Chapter 9: Power in Disguise
Clinton emerged from the Howling Caves just as dawn bled across the sky. His robes were torn, stained with blood—some his, most not. But his steps were steady. His breath calm.
Inside, his Qi flowed like a steady stream.
> "Your body adapted well to the breakthrough," Narvek said. "Stabilization complete. Power level masked. For now."
"Good," Clinton muttered. "Last thing I need is some elder sniffing me out."
As he reached the edge of the cave grounds, the Outer Sect came into view.
A group of disciples were training, and among them… Scar-face. He turned, eyes narrowing the moment he spotted Clinton.
"Well, look who didn't die in a ditch," he sneered. "Thought the caves would chew you up."
Clinton offered a tired smirk. "They tried."
"You go in alone, without permission, and return? You're either lucky… or a liar."
Clinton kept walking, not taking the bait. But he could feel it already—eyes following him, whispers blooming like weeds.
> "Caution advised. High curiosity detected. Your sudden survival is statistically suspicious."
"No kidding."
He headed straight for the disciple quarters. As he opened the door to his assigned room, a familiar voice rang out.
"Instructor Feng wants to see you."
Clinton turned.
A quiet girl with dark green eyes stood there. She was holding a message scroll.
"Now," she added. "He's not in a patient mood."
Great.
Minutes later, Clinton was back in front of Instructor Feng, whose arms were crossed, expression unreadable.
"You disappeared during training," Feng said. "Then reappeared after surviving the Howling Caves… without permission."
Clinton stood straight. "I was… guided."
"By who?"
> "Do not reveal me," Narvek warned.
Clinton answered, "By instinct."
Feng narrowed his eyes.
"Few outer disciples return from those caves alive, even in groups. And you came back without broken bones or madness in your eyes."
Clinton met his gaze. "I got lucky."
Feng studied him for a long, uncomfortable moment.
Then he snorted. "Luck is often mistaken for skill. But let's see how far yours takes you."
He tossed a jade token onto the floor.
"Your punishment is training. Harder than before. Meet me at the western cliffs at dawn tomorrow. Fail, and you're out."
Clinton bowed and left.
> "That was closer than expected," Narvek said. "Recommendation: maintain low profile while enhancing strength. Avoid sparring. Avoid flaunting."
Clinton nodded. "Agreed. We keep growing… but from the shadows."
He spent the rest of the day meditating silently in his room, reinforcing the new Qi network inside him. But something was changing.
He could feel it now—others around him, faint pulses of energy. Footsteps in the courtyard. Disciples whispering in the dark.
And most of all…
That craving for more power.
Not just to survive.
But to dominate.
Night settled over the Outer Sect like a velvet curtain. Crickets chirped. Lanterns flickered. But Clinton couldn't sleep.
He sat cross-legged in his room, focusing on his breathing.
Inhale. Qi flowed in.
Exhale. Impurities trickled out.
> "You've stabilized the first stage of Foundation Entry," Narvek said. "However, your progress exceeds the data curve of this world's standard cultivation rate."
"Which means?"
> "You're getting too strong, too fast. If anyone scans your meridians with a high-tier technique, your disguise may rupture."
Clinton frowned. "Can't you block that?"
> "Yes. But only if they're not from the Core or Inner Sects. For now, you must remain beneath notice."
Just then, a knock.
Clinton rose and slid the door open slightly.
The green-eyed girl from before stood outside, glancing over her shoulder. She stepped in quickly.
"You're not from this continent, are you?" she whispered.
Clinton's jaw tensed. "Why would you say that?"
"You went into the caves. Came out alive. But your eyes… they didn't come back the same."
He didn't answer.
"I've seen something like it before," she continued. "Years ago, a rogue cultivator from the Forbidden Seas. He had a machine embedded in his spine."
Clinton stiffened.
> "Possible threat," Narvek said. "Monitor her."
"I'm not here to expose you," the girl said. "Just… be careful. The elders have their eyes on anything unusual. Especially now."
Clinton looked into her eyes. "Why warn me?"
She hesitated, then said, "Because I hate this place. The Sect's rules. The way they discard people like trash if they don't advance fast enough."
Clinton nodded slowly. "Then maybe we're not so different."
She gave a faint smile. "Name's Suyin. If you need help blending in, I'm decent with illusions."
Before he could respond, she vanished in a swirl of shadow-like mist. No trace left.
> "Cloaking technique. Mid-tier. Could be useful," Narvek noted.
Clinton sat back down, deep in thought. Allies? Already?
But trust was dangerous.
---
Later that night…
In the Inner Sect, an elder robed in midnight blue opened a long-forgotten scroll and placed a glass sphere atop it. The orb shimmered, showing Clinton's face—standing tall outside the Howling Caves.
"Strange… this one wasn't marked by fate," the elder muttered.
He leaned in. The orb flickered.
Then blacked out.
> "Unauthorized scan attempt detected. Intercepted," Narvek whispered to Clinton in his sleep. "But they're watching."