Void Cultivation

As the old man revealed a strange, knowing smile, the young cultivator stood frozen, uncertain of how to respond. The oppressive silence in the narrow tunnel was broken only by the growing sound of footsteps echoing off the stone walls. With the heavy thrum of his heartbeat pounding in his chest, the young man clenched his fist, his hand covered slick with a thin layer of scarlet, preparing himself for whatever lay ahead.

Though the Qi Accumulation Realm, also known as the Body Refining Realm, was primarily focused on enhancing physical strength, each cultivator's path differed depending on their techniques and skills. Grey, at the Ninth Level, had surpassed the usual limitations of cultivators at his stage, his strength comparable to someone of the Foundation Establishment Realm, though still inferior to those who had truly mastered that level. Still, in terms of raw power, his abilities were far superior to those of cultivators who had just broken through.

Grey was so deeply absorbed in his thoughts, consumed by his understanding of the wind element and the intricacies of his own cultivation, that he barely noticed the approach of the intruder until it was too late.

The sound of a battle cry reached his ears, accompanied by a swift, almost imperceptible whoosh.

"Hiya!" The young cultivator's fist, swathed in a scarlet glove, sliced through the air with incredible force. The punch, though fast enough to be dangerous, was a feeble attempt to strike Grey, who reacted instinctively. With a fluid, almost languid movement, Grey sidestepped the blow, the fist missing his face by mere inches.

But deep in his eyes, a faint purple glint glowed. The purple glint was fast and entered the eyes of the young man like purple threads.

The young man started to feel backwards, but before his assailant could recover, Grey had already sent out a counterattack. His palm pressed forward, and a surge of wind energy was released, forming a small cannon of compressed air that blasted into the stone tunnel. The walls trembled from the force of the impact, sending debris scattering in all directions.

The young cultivator, clearly shaken but still standing, staggered backward. His expression contorted in agony, his eyes squeezed shut as a flush spread across his face. Blood streamed from his nose and ears as an overwhelming pain coursed through his mind. The vertigo and mental anguish were far worse than the physical blow itself. The sharpness of the pain made his body feel as though it might split in two.

Grey's face remained expressionless, though his thoughts raced with a steady focus. He began to slowly form a fist, preparing to strike once again. However, just as his hand coiled into position, a flicker of yellow light caught his attention.

A network of golden threads materialized in the air before him, surrounding his body with an almost tangible pressure. These threads shimmered with an ethereal glow, each one vibrating with a suppressive aura that seemed to slow his movements. Grey's brow furrowed at the sudden appearance of the trap, but he felt no real fear.

With a single thought, he circulated his cultivation base. As the spirit energy and Cold Yin Energy erupted, the golden net quivered for a moment before it unraveled in an instant, collapsing into nothingness. Grey's expression remained unchanged as he watched the flimsy debris of the net fall to the ground before dissipating.

It was only a technique!

It was then that he noticed the source of the net's creation: an old man standing just behind the young cultivator. His eyes narrowed as he focused on the elderly figure, who looked at him with a mix of fear and confusion. The old man's face was twisted in hesitation, and his once-steady hands trembled slightly.

Grey's instincts, honed through several of cultivation and bloody battles, urged him to strike with a decisive blow. Yet, just as he moved, something in his mind clicked. He paused, recognizing the presence of a subtle change in the atmosphere. With a flick of his wrist, his fist connected with the young man instead, sending him flying several feet. The force of the blow caved in the young cultivator's chest, causing him to gasp in pain. Blood poured from his mouth as his eyes turned red, his body jerking as though something inside him had shattered.

He stumbled back, shaking, his mind rattled by the mental shock, the pain, and the overwhelming power that Grey exuded. His lips parted as he gasped in horror, the realization dawning on him.

"Ninth Level… Cultivation!"

Grey didn't waste his breath on a response. His body was already in motion, his fist blurring through the air as he directed it toward the old man.

The elder, though clearly weaker, reacted with surprising speed, attempting to block with his hands. But Grey's strength was too much. With a sound like a cracking branch, the old man was sent flying backward. His arms, still raised in defense, broke at the joints under the immense pressure. He landed heavily on the stone floor, a pained expression etched on his face as he struggled to regain his breath.

The old man's voice trembled as he managed to croak out a question, stammering in disbelief, "You… What are you doing here? H-how are you…"

Grey's eyes, cold and emotionless, bore into the old man, his face set with an expression of barely contained annoyance. Without a word, he began to move again. This time, his hand moved with such speed that it seemed as though the air itself was slicing with the force of his strike. However, before the blow could land, the old man's form began to disintegrate, his body crumbling to dust like an autumn leaf caught in a gust of wind.

Grey's fist passed through the dissipating figure, but when the dust settled, nothing remained but a small wisp of smoke. The old man had used a substitution technique,an escape method that reminded Grey of the chubby cultivator he had once fought.

But instead of a change in emotions, Grey did not seem to be bothered. He retracted his hand back.

Grey's gaze swept across the empty space where the old man had once stood. He waited for a moment, his senses heightened, but there was no sign of the elder. With a low sigh, Grey turned his attention back to the young man, who was now standing some distance away, his face pale and his eyes wide with shock.

Grey's mind raced for a moment. He had not killed the young cultivator in a single strike, which was surprising. Despite his own reservations, even at only fifty percent of his full strength, a Sixth Level cultivator should have been reduced to dust from the force of that punch. But then his gaze fell to the scarlet gloves still on his hands, and a flicker of realization washed over him.

A glimmer of understanding sparked in his mind, and with that, he decided it was no longer worth expending his energy further. With a slight flick of his fingers, he signaled his Shadow. The next moments were filled with the sound of muffled screams and the sizzling of flesh.

The entire battle had not taken more than ten breaths of time. In that short time frame, Grey had dealt with a Sixth and Ninth Level cultivators without even batting an eyelid.

Within a few short breaths, Grey was already deep within the stone tunnels once more, his footsteps steady and unhurried. His mind, however, was far from at ease. He stared down at the scarlet gloves, his thoughts in turmoil. Something about the wind... about the air, seemed different now.

'Wind?' he wondered. Unknown to him, his body had displayed some properties of being associated with the wind. In fact, the speed in which he was running was starting to become unhindered by the wind.

In fact, from the view of someone else, it looked like the wind was helping Grey mve at a greater speed. But he did not seem to notice, he just stared intently at his right hand while muttering silently.

'Wind...'

**☺️😉**