Chapter 172 - 79-84

079 Manly Emperor?

It had been a couple of days since we left Ironmoor City. The shadows of that place still lingered in my mind, but for now, we were in the clear. I had changed from my previous disguise and now wore the Lofty Jade Proposition. For a mere cosmetic item, it was surprisingly comfortable against my skin. More importantly, I only needed a thought to remove it, revealing my divine gear underneath—ready for battle in an instant.

Hei Mao no longer maintained the effects of the Disguise spell. He was back to his usual childish appearance, his red scarf wrapped around his neck. It fluttered slightly with the gentle breeze that passed through the Floating Dragon. The sight of him like this, relaxed and natural, was oddly reassuring.

Lu Gao, on the other hand, had not changed much. His disguise had never been too drastic, but I had to admit—shorter hair suited him. He sat in a corner, clutching the fishbowl, locked in a silent staring contest with Ren Jingyi. The fish remained as expressionless as ever, unblinking, while Lu Gao's eyes narrowed in intense focus. He was probably having an inner turmoil, since the fish raised her star once more… Sadly, my Divine Possession was on cooldown at that time.

Ren Xun had also swapped out his old attire, shedding the beggar-like merchant disguise he had used previously. Instead of the garish, eye-catching robes he had worn back in Yellow Dragon City, he had opted for something more neutral. It was a wise choice—low-key but not suspiciously plain.

And then there was Dave. He seemed far too comfortable in his new body, the Puppet Armor. It had been an experiment at best, yet he wore it with the ease of someone who had inhabited it for years. I had asked him if it was inconvenient, but he had waved off my concerns.

"I'm fine," he had said, his voice carrying the same familiar tone, despite the mechanical timbre the armor gave it. "Actually, I think I prefer it this way."

I didn't know whether I should be relieved or disturbed.

The Floating Dragon continued its course along the river, the rapids carrying us swiftly downstream. Ren Xun had been the one to suggest following the river's path.

"It'll be faster this way," he had reasoned. "The current boosts our speed. Less effort, and no need to rely solely on the ship's formations."

Sitting cross-legged on the deck, I turned to him. "Do you have any idea where the Shadow Clan is?"

Ren Xun merely shrugged. "Shouldn't be too hard to find."

"That's reassuring," I said dryly.

He smirked, rubbing his chin. "If we ask nicely enough, the local Lords should have the information we need. Unlike in Ironmoor City, they won't be as paranoid." He paused, then added, "Probably."

"Probably?"

Ren Xun sighed. "Ironmoor City had become a powder keg. Everyone was watching everyone else, ready to pounce. It's different in the outer territories. We might actually find someone willing to speak without trying to stab us in the back."

I wasn't sure if I should feel comforted or wary.

One of my few regrets about leaving Ironmoor City was that I never got the chance to poke around. There was a Demonic Cultivator lurking somewhere in that city, hiding in plain sight, and on top of that, a murderer was on the loose. Normally, these were the kind of things that would gnaw at my curiosity, but circumstances forced my hand—I had more pressing matters to attend to.

Still, the thought lingered.

I felt two gazes on me. Hei Mao and Dave.

As my Holy Spirits, they were bound to me on a cosmic level, their thoughts and feelings often overlapping with mine. They must have sensed my dissatisfaction, the nagging feeling of unfinished business.

I shrugged. "No big deal," I said casually. "We can always circle back later if we really need to."

Hei Mao tilted his head, his small face filled with uncharacteristic solemnity.

"But…" he hesitated, as if weighing his words.

I held up a hand. "I do have a prior obligation," I reminded him. "In case you forgot, I have a meeting with the Emperor in—"

"A hundred days?" Ren Xun interrupted with a smirk.

I nodded.

He shook his head. "Seventy-six days now."

I blinked. Right. Time had slipped away faster than I expected.

Hei Mao looked apologetic.

I waved off his concern. "Talking with the Shadow Clan and learning the truth shouldn't take that long."

Ren Xun folded his arms, considering my words. "As long as we leave ourselves at least a thirty-day leeway, we should be able to make it to the Imperial Capital on time."

I narrowed my eyes at him. Ren Xun had been surprisingly agreeable about this whole detour. Too agreeable. I leaned forward slightly, resting my chin on my knuckles.

"You're being awfully cooperative," I mused. "Should I be concerned? Would this get you in trouble?"

Ren Xun chuckled, shaking his head. "It should be fine," he assured me. "As far as anyone is concerned, you're free to do whatever you think is right."

"That's a very vague answer," I pointed out.

His smirk widened. "My status as the son of a prince gives me certain… protections." He waved a hand lazily. "Moreover, my Ren name carries a bit of weight."

I arched a brow. "You mean it gives you immunity?"

Ren Xun sighed. "Immunity is a strong word. Let's just say… invoking it might bring too much attention."

I hummed in thought. Having a prince's son with us was both an asset and a potential liability.

Gu Jie suddenly spoke up. "What's so special about the Ren name?"

Her voice was calm, but there was curiosity beneath her words. She wasn't the only one wondering.

From what I remembered, there was no such thing as a Ren Clan among the Seven Imperial Houses. It wasn't a name I had come across in any of the records detailing the great noble houses of the Empire. So why did Ren Xun speak of it as if it carried some sort of unspoken authority?

Before answering, Ren Xun tweaked the formations on the boat. A soft hum vibrated through the deck as the Floating Dragon shifted, its weight lifting. A moment later, we were flying.

"The rapids have slowed down," he explained offhandedly. "Might as well take the faster route."

He turned back to Gu Jie, folding his arms as he considered his words. "To understand the Ren name, you first have to understand the nature of the Empire itself."

That got my attention. This wasn't something I could find in books, so I listened well.

Ren Xun leaned against the railing. "The Grand Ascension Empire is unique," he said. "Throughout history, empires are built by dynasties, passed from one generation to another. The lineage of rulers dictates the continuation of a dynasty, and when one ends, another takes its place."

I nodded. That much was common knowledge. The rise and fall of empires was an inevitable cycle.

"But the Grand Emperor was different."

He glanced at us, eyes glinting with something unreadable. "On the day of his coronation, he declared himself both the beginning and the end of the Grand Ascension Empire. He claimed that there would be no dynasty after him, that his rule would persist until the end of time. That his death would mean the death of the Empire itself."

The weight of his words settled over us.

I scoffed. "That's arrogant."

Ren Xun chuckled. "You're not the only one who thought so. When he made that declaration, no one believed him. After all, no one can live forever. A cultivator can extend their lifespan, but there are limits. Even in the most ancient Taoist texts, it is said that while one may pursue longevity, true immortality is impossible."

"And then," he continued, "the first millennium passed… and the Grand Emperor remained. Looking no older than a middle-aged man."

Silence.

Even I had to admit, that was impressive. Inhumanly so.

Made me think if he was a vampire himself.

Lu Gao groaned, rubbing his temples. "Is this going to be another long lecture?"

Ren Xun faked a cough. "I was just getting to the point."

And then he continued his story:

The Seven Imperial Houses were powerful—too powerful, in fact. They were the Grand Emperor's limbs, but even a ruler's limbs could develop their own ambitions. They wanted power for themselves. That was their nature. To deny such an instinct would be an act of foolishness itself.

And so, after a thousand years of waiting, they schemed.

They tried to manipulate the Emperor, hoping that his long life had softened his mind. They disguised their ambitions behind flowery words and high-minded ideals. They spoke of the common people, of democracy, of the need for a new system. They urged him to step down, claiming it was time to pass the throne to the next generation, to evolve beyond the tyranny of a single ruler.

At first, the Grand Emperor ignored them.

Then he grew annoyed.

And when the Grand Emperor became annoyed… he acted.

"For the first time in his thousand-year reign," Ren Xun said, "he took women to his bed."

I nearly choked. "Wait, what?"

Ren Xun's lips twitched. "You heard me."

"No, no, I mean—are you telling me that for a thousand years, the Grand Emperor was a virgin?"

It was a stupid question. I knew my priorities were completely out of place, but… I couldn't help it.

Hei Mao stared at me in horror. Lu Gao remained impassive. Gu Jie had a complicated expression on her face, as if she, too, couldn't quite decide how to react.

Ren Xun, for his part, gave a helpless shrug. "It's true. The Emperor possessed restraint beyond mortal comprehension. For a thousand years, he remained untouched by the pleasures of the flesh. Some would call him a great hero among heroes for such discipline."

I wasn't sure if I was supposed to be impressed or terrified.

"But," Ren Xun continued, "when the Seven Imperial Houses grew too loud, he finally lost his patience. And so, in a single night, he bedded the most powerful women from each of the Seven Imperial Houses."

