The wind on Mistjaw Ridge always tasted of metal—sharp, dry, and bitter, like old blood scraped off a dull blade.
As Yun Mu stepped into the outer disciple region for the first time, that metallic tang clung to his throat. His black robes—still servant-stitched and unadorned—fluttered like funeral cloth in the wind.
All around him, the new outer disciples were celebrating. Some laughed as they claimed housing keys, others exchanged spirit stones in loud wagers. The ambitious already whispered of factions. Alliances formed in hours. Friendships and rivalries bloomed in the same breath.
Yun Mu ignored all of it.
A jade token was shoved into his hand by a clerk who didn't bother looking up.
"House 93," the man said. "Southmost cliff row. Try not to die before morning."
No courtesy.
No instructions.
No guards.
Just House 93.
---
He found it clinging to the very edge of the ridge—half-buried in weeds, with vines strangling the outer gate. The walls were cracked. The spirit-gathering array etched into the stone foundation hadn't been repaired in years.
It wasn't a house.
It was a grave.
Perfect.
He stepped inside, sat cross-legged on the dusty floor, and peeled the cloth away from his torso. Beneath, the Bone Sigils pulsed faintly. The Hollow Seed shimmered at his core like a black lotus made of shadowed blades.
Three blades were now complete. The third, newly formed, curved inward like a sickle—jagged at the edge, beautiful in its threat.
The Hollow Path had spoken.
It was time to break his core.
---
For a normal cultivator, the dantian was sacred. The birthplace of all growth. The spiritual womb.
But to walk the Hollow Path, the dantian had to be destroyed.
Yun Mu summoned a thread of Hollow Qi. He guided it to his spiritual center—and struck.
A scream tore through his body.
Every nerve ignited.
His spiritual channels spasmed. Qi flow collapsed.
> [Warning: Dantian Collapse Detected.]
[Qi turbulence: 91%. Mortality Risk: Extreme.]
He vomited blood. His spine arched off the ground. Bone cracked under his own weight.
Still—he endured.
He had known worse.
Worse than this fire.
Worse than this collapse.
Worse than death.
He forced breath into his lungs and pressed two fingers to his wrist, triggering the Bone Sigil of Calm Pulse. It slowed his heart. Stabilized the collapse. Allowed his mind to focus—not on survival, but on breaking completely.
The Hollow Seed expanded.
Black petals unfolded in his spirit sea.
And at last, the system spoke:
> [Inversion Meridians Established.]
Your qi now flows opposite to natural direction. Dantian sealed. Hollow Seed dominant.
Trait Gained: Void-Breath Cycle – You now passively draw in the dying traces of spiritual life around you.
---
It was done.
Yun Mu collapsed, gasping on the floor, barely alive.
Yet he had never felt more awake.
---
The next morning came with cold mist.
He was kneeling in meditation when the knock came.
Not a hard knock.
Not a respectful one.
Just… a sound to break stillness.
He stood slowly, wrapped his robe tight, and opened the door.
A young man stood on the other side—tall, dark-haired, face unassuming. His eyes, though, were sharp with observation.
"Yun Mu," he said with a nod. "I'm Li Shen. I serve under Senior Brother Lin Yu."
Yun Mu said nothing.
Li Shen didn't seem bothered. He walked casually into the room, examined the broken formation lines on the floor, and tsked.
"No gathering array. No defensive glyphs. Barely a roof. They really gave you nothing."
Yun Mu raised an eyebrow.
Li Shen smiled. "Don't worry, I'm not here to fight."
He sat on the cracked ledge of the window.
"Lin Yu is many things. Proud. Powerful. But not unreasonable. He wants to give you a choice. Three, to be exact."
He ticked them off on his fingers.
"One: You apologize. Join his faction. Serve loyally. He offers protection and resources."
"Two: You stay neutral. No alliances. You get no help, but he won't touch you. Unless you rise too fast."
"Three: You keep acting bold. And we treat you like a threat. And threats don't live long in Ironcloud."
Silence.
Li Shen waited for a response.
Yun Mu stepped forward.
Pulled his sleeve back.
Revealed the spiraling Bone Sigils down his forearm.
Li Shen raised one brow.
Yun Mu spoke calmly.
"There's a fourth option."
Li Shen's voice sharpened. "Oh?"
"I send you back to him in pieces."
That smile dropped just a bit.
But Li Shen—clever, dangerous, and not easily shaken—regained it quickly.
He stood.
Brushed imaginary dust from his sleeve.
"No wonder they've marked your name," he said softly.
"They?"
"You'll see."
And he left without another word.
---
That evening, Yun Mu's door bore a scroll.
Challenge scroll.
Official.
Lin Yu had invoked the Ancient Right of Outer Combat—an unbreakable duel.
Two days from now.
On the highest outer disciple platform.
A public fight.
With elders watching.
With rules that forbade interference.
Win… or fall.
---
Yun Mu didn't react.
He stepped back inside.
Lit a black candle.
Placed his palm over the jade slab.
And watched as ancient script burned onto its surface.
> The Hollow does not forge blades.
It breaks what was whole.
And reforges what should not exist.
He smiled faintly.
Then reached into the pouch on his waist.
And pulled out three shards: the broken talisman from his first kill, the tooth of the spirit weasel he crushed in the free-for-all, and a scrap of Lian Xue's vine.
He placed them on the floor.
And began to bind them with Hollow Qi.
Piece by piece.
Scar by scar.
He would not wield a sword like the others.
He would wield a remnant—a weapon made not from metal, but from things left behind.
A weapon born of brokenness.
---
Two nights later, when he walked onto the platform…
The clouds above churned with unnatural winds.
And the Bone Sigils on his arms shimmered like living scars.
---