Standing atop the scorched ruins, the Messenger issued a command in a voice so piercing it seemed to shift the very direction of the winds. Harnessing his primordial strength, he dispatched a Spiritual Message to every sect within his alliance.
"Hear me! Holy Sword Sect, Cloud Mist Sect, and Iron Fist Sect! Fan out your swiftest and most elite cultivators to every corner of this empire. We hunt a shadow that is far from ordinary. He is the vessel of the Heavenly Demon's energy. He is reviving! Bring me any suspicious soul—be it a child or the elderly—dead or alive. He who finds him shall be rewarded by the Heavens themselves; he who hides him shall have his entire lineage erased from existence!"
The moment the message arrived, chaos erupted across the empire. Battalions of cultivators took to the skies on flying weapons and spirit beasts, darkening the horizon. In marketplaces, dense forests, and mountain caves, only one question echoed: "Is that dark era returning?"
Elders of the great sects abandoned their secluded meditation chambers. For them, this wasn't just a mission—it was a battle for survival. An army of thousands set out to hunt a 'shadow' they had yet to even lay eyes upon.
Meanwhile, in a quiet hut cradled by distant mountains, the first ray of sunlight knocked on the door. Leehan opened his eyes. For the first time in years, he didn't feel as though a heavy boulder was crushing his skull. The pill had completely dissolved within him, silencing every resonance of his former existence.
He stepped outside to find Hao Chen already tending to the fields. Hao Lin was in the kitchen, grinding fresh herbs. Leehan approached them slowly and spoke, "I... I want to help. Tell me what to do."
Hao Lin looked him up and down, teasing him with a smirk. "Look at you, ready to work! Fine, go water those plants. But be careful—if you break even a single leaf, you're in trouble!"
Leehan silently picked up a water pot. As he walked toward the fields, he spotted shimmering streaks in the distant sky. They were cultivators, streaking northward at incredible speeds. Leehan froze for a heartbeat. His pulse quickened—Are they looking for me?
But then, he felt the power of the pill. The cultivators soared directly over his head, yet not one of them glanced down. To them, he was merely an ordinary farm boy watering plants. A faint, relieved smile touched Leehan's lips. He was now 'Nobody' to the rest of the world, and that was his greatest strength.
By late afternoon, the Messenger returned to the spot where the drop of blood had fallen. Five different Sect Masters had gathered there, their faces drenched in sweat and eyes clouded with fear.
"Any lead?" the Messenger thundered.
"No, Your Excellency," one Master replied, bowing his head. "We have scrutinized every living thing within a hundred-mile radius, but that terrifying aura has vanished. It is as if he dissolved into thin air."
The Messenger's eyes turned crimson with rage. "He hasn't dissolved! He is hiding. My suspicion is turning into a conviction—he has surely taken a weak vessel. Body Possession! He is inside a body with cultivation so pathetic that we are overlooking him. He is among us, gathering his strength."
He slammed his hand onto a map, pointing toward a small cluster of villages hidden behind the ridges. "Start the search here. Scour every house, every hut. If that demon revives, the sun will not rise tomorrow. We must find him before he fully 'awakens'."
The Messenger's madness was reaching its peak. He had no idea that the one he hunted had just finished his first meal in peace. The hunter was ready, the trap was set, but the prey had already forged a new identity, far beyond the reach of the net.
Before the morning dew could slip from the leaves, Leehan stood in the middle of the field. Holding an old earthen pot, he carefully poured water at the roots of each spiritual herb. To him, this wasn't mere labor; it was a form of worship. Where he had spent twelve years of his life, there was nothing but blood and dust. Here, the scent of the earth reassured him that he was truly alive.
Suddenly, Hao Chen's heavy yet gentle voice drifted from behind.
"Child! Working already? I told you, you need rest." Hao Chen approached and tried to take the pot from Leehan's hand. "You haven't even been awake for a full day. Your body still carries the weight of old wounds. Let us handle this."
Leehan gripped the pot firmly and said with a soft smile, "Grandfather, truth be told, this work doesn't tire me—it gives me peace. After all these years, my hands hold water instead of chains. It feels good."
Hao Chen looked into his eyes and realized that for this boy, sitting idle would only invite his demons back. He laughed and said, "Fine, but don't overdo it. And don't listen to everything Hao Lin says. She's a mischievous one—she probably put you to work so she could go off and chase butterflies."
Just then, Hao Lin came running from the distance, clutching fresh herbs. "Grandfather! I wasn't chasing butterflies, I was gathering ingredients for lunch!" she pouted before turning to Leehan.
As the sun climbed higher, the three of them walked toward the village's main road. Villagers passed by; some bowed to Hao Chen, others smiled at Hao Lin. For Leehan, this was a foreign world. People weren't screaming at each other, nor was anyone being struck. Everything was simple and content.
Driven by curiosity, Hao Lin placed a hand on Leehan's shoulder. "So Leehan, we never asked... how old are you? You look quite young."
Leehan hesitated, calculating the years in his head. "Perhaps... I am 22," he said softly. "I was ten when I was taken as a slave. I spent twelve years in the dark rooms of the Blood-Refining Sect. So yes, by my count, I am 22."
Hao Lin's eyes lit up. "Oh! So you're only two years older than me? I thought you'd be much older!" Then, she leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Since you spent so many years in a cultivation sect... do you know any secret techniques? Did you learn any magic spells or how to fight? You must have seen something there, right?"
At her question, Leehan's footsteps froze. Memories of screams, black energy, and the ghoulish faces of the Elders flooded his mind. He remembered how they refined the blood of the innocent to extend their own lives.
"Techniques?" Leehan's voice was laced with bitterness. "There was no 'learning' there, Hao Lin. There was only 'enduring.' I have seen horrific things. They refined human blood for longevity. I have watched people turn to ash with my own eyes."
Hao Lin's excitement dampened as she realized she had touched a raw nerve. But her curiosity wasn't entirely dead. "I meant... did you never try to steal their power? Or find a way to fight back?"
Leehan lowered his head. "I was just a slave. To me, 'power' only meant receiving fewer lashes that day. I never thought about cultivation. For me, simply staying alive was the ultimate victory."
Hao Chen stepped in to ease the tension. "Lin! Don't pester him. Not every memory is a happy one. Come, the village is in a festive mood today, we should be happy."
In the village market, the presence of cultivators was growing. Strangers in expensive silk robes with glowing swords were interrogating the locals. They were the spies sent by the Messenger.
A cultivator brushed past Leehan. His 'Divine Sense' scanned the boy. But the Great Pill crafted by Hao Lin had worked its magic. The cultivator sensed not a single spark of energy within Leehan. To him, Leehan was just a malnourished, ordinary village lad.
The cultivator turned to his companion. "Nothing here. Just weak peasants. Let's move on—the Heavenly Demon's fragment would never hide here. He would need a high-level host to survive."
Leehan breathed a silent sigh of relief. He had been inches from death, yet he remained 'invisible.' He finally understood the staggering price—and the beauty—of this peace.