Now that his focus skill only gently pushed into the forefront instead of activating on its own, it was a lot easier for Nyx to discern his own emotional state and whatever bled into it from the skill. That did not mean that he was in full control or had an easy time maintaining a level head. Currently, the skill projected a surge of anger at the indignation the three Spear Saint Mountain group members had shown him.

  Instead of falling for his taunts and chasing him, much like the other two had done earlier today, they had quietly conferred amongst one another and left in a hurry.

  It would have been easy for him to abuse that fact and hide for the remainder of the night, but instead, Nyx found himself running across the roof, sliding off the steep end, and jumping gracefully onto a nearby building before doing the same with a tree that covered a large portion of the distance between another group of houses. The skill guided him with anger and a clear understanding of his physical limitations, which made him feel like a hunter chasing prey.

  As he bridged the gap by swinging off an elastic tree branch, he spotted the source of the Spear Saint Mountain group’s distraction. They were fighting someone else. Maybe they had not even noticed Nyx’s involvement in the disappearance of two of their members? After all, who would have reported back? They were already stuck in confinement.

  His anger wanted him to join the fight, and he could feel impatience pushing against him more and more as he stood and observed. The group was herding their target closer toward the direction of a nearby house. It was a natural path of escape for their target. Sol pushed his focus skill’s impatience and anger down and wrestled control back. Entering a fight would mark him as the aggressor, meaning he would be punished for starting it. He would prefer to observe and provoke them when he got the chance.

  Hurriedly, he scaled the roof with less grace but much the same speed as before and jumped onto the next tree. From there, he climbed to its crown and shoved aside a particularly thick branch to unlock a prime viewing spot.

  In the wide-open meadow below, the group cornered their target further and now moved to block its movement from all sides. At least six of them were actively fighting, poking at the demon, which seemed to be about a head shorter than them, with their spears.

  His focus skill gently pushed again to be unleashed, but Nyx suppressed it further instead. He knew their target as soon as he heard its screams of anger. Rax’Rathos was furious. Their constant barrages of spear jabs without truly engaging him had made him lose his cool. The younger demon’s skin was glowing a bright crimson red, shimmering ever so slightly in the moonlight. Spear jabs seemed to jerk away from him wherever they made contact, and the younger demon did not seem to be injured—only frustrated.

  Nyx remembered his conversation with Nox’Rictus. Even if he went to fight alongside Rax’Rathos, the pride of the Aurelius Vox would view this as an insult and mockery rather than support. As much as he wanted to, and as much as his focus skill seemed to push him toward fighting, it would not be well received.

  The fight was not one-sided, though. On his way toward the nearby housing spots, the young master had managed to wedge away a spear and was now retaliating with strikes of his own. Nyx knew from experience that his spearmanship was not the greatest; however, two members of the Spear Saint Mountain group would likely disagree with his assessment. One had his head bashed with a terrifying crack that resounded throughout the area—his body was immediately received by a black mist and transported away—while the other had been hit with a well-timed counter and made to stumble, only for Rax’Rathos to angrily catch up to him and descend upon him with a flurry of enhanced blows.

  Nyx observed the exchange and noted the subtle shifts in footwork that Rax’Rathos employed to avoid the brunt of the force in the blows the group rained down on him over time. Some of it was similar to what Nyx had experienced when he had fought Azrx’Ibahros—quick feints and changes of direction made it almost impossible to predict what he was trying to do. The group was clearly trying to exhaust him, with senior members standing on the further edges, waiting to step in.

  Their goal was likely to humiliate him as they had done with Nox’Rictus. The grim reality was that it would cost them a lot more members if they wanted to achieve that outcome. They already had nine people involved in the fight, with two of them knocked out and whisked away for punishment, which meant that their group would be a lot smaller in the coming days regardless of success.

  Rax’Rathos was slowing down his pace and was notably trying to conserve his energy in the fight when he disappeared out of sight for Nyx’Sol. The bushes and treeline he had vanished behind would connect to a row of homes without granting much more insight, so Nyx decided to bail from his spot and reposition, regardless of the risk involved. He descended the branches, gently prodding his focus skill to help him with the jump onto the nearby roof, but all he received was a feeling of displeasure.

  Nyx pushed harder but was unable to nudge his skill into action. Frustrated, he let out a low growl. Glancing at the nearby roof, he judged the distance and the roof tiles. They looked slippery, the roof crappy and uneven, but the distance did not seem too bad. Even the next house in the distance looked manageable with a running jump. He flexed his claws impatiently. Descend? Or continue quickly?

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  Since he did not want to miss any more of the fight, Nyx took a two-step running start to vault over the edge of the roof—almost flying off the steep edges twice—and kept his momentum going toward the next house with a mad dash. However, the facade quickly seemed a lot taller and further away than he had initially assumed. Trapped in the motion for a running jump, he was unable to stop, lest he careen into the abyss between the two houses because of his momentum. He jumped.

