Morning came quietly.
Inside Room 53579, Fang Lin slowly opened his eyes.
For a moment, the room seemed clearer than before.
The lines of the wooden wall.
The faint dust floating in the air.
The weak vibration of the formation beneath the floor.
Everything entered his senses naturally.
Fang Lin sat still.
His soul felt deeper.
Calmer.
Stronger.
After absorbing the spirit stones last night, the grey stone had changed again. The smoky mist around it had thickened, and the strange cosmic energy it produced had refined both his body and soul.
The improvement was not explosive.
But it was real.
More importantly—
It was stable.
Fang Lin lifted his hand.
A faint layer of Qi moved across his fingers.
Then his skin shifted.
His fingers became slightly longer.
His knuckles thickened.
His aura weakened.
After a breath, he looked like someone else's hand.
Fang Lin's eyes remained calm.
"Phantom Transformation…"
The ability was not an illusion.
It changed the surface of the body itself.
Face.
Build.
Height.
Aura.
Even the rhythm of his presence.
For a cultivator, aura was often more important than appearance. Many could disguise their face, but hiding the feeling of their Qi was far harder.
Yet this skill could do both.
Fang Lin stood and walked toward the bronze mirror.
He focused.
His face slowly changed.
His jaw became sharper.
His eyes became duller.
His skin darkened slightly.
His shoulders narrowed, and his body became half an inch shorter.
Within several breaths, Fang Lin no longer looked like Fang Lin.
He looked like an ordinary outer disciple.
Unremarkable.
Weak.
Forgettable.
Fang Lin stared at the mirror quietly.
This ability was dangerous.
Not because it could kill.
But because it could let him move unseen.
He could enter places openly as Fang Lin.
And leave as someone else.
He could avoid enemies.
Investigate factions.
Travel outside the sect.
Hide when necessary.
But he also understood something clearly.
If anyone discovered this ability, the danger would be no less than revealing his soul technique.
Perhaps greater.
Fang Lin released the transformation.
His face slowly returned to normal.
He exhaled softly.
"No one can know."
After storing the remaining spirit stones carefully, Fang Lin picked up his black iron sword.
The crack across its blade had deepened.
Sun Jie's sword had almost destroyed it.
Fang Lin gently ran his finger along the crack.
"This will not last."
He needed a better weapon.
But the competition had not ended.
And until the next reward, he had to continue with what he had.
He attached the damaged sword to his waist and stepped outside.
The outer disciple residence area was already lively.
The moment Fang Lin appeared, conversations lowered.
Several disciples looked toward him with complicated expressions.
Rank 10.
That title had changed everything.
Some disciples bowed slightly.
"Senior Brother Fang."
Fang Lin paused briefly.
Then nodded.
He continued walking.
Behind him, whispers began again.
"He really entered the top ten…"
"And he is still only Middle Qi Conjunction…"
"I heard Sun Jie used Silver Thread Severance and still lost."
"Do you think he can climb higher?"
No one answered.
Because now, no one dared say his limit casually.
By the time Fang Lin reached the arena, Li Shan's group had already arrived.
Murong Yue waved immediately.
"Fang Lin! Here!"
Fang Lin walked over calmly.
The moment he sat down, Bai Qing looked at his shoulder.
"It healed quickly."
Fang Lin replied, "The medicine was good."
Bai Qing studied him for a moment.
Then smiled faintly.
"Was it only the medicine?"
Fang Lin did not answer.
Murong Yue leaned forward suspiciously.
"You feel different again."
Luo Chen laughed.
"He always feels different after one night. I have stopped asking."
Han Zhi looked at Fang Lin quietly.
"No. This time is not only body strength."
Fang Lin's eyes moved slightly.
Han Zhi continued, "Your presence is steadier."
Zhao Feng nodded.
"Your soul pressure also feels calmer."
The group became quiet.
Fang Lin looked at them.
"My cultivation improved slightly."
Murong Yue stared at him.
"Again with slightly."
Li Shan smiled faintly.
"You are becoming very good at making that word terrifying."
Fang Lin did not respond.
At that moment, the arena bell rang.
The crowd immediately quieted.
The white-robed elder stepped forward.
"Today's ranking battles will begin."