Silence.

"…You're telling me his solution to court politics was to—?"

"Yes."

"…And that worked?"

Ren Xun smirked. "It worked perfectly."

Each of the seven women bore him a child, and the Grand Emperor, ever the pragmatist, used this to his advantage. He granted each child a vast territory to govern, forcing the Seven Imperial Houses to focus on their own bloodlines.

In an instant, the imperial court—once a nest of scheming snakes—turned into a battlefield of succession.

Instead of plotting against the Emperor, they now fought amongst themselves.

However, the story didn't end there.

"The Emperor," Ren Xun said, eyes gleaming with amusement, "was feeling particularly petty. And so, he made another declaration."

I raised an eyebrow. "What kind of declaration?"

"He declared that the common people deserved a representative as well."

"…What?"

Ren Xun's smirk widened. "And so, in front of the gathered court, on the golden throne of the Empire itself, the Grand Emperor bedded a commoner woman."

Dead silence.

Gu Jie looked deeply disturbed.

Hei Mao, despite being a Holy Spirit, was blushing furiously.

Lu Gao remained unshaken—clearly, he had heard this story before.

I, meanwhile, was still trying to process what I had just heard. "Hold on. You're telling me he did the deed in the throne room? In front of everyone?"

Ren Xun nodded. "Demonstrating his bravery."

That… that was certainly a way to describe it.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "…And let me guess. The child that came from this act of 'bravery' was—?"

Ren Xun nodded. "My father."

I stared at him.

"The Emperor gave him the Ren surname," Ren Xun said. "He then declared that should his son, Ren Jin, suffer an untimely death or any unfortunate calamity, he would eradicate the Seven Imperial Houses."

And that, I realized, was the real masterstroke.

It wasn't enough to force the imperial Houses into infighting. The Grand Emperor made them protect the very child who symbolized everything they hated. With a single move, he turned their power against them, ensuring that none would dare lay a finger on Ren Jin.

No wonder the Ren name carried weight. No wonder Ren Xun claimed he could act as freely as he did.

"…Your grandfather is a terrifying man," I muttered.

Ren Xun laughed. "That, Senior Da Wei, is an understatement."

I imagined that, in reality, the Seven Imperial Houses were simply waiting for the Emperor to die while preserving their own power. The Black Clan was probably no different.

Ren Xun eventually brought the Floating Dragon down under the cover of trees.

"There's a city a few kilometers from here," he said. "I'll go gather information. You all stay here."

Gu Jie frowned. "Are you sure that's wise? The last time we split up, we got tangled up in Ironmoor and wasted days."

Ren Xun waved her concern away. "I know the lord of this city. His father was a good friend of mine."

I pulled out a set of Magic Scrolls, handing one to each of them.

"These are Great Teleportation scrolls," I said. "If anything goes wrong, use them to get back here immediately."

Gu Jie cupped her fists and bowed. "I will not fail this task."

Dave thumped his metal chest before leaping off the boat.

Ren Xun smirked. "Thanks, Senior. I'll be back soon with good news.."

I watched as the three of them disappeared into the trees, leaving me to my thoughts.

"Dave, listen up."

I activated Voice Chat, connecting to Dave. His presence flickered into my awareness, a faint thread of will intertwining with my own.

"I need you to debrief Ren Xun about the vampires. Give him every detail we have. Whoever's pulling the strings needs to be stopped, and I can't be everywhere at once."

"Understood, My Lord." There was a pause before Dave responded. "Does His Lordship want him to spread the word?"

"Exactly. We need the leaders of Deepmoor Continent to be aware of what's coming. Whether they believe it or not, they have to make preparations. Vampires aren't just monsters—they're a force capable of reshaping the balance of power. Even if we don't know whether we were dealing with the real stuff, it still wouldn't hurt to be cautious."

Dave let out a short hum of acknowledgment. "I'll do my best to make a convincing case, My Lord. Ren Xun's got connections, and his words won't be ignored. But My Lord do realize this could stir up a lot of unwanted attention?"

I exhaled slowly. "That's the idea. Better they prepare for a war that never comes than wake up to a battlefield they can't escape."

"Fair point. I'll handle it." Dave's presence faded from my awareness as he focused on the task at hand. "Take care, My Lord."

I hoped… I was just being paranoid.

080 The Life of a Fish

Ren Jingyi was a fish.

She had been a fish for a long time. She did not know how long exactly, because the concept of time was mostly irrelevant to a fish. There was only the flow of water, the warmth of the sun, the cool embrace of the moon, and the never-ending cycle of eating, swimming, and staring at things.

Right now, she was staring.

The fishbowl was clear, but the world beyond it was strange and distorted. The large figure holding him—Lu Gao—had a serious face, his gaze locked onto Ren Jingyi's own unblinking fish eyes. It was a silent contest of wills. A battle between predator and prey? No. A battle between two beings bound by fate? Perhaps.

Ren Jingyi did not think too hard about it. Thinking was not a fish's strong suit.

She swam forward, then backward, then in a lazy circle before stopping to stare once more. Lu Gao had not moved.

Life, as a fish, was simple.

She had few desires. She liked eating, and thankfully, the humans remembered to feed her. She liked swimming, and the water in her fishbowl was always fresh. She liked the sun, though it only reached her when she was placed near a window or when the Floating Dragon drifted into open sky. She also liked staring at things, though she wasn't quite sure why.

Perhaps it was instinct. A fish's natural curiosity.

Or perhaps it was because, deep down, Ren Jingyi knew she was not an ordinary fish.

There were flashes—memories that didn't belong to a simple creature of water. Moments when her mind felt too vast, when understanding came too easily. She did not know what she had once been, but she knew this: she was not born to live in a bowl.

Still, she did not struggle.

It was because she liked her bowl very much.

The humans took care of her. Da Wei, the one who radiated divine presence, had a peculiar fondness for her. Lu Gao, her current holder, treated her with a quiet reverence. The new kid, Hei Mao, sometimes poked at her bowl, watching her as if expecting something miraculous to happen.

They all had their own ways of showing attention to her.

Even the smug guy—Ren Xun—had given her a strange look when they first met, as if trying to solve a puzzle he didn't quite understand. But out of all of them, her Big Sister Gu Jie was the one she cherished most. Steady, reliable, and always carrying herself with an air of quiet strength, Gu Jie made Ren Jingyi feel safe in this strange world. If she had a choice, she would always swim toward her Big Sister's presence, drawn to the warmth and reassurance it provided.

They were her family.

Ren Jingyi did not mind even if they weren't fish.

She flicked her tail, sending ripples through the water. Small bubbles rose to the surface.

Yes, life as a fish was simple.

But recently, things had started to change.

Ren Jingyi was growing. She could feel it in the way her body stretched, in the way her appetite surged with every passing day. If not for the confines of her bowl, she was certain she would have already outgrown her current form. It was an uncomfortable truth, one she wished she could ignore.

Worse still, there was that strange phenomenon occurring within her.

Whenever she had a sudden funny thought or felt particularly full, something inside her stirred—a burst of warmth, like a hidden star igniting in her core. The first time it happened, she had been startled, nearly flipping herself over in the water. It was a strange sensation, one she didn't particularly enjoy. Every time it happened, she would grow, and every time she grew, her hunger became more unbearable.

She didn't want to grow.

If she grew too much, would she still fit in her bowl? And if she couldn't stay in her bowl, where would she go? The outside world was too vast, too uncertain. Here, in the gentle sway of her water, she felt safe.

A shadow loomed over her. Lu Gao was staring again, his expression unreadable.

"Jingyi," he muttered, eyes narrowing slightly. "Is something wrong? Did you get fat again?"

She wished she could answer. She understood his words, yet no matter how much she longed to reply, all that came out were bubbles. Because she was a fish.

Sometimes, she wished her family were fish too.

If Lu Gao were a fish, then maybe he would understand her. If Big Sister Gu Jie were a fish, then… maybe they could share a bowl. Wouldn't that be nice? Floating together in the same little space, away from all the overwhelming vastness of the world?

Maybe?

Before she could dwell too much on that thought, Lu Gao sighed and turned away.

"He still won't talk to me," he muttered, rubbing his forehead.

"I keep telling you," Da Wei's voice rang out from nearby. "She's a fish, man. But I understand your frustration. I want to talk fish too."

Lu Gao called over Hei Mao.

"Come talk to her," he said, gesturing at the bowl. "You're the only one who can understand her."

Ren Jingyi tensed.

Hei Mao could talk to fish. Or at least, he could talk to her. And if he could talk to her, then…

Would he find out?

