The God Hunted by the Heaven

5

Chapter 5

It wasn't Kael, but a taller, more authoritative figure—Elder Wyndon, the leader of this Skysword group. The energy emanating from the figure behind him was far calmer, deeper, and more commanding—like a tranquil ocean concealing immeasurable power.

"The night air is good for contemplation, is it not?" the voice sounded, deep and resonant, as if speaking directly to his soul.

Leo turned slowly. Standing there was Elder Wyndon, the leader of this expedition group. The man seemed older than he appeared during the day, his face etched with lines of wisdom and eyes that seemed to have witnessed the passing of ages.

"Elder Wyndon," Leo uttered, trying to stand to pay his respects, but a wave of pain made him hiss.

"No need," Elder Wyndon said with a gentle wave of his hand. He sat on a rock across from Leo, without any fuss. "An injured man has the right to rest. Especially after such an... eventful day."

His eyes, grey like mist, regarded Leo thoughtfully.

"The one-strike duel," he murmured, breaking the silence. "An unusual choice. Most would call it foolish. But I am inclined to see it as... brave. Or perhaps desperate."

Leo remained silent, his heart pounding. He felt like an insect pinned to an observation board.

"Kael is strong," Elder Wyndon continued, his eyes never leaving Leo. "He is arrogant, that is true. But his 'Mountain Splitting Sword' is no joke. Even a gifted disciple at his level would struggle to withstand it directly." He paused, creating an almost palpable tension. "So, it makes me wonder. What makes a Verdant Dawn disciple, clearly still weak and injured, so confident he can endure it?"

Leo scrambled for words. "Sometimes, desperation is a stronger motivator than strength, Elder."

"A wise answer," Elder Wyndon nodded, but there was a faint smile on his lips that didn't reach his eyes. "But it does not answer my question. You see, young man, when you fought that Alpha Wolf... your movements. Stiff, of course, due to injury. But there was a pattern beneath them. A foundation. The way you shifted your weight at the last moment, the way you used your arms to deflect, not to block... it reminded me of something."

Leo's heart beat faster. He had noticed.

"There is an ancient scroll in our sect's library," Elder Wyndon said, his voice now almost a whisper. "Very decrepit. It describes defensive techniques from a nearly forgotten era. They called it the 'Unshakable Stone Flow'. A technique focused on absorbing and redirecting energy, not confronting it head-on. It is said to have been extinct for thousands of years."

He stopped, letting his words hang in the cold air.

"And your movements earlier," he continued, his eyes now narrowed, "bear a striking resemblance to the basic principles of that technique. A very striking resemblance."

Leo froze. His blood ran cold in his veins. This Elder wasn't just powerful; he was immensely knowledgeable. He could see beyond even the most perfect disguise.

"Your family..." Elder Wyndon asked, his tone subtly probing yet piercing. "Did they pass down more than just... unstable Hemokinesis? Perhaps some ancient scrolls? Or maybe tales from a different age?"

This was a trap. Leo could feel it. Admitting it would expose his identity. Denying it too strongly would confirm suspicion.

"Elder," Leo said, striving to keep his voice steady. "I... am just a disciple from the borderlands. My grandfather used to tell stories of ancient techniques, but they were just bedtime tales. Perhaps... perhaps I unconsciously mimicked them. It must just be a coincidence."

"Coincidence," repeated Elder Wyndon, and for the first time, his voice held a note of disbelief. "A very interesting coincidence." He stood up, his shadow once again falling over Leo. "This world is full of mysteries, young man. And our sect, Skysword, has always valued knowledge. Especially knowledge that has been... long lost."

He looked at Leo one last time, and in that gaze, Leo could see that he was not viewed as an injured disciple, but as a puzzle to be solved.

"Rest, Leo," Elder Wyndon said before turning to leave. "We will reach the sect tomorrow. And when you face Kael in the arena... I will be watching your coincidences very closely."

With that, Elder Wyndon disappeared into the shadows of the night, leaving Leo alone with thoughts swirling in fear. The threat was real, and it came from a direction he had never anticipated. Not just from a jealous rival, but from a sage whose eyes could see the shadows of his past.

As Leo finally returned to his tent, his heart still pounding, he found another small slip of paper lying on his bedroll. The writing on it was briefer and more urgent than before:

"Wyndon knows more than he says. He is the sect's Head Historian. BEWARE. Do not reveal anything."

Someone in this camp was his ally. And someone else—Elder Wyndon—was a far more dangerous threat than Kael. The hunt was closing in, even before he reached his supposed sanctuary.

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