I stared at Master Hong standing there in the entrance, water droplets from the waterfall catching the light around him. This was exactly what I'd been trying to avoid. The whole point of finding this isolated training chamber was to keep my experiments private, but apparently I'd underestimated just how far a Sect Mastery breakthrough would travel.

  "Master Hong," I said carefully. "I can explain—"

  The monk's hurt expression twisted with rage, and suddenly the air around him exploded with golden light. His Martial Aura burst outward with such force that the waterfall actually reversed direction for a moment, water shooting upward before gravity reasserted itself. The stone beneath his feet cracked in a spiderweb pattern.

  My eyes widened. This was bad. Really, really bad.

  One second Master Hong was standing by the entrance. The next, he simply wasn't there anymore.

  Pure instinct saved me. I threw my arms up, channeling every bit of Martial Qi I could into reinforcing them. Master Hong's palm strike connected with my crossed forearms, and despite my defense, the impact felt like getting hit by a freight train made of concentrated violence.

  I went flying backward through the air, the world spinning around me.

  The stone wall of the chamber rushed toward my back at alarming speed. I twisted my body, using the Swift Wind Stepping technique that was now part of my muscle memory, and managed to flip myself around. My feet hit the wall first, knees bending to absorb the impact, then I pushed off and landed in a fighting stance about ten meters from where I'd started.

  My arms throbbed with pain despite the reinforcement.

  If I hadn't blocked that strike, if it had hit my chest or head directly...

  Master Hong stood where I'd been moments before, his eyes burning with an intensity that made my stomach drop. He wasn't looking at me like a teacher disappointed in a student. He was looking at me like I'd personally murdered everyone he'd ever cared about.

  This was really bad. I'd just broken through to Sect Mastery Realm five seconds ago. I had the raw power, sure, but zero experience using it in actual combat. Against someone who'd been at this level for probably decades? Someone who knew every trick, every technique, every subtle application of Martial Aura that I hadn't even discovered yet?

  I wasn't confident about staying alive, much less winning this fight.

  My mind raced through options. Running seemed like the obvious choice, but where would I go? This was Master Hong's home territory. He knew every path, every hiding spot. And with his experience advantage, he'd probably catch me before I made it past the waterfall.

  Fighting was out of the question. Even if I somehow got lucky and won, that would just make things worse. Killing a respected elder of the Iron Body Temple? Every martial artist in the province would hunt me down.

  Maybe I could try talking? Explain that I wasn't actually a demon, that I'd made a deal with Jinghui, that—

  "Let me talk to him."

  Jinghui's voice caught me off guard. I'd gotten so used to him being a silent observer that hearing him speak up was jarring.

  "Why?" I asked internally, not breaking eye contact with Master Hong.

  "I think I can convince him. He raised me. He knows me better than anyone. If anyone can make him understand, it's me."

  I wasn't sure words would be enough here. Master Hong looked ready to tear me apart with his bare hands. But what other options did I have? If Jinghui thought he could defuse this situation...

  "Alright," I said. "It's your show."

  I pulled back, letting Jinghui's consciousness flow forward into control of his body. The change must have shown in the body language or expression, because Master Hong's eyes widened slightly.

  "Jinghui?" he whispered, his fighting stance wavering. "You're not dead?

  "Yes, Master. It's me, I'm still alive." Jinghui's voice carried all the respect and affection of a student addressing a beloved teacher. "I know how this looks. I know what you must be thinking. But please, just listen to me for a moment."

  Master Hong's Martial Aura flickered, the golden light dimming slightly. But he didn't lower his guard. "How do I know it's really you? The creatures that descend are masters of deception. It could be mimicking your mannerisms, using your memories against me."

  "You found me at the gate nine years ago," Jinghui said quietly. "It was winter. I was holding my mother's hair ornament, the only thing I managed to grab before running from home. You gave me rice porridge and asked if I wanted to learn martial arts. When I said I wanted to be strong enough to kill my brother, you didn't judge me. You just said 'one step at a time.'"

  Master Hong's breath caught. That wasn't the kind of detail recorded in any official records. Only the two of them would know about that first conversation. And now maybe the otherworldly being...

  "And you've spent every year since trying to save me from my hatred," Jinghui continued. "Extra meditation sessions where you'd talk about compassion while I pretended to listen. The time you 'accidentally' left that sutra about forgiveness on my sleeping mat. When you took me to visit the graves of the Tan family, killed in a revenge cycle that lasted three generations."

  "Stop." Master Hong's voice cracked. "Even if you are Jinghui, that thing inside you is corrupting you. Look at what it's done to your body! You've advanced from Inner Pulse to Sect Mastery in hours. No honest cultivation can achieve that."

  "You're right," Jinghui admitted. "It's not normal cultivation. But Master, the being inside me isn't evil. He's helped me more in a few hours than I could have achieved in decades of training alone."

  "You can't trust what it says!" Master Hong's aura flared again. "These creatures lie. They promise power, wealth, whatever you desire most. Then they consume you from within."

  "He's already given me the power," Jinghui said. "If he wanted to consume me, why wait? Why bother teaching me to form Meridian Rings properly? Why ask my permission for which technique to unify with? Why let me speak to you now instead of fighting?"

  Master Hong's jaw clenched. "Deception. Complex, elaborate deception."

  "Master..." Jinghui's voice grew soft. "I know you're worried about me. You always have been. You've watched me carry this hatred for nine years, probably wondering when I'd snap, when I'd become the monster you couldn't save. But this being, this cultivator from another realm, he's not pushing me toward darkness. He's just giving me the tools I've always wanted."

