Eklavya slowed as he approached the location marked on the map and gradually reduced his speed until his movements became almost imperceptible.

  By the time he was only a few trees away from the enemy group, he had already concealed his presence completely. His breathing grew faint, his aura suppressed to the point where even a trained cultivator would struggle to sense him. From his position behind the thick trunk of an ancient tree, he carefully observed the area ahead.

  Between the trees lay a small clearing where the forest canopy opened just enough to allow dim light to reach the ground. Five men from the Falling Leaf Sect were gathered there. They had built a small fire using dry twigs and scattered pieces of wood collected from the forest floor.

  The flames flickered weakly in the restless wind, casting dancing shadows across their faces and armour. The men appeared relaxed, speaking quietly among themselves as if they believed this part of the forest to be safe.

  After a short while, one of the men pushed himself up from where he had been sitting. He stretched his arms above his head and rolled his shoulders, clearly tired from long hours of searching. With slow steps, he walked away from the fire, moving a little farther from the group and disappearing partially among the surrounding trees, unaware that someone far more dangerous than the forest itself was already watching him.

  Eklavya stepped lightly onto the next branch, shifting closer to the clearing. Now, only a single tree separated him from the group below.

  From this position, he could clearly see the flickering fire, the scattered shadows, and the men sitting around it, unaware of the danger watching them from the darkness above. The wind brushed through the branches, carrying the faint smell of burning wood and smoke upward toward him.

  Calmly, he raised his hand toward the centre of his forehead. His fingers moved slightly, as if guiding something that existed beyond ordinary sight. A moment later, the demonic needle emerged from the space between his eyebrows.

  The thin weapon appeared almost like a fragment of darkness itself, hovering silently in the air before him. Eklavya’s hand shifted with precise control, directing the needle toward its target. Then, with a subtle flick of his fingers, the weapon shot forward.

  The moment it launched, the air around it bent violently. A sharp crack tore through the silence as the needle ripped through the atmosphere at terrifying speed.

  In the blink of an eye, it crossed the clearing and struck its target. The weapon pierced straight through the chest of one of the two-star Master Warriors, passing through his body as if resistance did not exist.

  The attack was so sudden, so impossibly fast, that none of the others even had time to react before the man’s body jerked and collapsed beside the dying fire.

  For a brief moment, the clearing froze in stunned silence. Then the remaining warriors sprang to their feet. Three of them immediately dashed several steps backwards, drawing their swords from their sheaths with sharp metallic sounds. Their eyes scanned the surrounding trees, searching for the unseen attacker.

  One of them, a five-star Master Warrior, stepped forward slightly, his voice filled with anger and disbelief as he shouted into the dark forest.

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  “Who dares to attack us?!”

  Eklavya stepped forward and dropped lightly from the branch above, landing a short distance in front of them. His feet touched the ground without a sound, as though the forest itself had accepted his presence.

  At the same time, his fingers made a subtle pulling motion, and the demonic needle that had just claimed its first victim curved through the air and returned to him, hovering above his palm as it slowly revolved like a silent predator waiting for its next strike.

  “It was me.”

  The remaining warriors finally saw him clearly. A mask covered his face, dark and unmistakable—the same mask they had seen illustrated on the wanted posters distributed across several sect territories. For a brief moment, confusion flashed in their eyes.

  Then realisation struck them. The expression on their faces darkened immediately.

  “The Dark Ghost Devil…” one of them muttered under his breath.

  The five-star Master Warrior instinctively took a step back. His grip tightened around the sword in his hand as the stories he had heard rushed through his mind—the rumours of a practitioner warrior who had slaughtered opponents far stronger than himself.

  But pride quickly forced him to steady himself. In the next moment, he stepped forward again, forcing confidence into his voice.

  “Oh?” he said, trying to sound dismissive. “So you’re the Dark Ghost Devil?”

  His eyes scanned Eklavya carefully. “You’re just a practitioner warrior. I don’t believe someone at your level could kill elders and warriors in higher realms than you.”

  Eklavya tilted his head slightly, as though amused by the confidence in the warrior’s voice. A faint smile formed—calm and almost playful, yet carrying the quiet certainty of someone who had already decided how this encounter would end.

  “Oh?” he said casually. “You can try for yourself.”

  The demonic needle continued to rotate slowly above his palm. Its thin, dark body caught the dim light of the fire as it spun, releasing a faint yet unsettling aura that seemed to distort the air around it. One of the warriors suddenly noticed it. His eyes widened as recognition struck him.

  “Big brother… that’s a demonic needle.”

  The five-star Master Warrior turned his head sharply toward him. “Are you sure?”

  The man nodded quickly, his expression tightening with unease. “Yes. I saw a weapon like that illustrated in one of the ancient weapon records in the sect’s library.”

  The moment those words were spoken, the tension in the clearing thickened. Eklavya was not surprised.

  He had always known the weapon would eventually be recognised—either from the sinister aura it emitted or from the ancient records preserved in powerful sect libraries. But recognition alone meant nothing. Knowing the name of the weapon would not save them.

  Without warning, Eklavya moved. His figure blurred forward like a sudden gust of wind cutting across the clearing. Before the warrior who had spoken could even shift his stance, Eklavya had already appeared behind him. It happened so quickly that the man only realised it when he felt a hand touch the back of his head. Eklavya’s fingers closed around his skull. The warrior’s eyes widened in shock, but his body had no time to react.

  Eklavya tightened his grip. A sickening crack echoed through the clearing as bone shattered beneath the crushing force of his hand. The man’s skull collapsed instantly, his body going limp before it even had time to fall.

  The corpse dropped beside the flickering fire. The five-star Master Warrior barely managed to turn his head in time to witness the scene—the blur of movement, the sudden appearance behind his companion, and the brutal end that followed. Instinct screamed danger.

  He immediately stepped backwards, raising his sword as the remaining warriors did the same. Their earlier confidence had vanished. This was no longer a simple confrontation. This had become a fight for survival.