Arin spent two days on the hillside, a meticulous, silent predator studying its prey. Lord Malachi's estate, with its high walls and constant patrols, was not built to repel an army, but to frustrate a single, highly skilled assassin.
Arin focused on the rhythms. He used his enhanced vision and hearing to track the patrols. The guards were not sloppy, but they were arrogant relying on the sheer density of the spiritual wards to cover them. Arin catalogued the infinitesimal overlaps and gaps in their patrol routes.
The true challenge lay in the spiritual defences. The outer wall was protected by low-grade Motion Wards' simple pressure sensors. But the inner fortress, leading to the central spire and the rumoured vault, was encased in a formidable, high-output Sensing Array.
This array was far more complex than the single Life-Sensing ward of the Duskwind Sect. This one didn't just look for high-Qi reserves; it profiled the entire Qi signature spectrum, searching for any unnatural absence or instability a defence designed to catch both the powerful intruder and the subtle, low-Qi thief.
Arin realised his current strategy was insufficient. He could not rely on his low-Qi disguise to bypass a defence specifically designed to flag the unnatural flatness of his signature. Attempting to pass through the inner array would be instant detection and confrontation with Lord Malachi himself.
The only solution was wholesale spiritual sabotage. If the array was too potent to bypass, it had to be disabled entirely. Such a large-scale, high-output formation required an enormous, constant source of power, a centralised Formation Core.
Find the heart, and the body will fall still.
Arin spent the next few hours tracking the faint, pulsing lines of spiritual power that ran from the inner spire outward. He followed the energy flow to the lowest level of the complex, beneath the kitchens and servant quarters was the logical place for the noisy, volatile power core.
The sun had set, and a heavy, windless night had fallen the ideal cover.
Arin began his infiltration from the north wall, exploiting a flaw he'd observed in the patrol rotation: a single, five-minute window as the two closest Core-Formation guards transitioned shifts.
He used the Shadow-Weave Steps to glide over the outer wall, making his body a brief, flickering mirage that the Motion Wards could not detect. He landed silently within the estate grounds, his Blood-Engraved stealth making his footfalls nonexistent. He then moved with surgical precision through the darkness, using the structure's shadows and the ambient noise of the estate to cloak his movements.
He reached the main structure and found a poorly maintained service conduit and a thick ventilation shaft leading down. He squeezed his body inside, using the immense grip and density of his Bone-Forged frame to lower himself silently, shrugging off the scraping pain.
The shaft opened into a labyrinthine basement a world of steam pipes, storage rooms, and the heavy, buzzing presence of immense power. The temperature was high, and the air was thick with the scent of refined spiritual minerals.
He moved toward the overwhelming spiritual hum the sound of energy being refined and controlled. He followed the heat and the power lines to a large, reinforced chamber.
Through a narrow grate, Arin saw it: the Formation Core.
The core was not a crystal, but a man-made pool of viscous, glowing azure spiritual liquid, bubbling within a massive stone basin. This liquid was the concentrated, distilled lifeblood of the entire estate, constantly cycling power to the various wards and defences. Disabling it would cause a momentary, widespread security failure the perfect window for his theft.
The core chamber was not only warded but actively protected by three dedicated Core-Formation stage disciples, who ran diagnostic sequences and performed maintenance. This was the most critical junction of the entire estate, and Arin was now within spitting distance of its destruction.
The complexity of the task was staggering. He couldn't kill three Core-Formation cultivators silently; a fight would be an instant disaster. He had to create a distraction, disable the massive core, and get out, all within the span of seconds.
Arin retreated from the grate, his heart pounding not from fear, but from the clarity of the overwhelming challenge. He was no longer a shadow; he was a surgical bomb waiting for the precise moment of detonation. He had found the heart of the fortress, and now he had to devise a way to rip it out.