Chapter 137: Layers of Mist


    As the night deepened, Han Ming sat quietly in his room. Just before dawn, a faint noise outside his window stirred him from his stillness. His eyes snapped open, and in a flash, he slipped out through the door crack.


    He caught sight of a figure clad in black passing by his residence. Curiosity piqued, Han Ming watched as the figure moved further away. With a sudden leap, he propelled himself onto a tree, his movements as silent and fluid as a panther stalking its prey in the night. He darted from tree to tree, following the trail of the mysterious figure.


    "Such precise and swift movements, and dressed like that... Could they be from the Shadow Temple?" Han Ming''s heart sank with a sense of foreboding. The appearance of these individuals at this time was unsettling, and he couldn''t help but wonder what their intentions were.


    The black-clad figure moved swiftly through the magic academy, leaving no trace of their passage. Han Ming observed as the figure stopped in front of an ancient villa. A quick glance told him it was the residence of the academy''s vice president.


    Concealing himself among the leaves, Han Ming watched intently. The figure glanced around, ensuring no one was following, before slipping into the vice president''s home. A light flickered on in a previously dark room, revealing two figures seated at a table, deep in conversation.


    Han Ming strained to listen, but the villa was protected by a soundproofing spell. Not daring to get closer, he waited patiently.


    After what felt like the time it takes to eat a meal, the figure emerged from the villa, leaping onto the roof and disappearing into the night. Han Ming followed silently, trailing the figure to a large estate.


    The figure vaulted over the estate''s wall, and Han Ming, perched high above, watched as they entered a grand building. Through the open door, Han Ming saw at least a dozen other black-clad figures inside. It was clear now—they were indeed from the Shadow Temple.


    But why would the vice president of the magic academy be involved with them?


    As the door opened, one of the powerful figures inside suddenly looked up, locking eyes with Han Ming from afar.


    "Damn!" Realizing he''d been spotted, Han Ming leapt from the tree and sprinted back toward the magic academy. He glanced back to see the room now empty.


    A sense of danger washed over him. He tilted his head just in time to dodge a small flying dagger that whizzed past his face. A black-clad figure appeared beside him, matching his speed effortlessly.


    "Incredible speed!" Han Ming thought, alarmed. Few could keep up with him, and this figure''s skill was terrifying.


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    Dodging another attack, Han Ming scaled a hundred-meter-high building, reaching the rooftop in moments. The figure followed, thrusting a long blade toward Han Ming''s back. Han Ming deflected the attack with his elbow, countering with a strike aimed at the figure''s temple.


    The figure leaned back, narrowly avoiding the blow, and retaliated with a dark, non-reflective blade aimed at Han Ming''s throat. The move was so fast that Han Ming barely saw it. He ducked just in time, feeling the blade graze his scalp as a few strands of hair floated to the ground.


    The two engaged in a silent, deadly dance on the rooftop. To an outside observer, it would have seemed as though nothing was happening, but the intensity of their battle was palpable.


    Han Ming grew increasingly wary. This opponent was unlike any he''d faced before. The figure fought without using any energy, relying solely on physical prowess, yet still managed to hold the upper hand.


    What shocked Han Ming even more was that the figure''s strength appeared to be only at the fourth level, first stage of the War Soul realm. He''d faced War Souls before, but none who could match him without using energy.


    Their movements were a blur, with blades flashing and Han Ming''s clothes and hair being sliced apart. The figure remained untouched.


    "A true assassin," Han Ming thought, a grin spreading across his face despite the danger.


    The figure remained expressionless, focused solely on the fight.


    "Are you from the Shadow Temple? What are you planning?" Han Ming asked, dodging another strike.


    At the mention of the Shadow Temple, the figure hesitated for a moment before unleashing a wave of killing intent so intense that birds flying overhead were struck dead, their bodies falling to the rooftop.


    "So, you live only to kill. I guess getting information out of you is impossible," Han Ming said, his smile fading.


    The figure remained silent, but suddenly, a surge of wind energy erupted from their body.


    "Oh? Using energy now? Not worried about being detected anymore? Looks like you''re planning to end this quickly," Han Ming remarked.


    The figure ignored him, closing the distance with blinding speed. Their arms became a blur, and the blade was replaced by wind energy, slicing through Han Ming''s clothes.


    "Time to get serious," Han Ming said, his body enveloped in a faint blue magical aura.


    The figure''s eyes widened slightly as they felt the intense cold emanating from Han Ming. The two clashed again, but the figure''s movements began to slow as the cold seeped into their body.


    Han Ming gained the upper hand, and when their fists finally met, the figure''s hand turned blue and shattered into icy fragments.


    "You''ve lost," Han Ming said coldly.


    The figure stepped back, smashing their frozen hand and launching a wind-infused kick at Han Ming. Han Ming dodged, but the figure followed up with a headbutt, spitting two thin blades from their mouth. Han Ming blocked with a hand covered in blue ice, but the force of the impact pushed him back.


    "Incredible strength! You must hold a high position in the Shadow Temple," Han Ming thought, realizing the figure''s power was beyond his expectations.


    Seeing their attack fail, the figure turned to flee. But as they did, a massive ice net appeared in front of them, courtesy of Han Ming''s spirit companion, who had been quietly setting it up during the fight.


    The figure skidded to a halt, but Han Ming was already upon them, placing a hand on their neck. The figure froze as blue ice spread across their body, encasing their heart.


    With a cold expression, Han Ming withdrew his hand, and the figure collapsed, shattering into icy fragments. Han Ming searched the body, finding a set of clothes.


    "Palace guard?" Han Ming muttered, confused. He pulled out another set of clothes.


    "A magic robe?!" Han Ming''s heart raced. "Why would this person have both palace guard and mage attire?"