Would he learn that she was purposely holding back? That despite the hunger gnawing at her insides, she was stopping herself from eating too much, afraid of what would happen if she grew too big?

She didn't want them to know.

Because then, they might try to change her mind.

Hei Mao walked over, tilting his head as he looked into her bowl.

"What's the problem?" he asked.

Ren Jingyi would have sighed if fish could sigh.

Most of them couldn't understand her, which was fine. It kept her thoughts to herself, hidden in the little world of her bowl. But Hei Mao was different. For some reason, the new kid could talk fish. And right now, she wasn't sure she wanted to be talked to.

She felt… claustrophobic.

Which was ironic, considering the biggest, clunkiest person in their group—Dai Fu—the always-reliable Big Sister Gu Jie, and the smug Ren Xun had already left for a mission. The boat wasn't crowded anymore. It should've felt more open, more comfortable.

But it didn't.

Her scales prickled as she thought about it. Maybe it was because of this feeling inside her, the one that kept bursting like little stars, trying to push her to grow. Maybe it was because she didn't want to grow.

Ren Jingyi missed her Big Sister Gu Jie already.

She didn't really understand why they left, only that it was probably for a mission His Eminence had bestowed upon them. Not that she fully grasped what His Eminence wanted most of the time, but she knew one thing—he was the highest authority here.

Even so, she recognized him as Master, because Big Sister Gu Jie did the same. And if Big Sister did it, then it had to be right.

A finger reached toward her bowl.

"Don't poke the fish," Lu Gao warned.

Hei Mao looked guilty, pulling his hand back. "I wasn't going to poke her," he defended himself. Then, as if to make up for the suspicion, he added, "The fish is uuuhh… What's the word? Something is happening to the fish... like, she's getting fatter..."

His words made every one pause.

Even His Eminence, who had been quietly reading a book, stopped turning the pages and shifted his gaze toward her.

Ren Jingyi froze.

Why? Why did she always feel nervous when His Eminence looked at her? It wasn't that she feared him—no, not exactly—but every time his attention turned to her, she had this strange, inexplicable flashback.

A giant something, scooping fish like her out of the water.

She didn't know why she remembered that, or even if it was real.

All she knew was that every time she thought about it, she felt very, very small.

"Oh," muttered His Eminence, "She's really doing it, huh?"

Ren Jingyi was a fish, and she liked being a fish.

Life was simple. There was no need to hunt, no need to fight. Everything she needed was given to her, a bounty from her Master, His Eminence Da Wei.

She didn't have to think too hard. She didn't have to worry.

But that was the problem, wasn't it?

If she kept growing, she would outgrow her bowl. And if she outgrew her bowl, she wouldn't be able to enjoy being a fish anymore. She'd have to hunt for herself. She'd have to live like the others, struggling and striving.

She didn't want that.

Yet, despite her wishes, the feeling returned—that strange sensation in her core, like a tiny explosion of light.

A star formed inside her.

Hei Mao yelped. "The fish's presence is growing!"

Lu Gao, who had been calmly watching her, suddenly stiffened. "Incredible… She's raising her cultivation in such a short period of time."

Another pulse. Another star.

"No way," Lu Gao breathed. "She's raising another star again!"

Ren Jingyi fought against it. She tried to suppress the sensation, tried to stay small. But it was difficult. The stars kept forming inside her, one after another, spinning like little suns in the depths of her being.

Seventh Star.

Eighth Star.

Ninth Star.

And then—

She broke through.

Lu Gao gasped. "She's reached the Mind Enlightenment!"

Ren Jingyi didn't really get it. All she knew was that she was definitely bigger than before.

Fish life was a good life.

That was a fact for her.

But was she still a fish if she couldn't fit in her bowl?

Cracks spider-webbed across the glass. She barely had time to react before—

Shatter!

Her beloved bowl exploded into shimmering fragments. Water splashed everywhere, drenching Lu Gao and Hei Mao. For a moment, there was silence. Then—

"Ahhh! The fish is crying!" Hei Mao pointed in horror.

Ren Jingyi flopped helplessly on the deck of the Floating Dragon, gasping. She couldn't breathe!

Panic surged in her body. The world outside of water felt suffocating—like being wrapped in tight, suffocating air. She flailed, her gills burning.

"The fish is gonna die!" Hei Mao screamed. "She's gonna die!!"

Lu Gao was already moving, trying to scoop her up, but his hands were shaking. "Get water—do something! We need—"

"Enough."

Da Wei's voice cut through the chaos.

The deck stilled. Hei Mao froze mid-panic, mouth still open. Lu Gao held his breath.

Da Wei muttered something under his breath.

"Divine Word: Life."

A golden glow surged through the air, wrapping around Ren Jingyi like a warm current. The burning sensation in her gills faded. The suffocating tightness in her body loosened.

She gasped—and then, to her shock, she was breathing again.

On land.

Kind of.

It was a strange sensation. She wasn't quite breathing like a land creature, but neither was she suffocating like a fish out of water. It was as if the water inside her had merged with the air around her, allowing her to exist in this bizarre in-between state.

It felt wrong. But also… not deadly.

"I have a plan," Da Wei announced. "So calm down… and please don't accidentally step or slip on her."

Hei Mao, who had been hopping from foot to foot in panic, immediately froze in place, his foot hovering midair before he carefully placed it down.

Lu Gao exhaled in relief. "If it is you, Master... then there is nothing to be afraid of."

081 Need for Aquarium

I activated Voice Chat and reached out to Ren Xun.

"Get an aquarium."

There was a beat of silence before he responded, "Pardon?"

I sighed and gave him a quick rundown. "Ren Jingyi had broken through. Her fishbowl has exploded. She is now flopping on the deck, gasping like a fish out of water—literally. Lu Gao and Hei Mao are currently playing a desperate game of 'catch the slippery fish,' and I am standing here making sure no one accidentally steps on her. Also, I might be enjoying the sight of them desperately catching the fish too much."

"She what?" Ren Xun sounded incredulous.

"She outgrew her bowl," I said simply. "Awesome, right?"

I could practically hear him rubbing his temples on the other side. "That's not… Never mind. I just finished my meeting with the local lord, and I know the location of the Shadow Clan."

"Great," I said. "How long until you get back?"

"Give me a day at most. Several hours at the minimum. The city doesn't have much in glasswork, so getting a proper aquarium is going to take time and effort," Ren Xun explained.

I frowned. "No way to speed that up?"

"Unless you want to settle for a wooden tub, which I assume is not what you want—then no."

I considered it. Wooden tubs weren't exactly ideal for keeping a potentially evolving fish, but they'd do in an emergency. Still, I figured we could manage waiting for a day more.

"I've got enough mana to keep casting Cure at the flipping, flopping fish," I muttered.

On cue, Ren Jingyi slipped through Lu Gao's grasp again, landing with a wet plop on the deck. Lu Gao swore under his breath and dove after her, but she wiggled away.

Hei Mao, who for some reason could talk fish, was practically pleading with her.

"This isn't funny!" Hei Mao whined. "Stop making things harder for yourself!"

Ren Jingyi just flopped harder.

Lu Gao groaned. "Why is she so fast?!"

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Would you two just catch her already?"

Lu Gao and Hei Mao redoubled their efforts, but I had the sinking suspicion this was going to be a very long wait.

I had the distinct impression the fish was having too much fun.

While Lu Gao and Hei Mao flailed around, I casually walked to the side. Then, with a burst of superspeed, I snatched Ren Jingyi by the tail.

She froze.

I stared into her wide fish eyes, and I got the impression she wasn't having fun anymore.

"Alright," I said, holding her firmly. "You need to stay still so I can cast Cure on you."

She gave a tiny, pitiful wiggle but otherwise complied.

I let out a steady stream of Cure, feeling the gentle warmth of mana flow from my fingertips into her scales. I sat on the corner of the deck, still holding her, watching as the healing spell did its work.

Ren Jingyi had really grown.

She wasn't a tiny goldfish anymore. If anything, she resembled a carp now—sleek, elongated, but still with that delicate goldfish-like shape. She had stretched rather than bulked up.

Lu Gao, who had been kneeling on the deck, let out a long sigh. His expression was glum.

I raised an eyebrow. "What's the problem?"

He shook his head. "I failed you."

I frowned. "Failed me? What are you talking about?"

Lu Gao lowered his gaze. "I know why you picked me. It wasn't just because of my skills or my history. I was meant to be a reference for your cultivation."

I blinked.

Hmmm… I did say something like that when I took him under my wing.

Lu Gao clenched his fists. "I was supposed to be a useful benchmark, but I haven't even been able to help you make any progress. I—"

I cut him off with a scoff. "You make it sound like it's your fault I'm not making progress."

