in those pavilions were medicinal herbs or books and charts. Some were empty rooms that might have housed people before, but they hadn't been used for at least seven or eight years.

Of course, the fact that no one had been there for seven or eight years was indeed abnormal—why were those rooms empty? Could it be that there was a time when Xuanming Manor had more students?

Seven or eight years ago... ten years ago... wait, that period?

An Jing's pupils contracted slightly—the Hanhai Demonic Calamity?

That's right! If it were during the Hanhai Demonic Calamity, it would indeed be similar to the current Frost Calamity in the Northern Frontier, with a large number of Children of Calamity appearing. The intensity of the Hanhai Demonic Calamity far exceeded that of a mere cold disaster with heavy snow, and Xuanming Manor would certainly have been able to find more Children of Calamity willing to sell themselves!

Having figured this out, An Jing found nothing else unusual.

If he had to say, the only anomaly was that he couldn't find anyone.

Could they have really been sent down the mountain?

An Jing was somewhat puzzled. If Zhang Ying hadn't been the little follower who stuck to him since the second day he entered the manor, he wouldn't have had the urge to find her.

But now, he had searched the entire main manor without finding a trace.

Sighing inwardly, An Jing decided to turn back: "Forget it, I'll go back and sleep early; there's training tomorrow."

However, just as An Jing turned to leave, he heard a strange sound.

It was like the sharp cry of some bird, or perhaps a human scream; it appeared for only an instant and then vanished.

"What?"

An Jing immediately turned his head, looking in the direction the sound came from.

It was the Medicine Pavilion.

"What was that sound..."

An Jing was curious and slowly approached the Medicine Pavilion.

But just at that moment, a strange voice rang out.

[Stop...]

The voice was clear and unfamiliar, seemingly that of a woman, bright and nimble like a bird's song, or like the flow of a clear spring.

But... it also sounded like something tougher, sharper.

It was like... the ringing of a sword vibrating!

The voice said solemnly, in a tone of warning: [Halt]

--Who?!

An Jing stopped abruptly. He ceased his approach toward the Medicine Pavilion, looking around in astonishment, but he found nothing.

The stars and moon shone, the moonlight like gauze, and under the night sky, everything was deathly silent. No one had been awakened, and there were no lingering echoes.

Everything seemed to be just an illusion, a momentary auditory hallucination.

Yet the command to "stop" still echoed in An Jing's mind, like the reverberations between overlapping mountain ranges, yet it remained incredibly clear, not blurring despite the echoes, only slowly fading away.

That warning-filled inner voice instantly calmed An Jing's restless mood, a sense of serenity and stillness spreading continuously, like a drop of cold rain falling from the sky, clearing everything the moment it landed on the lake of his heart, returning the rippling surface to a mirror-like calm.

--Someone is helping me?

After calming down and taking several deep breaths, An Jing stared at the Medicine Pavilion before him, realizing his own recklessness from just a moment ago.

The Medicine Pavilion was different from other places; it was always brightly lit, with hanging lanterns and numerous oil lamps illuminating it inside and out as if it were twilight.

In this situation, he would certainly be discovered the moment he approached.

...I cannot get close, but who exactly was that voice? Why would it warn me to stop?

Why would it warn me of these things?

What exactly are those masters of Xuanming Manor doing, and what are they plotting?

Slowly exhaling, An Jing suppressed the agitation and lingering fear in his heart as he pondered and turned to leave.

The current situation was clearly not suitable for further exploration, and having realized his recklessness, he understood that he needed to make more preparations.

In the end, he returned to his dormitory and lay back down on his bed.

In the silence and darkness, filled with doubt, An Jing fell asleep once again.

In his dreams, he dreamt of hunger, dreamt of wild beasts, dreamt of fangs honed to a sharp edge, dreamt of the sound of grinding teeth and roars, and dreamt of blood-drenched meat, bones, and a beating heart.

They were enduring, they were waiting.

It is not time. They whispered.

Not now. An Jing muttered in his dream.

At the very end, An Jing dreamt of a cold light.

He dreamt of a sword.