After making Anshvi unconscious and carefully placing her within a secluded cave whose narrow entrance and jagged stone formations concealed it naturally from both beasts and wandering cultivators, Eklavya did not look back toward Trapura City even once. Not even for the briefest fragment of a second. It was as though turning his head might crack the resolve he had finally hardened through blood, exhaustion, and denial.

  His silhouette vanished deeper into the forest as he ran without pause. His figure merged with the shadows of the towering trees that stretched endlessly across the Nile Mountain Range. A place where even seasoned cultivators tread carefully, and where countless nameless bones lay buried beneath roots and moss.

  This forest was known as the Pranahara Forest. A land feared not only within the Mati Empire but across the entire southern region of the continent—Land of Empires. In this forest, survival itself was an achievement. Mercy was a concept long devoured by time, whether between humans or between humans and beasts. Everyone could kill anyone inside this forest for a single herb or any other opportunity that appeared here.

  Ranked second among the most dangerous forests in the southern continent, Pranahara was infamous for swallowing clans, caravans, sect disciples, and even wandering Spirit Warriors, if they went too deep inside. It left behind not so much as a ripple in history. Powerful beasts roamed freely here, their bloodlines thick with savagery and power. Bandits, mercenaries, and outlaws carved their own kingdoms within the shadows, living by blades and dying by them.

  The forest sprawled across two vast mountain ranges—the Nile Mountain Range and the Saga Mountain Range. Both were considered the backbone of the Mati Empire’s geography, yet also its greatest curse. Within these mountains existed beasts whose strength rivaled multiple sect elders or even entire empires in the southern region. Alongside them grew forbidden herbs guarded by creatures that slaughtered without hesitation.

  It was into this land that Eklavya ran. Not as a fugitive, but as someone who had willingly chosen exile.

  He ran throughout the entire night. His breath was steady but deep. His muscles screamed beneath layers of exhaustion as he crossed ridges, ravines, and dense woodland paths, heading toward the mountain valley where he and Anshvi had once taken shelter while being chased by the Falling Leaf Pavilion.

  The difference now was absolute. This time, he was alone. The silence that followed him was heavier than any pursuit.

  As the night slowly loosened its grip, faint rays of sunlight began piercing through the thick cloud canopy that blanketed the sky. Dim silver-gold streaks cut through the mist.

  The clouds had only recently gathered, and dawn had not yet fully claimed the horizon. The forest remained suspended in a gray, breathless twilight where shadows stretched unnaturally long and sound carried farther than it should have.

  …

  Anshvi awoke during those early hours of dawn. Her consciousness returned in slow fragments as the chill of stone pressed against her back, and the faint scent of damp earth and moss filled her senses.

  When she opened her eyes fully, she found herself inside a deep cave, safe and structurally stable. Clearly abandoned for many years. Its walls were marked by cracks, old claw marks, and the faint residue of dried beast blood from battles long forgotten.

  For a brief moment, confusion flickered across her face. Then memory surged back all at once, vivid and sharp.

  The clash of swords beneath the moonlight. The warmth of his arms. The silence that followed.

  Her cheeks warmed despite herself as she recalled everything that had happened the previous night. Her fingers tightened slightly at her side. Although sadness lingered because she had failed to bring him back with her, there was also something else now. Something heavier and quieter.

  After all those years, Eklavya had finally accepted her feelings. In doing so, he had acknowledged his own.

  She rose slowly and stepped out of the cave. The cool morning air brushed against her skin as she lifted her gaze toward the overcast sky, clouds drifting lazily above the mountain peaks.

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  “You won’t go back with me,” she said softly. Her voice was carried away by the wind. A small smile curved her lips. Not bitter or forced.

  “Be careful out there.”

  With that, she gathered her ki and rose into the air. Her figure streaked away toward the direction of the Rudra Clan, leaving behind the cave and the quiet mountain valley.

  …

  Meanwhile, Eklavya reached the valley at last. He arrived at the exact location where he and Anshvi had once stopped for the night. The cave beside the lake stood unchanged, its surface still and reflective, mirroring the stone formations and submerged herbs beneath the water with unnatural clarity.

  He stepped inside the cave and exhaled sharply before lowering himself onto the ground. His back pressed against the cold stone. He did not remove his mask. Nor did he allow himself the comfort of closing his eyes fully, because exhaustion, though overwhelming, was not yet permitted to claim him.

