Chapter 144: Chapter 144: Infiltrating Clear Water Sect

And deeper within the sect, where the structures grew more refined and the presence of stronger individuals could be faintly felt, he slowed.

Careful, and measured.

Its form thinned further, almost disappearing completely as it lingered within the shadow of a tall pillar, just outside another hall.

Waiting.

Night settled fully over the Clear Water Sect, and the calm it carried during the day shifted into something quieter, tighter, as lanterns were lit along the stone paths, their soft golden light reflecting across the still ponds while the rest of the sect slowly dimmed into silence.

Most of the disciples had already returned to their quarters.

Doors closed.

Voices lowered.

Only the night watch remained.

Nyxveil moved.

He slid along the edge of a tiled roof, its form stretched thin across the darkness between beams, barely more than a stain of shadow clinging to the structure, its presence so faint that even the flickering lanternlight failed to catch it.

Below, a pair of disciples walked their patrol.

Both carried short spears, their steps steady but not tense, their conversation quiet enough that it barely disturbed the stillness.

“…You heard what recently happened?” one of them whispered.

The other gave a small nod.

“Everyone heard. Five towns gone. Just like that.”

A brief pause.

“Also the monster… you think it’s real?”

The first disciple let out a dry breath.

“If Senior Brother Ren Kai says it is, then it is.”

They walked a few more steps.

“Still… our out towns like that.”

Nyxveil watched them.

The way their attention drifted between their surroundings and their own thoughts.

There was no danger here.

Not even close.

Even if it stood right behind them, they would not notice until it was too late.

Nyxveil moved again.

He slipped down from the roof, merging seamlessly into the shadow cast by a nearby pillar, then flowed across the ground like a thin layer of darkness, passing between the two disciples without either of them reacting.

Deeper inside the sect, the paths grew emptier.

The wide courtyards that had been filled with movement during the day were now still, the only sound coming from the faint ripple of water and the occasional rustle of leaves.

Rows of disciple quarters lined the inner sections.

Most of the lights inside had already gone out.

A few remained lit.

Soft voices slipped through the thin walls.

“…they said it’s a monster, and as strong as peak body tempering…”

“…no way. That has to be exaggerated…”

“…then how did they survive?”

“…Senior Brother Ren Kai was there…”

Nyxveil paused outside one of the buildings, its form clinging to the underside of the roof, listening without moving.

Then he moved again, faster this time.

He crossed from one structure to another, avoiding open spaces where the lanternlight was strongest, always choosing the narrowest shadows, the darkest angles, places where even the eye would naturally skip.

Further in, the presence changed. There were stronger disciples. Not many, but enough that Nyxveil slowed again.

Careful.

His body thinned further, almost dissolving completely as it pressed itself against the shadow of a carved stone wall, its awareness extending outward, brushing lightly against the flow of life energy in the area.

The deeper Nyxveil moved into the sect, the quieter everything became, not the peaceful quiet of rest, but the kind that came from control, from discipline, from a place where strength stood guard even when most had already gone to sleep.

The buildings changed.

Less simple, and more refined.

Stone instead of wood, and carvings along the walls.

Formation marks etched faintly into the ground, almost invisible unless you knew what to look for.

Nyxveil slowed.

His form pressed flat against the shadow of a low wall, its presence nearly erased as its perception spread outward again, brushing against the shadows in the surroundings.

He moved carefully, slipping along the edge of a corridor before stopping beneath the overhang of a larger structure.

The treasury.

Even without seeing the sign, it was obvious.

The doors were thick, reinforced with dark metal bands, faint patterns etched across their surface, not decorative, but functional. Defensive. Protective.

And in front of those doors stood two figures.

Silent.

But nothing like the guards outside.

These two didn’t shift their weight.

Didn’t whisper.

Didn’t let their attention drift.

Their breathing was slow.

Controlled.

Their presence steady and heavy, pressing faintly against the air around them.

Peak body tempering.

Nyxveil watched.

The difference was clear.

These two could not be compared to the others it had passed.

If Nyxveil made a mistake here, even a small one, it would not go unnoticed.

He did not move closer.

Instead, he let its awareness expand further, tracing the faint currents of life energy that lingered in the area, following the subtle disturbances left behind by stronger individuals.

And he found them.

Two more.

Not here.

But nearby.

One stationed along the inner courtyard path, pacing slowly with deliberate steps.

Another resting above, hidden within a higher structure, likely watching from a vantage point.

Four peak body tempering practitioners.

Guarding one area.

Important.

Very important.

From within the treasury, there was almost no sound, but faint traces of energy seeped through the cracks of the door, contained, sealed, but still present.

Nyxveil did not linger any longer.

It had seen enough.

Four peak body tempering practitioners guarding a single location meant the sect valued whatever was inside far more than the outer defenses, and that alone was already worth remembering.

Its form shifted.

Not outward.

Inward.

Thinning until it became nothing more than a faint smear of darkness along the edge of the wall, then slipping away without a trace.

It moved deeper.

Past the treasury.

Past the guarded paths.

Toward the heart.

The Sect Master’s chamber.

The closer it got, the more the atmosphere changed. The air itself felt heavier, not from numbers, but from presence, from a single point of power that quietly pressed outward without needing to show itself.

Nyxveil slowed.

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