The town had already fallen silent when Ren returned. Most houses were dark, and only a few lanterns flickered along the road. Their light trembled in the night wind, casting long shadows over the empty street. Ren stopped beneath his house and glanced up toward his window. It was still slightly open.

  He climbed quietly, gripping the wooden frame and pulling himself up without making noise. The wood creaked softly under his weight, but the sound faded into the quiet night. Ren slipped through the window and landed inside his room. He closed it behind him and finally allowed himself to breathe normally.

  The fight at Kurotsuki Ridge had drained more than just his energy. His arms still ached from the strain of forcing shadow threads again and again. Even the air in the room felt heavy after the night he had just endured. Ren sat at the table beside his bed and emptied his pouch.

  Several crystal shards scattered across the wood. The Tsubasa Stone followed, its dark glow pulsing faintly. The second crystal rested beside it, silent and steady. Ren studied both for a moment before leaning back in his chair.

  His gaze slowly moved toward the wall across the room. Two small portraits hung there. The drawings were old now, the paper slightly faded along the edges. His parents stared back at him from another time.

  Their deaths had been explained simply. A merchant escort attacked by bandits outside the region. A tragic accident during travel. The town officials had repeated the story many times until it became the accepted truth.

  Ren had never believed it completely.

  Bandits left traces. Someone was always captured or hunted afterward. Yet in this case nothing had happened. No arrests. No pursuit. The story had ended the moment it was spoken.

  His fingers tapped lightly against the table.

  If their deaths had truly been an accident, the world had moved on too quickly. And if it had not been an accident… then someone had made sure the truth remained buried.

  Ren looked away from the portraits.

  Investigating it would be dangerous. Whoever had the power to silence an incident like that was not someone ordinary. But danger and opportunity often existed together. If powerful people were involved, uncovering the truth might reveal far more than revenge.

  It might reveal influence.

  Paths.

  Secrets others could never reach.

  Eventually Ren stood and put the crystals away. The night had grown deep and his body needed rest. Tomorrow the academy would continue as if nothing had happened.

  Sleep came quickly.

  Morning returned with the noise of students filling the academy training hall. Wooden weapons clattered and conversations echoed beneath the high ceiling. The instructor stood near the center of the room while rows of students watched him carefully.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Threads are not dependent on elements,” the instructor said, raising his hand.

  The air around his fingers shifted faintly. It was not visible, but the space itself seemed to bend slightly as something invisible stretched outward. Several students leaned forward in fascination.

  “Your Path Crystal only gives your threads a nature,” he continued. “But the threads themselves come from your Horizon.”

  He flicked his wrist.

  A sharp distortion sliced through the air and struck the wooden pillar across the room. The pillar split cleanly down the middle before collapsing onto the floor.

  Gasps spread through the class.

  “Even without flame, ice, or shadow,” the instructor said calmly, “threads can cut if your control is strong enough.”

  Students immediately began practicing. Some focused their senses, trying to feel the threads leaving their souls. Others flicked their hands repeatedly, hoping to produce something.

  At the back of the room, Ren slept with his head resting on the desk.

  Evening arrived before long. Ren walked home along the quiet road outside the academy, the sky already turning darker. As he moved past a row of houses, a faint glow caught his attention.

  Ren stopped and opened his pouch.

  The Tsubasa Stone shone more brightly than before.

  The cultivation attempt from the previous night had not been wasted. The crystal had stabilized further during the day. Its internal pressure felt deeper now, more condensed than it had been yesterday.

  Ren closed the pouch again and continued home.

  Night returned.

  Ren sat cross-legged on the floor of his room while the crystals rested in front of him. Several shards lay scattered between them. He picked up the unfamiliar crystal first and pushed a thin thread of spiritual pressure into it.

  The thread bent slightly.

  Not broken.

  Redirected.

  Ren’s eyes sharpened as he understood. This crystal was not meant to define a cultivation path. Instead it changed what threads could do after leaving the Horizon.

  Some crystals strengthened the body.

  Some accelerated movement.

  Some distorted space itself.

  They were tools—extensions of a cultivator’s combat style.

  Ren placed it aside for now and picked up the shards.

  He crushed them slowly between his fingers. The fragments dissolved under spiritual pressure and melted into a thin liquid that flowed into the Tsubasa Stone. The crystal absorbed it eagerly.

  Ren closed his eyes.

  Inside his soul, the Horizon stirred.

  It did not look like an organ or a structure. It felt more like a silent world suspended in darkness. At the center of that world burned a small star of spiritual energy, spinning slowly within a vast empty space.

  Far beyond that star stood a distant wall.

  Cold.

  Endless.

  The wall represented the next stage of power.

  Ren gathered his spiritual energy and pushed it toward the star. The light grew slightly brighter as pressure built around it. Threads spun outward from the star like invisible strands, stretching through the dark world of the Horizon.

  The star expanded a little.

  More shards dissolved into the crystal, feeding energy into the process. The star’s light grew stronger, illuminating more of the surrounding darkness.

  Ren could feel the progress clearly.

  Fifteen percent.

  Eighteen.

  Twenty.

  The pressure inside the Horizon increased as the star burned hotter. Ren pushed harder, forcing more energy inward. The star surged forward through the empty world until it approached the distant wall.

  Twenty-two percent.

  Then it stopped.

  The wall did not move.

  Ren tightened his focus and pushed again. The star flared brighter, threads vibrating violently as pressure surged through the Horizon.

  But the wall remained unmoved.

  The resistance was absolute.

  Sweat gathered along Ren’s brow as he tried once more. The star pushed forward again, its light burning fiercely against the invisible barrier.

  Nothing happened.

  Finally Ren exhaled and withdrew the pressure.

  The star slowly settled back into its normal rotation. The light dimmed slightly as the Horizon returned to calm.

  He opened his eyes.

  The Tsubasa Stone still glowed in his palm, but the breakthrough had not come. The wall remained standing, untouched by the attempt.

  Ren looked down at the crystal quietly.

  Twenty-two percent.

  Not enough to break through yet.

  But the star inside his Horizon was brighter than it had ever been before.