The sun had barely risen when the march began. Thousands of Jaegal soldiers crossed valleys and slopes, their armor reflecting the timid glow of dawn. From above, it was an imposing sight: banners in the wind, spears raised, muffled drums.
The route they followed was the same one drawn on the map in the dark room. The obvious trail. The bait.
Meanwhile, on a distant hill, the true leader of the Ryong Clan, Ryong Jeon, watched the march with cold, seasoned eyes. Beside him, one of the oldest counselors clenched his fists.
— They're taking that route... exactly as we predicted.
Jeon didn't respond immediately. His gaze was fixed on the figure marching at the head of the column, clad in black armor and a gray cloak.
— He... looks like the exiled Jaegal. The youngest. But it's not him. He lacks the weight in his eyes.
— A trick?
— Perhaps. It doesn't matter. The real one must've fled, and the soldiers don't know. If they did, they would've already deserted. Let's crush the front line and cut off the serpent's head. Real or not.
The attack was prepared quickly. The Ryong descended with fury.
But in the shadows of a narrow ravine, among forgotten cliffs, the true protagonist walked with the Ócultos. His steps were silent. The wind seemed to bow to them. With each movement, the air vibrated with contained expectation.
— Target in sight — whispered one of the Ócultos. — Down there. Ryong Jeon, in the rear. Unprotected, only the counselor by his side.
I raised my hand, and the Ócultos spread like poison in open veins. Invisible movements. A strike here, a cut there. Silent weakening.
Even so, Jeon resisted. He killed more than half the Ócultos with a ferocity worthy of his position. But it was already too late.
When he tried to retreat, two Ócultos emerged from the shadows and cut his legs. He fell. Two more came and severed his arms. Jeon screamed, furious, bloody, spitting insults.
— Curse you... Jaegal! I knew... I knew you were treacherous!
He looked around, searching for the leader of the Jaegal Clan among the attackers, but what he saw was an Óculto approaching and removing their mask.
His eyes widened.
— You...
I raised my sword. Jeon tried to say something, but it was too late.
With a single strike, I severed his head.
The last thing he saw was my smile — calm, precise, silent.
The body dropped heavily.
I held the still-warm head, its eyes wide in surprise. I lifted it above me, covered in blood, and shouted with a voice as clear as thunder:
— THE RYONG LEADER IS DEAD!
Silence.
A silence that lasted the length of a breath.
And then, chaos.
The Ryong army faltered. Glances exchanged. Shields dropped from hands. Fear spread like fire in dry straw. Then — the rout. Disorganized, desperate.
— The counselor... — murmured one of the Ócultos. — He's still alive. Should we eliminate him?
— Without mercy.
— Understood — replied the Óculto, already vanishing into the mist.
Victory did not come from a spear.
It came from a plan.
And from a death that wasn't mine.
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System: Path of Transgression
1. Veil of Flesh
The beginning. The cultivator awakens the flow of vital energy in the body.
("The flesh is weak, but it is where the first error is born.")
2. Echo of Bones
Internal strengthening. Bones and tendons resonate with energy.
("The body speaks. And sometimes, it screams.")
3. Wandering Blood
Energy begins to circulate on its own, as if it had a will.
("Blood that moves on its own... is a sign of ruin or of power.")
<Óculto Commander Level>
4. Whisper of the Core
An inner core of power forms. The mind starts to hear things that shouldn't be spoken.
("He who hears the core, hears himself. And that is terrifying.")
5. Fractured Truth
The cultivator begins to glimpse fragments of the true nature of the world — and of themselves.
("Truth does not illuminate. It corrodes.")
6. Abyssal Bloom
Power blossoms in chaos. The energy seems beautiful, but is unstable and dangerous.
("Every flower must die for the seed to be born.")
7. Nameless Breath
At this level, the cultivator begins to exist between being and non-being. Techniques seem to emerge from the void.
("The name is a prison. Here, we begin to escape.")
8. Throne of No One
A legendary stage. Those who reach it lose all identity. Pure power, but utterly alone.
("The void has a king. But he no longer remembers who he is.")
9. ??????????
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