He looked up at me, surprised.

I exhaled and leaned back slightly. "Cultivation isn't some checklist where I can just copy-paste someone else's path. You're useful, sure, but you're not some measuring stick I'm gonna toss aside just because I haven't broken through yet."

Lu Gao looked conflicted but didn't argue.

I turned my attention back to Ren Jingyi, who was still limp in my grip, possibly contemplating her entire existence.

I sighed.

At this point, I had reached a level of mastery with the Hollow Breath Technique that allowed me to do it passively. It was second nature—like breathing, really.

And yet… still nothing in terms of cultivation.

I glanced at Lu Gao, his face a mess of conflicting emotions.

Then, out of nowhere, he said, "I don't deserve to learn from you."

I blinked. "Huh?"

He exhaled, his expression turning resolute. "I'd like to withdraw."

Withdraw?

I scoffed. "Withdraw from what?"

Lu Gao met my gaze, serious. "From being your student."

I laughed. Loudly.

"You think you have the option to withdraw?" I asked, shaking my head. "You're acting like this is some sect where you can politely hand in your resignation letter. Wait, sects don't even do that, right? They'd swear you to secrecy and would even cripple your cultivation… Wait, you are already crippled!"

He frowned. "But I—"

"No, no, no." I waved a hand dismissively. "Let's get one thing straight. I'm not teaching you as some kind of charity. Yeah, sure, in the beginning, maybe there was this tiny naive part of me that wanted to help people." I gave a dry chuckle. "But that was before I realized how useful you actually are."

Lu Gao flinched slightly.

I leaned forward, voice turning sharp. "You're a demon-possessed guy in a xianxia world. Do you have any idea how rare that makes you?" That practically made him a Quest NPC of sorts by LLO standards.

Lu Gao didn't respond, sweating nervously.

Well, more like he could not understand my insanity.

I continued. "You're a living lab rat—a unique one at that. The fact that I took you under my wing isn't just out of kindness. It's because you're valuable."

Lu Gao clenched his fists.

I sighed. "Look, I get it. You feel like you're not worthy or whatever. But let me remind you—you don't get a say in whether you continue learning or not." I gave him a pointed look. "Especially after experiencing my Divine Possession and promising you'd be walking this path with me."

His breath hitched.

Yeah. That got through to him.

Good.

"You are so mean," Hei Mao muttered, pouting as he sat cross-legged on the deck of the Floating Dragon. His red scarf fluttered slightly from the river breeze, emphasizing the childish grievance on his face.

I ignored him and glanced at Lu Gao, who had gone quiet. His brows were furrowed in deep thought, his hands clenched into fists over his knees. Then, as if coming to a decision, he shifted and moved to crouch.

I immediately knew what was coming next.

The moment his knees started to lower, a surge of irritation flared within me.

Without thinking, I grabbed his shoulder, stopping him before he could fully kneel. "Don't," I said flatly.

Lu Gao stiffened. He hesitated, then slowly straightened, confusion flickering in his eyes. "I—"

I sighed. "Just chalk it up to my eccentricity, but I really hate it when people bow or kneel so easily to another."

His expression flickered, and I could see the internal struggle written plainly on his face. He was from a world where respect was often measured by gestures like these, where inferiors knelt before their superiors without hesitation. But I wasn't a fan of that.

Sure, there were moments where bowing was appropriate—out of sincerity, out of genuine devotion—but groveling over something as small as misspeaking? That was just excessive.

I vaguely recalled an idiom that fits this situation—something about gold beneath one's knees and the idea that a person should only kneel for sacred reasons.

Gu Jie kowtowing and pleading with me in her mental scape was a different matter entirely. That had been… well, complicated. But this?

I let go of Lu Gao's shoulder and exhaled, shaking my head. "Just don't do that. It's unnecessary."

My original intention in revealing my Divine Possession had never been for charity or goodwill. It was an experiment—one meant to train, refine, and empower it. Theories I had about its potential were confirmed one by one, the most exciting being the ability to impart skills without needing Legacy Advancement Books, Skill Books, or Specialized NPCs. That realization alone had been a game-changer.

Thus, the birth of my Order of Paladins had come naturally.

Admittedly, the idea was only in its infancy.

Especially with the Legacy Advancement Book for the White Path still in my possession.

It could be argued inefficient for me to continue holding to it. Of course, it wasn't fair. Not in the slightest. When I revealed my Divine Possession, I made the others believe they were competing to prove themselves worthy of the White Path, but the truth?

I had already decided how I wanted to raise my kids—er, followers.

Yeah, it was a jerk move.

A healthy competition in a classroom setting would provoke development, right? That was at least the idea...

At first, I had intended to use the Legacy Advancement Book on Gu Jie, thinking she would be the best fit. But her unlocking the Warlock Legacy beforehand had changed everything. There was no undoing that choice, and I wasn't about to make her walk a path that conflicted with her nature.

As for Ren Jingyi? I had bigger plans for her. She was too special for something as simple as the White Path.

That left me with Lu Gao.

The perfect candidate.

"You're really something else, aren't you?" I said, clicking my tongue.

Lu Gao, who had just been looking guilty a moment ago, stiffened in confusion. "I—what?"

I shook my head, my expression shifting into one of exaggerated disappointment. "To think you would try to take advantage of my kindness like this. Shameful. Truly shameful."

Hei Mao, who had no idea what was going on, looked between us in visible confusion. "Wait… what did he do?"

Lu Gao's face paled. "I—I didn't mean—!"

I heaved a sigh and gave him a long, suffering look. "Unbelievable. I gave you everything, and now you want to leave me? Like a heartless scoundrel?"

Lu Gao opened his mouth, then closed it again, looking increasingly flustered.

Hei Mao looked even more confused. "Wait, wait, what's happening?!"

"It's betrayal, Hei Mao," I said, dramatically shaking my head. "Absolute, gut-wrenching betrayal. A wound so deep it can never heal."

Hei Mao gasped. "Lu Gao, how could you?!"

Lu Gao made a strangled noise. "I—That's not—!!"

Seeing his panicked expression, I finally cracked a grin and laughed, waving a hand dismissively. "Relax, I'm just messing with you."

Lu Gao looked at me like he wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or furious. "You—"

"That said," I cut in before he could recover, "you really don't get a say in whether you keep learning or not. I want to give more emphasis to that fact. You already learned the Bless spell from me, and you think you can just walk away? Nope. That's not how this works."

Lu Gao deflated. "...Right."

Hei Mao, still clearly lost, hesitated before awkwardly patting Lu Gao's shoulder. "Uh… there, there?"

I smirked. "That's right, Hei Mao. Comfort the poor guy. He just realized he's stuck with me forever."

"You are so mean," said Hei Mao a second time.

There was a thump against the Floating Dragon.

I blinked. Did someone just throw a rock at us?

A second later, my Divine Sense lazily swept outward, and I saw them. One, two, three… twenty-eight people.

Half of them were at Martial Tempering, a quarter at Mind Enlightenment, five at Will Reinforcement, one at Spirit Mystery, and one… at Soul Recognition AKA Fifth Realm.

My, my… they sure were ruining a moment.

I peered over the edge and found them staring back. I realized they were using some kind of formation, dampening my Divine Sense. The formation was probably not limited to my Divine Sense, but targeted at detection abilities in general like Qi Sense. The leader stood at the front—a tall man with sharp, chiseled features and a scar running across his lip. He would have been handsome if not for the scar giving him a permanent sneer.

"Greetings, the name is Deng Bai, and this fine boat is now mine," He took a step forward. "You have one chance."

I sighed dramatically, crossing my arms. "Really? You couldn't have waited? We were having a heartfelt conversation."

Hei Mao, standing beside me, burst into tears.

"I don't know how to fight!!" he wailed, clutching my sleeve like I was his last lifeline. "Like... I don't know any techniques! There's too many of them! And there's only three of us... and a fish."

"Have more trust in me, plus I am super strong," I sighed again. "Also, no one's expecting you to fight, Hei Mao."

"But they're gonna kill me!!"

I rubbed my temples. "Hei Mao, listen—"

"I'm just a kid!!"

"You're a powerful ghost who used to haunt people!"

Hei Mao sniffled. "That was different!"

I groaned. "Oh, for crying out loud—"

The leader watched this exchange with a deeply unamused expression. "Are you finished?"

I ignored him, activating Voice Chat instead.

"Dave, we've got a situation."

My Holy Spirit responded immediately. "Want me to head back, My Lord?"

"Nah. Stay put. I'll just use Castling."

Castling was normally limited by range, but if I used my Holy Spirit as the target… I could bypass that restriction entirely.

I turned back to Deng Bai and smiled mischievously.

