Four corpse puppets knelt in front of a young man who appeared to be the epitome of honesty, his warm demeanor a stark contrast to the eerie scene. Though the puppets bore injuries, their unsettling presence remained unshaken.

“So, you’re telling me there’s been a surge of ghosts, and even the four of you got hurt?” The young man’s voice was calm, but his eyes gleamed with curiosity. The puppets nodded in unison, their movements mechanical and lifeless.

Yanwei smiled faintly. “Interesting. These aren’t just random spirits… A ghost commander must be involved. Judging by their combat patterns, though, it’s definitely not rank 2. Something like that couldn’t possibly wipe out everyone in this secret realm.” His smile deepened as he added, “Good. At least this game is still within my control.”

His gaze briefly lingered on the puppets’ injuries. Though not severe, the damage would still diminish their effectiveness in combat.

“How about the array? Is it complete?” Yanwei asked.

The corpse puppets nodded again.

“Excellent. Return to my Growth Space for now. I’ll handle this personally. After all, it seems we have another player in this little game.”

With a wave of his hand, the puppets dissolved into tendrils of dark energy and disappeared into his body. To any outsider, the scene would have been nothing short of terrifying.

…

“What… what is going on?!” one man stammered, crouched in the shadows of the forest. His wide eyes were fixed on the distant fight, the sounds of thunderous blows echoing through the air.

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“This doesn’t make sense! Are they really rank 1s?” he muttered, his voice shaking.

“We can’t stay here! Let’s report this to Miss Yun!” hissed his companion, grabbing his sleeve. “If she finds out we waited, we’ll be dead meat!”

Without hesitation, the two men fled toward the horizon, their hurried footsteps fading into the distance.

….

Near the mouth of a dark cave, Yanwei stood face-to-face with a ghost. Its movements were unnaturally precise, each strike echoing with the strength and technique of a trained warrior.

For someone like Yanwei, whose core techniques were assassination and poison, this loud, direct fight was entirely out of character. Yet, there was a reason behind the chaos.

“The ghost isn’t natural,” Yanwei murmured, dodging a claw strike with ease. “It was made—at least partially—and retains the combat techniques of its creator. Studying its movements might just lead me to the one pulling the strings.”

A powerful kick landed on the ghost, sending it hurtling into a nearby boulder. Yanwei smiled faintly, his golden-hued body glowing faintly as he took the brunt of a retaliatory strike without flinching.

“But that’s not all,” he continued. “This is also the perfect chance to refine my body.”

The sounds of the fight grew louder as Yanwei executed one heavy, earth-shaking blow after another. His body radiated power, each strike tempered by an ancient cultivation technique, Nine Rings of Temperance.

“Body refinement is all but extinct in this era,” Yanwei muttered. “By the time the golden age begins, treasures and techniques for it will resurface, but for now, almost nothing remains. Only two body refiners in history reached rank 9 during the Withering Era. Pathetic.”

He struck again, his blows ringing out like thunder.

“This technique came from one of them. Its limitation? You have to cultivate it starting at rank 1, or it’s worthless. The idiot who traded it never imagined I’d be willing to do exactly that—start from the beginning.”

A sly smile crossed Yanwei’s lips as he delivered a bone-crushing punch, shattering the ghost’s spectral arm.

“Expensive, sure, but worth it in the long run.”

The ghost wailed in pain, its movements becoming sluggish as its core flickered. Yanwei seized the opportunity, his fists moving in a blur as he delivered the final blow.

With a shuddering cry, the ghost disintegrated into a cloud of faintly glowing dust, leaving the battlefield eerily silent.

Yanwei turned his gaze to the dark cave entrance, where the faint traces of more ghostly presences lingered.

“If there are ten rank 1 ghosts just at the entrance, there must be something worthwhile inside,” he murmured.

His smile returned, sharp and calculating, as he stepped into the cave without hesitation.