The ascent from the cavern was a bitch. Sun, still nursing the dregs of his divine pride and a body that felt like it had been used for pugilism practice by a particularly enthusiastic mountain troll, found the climb out of the narrow chasm far less dramatic than his fall into it. There were no thrilling plunges, just scraped knuckles, strained muscles, and a steady stream of inventive curses muttered into the stale air. The tiny, refined sparks of Ki cultivated through his newfound "Echo Resonance" did little to alleviate the physical toil, but they lent a clarity to his senses, a sharper edge to his awareness that was new. He could feel the thin, listless Ki of the outside world pressing in as he neared the surface, a stark contrast to the deeper, subtler Song of Shattered Will he'd tapped into below.
"Right," he grunted, hauling himself over the final lip of the chasm and blinking against the grey, overcast sky. "Back into the gods-damned frying pan."
He stood on a rocky outcrop overlooking a sparse, scrubby forest. The air was cooler here, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine. The silence was different too, not the predatory hush of the wasteland, nor the profound stillness of the cavern, but a silence filled with the distant chirps of birds and the rustle of unseen creatures. Civilisation, or whatever passed for it in this broken era, couldn't be too far.
He needed supplies. Food, water, information. And maybe, just maybe, a less irritating rock to help him tune into the Unmaker's lingering symphony. He picked a direction that seemed to lead downhill, figuring that water, and therefore people, tended to collect in low-lying areas. His tattered clothing, a relic of his initial, rude awakening, offered little protection against the chill.
After a few hours of weary trekking, the trees thinned, and he heard it – the distinct, rhythmic thwack of wood on wood, accompanied by sharp, grunted exhales. Training. Just as the Echoes had whispered.
He moved with newfound caution, his refined Ki allowing him to tread lighter than his previous, cloddish self. Peering through a curtain of dense foliage, he saw a clearing. About a dozen figures, clad in uniforms of striking jade green silk, were moving through intricate martial forms. Their movements were sharp, disciplined, their faces grim with concentration. They looked young, mostly in their late teens or early twenties. A few older individuals, their green robes adorned with silver piping, barked instructions.
"The Jade Serpent Sect," Sun mused, recognizing the name from the whispers on the Ki-currents. "Pompous name for a bunch of angry grasshoppers."
His gaze drifted to one figure in particular. A young woman, perhaps eighteen, stood slightly apart from the main group, her movements possessing a fluidity and precision that outshone the others. Her jade robes were of a finer cut, embroidered with subtle silver serpent motifs along the cuffs and collar. Her expression was one of intense focus, but also an undercurrent of haughty confidence. Her Ki, though still thin by Sun's ancient standards, was noticeably more potent and controlled than her peers. A "genius," no doubt, the kind these little sects loved to crow about.
Sun watched for a while, a familiar smirk playing on his lips. Their techniques were… okay. Serviceable, for mortals scrounging for power in a depleted world. They emphasized quick strikes, evasive footwork, and the conservation of their meager Ki, channeling it into sharp, serpent-like thrusts. Predictable.
He was hungry. And these silk-clad ants probably had food. An idea, malicious and pragmatic, began to form.
He stepped out from the trees, deliberately making enough noise to draw their attention. Not a lot, just the crunch of a dry twig underfoot.
Instantly, a dozen pairs of eyes snapped towards him. Weapons – slim swords, daggers, even a few short spears – were drawn, the scrape of steel a harsh counterpoint to the previous rhythm of training.
"Well, well," Sun said, his voice a lazy drawl, loud enough to carry across the clearing. He let his gaze sweep over them, deliberately insolent. "Look what crawled out from under a rock. Bit early for the local mummers' troupe to be rehearsing, isn't it?"
The older instructors bristled. One, a man with a face like a clenched fist and a scar bisecting his eyebrow, stepped forward. "Who are you, vagrant? This is training ground of the Jade Serpent Sect! State your business, or face the consequences!"
"Consequences?" Sun chuckled, a dry, rasping sound. "Ooh, scary. Last time someone threatened me with consequences, I think I turned their liver into a hat stand. But that was a long time ago. My business? I'm thirsty. And hungry. And you lot look like you're hoarding snacks."