"Say your last prayers, pal. Don't worry, I'll ask my friend to be gentle."

And then, I Castled.

082 Amen

"Be gentle with them," His Lordship said.

The moment those words faded, Dave's clunky Puppet Armor reappeared on the idle Floating Dragon. The swap was complete—His Lordship had taken his place elsewhere, leaving Dave to deal with the bandits below.

With a mere thought, a longsword materialized in his grip, its gleaming edge a testament to his innate abilities as a Holy Spirit. He flexed his fingers, testing the feel of his new body. This Puppet Armor—crafted with the magic of this world—was still unfamiliar, its weight and movements different from his previous form. There had been no real combat to test it yet. That would change now.

Dave stepped forward and leaped off the Floating Dragon.

The wind howled past him as he descended, the earth rushing up to meet him. When he landed, a cloud of dust billowed beneath his boots, spreading outward in a ring. The impact sent a tremor through the ground, enough to draw every pair of eyes in his direction.

He could feel their gazes—some wary, some dismissive. His presence was something unnatural to this world, but he had learned how to suppress it. With careful control, he adjusted his aura, settling it at the same level as the strongest among them. No need to scare them too much.

A man stepped forward. He was calm and measured—his posture relaxed, but not careless. A man who had seen his share of battles and had the confidence to show it. His eyes flickered over Dave's form with quiet intensity.

"I am Deng Bai," the man introduced himself. His tone carried authority, the kind born from strength rather than mere bravado.

Dave considered him for a moment, then gave a slight nod. "Dai Fu."

He followed His Lordship's instructions zealously. Adapting to this world's vernacular was a form of defense, a way to obscure their origins in this world vastly different from their own. The name was close enough to the one he was granted, yet unfamiliar enough to blend in.

Deng Bai's gaze lingered on him for a heartbeat longer before he smirked. "You move strangely, Dai Fu. Heavy, yet light. Are you a cultivator?"

Dave tilted his head. "Something like that."

"Hah~! Of course, you are..." Deng Bai's smirk deepened, his fingers flexing slightly. There was no mistaking it—he was ready to test him. "I am sorry, but I will be taking that ship."

Dave shifted his stance, feeling the weight of his new body, the energy flowing through it. This was what he needed—a real fight to measure his limits.

Deng Bai exhaled slowly, his gaze steady. "This is your last chance."

The bandits around him tensed, hands inching toward weapons, eyes narrowing with anticipation. The air between them hung heavy, crackling with the restrained energy of battle yet to begin.

Dave tilted his head, considering the words. Then, after a moment, he responded, "It's your last chance too." His voice was devoid of arrogance, merely stating a fact.

His fingers flexed slightly around his conjured longsword. "I might accidentally kill you all," he added, almost apologetically. "It's difficult for me to hold back."

The bandits scoffed. Some outright laughed. One of them, a burly man with a jagged scar down his cheek, sneered, "Big words for a walking pile of metal. I bet you move slow, because of that thing."

Dave ignored them. His Divine Sense spread outward like an unseen wave, sweeping through the battlefield. Twenty-eight bandits. Yet, at a glance, only twenty-two stood before him. Six others were hidden—scattered within the vegetation, their auras faint but not imperceptible. And one of them…

Without hesitation, Dave's left hand slammed downward.

A loud crack echoed as his fingers punched through the ground, stone and soil parting beneath his force. His hand found flesh, grasping something warm and struggling.

A choked gasp escaped as Dave dragged a man up from the dirt—a cultivator, his body wreathed in faint, rippling distortions. A Spirit Mystery realm expert.

Cultivators at that stage always had unique abilities. If it were His Lordship here, he would've been curious to see what exactly made them special. But this was not a time for experimentation.

The Spirit Mystery cultivator barely had time to gasp before Dave's fingers tightened around his throat. Without giving the enemy a chance to react, Dave surged forward, using the man as a human shield.

"Attack!" Deng Bai's command rang through the night.

The bandits reacted instantly. Those capable of casting elemental projectiles raised their Qi, channeling fire, wind, and lightning into their palms. Spells flared, ready to be unleashed—

Too slow.

By the time their spells ignited, Dave was already among them.

He discarded his longsword, letting it fade into motes of light, and conjured a spear instead. With a fluid motion, he drove the weapon straight through his human shield's abdomen.

The spear did not stop.

With sheer force, Dave hurled the impaled body forward. The momentum carried both weapon and corpse into the ranks of the waiting bandits. The Spirit Mystery cultivator's body crashed through their line like a boulder through reeds.

Four men were caught in the trajectory—

Two Mind Enlightenment cultivators.One Martial Tempering cultivator.One Will Reinforcement cultivator.The result? A bandit kebab.

The spear drove through all four bodies, pinning them together in a grotesque display. The brief, stunned silence that followed was broken only by the wet, sickening sounds of bodies slumping to the ground.

Then, as the spear vanished into motes of light, Dave summoned a great axe in its place.

His grip tightened around the haft. His gaze swept over the remaining bandits.

Softly, barely above a whisper, he murmured—

"…I am sorry."

How many were left?

A quick mental calculation—thirteen Martial Tempering, five Mind Enlightenment, four Will Reinforcement, and one Soul Recognition.

Twenty-two in total.

Deng Bai, standing at the forefront, brandished his sword, the blade humming with an ominous light. His expression darkened as he took a deep breath, his Qi surging around him.

"Kill him!" he bellowed.

Without hesitation, the bandits moved as one.

Deng Bai himself vanished, his body dissolving into a flurry of yellow blossoms—a movement technique so swift that he seemed to flicker between the petals.

"You are courting death!" he roared, his voice bloodthirsty, laced with killing intent.

His blade arced toward Dave's neck. A fatal strike.

But Dave did not flinch.

He simply reached out—and caught Deng Bai's throat mid-air.

The momentum of the bandit leader's attack was instantly halted, his body jerking to a stop with a sharp, strangled sound. His fingers spasmed around his sword, eyes widening in disbelief.

Dave tilted his head. "You are too slow."

Then, he slammed Deng Bai into the ground.

The force of the impact shattered the earth, sending cracks rippling outward like a spiderweb. A dull thud echoed through the battlefield as Deng Bai's body crumpled into the dirt.

Dead? Alive? Dave couldn't tell. It didn't matter.

He exhaled internally. This was disappointing.

He had wanted to test the spell formations embedded within his blue cape, to see if they had any practical use in real combat. But his opponents…

They were not a good benchmark.

Dave finally let out a real presence—but not his own.

Instead, he allowed the Puppet Armor's aura to emerge, its strength settling at approximately the Seventh Realm.

The effect was instantaneous.

A ripple of fear passed through the remaining bandits. Their once-determined expressions crumbled, their knees buckling under the weight of the pressure.

One by one, they let go of their weapons.

Swords and spears clattered to the ground as cultivators dropped to their knees, pressing their foreheads against the dirt in submission.

Only the remaining Will Reinforcement cultivators—those still hidden—made a desperate decision.

They ran.

Dave glanced at the great axe in his grip—the weapon he hadn't even used. With a thought, it dissolved into motes of golden light.

In its place, he conjured a great bow, its massive frame shimmering with a faint divine glow. He had no arrows—he didn't need any.

The remaining Will Reinforcement cultivators were still running.

"It's futile," he said, "None of you are going anywhere."

Dave spread his Divine Sense, sweeping across the battlefield. There they were.

With fluid precision, he pulled back the bowstring, forming a radiant arrow of energy.

Thwip!

The first arrow pierced through a fleeing bandit's knee. A scream tore through the night.

Without pause, Dave nocked another arrow.

Thwip!

The second bandit collapsed, each arrow lodged in both his knee and shoulder.

Then the third arrow.

The fourth arrow.

The eighth arrow.

Eight arrows. Four fallen bandits.

Each one now writhed on the ground, clutching their wounds, unable to continue their escape. Dave dismissed the bow, letting it fade from existence.

He turned his gaze upward and called out, "Lu Gao, throw a rope."

Silence.

Lu Gao and Hei Mao were still on the Floating Dragon, staring down in sheer disbelief. Their faces were frozen somewhere between awe and shock.

Dave tilted his head. Did they not hear him?

Lu Gao shook himself out of it first. Without hesitation, he grabbed a roll's worth of rope and dropped it over the side.

The rope unraveled down, swaying gently in the wind.

Dave stepped over to Deng Bai's motionless body. The bandit leader still wasn't moving. Was he dead?

Dave placed a hand over his chest and cast Great Cure.

A soft golden glow enveloped Deng Bai, sinking into his body. Surprisingly, it worked.

His wounds sealed. His breath evened out. His eyes fluttered open.

