Isshin was running out of time.
If he wanted the Divine Sword Sect to trust him enough to let him attempt the Thousand Strike Thunder, he needed to act quickly.
Before he could come up with another move, they ran into another group.
Ninefold Path.
No one drew their weapons, but the tension was obvious. The air between the two sides felt heavy, like something could start at any moment.
Isshin leaned slightly toward one of the senior disciples. "What's going on between them?"
The disciple lowered his voice. "Their territory borders ours. There have been fights… ambushes. It's getting worse."
That explained it.
If things continued like this, a clash during the thunder cultivation was almost guaranteed.
The Ninefold Path elder stepped forward, his gaze passing over the group before pausing briefly.
"I see some of your people are missing," he said. "Unfortunate."
The Divine Sword Sect elder didn't react. "We were unlucky. But we've identified the culprits."
He gestured slightly toward Isshin.
"We're now wary of the Wudang Sect."
Isshin didn't expect that.
The attention shifted to him immediately.
Staying silent would only make it worse.
He stepped forward.
"My name is Neil. Fourth-stage Nascent Soul. I don't belong to any sect."
That was enough.
Both sides reacted.
A sectless cultivator at his level wasn't common.
He could feel it.
They both wanted him.
That worked in his favor.
Instead of questioning him, they started measuring his value.
The two elders exchanged a few more words before parting, but the Ninefold Path didn't take their eyes off him until they left.
As they continued walking, the elder spoke again.
"You won't stay sectless forever. Join us."
Isshin didn't answer right away.
"I might," he said. "But I came here for something else. The Thousand Strike Thunder."
The elder understood.
Some of the inner disciples didn't like it.
It showed.
They wanted that opportunity for themselves.
But the elder didn't care about that.
"Prove yourself in the next few days," he said. "Then we'll decide."
That night, they set up camp.
Isshin felt it immediately.
Something was off.
He went to the elder quietly. "There might be trouble tonight."
The elder didn't question it too much, but he stayed alert.
Isshin returned to his tent and sat down.
He began cultivating.
On the surface, everything looked normal.
But Raijin's system kept part of his awareness active.
Time passed.
The camp went silent.
Around two in the morning, three figures moved.
One inner disciple.
Two outer disciples.
They stopped outside Isshin's tent, watching.
Waiting.
Isshin didn't move.
The inner disciple gave the signal.
The sword came down.
Isshin reacted instantly.
He caught the blade with both hands, forcing it off its path. Blood ran down his palms as the sword scraped past his face and slammed into the ground.
The noise woke the camp.
The two outer disciples rushed in.
They didn't make it far.
The air shifted.
Three figures appeared, formed from qi, carrying overwhelming pressure.
They moved at the same time.
The attackers were disarmed before they could react.
The elder stepped out, followed by the others.
"Wait! I can explain!" the inner disciple shouted.
The elder looked at him coldly. "Explain what?"
"He attacked me first!"
"Then why are you here?" the elder asked.
Silence.
That was enough.
The elder turned to Isshin. "What do you want done?"
Isshin thought about it.
Killing them would create problems.
Letting them go would be worse.
"I don't want them dead," he said. "Take their resources. Seal their cultivation for a while. That's enough."
The elder nodded.
It was reasonable.
He began forming a seal.
It took time.
When it was done, the light sank into their bodies.
Their auras collapsed immediately.
Three months.
They wouldn't be able to cultivate.
The inner disciple's face went pale.
Around them, some of the others reacted quietly.
"Told you," one muttered. "He was going to cause trouble."
"Always thought he was above everyone," another said.
"Not anymore," someone else added.
The elder turned away. "Take them."
The crowd started to disperse.
The noise faded.
Isshin stood inside his tent, looking at his hands as they slowly healed.
On the surface, everything had worked.
The sect trusted him more.
His chance at the Thousand Strike Thunder was closer.