The "genius" girl stepped forward, her eyes narrowed, her hand resting on the hilt of a beautifully crafted Jian. "You dare address the Jade Serpent Sect with such disrespect? You are filthy, and clearly uncultured. Begone, before we are forced to teach you a lesson in manners." Her voice was clear, carrying an imperious edge.
Sun grinned, a flash of white teeth in his grimy face. "Uncultured? Honey, I was culturing things when your ancestors were still trying to figure out which end of a pointy stick to use. And as for filthy," he sniffed his armpit theatrically, "eau de existential despair, with a hint of near-death experience. It's the new fragrance."
The girl's face tightened. "You mock us? You mock the Jade Serpent!"
"Is that what I'm doing?" Sun feigned surprise. "I thought I was just making small talk with a bunch of overdressed reptiles. My mistake."
This was too much for the scarred instructor. "Enough! Seize him!"
Two of the younger disciples, eager to impress, lunged forward, their swords flashing. Sun didn't move from his spot. He just watched them come, that infuriating smirk still in place. As the first swordpoint neared his throat, he did something unexpected.
He burped. Loudly. And with astonishingly poor timing, he slightly shifted his weight, almost as if stumbling.
The lead disciple, caught off guard by the sheer, uncouth audacity of the act, hesitated for a fraction of a second. His precise, well-practiced lunge faltered, the angle shifting by a hair's breadth. The second disciple, following close behind, found his trajectory suddenly blocked by his companion's momentary awkwardness.
In that infinitesimal window of confusion, Sun moved. Not with overwhelming speed – he didn't have it. But with an economy of motion born of eons of conflict. He didn't even use his hands initially. He simply stepped into the first disciple's compromised stance, his shoulder bumping the boy's sword arm just so, redirecting the blade harmlessly past his ear. Simultaneously, his foot hooked behind the disciple's ankle. A gentle, almost lazy-looking tug, and the boy yelped, windmilling backward into his companion.
Both disciples went down in a tangle of jade silk and surprised yelps. It wasn't a powerful takedown. It was just… perfectly timed, exploiting their textbook momentum and their momentary lapse in focus with embarrassing ease.
The "genius" girl's eyes widened almost imperceptibly. That hadn't been a display of Ki prowess. It had been… messy. Unorthodox. And bafflingly effective.
"Clumsy, clumsy," Sun tutted, shaking his head. "You need to watch where you're flailing those toothpicks."
The scarred instructor roared and drew his own blade, a heavier, broader sword. "Insolent cur!"
But before he could charge, the "genius" girl held up a hand, her expression now a mixture of fury and grudging calculation. "Wait, Elder Fei. This… this vagrant is unconventional. Let me test his mettle." She stepped forward, her jian now fully drawn, its polished surface reflecting the grim light. "You seem to possess some base cunning, street rat. But cunning alone will not save you from the techniques of the Jade Serpent."
"Ooh, techniques," Sun drawled. "Are we going to compare calligraphy next? I assure you, mine is atrocious." He idly scratched his ribs, looking utterly unimpressed. He could feel the faint thrum of his refined Ki, a cool, stable core within him. He wasn't going to unleash it in some flashy display. He was going to use it subtly.
The girl, whose name was probably something elegant like Mei or Ling, but whom Sun mentally dubbed "Jade Locks" due to her severe hairstyle, didn't wait. She attacked. Her form was flawless, a textbook example of the Jade Serpent's opening gambit – the "Coiling Strike." Her blade flickered like a serpent's tongue, aiming for three vital points simultaneously. Fast, precise, economical.
Sun just… stepped to the side. Barely. It looked less like a martial evasion and more like he was casually avoiding a puddle. The three strikes hissed through empty air.
Jade Locks frowned. Her movements were swift, a continuous flow. She pressed the attack, a series of feints and thrusts designed to overwhelm and create an opening.
And Sun… continued to just not be there. He didn't block. He didn't parry in any conventional sense. He moved in small, almost lazy-looking adjustments, shifting his weight, taking half-steps, sometimes even just swaying slightly. Each of her perfectly executed attacks missed by an inch, sometimes less. It was infuriating. It was like trying to stab smoke. Her elegant, flowing form, designed for grace and deadly efficiency, was made to look… clumsy. Wasteful.