Without a word, Dave grabbed the rope and tied him up.

Then, he turned to one of the Mind Enlightenment cultivators who had surrendered.

"You," Dave said, pointing at him. "Tie yourself to the rope. Then pass it to the next person."

The bandit blinked rapidly, his expression flabbergasted.

One after another, the bandits fell in line, securing themselves to the rope.

Motivated not by loyalty, nor by hope—

But by the real possibility of death.

Dave walked toward the spot where the bandit kebab had once stood.

Now, the bodies sprawled lifelessly on the earth, no longer skewered together. The spear was gone, vanished with the rest of his conjured weapons, leaving only blood-stained soil behind.

He crouched down and placed a hand over them, casting Great Cure.

A faint golden light spread over their broken forms, seeping into their wounds. Seconds passed.

Only one of them stirred.

The Spirit Mystery cultivator.

Dave tilted his head, surprised. He had assumed they were all dead, yet this one still clung to life. Impressive vitality.

His Lordship would probably feel conflicted seeing people he had indirectly killed. Of course, killing wrongdoers wasn't beneath Dave. It was tasteless killing weaklings though... Still... If there was a way to avoid unnecessary deaths, it was better to take that path with hopes of redeeming the individual. However, sometimes, there was just no helping it.

Dave reached down and grabbed the unconscious Spirit Mystery cultivator, dragging him toward the rope. With practiced ease, he secured him tightly alongside Deng Bai.

Next, Dave turned to the four Will Reinforcement cultivators who had tried to escape earlier. They still lay on the ground, clutching their injured limbs, too weak to move properly.

One by one, Dave dragged them to the rope, tying them up as well.

He glanced at his work. The bindings were pointless.

If any of them truly wanted to break free, the rope alone wouldn't stop them. Their cultivation levels made such restraints laughable.

However...

Dave was here

That was enough.

None of them dared to try anything.

The air was still thick with the scent of blood.

Gu Jie, as graceful as she usually was, now struggled clumsily with the weight of the aquarium, her arms wrapped awkwardly around its glass walls. Inside, Ren Jingyi swam in slow circles, her tail flicking in agitation as water sloshed over the rim with every step.

Ren Xun trailed behind, glancing around with wide eyes at the aftermath of the battle.

And His Lordship—

His gaze swept over the scene. Over the brutalized cultivators. Over the ones still groaning in pain, tied together by a rope that was more symbolic than anything. Over the lifeless bodies still strewn across the battlefield.

Dave turned to him.

"My Lord, permission to use my Divine Word—Raise."

His Lordship's expression remained unreadable. Then, slowly, he shook his head.

Dave didn't expect such a reaction. But still…

He had thought His Lordship might at least consider using one of his consumable resurrection items. Yet, after a moment of silence, His Lordship only spoke a single command.

"Let's bury them."

Dave watched him for a long moment.

It was hard to tell what His Lord was thinking, but Dave had seen the hesitation—the smallest flicker of something buried deep in his expression.

Regret? Resignation? Something else?

If His Lord had wanted, the dead men and women could have been restored to life. Yet, in the end, he chose not to.

Dave reached out, gently stopping him before he could move forward.

"Allow me."

His Lordship glanced at him, then nodded.

"Thank you."

He did not say anything else. Instead, he simply stood there, watching.

Dave might not have known His Lord's story, nor the kind of life he had led before arriving in this world.

But he understood the emotions coursing through His Lord's heart.

Perhaps, out of everyone, Dave was the closest to truly understanding His Lordship.

And yet—

At the same time, he couldn't.

Because Dave lived for the fight.

He had taken many lives before.

And no matter how much he tried to understand, there would always be a chasm between them.

The dead were buried.

There were no words spoken over their graves, no incense burned in their memory. Just the cold, silent weight of the earth settling over their bodies, marking the end of their existence.

After the dead were buried, Dave and Ren Xun left, guiding the prisoners toward the nearest city. The journey was uneventful.

The handover was swift.

Authorities took one look at the battered, broken cultivators—some still groaning, others staring blankly at the ground in silent resignation—and didn't ask too many questions.

With their task complete, they left.

The Floating Dragon rose into the sky, drifting like a ghostly vessel above the landscape before shooting forward in a blur of motion.

Dave stood at the edge of the deck, looking out at the vast horizon. Then, his gaze drifted toward His Lordship.

The Voice.

The one that had whispered to him, guided him, and accompanied him for so long.

Dave thought back to Joan—to their conversations, to the way she used to theorize about their existence.

"We are manifestations of the Voices we hear," Joan had once said, her words filled with conviction. "We are their best qualities, made real."

Back then, Dave hadn't cared much for the idea.

But now—seeing His Lord in the flesh, breathing, existing, making choices of his own—

Maybe Joan had a point.

Still, he disagreed with her.

She believed that they were the best qualities of the Voices they followed. But Dave had always believed the opposite.

The Voice itself was the best version of them.

The ideal.

The guide.

A truth to be followed, as long as one had the will to do so.

Yet… His Lordship's attitude challenged that very belief.

He wasn't perfect.

Dave had always assumed that His Lordship, the one who had shaped him, was beyond doubt, beyond hesitation, beyond weakness.

But now, he saw the cracks.

Dave knew conflict when he saw one.

And His Lordship was in conflict with himself.

It was something Dave had to acknowledge sooner rather than later.

As the Floating Dragon warped forward, cutting through the skies in an instant, Dave felt something through their connection—a glimpse of something hidden deep in His Lord's heart.

A silent prayer.

It was so intimate and deeply personal that even Dave, as a Holy Spirit, could barely grasp its meaning.

Yet he heard something.

A whisper.

A single word.

"Amen," His Lordship said.

083 Lion's Roar

May the dead find peace beyond this life.

May they find redemption on the other side.

And may whatever awaits them be kinder than the lives they lived.

Amen.

I let out a slow breath as I internally whispered my silent prayer.

Why pray?

For some, it was a way to seek strength.

For others, a way to seek forgiveness.

And for probably a lot of people, it was just a way to look for answers.

Me?

I didn't really know.

To save my soul? Nah. Too soon.

To ease my conscience? …Dunno.

As far as I was concerned, my conscience was clean.

Or maybe I just felt pity.

I kind of wished they had better endings.

When I first came to this world, survival had been my highest priority. Nothing else mattered but making it to the next day. I tried to make smart choices, but no amount of wisdom stats would cure what the heart wanted, wouldn't it?

That was how I came to doing Paladin-stuff—helping people, fighting the bad guys, standing up for whatever justice I could believe in.

I was never in it because I thought I was a hero. Not because I had some grand destiny. I was not that delusional. Some people just do stuff, because they could. I didn't have any noble ideals. I just didn't like feeling shitty when it came to it.

Simply put, I couldn't bear to do nothing when I could do something.

So… why didn't I bother using my skills or items to bring those bandits back?

It wasn't about justice, morality, or being smart. It was human selfishness at its finest. I'm not perfect. I'm fully aware of it. Sometimes, I'm inconsistent. Other times, I'm just spontaneously naive. And other times, I could be selfish.

I had people I cared about now.

I wouldn't use them as an excuse for what I did. The murders I caused were on me.

But still—

It was for my sake that I chose to be selfish. That was the point.

The warp finished.

The Floating Dragon emerged from the twisting void of space, stabilizing as the world settled back into focus. Beneath us stretched a vast, foggy lake.

I turned to Ren Xun, arms crossed, and asked, "What's going to happen to the bandits?"

His expression was neutral as he recounted. "I found some of their wanted posters back in the city. Their leader?" He exhaled through his nose. "Probably a death sentence. He had a long list of crimes under his name."

That wasn't surprising.

"And the others?"

"Labor camps, most likely." He shrugged. "They weren't innocent, but they weren't worth executing either. The law will decide the rest."

I frowned slightly. "Were they connected to any Abyssal Clans?"

Ren Xun shook his head. "If they were, that's the Black Clan's business. They're the ones in charge of law enforcement on Deepmoor Continent."

I considered that for a moment before shrugging. "Guess that's out of our hands, then."

Justice, punishment—whatever happened next, it wasn't my concern.

Dave, who had been silent for a while, suddenly spoke up. "Are you fine, My Lord?"

I frowned at him. "…What are you up to?"

His tone had been careful—too careful.

Dave tilted his head slightly, unreadable behind that featureless Puppet Armor. "I am simply asking."

I sighed. "I'm fine."

If he had anything else to say, he didn't push it.

Meanwhile, Gu Jie gently placed the aquarium by the mast, the water inside shifting as Ren Jingyi swam in slow, lazy circles. The fish blinked at me.

