With confident steps, Eren continued his journey across the cracked stone path that cut through a forested region. Though this body was only a clone, it was still infused with a portion of his soul, and the strength it carried was no joke. His aura pulsed with quiet power—4th level of Soul Disciple, but already sharper and colder than most.
Strapped to his back was the twin-bladed soul weapon—Ice and Water Dragon Soul Sword, glimmering faintly with chilling energy. Occasional sparks of lightning crackled faintly across the hilt—a remnant of the Warren Legacy, bound within the sword itself.
As the sun reached its peak, Eren finally caught sight of walls looming in the distance. At the city gate, a few guards eyed him up and down.
"Entry fee's one silver," one grunted.
Eren handed it over wordlessly and entered Brayden City, a well-known trade city for rogue cultivators, mercenaries, and adventurers. Life pulsed through its streets—market stalls overflowing with goods, bards singing ballads of long-forgotten heroes, and warriors sparring in back alleys.
But Eren wasn't here to sightsee. His stomach rumbled.
"Time to eat… and listen."
He walked into a small, somewhat dusty restaurant tucked between a blacksmith and an herb shop. The scent of grilled meat, sweet wine, and spice filled the air. It wasn't fancy, but it was busy—perfect for picking up gossip.
He took a side table near a cracked window and waved to the waitress. "A hot tea, please."
While sipping, he sharpened his senses, tuning in to nearby conversations. That's when the table behind him caught his ear.
> 1st Man (bald, scarred): "You hear? The Free Shadow Sect is recruiting again in two days."
2nd Man (lean, sarcastic): "Hah! Who'd be dumb enough to join that death trap? No rules, no masters, no protection. You're strong? You rule. You're weak? You're a slave… or dead."
Eren turned slightly, intrigued. A sect that didn't shackle him? That sounded… perfect.
He stood up and walked over with a calm smile. "Excuse me. Mind if I join your table?"
The scarred man scoffed. "Who the hell are you? Go sit somewhere else, brat."
Eren didn't react. Instead, he raised a finger. "Waiter, two bottles of your strongest saké for these men—on me."
That changed their tone.
The lean man chuckled. "Heh. Now you're talking. Sit down, kid."
Eren joined them. "So… this Free Shadow Sect. What's the deal?"
The scarred man took a gulp of saké. "You got guts, I'll give you that. Listen up. That sect? It ain't like the rest. You don't get a master. You don't get a place to hide. Once you join, you're on your own. The strong take what they want—skills, pills, weapons—even people. The weak? Crushed like bugs. If you've got power, you'll thrive. If not…"
He drew a line across his throat with a finger.
The lean man added, "But the opportunity's there. City center, two days. An elder will appear and take the applicants to the trial ground. You still wanna go?"
Eren smirked. "Definitely. Thanks for the drink."
He paid for their saké, stood, and walked back into the sunlight.
"Two days, huh?" he muttered to himself. "That's enough time to push myself one more level."
Without delay, he rented a room at a nearby inn. It was small and quiet—just what he needed.
Locking the door behind him, Eren sat cross-legged on the floor. Around him, the energy shifted. The ice and water dragon soul sword slowly floated behind him, emanating a cold mist. Lightning flickered across the blade, as if awakening.
He closed his eyes and sank into cultivation.
In two days, he would enter the Free Shadow Sect. And when he did, he wouldn't just survive—
He would dominate.