His voice spread through the arena.
"The first match…"
The floating stone board glowed.
Names slowly appeared.
"Rank 10, Fang Lin."
A wave of noise rose instantly.
Then the second name appeared.
"Rank 9, Shen Ku."
The arena became strangely silent.
Not excited.
Silent.
Fang Lin noticed the change immediately.
Murong Yue's playful expression vanished.
Luo Chen's smile faded.
Even Li Shan's eyes narrowed slightly.
Fang Lin looked toward the faction side.
A young man dressed in dark grey robes slowly stood up.
Shen Ku.
Rank 9.
He was thin, quiet, and pale.
His face looked almost ordinary, but his eyes were cold.
Not arrogant like Xu Ren.
Not calm like Sun Jie.
Cold.
Empty.
Like someone who had already decided many things did not matter.
The moment Shen Ku stood, a faint killing intent spread around him.
It was subtle.
But sharp.
Xuo Mu, who sat among the crowd, shivered unconsciously.
"That person…"
Beside him, Xue Ji's expression became serious.
"He is dangerous."
On the alliance platform, Han Zhi spoke quietly.
"Be careful."
Fang Lin looked at him.
Han Zhi continued, "Shen Ku does not fight like the others."
Li Shan nodded.
"He aims for injuries that end battles quickly."
Murong Yue's voice lowered.
"He rarely speaks. But when he fights, people get badly hurt."
Fang Lin stood calmly.
"I understand."
Bai Qing said softly, "Do not treat him like Sun Jie."
Fang Lin nodded.
Then he walked toward the stage.
Across from him, Shen Ku stepped onto the platform without a sound.
The crowd watched quietly.
The atmosphere felt different from previous battles.
Xu Ren's fight had been loud.
Sun Jie's fight had been sharp.
This one felt cold.
The referee elder looked at both of them.
"Begin."
The moment the word fell—
Shen Ku disappeared.
Fang Lin's eyes sharpened.
Fast.
But not like Sun Jie.
Sun Jie's speed was direct and precise.
Shen Ku's movement was strange.
Low.
Silent.
Angular.
He appeared near Fang Lin's left side, his hand flashing forward.
A black dagger appeared between his fingers.
It stabbed toward Fang Lin's ribs.
Fang Lin shifted.
Flowing Wind Steps.
The dagger missed.
But Shen Ku's other hand moved instantly.
A second dagger.
Toward the throat.
Fang Lin leaned back.
The blade passed before his neck, cold enough to leave a faint line of blood.
The crowd gasped.
"Two daggers!"
"He almost got him!"
Shen Ku did not stop.
His attacks came from strange angles.
Ribs.
Throat.
Lower back.
Wrist.
Eyes.
Every strike targeted a vital point.
Fang Lin retreated repeatedly.
His expression remained calm, but his eyes became colder.
Shen Ku was not trying to win beautifully.
He was trying to cripple.
Or kill, if the elder reacted too slowly.
The referee elder's gaze sharpened slightly.
Even he could feel the danger.
Shen Ku suddenly twisted his wrist.
A dagger flew out.
Fang Lin tilted his head.
The dagger passed beside his ear.
But before it left the stage, a thin black thread attached to its handle suddenly tightened.
The dagger curved back.
Toward Fang Lin's back.
Fang Lin's spiritual perception caught it instantly.
His body shifted sideways.
The returning dagger grazed his sleeve.
Rip.
The cloth tore apart.
Murong Yue stood up.
"That bastard is using hidden threads!"
Han Zhi said coldly, "It is allowed. The dagger never left his control."
On the stage, Fang Lin looked at Shen Ku.
Shen Ku finally spoke.
His voice was low.
"You react well."
Fang Lin replied calmly, "You hide well."
Shen Ku's eyes remained emotionless.
"Let us see how long."
The killing intent around him thickened.
Then he moved again.
This time, four daggers appeared.
Two in his hands.
Two connected by black threads.
The stage became filled with flashes of dark light.
Fang Lin's perception expanded.
Every dagger.
Every thread.
Every slight movement of Shen Ku's fingers.
Everything became clear.
But clarity did not make the danger disappear.
The attacks were too strange.
Too flexible.
Too vicious.
