The Martial Unity

Eighteen months breezed by as Rui secluded himself in training. This was not outside of Rui's expectations when he had first set up the three projects that he was going to work on while under the Silent Shadow's guidance.

The largest consumer of his time was, of course, the Phantomind Project. There wasn't the slightest shred of doubt in his mind that this project was going to become one of his most powerful techniques to date.

It didn't take a genius to figure that out. Not only was it attuned to Rui's strengths. not only was it an entirely unique concept attuned to the knowledge of his past life, but it was a highly individualized technique that only he could use.

To say that he expected much from the technique was an understatement. The ordinary version of the technique that he had set out to create alone took nine months, while the beefed-up version took an additional nine months.

Countless hours of imagination and self-programming and even a certain amount of self-programming went into forging the technique in his mind. His Mind Palace had needed to be extended a bit, so he relied on absorbing the Shadow Isles into his mind as a part of the Mind Palace to accommodate the massive amounts of data that needed to be stored for the technique. The volume of the data exceeded even the VOID algorithm.

It took what felt like forever to create the technique, meditating for countless hours as his mind furiously chugged away.

After a long year and a half, he had finally arrived.

With three new techniques at hand.

Lycanthropic Mask, the disguise technique that he had mastered.

Sympathetic Death Lance, the close-range version of Death's Sympathy.

And the Phantomind Void technique.

"Fuuu..." Rui exhaled deeply as he stared at a fortress in the distance.

were scarred with wounds. Wounds from conflicts of the past. Yet

was said to be the most impregnable stronghold anywhere in the entirety

few locations that not even the assassins that once scourged the Shadow Isles could penetrate. Now that even they were gone, it was

of training in darker arts after his cleansing of the Shadow Isles and another half year

yet he seemed to have grown sharper. A darker

he was standing

very next, he had disappeared, rushing

out to deny a

didn't

straight towards the fortress

Artists on guard and patrol didn't seem

wasn't quite

only did they not

the extent of it

Martial Artists of the Lower Realms seemed to not notice him despite him rushing

unable to

seemed to avert their gaze from him to the opposite

as if they saw something else

what they

one

his eyes, the silent fortress stood in

other direction that he was approaching it from. A giant blade of wind loomed over the fortress threatening to wipe out not just the fortress,

was the power of a