"Are you… are you even trying?" Jade Locks hissed, her composure starting to fray. Sweat beaded on her brow. This was humiliating. She was a prodigy, capable of besting senior disciples! This… this thing was making her look like a rank novice.
"Trying to what?" Sun asked innocently, subtly angling his body so her next thrust would force her slightly off-balance if she committed fully. "Get skewered? No thanks, had a bad experience with sharp, pointy things recently. Ruined my whole afternoon." He wasn't using superior speed. He was using superior understanding. His Echo Resonance Ki, though small, resonated with the very fabric of movement, of balance and intent. He could feel the subtle shifts in her weight, the telegraphing of her intentions, the minute imperfections in her "flawless" technique, all with a clarity that was alien to these Ki-starved ants. He wasn't just dodging her blade; he was dancing with the echoes of her intent.
She overcommitted, just as he'd guided her to. Her "Viper's Kiss" thrust went wide, pulling her forward. Before she could recover, Sun's hand shot out – not in a strike, but with his palm open. He didn't hit her. He simply placed his palm lightly on her outstretched sword arm, near the elbow.
And then, a tiny, almost imperceptible pulse of his refined Ki – the Echo Resonance Ki – flowed from his palm. It wasn't a blast. It was a… dissonant note. A subtle disruption to the flow of her own Ki within her arm.
Jade Locks gasped. Her arm, poised for another strike, suddenly felt… wrong. Numb. Uncoordinated. Like the connection between her brain and her limb had been briefly scrambled. Her sword, a cherished gift from her master, clattered from her nerveless fingers and skittered across the dirt.
She stared at her hand, then at Sun, her face a mask of disbelief and dawning horror. What had he done? There was no surge of Ki, no obvious technique. He'd just… touched her.
Sun picked up her fallen sword, examined it critically. "Nice craftsmanship. Bit light for my taste. Probably snaps if you try to pry open a stubborn clam with it." He then casually tossed it point-first into the soft earth a few feet away. "There you go. Don't want you hurting yourself."
The clearing was silent. The other disciples, the instructors, even Elder Fei, stood frozen, staring. They had seen their star pupil, the pride of their generation, disarmed and utterly baffled by a filthy vagrant who hadn't even appeared to break a sweat. He hadn't beaten her with superior strength or technique in the way they understood it. He had… out-thought her? Out-maneuvered her on a level they couldn't comprehend? It was deeply unsettling.
Sun stretched, yawning. "Well, that was… mildly diverting. Now, about those snacks. Or do I have to demonstrate advanced clam-opening techniques on your Elder there?" He gestured vaguely towards Elder Fei with a grubby thumb.
Elder Fei's face was puce. This was an unprecedented humiliation for the Jade Serpent Sect. But he was no fool. The vagrant was… strange. Dangerously strange. The way he moved, the way he'd disarmed Lin Fengyi – for that was Jade Locks' name – it defied conventional martial wisdom.
A commotion at the edge of the clearing drew everyone's attention. A senior disciple, breathless, stumbled into view. "Elder Fei! Urgent news! Elder Xiao from the Crimson Thunder Dojang has been monitoring the northern ridge… he reports a… a disturbance! An unusual Ki signature, unlike anything he's ever sensed. Faint, but… deeply unsettling."
Elder Fei's eyes narrowed, flicking from the messenger to Sun, then back. An unfamiliar Ki signature? Could this… filth be connected?
Far away, on a windswept mountain peak cloaked in perpetual storm clouds, a solitary figure sat in a dark, spartan chamber. The air crackled with barely suppressed power. The figure, shrouded in shadows, slowly opened eyes that glowed with an unnatural crimson light. A thin, cruel smile touched its lips.
"So," a voice like rustling graves whispered into the storm-lashed silence. "Something ancient, and deliciously… broken… has stirred from its long slumber. The old songs begin anew. Interesting."
Back in the clearing, Sun, oblivious to distant observations, just sighed. "Disturbances, unusual Ki. Sounds like a Tuesday. Seriously, folks. Food. Or I start telling stories about my divine indigestion. And trust me, nobody wants that." He knew, with a sinking feeling, that his Echo Resonance, even in its nascent stage, wasn't going to stay unnoticed for long in a world starving for power. These ants might be playing in cosmic ashes, but some of them had very sharp senses. The long, arduous road had just begun, and it was already promising to be a monumental pain in the arse.