Re-birth: The Beginning after the End - Chapter 136

Chapter 136: HIDE & SEEK PART 2
Li Hao turned the forest into his playground, combining techniques with wild abandon. He leaped between branches using Phantom Step Concealment, each movement creating multiple afterimages that all carried different False Cores. Where Li Wei planned, Li Hao improvised—scattering pieces of his presence like bread crumbs, each one protected by an Illusory Presence that made them seem like shadows of shadows.

“Can’t catch what you can’t predict!” his voice echoed from three different directions as he spun through the canopy, each echo carrying a different spiritual signature thanks to his mastery of the Silent Scroll Method. His Dimensional Shifts were erratic but effective, his core flickering between realities as unpredictably as lightning. But even as he reveled in his chaos, he felt the weight of the forest’s attention. His techniques were brilliant, attention-grabbing—perfect for confusing normal pursuers, but against Grandmaster Yu? Against the realm itself?

Li Hua watched her brothers from spaces between spaces, her own techniques working in perfect harmony. The Still Lake Method kept her core absolutely motionless while the Breath of the World synchronized her energy with the forest’s natural flow. She observed how Li Wei’s careful constructions of Permission Barriers and Soul Reflections stood out against the forest’s natural rhythm—beautiful, but artificial. She saw how Li Hao’s brilliant chaos of Phantom Steps and False Cores drew the eye—effective, but too noticeable.

She remembered Lady Wei’s words about true concealment: “The leaf doesn’t try to hide from the branch. It simply exists as part of the tree.” So instead of layering technique upon technique, she let them merge into a single state of being. Her Empty Presence Technique didn’t just suppress her existence—it made her become part of the very fabric of the forest. Her Dimensional Shift wasn’t a technique she activated but a state she inhabited, existing perpetually between moments.

As dusk approached, she felt the forest’s curiosity deepen. The ancient trees didn’t just watch—they listened, felt, remembered. Her brothers moved through the forest, but she let the forest move through her. The transition between day and night became a dance of techniques, each sibling adapting their methods to the changing light.

Li Wei, ever methodical, began layering his techniques for nighttime concealment. His Permission Barrier shifted to account for the different spiritual resonances that darkness brought. He carefully adjusted his Soul Reflection traps, timing them to trigger based on the movement of shadows rather than light. His network of False Cores became more subtle—instead of mimicking daylight patterns, they now pulsed with the gentle rhythm of sleeping creatures.

From his chosen hollow between two ancient roots, he wove a complex array of protections. The Silent Scroll Method erased all traces of his cultivation from the space, while a carefully maintained Dimensional Shift kept his resting place slightly out of sync with reality. “Even if someone finds this spot,” he whispered to himself, fingers tracing final adjustments in the air, “they’ll see nothing but an empty hollow.”

Li Hao took a different approach to the night. His Phantom Step Concealment adapted to create echoes that moved like evening shadows, each one carrying a different variation of his False Core technique. He scattered himself through the canopy, using the Illusory Presence to make each version of himself seem like nothing more than branches swaying in the night breeze. His multiple presences dozed in different positions, each one protected by layers of Empty Presence that made them seem as natural as the darkness itself.

“Try finding the real me now,” his whispered challenge carried through the branches, each echo protected by a different Permission Barrier frequency. His chaos became quieter but no less complex—a symphony of techniques played in minor key.

But Li Hua?

She didn’t adapt her techniques to the night—she became the night itself. The Still Lake Method merged with the evening’s settling silence. The Breath of the World synchronized with the forest’s transition from day to night. Her Dimensional Shift wasn’t just between spaces anymore, but between moments of light and dark.

She didn’t need to maintain her techniques because she had transcended them. The Empty Presence Technique wasn’t something she was doing—it was something she had become. Where her brothers crafted elaborate protections for their rest, she simply existed as part of the forest’s dreaming.

From somewhere in the vast expanse of grey-tinged woods, she felt more than heard Grandmaster Yu’s movement. Not pursuing, not yet. Simply observing. Learning their patterns. Waiting.

The first night fell like a held breath finally released, each sibling’s techniques settling into their chosen rhythms of concealment. But while her brothers’ methods, however sophisticated, remained techniques they had to maintain, Li Hua had found something deeper—a way of being that required no maintenance at all.

By the third day, the hunt had changed its nature. The forest no longer felt neutral—it had become an active participant, and their techniques began to interact with it in unexpected ways.

Li Wei noticed it first, his scholarly mind catching the subtle shifts. His carefully maintained Permission Barriers began to waver, as if the realm itself was changing the rules of what constituted valid access. The Soul Reflection traps he’d set started showing true reflections instead of false ones, the forest turning his own technique against him. His network of False Cores, so meticulously crafted, began resonating with each other in patterns he hadn’t intended.

He crouched behind a massive trunk, fingers tracing calculations in the dirt. “The mist moves counter to thermal patterns,” he murmured, trying to adapt his Silent Scroll Method to the realm’s new behavior. “If I account for the realm’s interference…” But even as he layered Dimensional Shifts between his movements, he felt his advantage slipping. Each technique that had served him so well now left traces in the fabric of reality—mathematical fingerprints that anyone who understood the underlying patterns could read.

A leaf fell beside him—falling up instead of down.

Li Wei froze, his Permission Barrier shattering as he realized the truth. Every technique, no matter how perfectly executed, was still a technique. And the realm had learned to read them all.

The forest had betrayed him.

“Interesting solution,” Grandmaster Yu’s voice emerged from everywhere and nowhere. “Your Dimensional Shifts are precisely calculated, your False Cores mathematically perfect. Even your Empty Presence follows rigorous patterns. Quite innovative.”

Li Wei stood slowly, his mind still calculating escape routes, trying to layer his techniques in new ways. “The patterns,” he said, understanding dawning in his eyes. “You weren’t following my techniques. You were reading the underlying structure beneath them all.”

“You think ahead,” Grandmaster Yu’s tone carried approval, though he remained unseen. “But you are still within the boundaries of thought. Even the most sophisticated technique is still something separate from natural law.”

The air stilled.

Li Wei felt it then—how every Permission Barrier, every Soul Reflection, every carefully maintained False Core had been like writing his signature across the realm’s consciousness. His methodical nature, so useful in learning these techniques, had become a beacon to one who knew how to read such signs.

A presence behind him.

A touch on his shoulder.

“Found you.”