Several cuts appeared on Fang Lin's robe.
One across his arm.
One near his waist.
One on his cheek.
None were deep.
But all were precise.
The crowd became tense.
"Fang Lin is being suppressed…"
"Shen Ku's attacks are too hard to predict."
"He is forcing Fang Lin into defense."
On the faction side, Xu Ren smiled coldly.
"Good."
Chen Hao remained silent.
But his eyes stayed fixed on Fang Lin.
He wanted to see.
Would Fang Lin reveal another card?
On the stage, Fang Lin continued dodging.
Then suddenly—
He stopped.
Shen Ku's eyes narrowed.
A dagger shot toward Fang Lin's throat.
Fang Lin raised his hand.
Not his sword.
His bare hand.
A faint grey glow appeared beneath his skin.
Nine Nether Phantom Body.
Clang!
His fingers struck the flat side of the dagger.
The blade was knocked aside.
At the same time, Fang Lin stepped forward.
Shen Ku immediately pulled the thread.
The second dagger curved toward Fang Lin's back.
But Fang Lin's footwork changed.
He shifted half a step.
The dagger missed.
His palm gathered wind.
Wind Break Palm.
Shen Ku's expression changed faintly.
He retreated instantly.
Boom!
The compressed force exploded across the stage.
Shen Ku avoided the direct strike, but the shockwave still forced him backward.
His robes fluttered violently.
For the first time, his breathing changed.
Fang Lin looked at him calmly.
"You rely too much on hidden angles."
Shen Ku's eyes turned colder.
"And you rely too much on reaction."
Fang Lin nodded.
"That is true."
Then he moved.
Flowing Wind Steps.
His figure blurred forward.
Shen Ku threw two daggers immediately.
The black threads spread like a net.
Fang Lin's eyes sharpened.
If he moved normally, he would be caught.
If he retreated, Shen Ku would regain rhythm.
So Fang Lin did neither.
His body suddenly shrank slightly.
Only a little.
His shoulder line changed.
His posture narrowed.
The transformation lasted less than a breath.
Phantom Transformation.
No one noticed clearly.
Not the crowd.
Not the elders.
Even Shen Ku only felt something strange.
The dagger meant to cut Fang Lin's shoulder passed through empty air by a hair's breadth.
Shen Ku's pupils contracted.
"What?"
Fang Lin had already entered his range.
His palm struck.
Boom!
Wind Break Palm landed against Shen Ku's chest.
Shen Ku crossed both arms to block, but the impact still blasted him backward.
He slid across the stage, feet carving two long marks into the stone.
The arena erupted.
"He hit him!"
"Shen Ku was forced back!"
Li Shan's eyes narrowed slightly.
For some reason, that dodge had felt strange.
Not like Flowing Wind Steps.
Not like body cultivation.
Something else.
But he could not tell what.
Fang Lin stood calmly, his aura unchanged.
Inside, however, he had already confirmed something.
Phantom Transformation could be used in battle.
Only for an instant.
Only subtly.
But enough to change the result of an attack.
Fang Lin's eyes deepened.
This skill was even more useful than he expected.
Across from him, Shen Ku slowly lowered his arms.
His sleeves were torn.
A trace of blood flowed from the corner of his mouth.
But his eyes remained cold.
Then—
He smiled.
It was faint.
Almost invisible.
But it made the atmosphere colder.
"You are harder to kill than expected."
The crowd fell silent.
The referee elder frowned.
"Shen Ku."
His warning carried pressure.
Shen Ku did not look at him.
He only stared at Fang Lin.
"Then I will stop holding back."
A dark Qi slowly rose from his body.
The killing intent became heavier.
Fang Lin's expression remained calm.
But his spiritual sea stirred.
The grey stone pulsed softly.
His soul power moved quietly, waiting.
He could end this quickly.
A single soul strike.
A moment of disruption.
But he suppressed it again.
Not here.
Not yet.
Fang Lin slowly raised his palm.
Wind gathered.
His body grew heavier.
The Nine Nether Phantom Body circulated silently beneath his skin.
Opposite him, Shen Ku's daggers rose again.
Four dark blades.
Four black threads.
A cold killing intent.
The crowd held its breath.
This battle—
Had only just begun.