On the starboard side, Hei Mao and Lu Gao leaned over the railing, staring out at the foggy lake ahead. The mist stretched endlessly across the water, shifting in slow, eerie swirls.

I turned back to Ren Xun. "Where's the Shadow Clan? How long will it take to reach them?"

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he gestured toward the lake.

"We're here."

I blinked. "What?"

"This is the place."

I narrowed my eyes at the thick fog, trying to see past it. Nothing. No structures, no land, no hidden passageways. Just endless mist rolling over the water's surface.

Ren Xun continued, "There's a spell formation concealing their territory. Now that I am seeing it firsthand, oh man… this is gonna be a pain in the ass… I'll need time to decipher it."

"…How long?"

"Weeks. Maybe months."

I raised an eyebrow. "That complicated, huh?"

Ren Xun nodded. "It's not just any formation. The structure is layered, and from what I can already sense, it actively shifts its patterns to prevent unwanted entry."

I crossed my arms, thinking. Ren Xun was low-key very good with formations, even if he didn't boast about it.

Admittedly, I didn't have a good reference for how skilled he truly was. However, the fact that he could analyze formations from a distance and make confident assessments already spoke volumes about his competence.

Still, weeks to months was a long time.

Gu Jie folded her arms and tilted her head. "Master, wouldn't we waste a lot of time waiting, then?"

I nodded and turned to Ren Xun. "What she said."

Ren Xun sighed. "It's not that simple." He pointed toward the dense fog below us. "Descending blindly would be dangerous. There's probably a maze hidden within, not to mention all sorts of spells designed to target the mind."

"And?" I prompted.

"And," he continued, "there are likely... other things in there."

I squinted at him. "Other things?"

"Creepy crawlies," he muttered. 

Now that caught my interest. A maze? Mind-affecting spells? Weird creatures lurking in the fog?

That sounded a whole lot like a dungeon.

And for some reason, that thought made me weirdly excited. The inner PvE player in me was itching to do something. It would be an understatement to say I was bored. I know I'm asking for trouble in looking for some excitement, but maaaan… boredom was a pain in the ass.

Still, there wasn't much point in going in blindly when I could just cheat.

I focused, extending my Divine Sense outward—and sure enough, I could detect something solid hidden within the fog.

An island, or at least something similar.

If I really wanted to, I could just jump straight onto it.

I shared my thoughts with Ren Xun.

The moment I did, a nervous tic twitched at his brow. "That… would be incredibly rude."

I frowned. "Since when do I care about being polite?" Sometimes, I just wanted to fuck around and find out… or something.

"Since now," he said firmly. "These people are hidden for a reason. If you suddenly drop into their territory like some brute, they might take that as an attack. I suggest we wait… They should have detected us by now, however, it will be up to them to welcome us or not."

Okay. Fair point.

"Also," he added, "what if there's a spatial trap? You might end up somewhere very, very bad."

…Oof.

I winced. That was also a very good point.

Now that I thought about it—yeah. Formations were terrifying.

Gu Jie wandered over to the starboard, peering down into the dense fog. Meanwhile, Lu Gao and Hei Mao had already lost interest in the discussion.

Lu Gao sat cross-legged on the deck, his hands resting on his knees, his breathing steady. Meditating. He was probably squeezing in some extra training, working on the Blessed Weapon spell I had assigned him. Meanwhile, Hei Mao sat by the fish, probably contemplating how he would broach the topic about his family to this people.

Gu Jie, still gazing downward, frowned slightly. "Master… I can feel it."

I turned to her. "Feel what?"

She didn't answer right away. Instead, she placed a hand over her heart, as if trying to still something within herself. "…Misfortune," she finally said. "From beneath the fog. It's thick… like resentment, grudge, and the like."

Ren Xun sighed. "That's not surprising."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"That presence could be coming from the spirits of dead Shadow Clan members—those who suffered the punishment of the Grand Emperor."

"…Or?" I prompted.

"Or," he continued, "it could be the remnants of challengers who dared to displace the Shadow Clan and failed."

Ah. That explained a lot.

Ren Xun glanced at the swirling mist below. "The Shadow Clan may be something of an offshoot branch of the Black Clan now, but they were once a major power." He looked at me seriously. "Don't underestimate them."

I leaned against the railing. "So, they're dangerous?"

"Extremely."

Ren Xun didn't usually emphasize things this much. That alone told me how cautious I needed to be.

At that moment, Dave stepped forward. "My Lord, shall I do reconnaissance?"

Considering his constitution and the fact that death was temporary for him, I understood why he was offering. If anyone could handle this without permanent consequences, it was Dave.

Still, I shook my head. "No. It'll do us better if we're polite… like Ren Xun said."

Ren Xun quipped, "For some reason, I feel like you are about to do something… er… wild… Senior…"

"Little Mao?" My gaze landed on Hei Mao, who was trying to act nonchalant. Too nonchalant.

His ears twitched slightly, betraying his feigned indifference.

Seeing me staring at him, Hei Mao sighed and finally took on a more serious expression. "I'll behave." He hesitated, then added, "I only wish to know why my family was targeted years ago."

I nodded. That much, at least, was fair.

We made this trip for him, but that didn't mean Hei Mao could act so shamelessly he'd do whatever he liked. Hei Mao understood that. If anything, this kid was raised right.

I turned back to Ren Xun. "Is there any decorum that must be followed on how to greet them?"

Ren Xun looked… confused. "…Senior, it should be fine to at least announce your presence."

I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with air.

Then, I roared.

"Esteemed members of the Shadow Clan!

"We come as guests, not foes.

"We seek an audience with those who govern these waters.

"May the path be opened to us, that we may speak with courtesy and respect!"

My voice thundered across the lake, carrying my greeting to the Shadow Clan.

It wasn't just any roar—I had used Lion's Roar, a sound technique I had read about. It was an entry-level technique, but that didn't mean it lacked power. Considerably, the power behind my roar was mostly supported by my stats alone. My voice surged outward, a martial technique and a sound technique combined.

The effect was immediate.

The fog shuddered as if startled, momentarily thinning under the force of my voice. Even the lake itself trembled, its surface rippling outward in a wide radius.

But the fog was stubborn.

A few seconds later, it regenerated, closing in again like a living thing.

I exhaled, watching the lake settle. "Hope they appreciate the effort."

Gu Jie blinked. "Master… was that really necessary?"

I shrugged. "Would you prefer I knocked? Where do I even knock?"

Ren Xun sighed. "Senior, I don't think that was knocking. That was more like… kicking the door off its hinges."

Dave chuckled. "A grand entrance is befitting of His Lordship."

I smirked. "Exactly. Gotta make an impression."

Lion's Roar was the closest thing I could find to Battlecry and Warcry from the War Path. I had always envied those abilities in melee classes back in LLO, so when I saw this technique, I thought, why not? Unlike cultivation methods, physical techniques seemed fair game for me as long as my stats could support them. Sound techniques were skirting the territory of non-physical techniques though.

A tense minute passed.

Then, finally, a response.

The lake shook again.

This time, the fog peeled away, parting to reveal a narrow, winding path leading toward an island hidden within.

At the same time, I felt something press against me— it was Qi Speech.

"The impudence!"

I noticed how the pressure behind the Qi Speech was making it difficult for the rest of my party members to breath. Trying to assert dominance, huh? I shrugged the pressure and then cast Bless on the rest of my party members.

It enabled them to withstand the pressure.

A voice resonated through the mist—deep, measured, and brimming with authority.

"Guests of unknown origin, you have called upon the Shadow Clan. The path has been opened. Step forward with respect, or turn back now."

The words carried an undeniable force, pressing against my chest like an invisible hand testing my strength. It was… ticklish…

But as the last syllable faded, the lingering echoes of my Lion's Roar still danced across the lake, sending ripples through the water. It was a bit awkward.

There was a moment of silence.

Then, a different, fainter voice muttered in the distance, as if coming from somewhere within the fog.

"...Did they just overpower Elder Yuan's Qi Speech?"

Another voice, more urgent, "Shut up! Do you want him to hear you?"

I blinked.

Gu Jie glanced at me, her lips twitching. "Master… I think you just embarrassed them."

Ren Xun let out a tired sigh. "Senior… That was unnecessary."

Dave, on the other hand, was grinning. "My Lord, that was very Paladin of you."

I raised an eyebrow. "You mean loud?"

"I mean righteous."

"...Right."

Even Dave was cracking jokes now. The world must be ending.

Shaking my head, I focused back on the cleared path. The fog had parted, and a dark and foreboding island lay ahead.

I gestured forward. "Keep sailing."