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  "Tools to kill your brother."

  "Yes." Jinghui didn't flinch from the truth. "But you knew I'd never let that go. You knew from the day you found me that I'd spend my whole life pursuing revenge. At least now I have a chance."

  "I should never have taken you in." Master Hong's words came out like physical pain. "I thought I could save you. I thought if I showed you enough kindness, enough of the right path, you'd let go of your hatred. But I failed. And now you've invited darkness into your soul, and I... I have to..."

  His aura condensed, becoming so dense it was almost solid. The golden light compressed into geometric patterns that hung in the air around him. I could see actual words forming in the patterns, ancient script that seemed to carry the weight of absolute law.

  "I was the one who accepted you into this temple," Master Hong said, his voice heavy with grief. "I'm responsible for what you've become. It's my duty to correct this mistake. Forgive me, my child."

  He then vanished.

  Damn it.

  I tried to surge forward, to retake control from Jinghui, but the transition took a precious fraction of a second. Too slow. Way too slow.

  Master Hong materialized directly in front of us, his palm already in motion.

  I could see the attack coming with perfect clarity, could see the compressed Martial Aura around his hand that would not just kill the body but completely destroy my spiritual manifestation. This wasn't just a killing blow. This was instant elimination.

  Time seemed to slow down. The palm descended toward Jinghui's chest. I couldn't dodge. Couldn't block. Couldn't do anything but watch death approaching.

  The palm missed by a millimeter.

  Master Hong's hand passed so close to Jinghui's chest that the fabric of his robes disintegrated from the proximity. The force of the strike continued past us, and the entire back wall of the training chamber simply ceased to exist. Stone, water, even the air itself was torn apart by the attack's passage. I could see clear through to the forest beyond, trees turned to splinters for a hundred meters in a perfectly straight line.

  But Jinghui remained untouched.

  When the dust settled, Master Hong had fallen to his knees. His head slumped forward, and his shoulders shook. At first, I thought he was injured, maybe some kind of qi deviation from pulling his strike at the last possible moment. Then I heard his words.

  "I can't do it." His voice broke on the words. "I can't kill you. Nine years I've watched over you. Nine years I've tried to be the father you lost. And now, when duty demands I end your life to prevent a greater evil, I can't even do that right."

  In our mindspace, Jinghui had gone completely silent. I could feel his shock, the emotional whiplash of thinking he was about to die only to realize his master had deliberately missed. The man who'd raised him for nine years, who'd just declared it his duty to kill him, couldn't bring himself to follow through.

  Master Hong looked so small kneeling there. Not like a Sect Mastery expert who could level mountains, but like an old man who'd just failed at something vital.

  I approached slowly, carefully.

  Master Hong didn't react as I knelt beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

  He looked up, and I could see in his eyes that he knew it wasn't Jinghui looking back at him.

  "Are you going to kill me now?" he asked. No fear in his voice, just tired acceptance.

  I shook my head. "I didn't lie to Jinghui. I'm not here to hurt anyone. I'm just here for a battle, a tournament in my own realm. When it's done, I'll leave, and Jinghui will have his body back along with the cultivation I've helped him achieve."

  I helped the old monk to his feet. He was heavier than he looked, dense with muscle despite his age. The look he gave me was different from before; carrying a hint of hope.

  "I know my foolish disciple didn't make a Heavenly Pact with you," Master Hong said, brushing dust from his robes. "Anyone can speak pretty words. But a pact... that would make me feel better about this situation."

  A Heavenly Pact. They were basically unbreakable contracts enforced by the laws of heaven itself. Or in this case, probably the laws of the realm.

  "Sure," I said. "If that'll make you both more comfortable, I'm happy to take a pact."

  Master Hong's eyes widened slightly, probably surprised I'd agreed so easily. He gestured for me to raise my right hand, then began speaking in a formal tone.

  "By the laws of Heaven and Earth, by the martial way that flows through all things, speak your oath."

  I cleared my throat. "I swear by the Heavenly Dao that I will not harm the Iron Body Temple or any innocent people of this realm. I'm here only to participate in a tournament in my own world. When my time is up, I'll return Cao Jinghui's body to him, along with all the cultivation I've helped him achieve. This I swear."

  The moment the words left my mouth, something changed. The oppressive pressure that had been pushing against my spiritual manifestation since I arrived suddenly vanished. It felt like I'd been carrying a heavy backpack without realizing it, and someone had just lifted it off my shoulders.

  But immediately, a different kind of restriction settled into place. I could feel it wrapping around my ability to manipulate Martial Qi, not blocking it but monitoring it. Watching. Waiting.

  "The realm has accepted your oath," Master Hong explained. "It no longer sees you as an invader to be expelled. But understand this: if you break your promise, if you harm the temple or innocent people, you'll immediately lose all ability to manipulate Martial Qi in this realm. You'll be helpless."

  "That's fine," I said. And I meant it. I had no intention of going on a killing spree or anything crazy like that.

  Master Hong studied my face, Jinghui's face, for a long moment. Then he sighed deeply. "What's your name, spirit?"

  "Ke Yin."

  "Well, Ke Yin, I suppose we should discuss what happens next. The entire temple will have sensed that Sect Mastery breakthrough. Questions will be asked. Stories will need to be told."

  I smiled, feeling the tension finally starting to drain away. This had gone a lot better than expected. Sure, I'd nearly been obliterated by a grief-stricken monk, but now I had an ally who understood the situation. Someone who could help navigate the political complications of a disciple jumping several realms in one afternoon.

  "I'm open to suggestions," I said. "What do you think we should tell them?"

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