  His body was drenched in dried beast blood. His muscles were strained from endless movement, combat, and repeated use of the Demonic Spirit Needle. Though he bore no visible injuries, his internal energy reserves were dangerously depleted.

  For a brief moment, he considered sleeping. That thought vanished instantly.

  His senses flared as multiple presences came near the perimeter of the lake. Their auras were unfamiliar yet unmistakably hostile. Eklavya let out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing in resignation.

  ‘I’m not going to get any rest today,’ he thought coldly.

  Magha’s voice finally surfaced after remaining silent throughout the night. Calm and emotionless. ‘So, finish it as quickly as possible.’

  Eklavya stood and stepped outside the cave. His eyes immediately locked onto the figures standing along the shoreline and scattered among the trees. Cultivators clad in green uniforms. Their insignia is unmistakable.

  The Falling Leaf Sect.

  His voice echoed clearly across the lake as he spoke without raising it.

  “Nah, there are many old friends waiting.”

  The lake before him was deceptively beautiful. Its surface was smooth as glass, reflecting submerged stones and glowing herbs beneath the water. Heavy clouds rolled above, completely obscuring the sky.

  Standing opposite him were fifteen enemies. Ten practitioner warriors. Five master warriors. Each radiated killing intent sharpened by humiliation and sect pride.

  Eklavya stepped onto the surface of the lake as though it were solid ground. Ripples spread outward beneath his feet as he walked forward calmly. The moment he reached the center, all ten practitioner warriors launched themselves toward him simultaneously from all directions. Their movements were synchronized but reckless.

  Eklavya activated his Supreme Body. Energy surged through his limbs as he reached into his storage ring and drew his sword. The blade materialized slowly in his hand, as though savoring the coming slaughter.

  He rose into the air just as they closed in, floating above them effortlessly. Five chakra rings formed around his left arm. They rotated slowly, humming with suppressed force.

  Eklavya smiled. He thrust his arm downward, releasing the first chakra wheel.

  The pressure descended like a collapsing mountain.

  The practitioner warriors who had leapt toward him were crushed instantly. Their bodies were forced down onto the lake’s surface. Knees struck water. Heads bowed uncontrollably beneath the overwhelming weight.

  The sheer force of the chakra ring was enough to suppress even a one-star master warrior. These men were nothing more than practitioners.

  One of them struggled desperately. Veins bulged as he tried to lift his head. His voice trembled beneath the crushing force. “You… who are you really?”

  Before Eklavya could answer, danger surged behind him.

  A master warrior struck from his blind spot, sword already mid-swing. Eklavya turned at the last possible instant, meeting the blade head-on. He released a surge of strength that sent the attacker crashing back onto the ground, rolling violently across the water’s surface.

  Before that warrior could recover, another master moved.

  Eklavya shifted seamlessly, deflecting the second attack and forcing that opponent back as well. His movements were precise, controlled and utterly merciless.

  “Two two-star master warriors,” Eklavya said coldly. His voice carried clearly. “You all are nothing special at all.”

  The three remaining masters ground their teeth in fury. Humiliation burned in their eyes as they launched themselves into the air simultaneously. Swords raised high. Auras flaring violently.

  All three swung at once, pouring their energy into their blades. Three crescent slashes tore through the air, converging toward Eklavya with lethal precision.

  Eklavya glanced downward briefly at the practitioner warriors still struggling beneath the chakra ring. Their bodies trembled as they fought against pressure they could never overcome. His jaw tightened.

  He withdrew the chakra ring.

  The massive wheel hovering above the practitioners shrank instantly. It merged back around his arm with the remaining four. In that same breath, Eklavya vanished.

  He just vanished from there. Like he was never there.

  His movement was so fast that even the master warriors failed to register it. Their slashes tore through empty air as shock flashed across their faces.

  He reappeared behind the master warrior he had knocked down earlier, who had only just managed to regain his footing.

  Eklavya’s sword pierced through the man’s chest without resistance.

  The master warrior’s body lurched forward toward the lake. Blood sprayed across the water’s surface as Eklavya withdrew the blade calmly. With a final, choking cry, the man collapsed and died, his corpse sinking slowly into the lake below.

  Cold silence followed. And the slaughterer had only just begun his slaughtering.