“Huff... Huff... Congratulations, Young Master... huff... I believe this was... huff... a complete success.” Jia’s voice trembled between ragged breaths. Sweat drenched her robes; her Qi was almost spent. Ru silently pressed two Earth Spirit Stones into her hands and offered a bowl of water.
Ippo fetched Ao’s old clothes and handed them to Daemon, who only looked at Jia for a moment before whispering a single word: “Thanks.” Then he turned away, letting Ru and Ippo help him squeeze his lean frame into clothes three sizes too big.
Jia drained the bowl, then closed her eyes, pressing a Spirit Stone into each palm. Her heart fluttered — that look her Young Master gave her lingered like a warm flame inside. For the first time, she felt she’d truly touched something in him. Something real.
Status.
Daemon called the screen, watching lines of cold text unfold.
[Da Niu: Tier-0]
[Race: Human (Adolescent)]
[Faction: None]
[Lumberjack/Scavenger]
[Strength: 2.5]
[Agility: 2.2]
[Vitality: 2.4]
[Endurance: 3.3]
[Intelligence: 2.7]
[Magic: 3.4]
Hmmm. 2 points in Strength, 1.5 in Agility... a bit low. But Vitality up by 2.2, Endurance up by 3. And Magic... 1.3 points. Still don’t know what that does.
He curled his fists. The feeling reminded him of Grunt’s Buff — except now the strength was his own.
The clothes were laughably big. Ru did what he could — cutting sleeves, tying cloth tight around Daemon’s slim waist. He rigged the scabbard for the Dagger on the left, stuffed the wooden Axe handle through the right.
Ippo, of course, had already looted the boots and Ao’s robe for himself, along with the biggest prize: the Sword. Ru kept the coins for now, busy drilling Ippo’s Sword-Form under the shade of a scorched tree.
As for Daemon’s feet — only a pair of straw sandals covered them. They chafed and scratched.
For now,
he thought, stretching his arms. He rolled his shoulders; his joints cracked like festive fireworks. A grin tugged at his lips.
“Good — didn’t lose any flexibility.” He dropped to a bridge, flipped backward, sprang high, split his legs mid-air. Landing lightly, he felt the difference: a body light as air, yet dense with power no mortal frame should carry without a lifetime of sacrifice.
Ru and Jia exchanged a knowing look — they’d seen the signs already. Their Young Master hadn’t grasped the real gift yet, but they’d let him discover it in his own time.
He spent the next hour leaping through the clearing like a wild monkey, Ippo trailing him step for step. Each jump, each clash of wooden Axe and borrowed Sword, left Ru more certain — and a touch more unnerved.
How?
The clone, the sweet harmless Ippo — no Yellow-Scale Fruit, no Spirit Formation, yet his body mirrored Daemon’s newfound strength. Even his footwork and strikes flowed smoother than they had hours ago.
Ru and Jia locked eyes. Understanding flickered there — and an uneasy dread.
Does that mean the true body hidden in the Sect... the third clone living like a devil... all share this?
Ru shook his head, watching Ippo swing Ao’s heavy Sword as if born for it.
Comparisons will drive you mad,
he thought.
“It’s true,” Jia whispered, shivering at a memory she’d rather forget. “If he ever lets out that killing intent...”
Ru’s grip tightened on his old Sword, his faithful companion for over a decade.
Time to find a blade worthy of my Water Qi,
he thought.
Daemon dropped from a branch, breath even, hair wild. “Come, Ru. Take four pheasants. We’re going to the village.”
Ru shook himself from his thoughts, slung the birds over his shoulder, and followed.
Behind them, Ippo winked at Jia, blade balanced across his shoulders. “I’ll keep practicing. Lucky me — I get to watch all this beauty from up close.” He laughed, then buried himself in swing after swing, each motion crisp, precise, hungry for perfection.
Jia blushed crimson. The words stuck like an ember in her chest — the first time in years she saw herself not as an Assassin, not a tool, but a young woman with something worth admiring. A seed of self-awareness took root.
“What’s the plan in the village, Young Master?” Ru asked, catching up. In his mind, he ticked through a list: clothes, boots, bedding, maybe a sturdy tent.
Daemon’s expression turned hard — his eyes went dead, cold. “To pay two debts. One of Karma. One of gratitude. After today, nothing chackles me.”
Ru stayed silent. They moved fast, the village gates appearing through the trees like the edge of an old memory.
Daemon halted at a familiar wooden fence, half-rotted, poultry clucking inside. The vegetable patch was dead, weeds reclaiming what he’d once tended by hand. He stepped through the open gate, sandals silent on the dry earth.
“Huh? W-what are you doing here, Da Niu? And who’s this?” His mother’s voice crackled from the old window. She burst through the door, eyes flicking from Daemon to Ru — then froze on the pheasants. Her cracked lips twitched greedily.
She was average. A simple woman with wide hips, a braid of dull black hair swaying to her waist. The only thing she carried was the soft weight of faded memories and small appetites.
Daemon said nothing. He drew his Dagger, cut down the biggest pheasant, and dropped it at her feet. His eyes didn’t waver.
“Goodbye. If fate wills it, we’ll meet again. Take care.”
He turned, not sparing her another glance. Ru lingered — just long enough to see her hunger drown out the meaning of her son’s final words. She didn’t chase. She didn’t call after him.
Ru shook his head. He turned his back on the woman, quickening his steps to catch his Young Master.
Thank the ancestors,
he thought,
for letting us stand at this boy’s side — a boy who knows how to cut ties without flinching.
Here's a link to my discord server if you want to talk - .gg/HwHHR6Hds
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