  Two seconds later, his chest impacted the wall, his hands trying to find purchase on the roof tiles without luck. As he slid off, his chin slammed into the edge of the roof, sending a sharp pain through his head and spine. He fell backward, two stories down toward the ground. His fall was stopped momentarily by a wooden roof that connected the two homes, flipping Nyx over and sending him toward the ground, twisted on his side. A sharp pain now ran through his back and right arm.

  Breathing heavily, Nyx cursed at himself. He should not have tried that without his skill. What experience did he have climbing roofs? None. Idiot. He dry-heaved, exhaled, and pushed his body upwards, wanting to stand rather than sit or lie down. He was immediately greeted by a dizzy headache, and his diaphragm locked up, refusing to let him breathe. Nyx desperately gasped for the wind that had been pushed from his chest and found himself unable to. Instead, a pathetic wheeze escaped him, and only slow breathing through his nose gradually steadied his condition, loosening his shocked body to obey. The increasing feeling of having too little oxygen only exacerbated the situation.

  The mocking pout of his focus skill did not help to improve his mood. Whose side was it on!? Nyx responded by sending his raw emotional state of pain and betrayal as he reflected inward to check on his body. His focus skill immediately activated with apologetic regret and guided his damage assessment. It did so while maintaining a careful distance.

  Nyx felt his Qi carefully prodding outside of its channels, nudging his muscles and bones to glean their state. While it took quite a bit of energy to do so, he quickly realized that he just had some bruises and no broken bones. Glancing upwards, he realized that he had been quite lucky. Without the roof to capture his fall, he could have easily broken something. Furthermore, his decision to just jump might have been foolish in hindsight. He could have slowed down and taken a more measured approach—jumped onto the roof below, grabbed hold of a window or a protruding support beam, or even taken the fall in a controlled manner.

  He sighed. At least nobody had seen his blunder. Nyx would have been more than a little angry if the Spear Saint Mountain group had exploited the moment to thoroughly destroy him. With gritted teeth, he rounded the house, careful not to get spotted. It turned out that he need not have worried.

  Rax’Rathos was standing in the connecting plaza between four homes. His height had increased, now standing a solid sixty centimeters above his former size. His skin was no longer crimson and defiant but burned with solid orange and white flames. His clothes had caught fire at his back and shoulders, revealing the heavily trained body below. His right claw held the neck of an unconscious demon, while his left gripped another by the throat—no, by the face—squeezing him into submission. His weapon—a short dagger mounted on his wrist—bounced off Rax’Rathos with a metallic sound.

  Nyx glanced around to spot the remaining group members, but a painfully yelled, “I yield!” recaptured his attention.

  Immediately, Rax’Rathos and his two victims were cast in a thick cloud of moving shadows. A few seconds later, they were gone. Nyx had missed the fight.

  Even though he immediately jumped to investigate the area, only a burning bush, a tree, and a few cracks in the pavement bore witness that a fight had ever taken place. In fact, the cracks were already mending, and the fire slowly died out, revealing pristine and spotless leaves. The Skin Tempering Garden mended itself.

  Sol chastised himself again for being so careless. If he had not failed that jump or had simply decided to observe the fight from the ground level immediately... His claws dug painfully into his hands. Despite his aching body, he was burning for a fight. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, he would take down as many of the Spear Saint Mountain group as he could. If Rax’Rathos wanted to lose seven days’ worth of training when he had an ongoing challenge with him, demanded by an elder of the sect, then Nyx could do nothing but follow suit.

  His focus skill gently affirmed his choice, sending a powerful pulse of enthusiasm.

  The weapon he had observed the last Spear Saint Mountain member use against Rax’Rathos gave him some ideas already. Since there were still a couple of hours remaining until the safety hours, Nyx quickly hurried toward a nearby home that was not currently being ‘argued’ over.

  He then proceeded to spend his time either cultivating under the watchful eye of a rather concerned homeowner or discussing current politics and possible solutions—or cultivation techniques—with more enthusiastic ones. Overall, he thought he left a polite impression and continued to sneak out into the furthest outskirts shortly before safety time.

  Then, he wedged himself into a familiar dirt hole, hungrily munched on a cold piece of meat, and continued his prior cultivation efforts in peace. His focus skill guided his development rapidly, improving his Qi intake even further. It made him realize that he was quickly approaching the limit of what would be possible. Storing some Yin energy in his scales, his body temperature remained toasty and comfortable throughout the night, even after taking off his necklace. He was not sure how effectively he could utilize the stored energy, but he wanted to be as prepared as possible.

  Then, he focused the remainder of his Qi pool to shapeshift his claws, turning them from simple bone knuckles into a sharper and more dangerous tool. He crafted a part of his bone mass into needle-like protrusions that were hollow on the inside—both to conserve some mass to retain a solid defense for his fists and for more nefarious means.

  A few of his attempts turned out too brittle and broke too easily, but he was finished and had moved the needles to stick flatly to his forearm before even a quarter of his Qi pool had disappeared. Then, he burned through the remainder in order to change as many of his skin cells as he could. By the time Sol collapsed against the damp earthen floor, his entire right arm and parts of his chest were covered in scales.

  Sleep caught up to him moments later and whisked him away into darkness.