Night blanketed Pyradine City, smothering the frantic energy of the day. The bustling main streets fell quiet, lanterns flickered in the damp breeze, and shadows stretched like ink across the empty alleys. Most shops had long since bolted their doors, their owners surrendering to sleep.
But in the West District, one place remained stubbornly awake.
Inside the Origins Dungeon Hall, a different kind of battle was raging. The air was unnaturally still, yet it felt heavy, charged with a tension that stirred beneath the calm like a predator in deep water.
Yuan Bi sat upon one of the black seats. He was motionless, his face obscured by the dark, pulsing helm. To any casual observer, he looked no different from the desperate cultivators who frequented his shop—just another man seeking strength in a world of ghosts.
But tonight, people were watching.
A small crowd had gathered near the entrance. They weren't noisy or chaotic; they were eerily still, their eyes fixed on the man behind the counter.
"Is that the owner?" someone whispered.
"Why is he entering himself? I thought he only sold the experience."
A middle-aged cultivator in travel-worn robes narrowed his eyes. "Testing his own inheritance? Or perhaps..." He trailed off, his gaze sharpening. "Demonstrating confidence."
Min Luan stood by the door, arms crossed tightly over his chest. "He finally went in," he muttered. "Now we'll see if he's a master or just a lucky vulture."
Nearby, Wu Feng—the young master of the Lin family—stood with a stiff, frozen expression. He had returned despite the humiliation of the previous day. His gaze was locked onto Yuan Bi, his jaw tight. "Let me see," he murmured, "what you really are."
Inside the hall, no one spoke. Every eye turned toward the faint, shimmering distortion hovering above Yuan Bi's seat.
Inside the Trial
Darkness. Then, the world reconstructed itself.
The mansion. It was a monument to decay—rotting timber, bloodstained corridors, and a silence so thick it felt like physical pressure. Yuan Bi stood in the center of a hallway, his expression terrifyingly calm.
"…Too slow."
A corpse collapsed at his feet, its skull crushed by a single, economical strike. Its body twitched once before going still. Around Yuan Bi, several more lay scattered like broken dolls—destroyed with a clinical efficiency that made the spectators outside shiver.
There was no hesitation. No wasted movement. Each strike was clean, precise, and final. As each creature fell, a faint warmth spread through Yuan Bi's body—subtle, steady, and nourishing.
Outside, the murmurs began to grow. "He's already cleared the hallway."
"So fast? That shouldn't be possible for someone with his cultivation base."
Wu Feng's pupils shrank. "He's different. He isn't fighting them. He's... dismantling them."
Yuan Bi moved forward, his steps light and controlled. Another corpse wandered into view, dragging its feet, oblivious. Yuan Bi didn't rush. He circled it, his eyes tracking every twitch of its rotting muscles.
"…Slow reaction. Limited perception. Relies entirely on instinct."
The corpse turned—too late. Slash. Yuan Bi's dagger pierced the temple. He didn't pull back; he twisted the blade, driving it deeper to crush the brain completely. The creature dropped instantly.
"…Confirmed."
The middle-aged cultivator outside exhaled slowly. "He's studying them. He isn't just killing—he's performing an analysis. He's treating this like a lethal laboratory."
Then, the air in the hall changed.
Inside the dungeon, a new sound echoed. It wasn't the dragging of feet or the mindless moaning of the dead. It was sharp. Fast. Predatory.
Yuan Bi stopped. "…Something new."
Outside, the projection flickered and distorted, reflecting the sudden surge of killing intent within the trial. The crowd inhaled sharply.
"Why does it feel different?"
"That presence... it's malicious."
From the darkness, it emerged.
It was tall and lean, with muscles coiled like steel springs beneath hardened, obsidian scales. Its limbs were elongated, ending in claws curved like forged scimitars. It lifted its head, revealing a maw filled with needle-teeth and eyes that were cold, focused, and—frighteningly—alive.
A low growl vibrated through the corridor.
Min Luan's face went pale. "I never saw that thing. It's a monster."
The creature moved. It didn't run; it vanished into a blur of motion.
CLANG!
Yuan Bi raised his dagger just in time. The impact was massive, sending him sliding backward, his boots carving furrows in the rotted floorboards. His arms trembled from the sheer force.
"…Fast."
Before he could recover, the creature was there again. Claws slashed downward in a shimmering arc. Yuan Bi rolled aside, the ground cracking violently where he had stood a millisecond before.
"He almost died," someone whispered hoarsely.
Yuan Bi didn't panic. He retreated, his mind whirring with calculations. Speed exceeds mine. Strength superior. Direct confrontation is a death sentence.
He exhaled, and to the shock of everyone watching, a faint smile appeared on his lips. "…Good."
He turned and ran.
The creature gave chase instantly, a relentless shadow. But Yuan Bi wasn't fleeing blindly. He was navigating. He led the monster through a series of sharp turns, memorizing the narrow paths, until he reached a tight, constricted corridor.
He stopped. He turned. He waited.
The creature lunged, its momentum too great to check in the narrow space. At the last possible moment, Yuan Bi stepped into the wall's shadow. The creature slammed into the stone with a deafening crack.
That split-second of disorientation was all Yuan Bi needed. He struck. His dagger hit the creature's neck—and bounced off the scales with a spark.
"…Too hard."
The monster roared, its claws lashing out in a blind frenzy. A shallow wound opened across Yuan Bi's chest, shredding his tunic and drawing blood. Outside, several people flinched instinctively, feeling the phantom sting.
Yuan Bi's eyes sharpened to pinpoints. "…Not the surface. Internal."
The creature charged again, maw open in a silent scream of rage. This time, Yuan Bi didn't retreat. He stepped forward, leaning into the danger. As the claws passed over his head, he dropped low and thrust upward with every ounce of strength he possessed.
The dagger sank deep into the creature's open mouth.
"…Now."
He drove the blade upward, leaning his entire body weight into the hilt. CRACK. The steel pierced through the roof of the mouth and into the brain. The creature froze, its body trembling violently before collapsing into a heap of dead scales.
Silence fell over the Origins Dungeon Hall.
Yuan Bi stood over the corpse, his breathing slow and controlled. A powerful surge of energy—far more intense than anything he had felt before—flooded his meridians. It was sharp. It was refined.
Outside, the crowd erupted. "He killed it! He actually killed that monster!"
"Did you see that? He adapted. He learned faster than the trial could kill him."
Inside the trial, Yuan Bi looked down at the dead hunter. The corpses before were nothing—mere obstacles. This, however, was a test. A real opponent. He wiped the blood from his dagger and turned toward the deeper shadows of the mansion. He wasn't walking like prey anymore. He was walking like a man who owned the darkness.
The Return
The red light of the projection faded. Yuan Bi slowly removed the helm.
The shop was dead silent. Dozens of eyes stared at him, filled with a new, heavy respect. No one laughed. No one mocked the "broken" shopkeeper. They had seen the control. The calculated lethality.
Min Luan swallowed hard. "…You… you killed that thing."
Wu Feng stared at him, his jaw tight, his arrogance completely shattered. "You've done this before. No one fights like that for the first time."
Yuan Bi glanced at them briefly, his expression unbothered. He flexed his fingers, feeling the lingering effects of the trial. His body felt sharper, his senses more refined. Even outside the dungeon, the growth remained.
He leaned back into his chair, the lazy shopkeeper persona returning like a well-worn cloak.
End of Chapter 4