Ren Xun lowered the Floating Dragon onto the lake, its bulk settling just by a small wooden bridge that served as a harbor. The vessel barely made a ripple as it touched the water's surface—a testament to Ren Xun's control.

Waiting for us by the bridge was a lone old man, dressed in black and purple. His robes were deep in color, lined with faint, intricate patterns that seemed to shift under the dim light. His posture was relaxed, his hands hidden in his sleeves, but I wasn't fooled—this wasn't someone to underestimate.

And he wasn't as alone as he liked to present himself.

With my Divine Sense, I felt multiple presences lurking—some hidden beneath the lake, their qi faint as if they had merged with the water itself, while others skulked in the shadows of the nearby trees, their forms blending unnaturally well into the darkness.

Before I could say anything, Gu Jie stepped forward, her brows furrowed.

"Master, I detect no danger," she reported, her tone carrying an odd note of doubt.

I turned to her, raising a brow. "None?"

"None," she confirmed. "Not a single ounce of… misfortune. It's peculiar."

That was indeed peculiar.

Gu Jie had survived calamities that even made me balk, things that should have turned lesser cultivators to dust. Her instincts and senses were razor-sharp, refined through trials of blood and fire. And yet, she was detecting nothing.

Either the Shadow Clan had perfected their stealth arts to an absurd degree, or they genuinely didn't see us as threats.

I glanced back at the old man. His eyes were calm, studying us with an unreadable expression.

Then, he cupped his fist in greeting.

"This one is Hei Yuan of the Shadow Clan. May I ask whom I have the honor of welcoming?"

His voice was deep, but it held a certain fluidity, like silk over steel. His cultivation… from what I could sense, he was somewhere between Jiang Zhen and the fragment of the Heavenly Demon—which put him in the Sixth or Seventh Realm. Maybe even lower.

I returned the gesture, my own fist meeting my palm.

"I am Da Wei."

084 Hei Yuan

Whatever sound technique the visitor had used, Hei Yuan could ascertain that it was nothing inherently special—except for the raw, overwhelming power behind it. The sheer force had momentarily pushed back the ever-present fog, an impressive feat for such a rudimentary technique.

The boat artifact settled at the wooden harbor, its spells subtly distorting the figures within. Even with Hei Yuan's cultivation at the level of Essence Gathering, the Sixth Realm, he found it difficult to pierce through the defensive enchantments with his Qi Sense. The vessel itself bore complex spell formations, weaving an obscuring veil that clouded even his trained perception.

Of course, dispelling such formations would be a simple task for him, but to do so uninvited would be an act of provocation—one that the Shadow Clan could ill afford at this moment.

Hei Yuan was old, but not senile. Their patriarch had only recently entered deep seclusion, advancing through a crucial stage of cultivation. During this time, the clan had to tread carefully, lest external forces seek to exploit their moment of vulnerability.

As Hei Yuan observed, he felt a gaze settle on him. It was not one of hostility but of quiet evaluation. Calmly, he returned it with equal confidence.

Stepping forward with steady grace, he cupped his fists in greeting. His voice carried the dignity befitting a senior of the Shadow Clan, balanced between politeness and unyielding pride.

"This one is Hei Yuan of the Shadow Clan. May I ask whom I have the honor of welcoming?"

A figure stepped forward from the boat, his presence towering above the rest—not in height, but in sheer weight of existence. Even before the man spoke, Hei Yuan's eyes instinctively flickered downward.

The Shadow Clan carried an innate gift—the ability to perceive the shadows of others.

A person's shadow often reflected their strength. The greater their power, the larger their shadow. Even among powerful cultivators, the variance was clear—those with deep, refined foundations had shadows that loomed larger than their bodies, while the weak had barely a flicker beneath them.

Yet this Da Wei's shadow was… unreasonable.

It was massive, stretching and coiling like a titan walking among insects. Hei Yuan, a man who had lived for over centuries, could count on one hand the number of individuals whose shadows had unsettled him.

He schooled his expression, forcing a composed smile as the figure introduced himself.

"I am Da Wei."

A name Hei Yuan did not recognize.

He inhaled slowly, the old habits of a cautious man kicking in. If someone of such power had gone unnoticed by their intelligence network, then there were only two possibilities—either Da Wei had risen to prominence too quickly, or he had hidden himself too well.

Neither possibility was comforting.

Still, Hei Yuan had long learned to be measured in his approach. Lowering his gaze respectfully—though not too much—he spoke with steady politeness.

"Forgive my ignorance, esteemed guest. This old one has not heard of your name before. Might I inquire further about your esteemed self?"

His words were carefully chosen, his posture neutral. It was not submission, but recognition. If this Da Wei was truly as formidable as his shadow suggested, then the Shadow Clan could not afford to treat him lightly.

With a flicker of movement, Da Wei stepped onto the wooden harbor.

It was too fast—approaching instantaneous speeds.

Even with his centuries of experience and his cultivation at the Essence Gathering Realm, Hei Yuan found himself unable to fully perceive the moment Da Wei moved. There was no telltale disturbance in the air, no shift in Qi flow, and no flicker of spiritual energy that typically accompanied movement at such speeds. It was simply as if he had always been there.

Hei Yuan suppressed a frown. A gap in perception at his level was rare.

With a careful glance, he studied the man before him.

Da Wei's physique was lean but well-defined, a clear mark of a martial practitioner. His posture was effortless—neither overly rigid like a soldier nor undisciplined like an amateur. Every movement seemed purposeful yet relaxed, a contradiction that unsettled Hei Yuan the longer he observed.

But his presence…

It was perplexing.

He carried an aura that could be likened to that of a Taoist cultivator, filled with an almost imperceptible tranquility. At the same time, there were traces of something akin to Buddhist asceticism—a quiet, immovable steadiness. Yet for all that, it revealed nothing.

It should have been telling, but instead, it was the opposite—concerning.

The lack of fluctuation in Da Wei's Qi was unnatural. No ebb, no flow, no resonance with the world around him. It was as if he were a mere mortal.

A mortal that moved faster than Hei Yuan could track.

A mortal whose shadow stretched like a titan's.

A mortal with a life force so strong it felt like it could smother a room full of Spirit Mystery cultivators.

If Hei Yuan didn't know any better, he would have truly mistaken him for an ordinary man.

An uncannily handsome mortal at that.

Da Wei's features were… unbelievable. He had a jade-like complexion, a balance of softness and masculine angles, framed by short, dark hair that swayed gently with the lake's breeze. He wore elegant jade robes, subtly embroidered with cloud-like patterns.

And yet, despite his striking appearance, there was something odd about it. He wasn't the kind of handsome that drew immediate attention.

If one wasn't consciously looking at him, he would simply blend into the background, slipping past perception. A forgettable kind of perfection.

A contradiction.

One more to add to the growing list.

Hei Yuan was deep in thought when Da Wei suddenly spoke.

"Ah… my apologies."

The man's voice was smooth, carrying an easygoing charm as he glanced at the wooden planks beneath his feet. "I didn't mean to step onto your harbor without permission. That was rude of me."

He smiled—a polite, almost playful expression as if he had only just remembered basic decorum.

Then, with the same casual air, he continued.

"I hail from the Riverfall Continent. I'm currently making my way to the Imperial Capital for an audience with the Emperor."

His words were light, delivered effortlessly, as if he were merely mentioning the weather.

But to Hei Yuan, they carried the weight of implications.

The first thought that crossed Hei Yuan's mind was whether Da Wei was an imperial auditor.

Had one been sent to investigate them?

But no—that was impossible.

An imperial auditor had already visited the Shadow Clan a few months ago, and no word of a second inspection had reached them. The Emperor's enforcers weren't so inefficient as to send two separate agents in such a short span of time.

Then what was he doing here?

Hei Yuan kept his expression neutral, though his mind worked fast.

"May I ask for what purpose you've come to our territory?" he inquired, his tone polite but firm.

Da Wei, still wearing that unreadable smile, replied with an easy shrug.

"I fancy myself an adventurer," he said casually. "I've always been curious about the Shadow Clan, especially after hearing of your detailed history from a close friend."

At the mention of history, Hei Yuan's composure hardened.

His Qi tensed, his mind instantly shifting to hostility.

History? That was not something outsiders should concern themselves with.

But then—he hesitated.

He had been reminded, once again, of the gulf between their strength. No matter how he tried, he could not see through Da Wei's realm. That was proof enough.

Hei Yuan inhaled slowly, steadying himself. Then, keeping his tone polite but unyielding, he spoke:

"The Shadow Clan does not possess any glamorous history worth recounting, nor do we have any desire to welcome guests."

He cupped his fist, a gesture of respect, even as his words pushed Da Wei away.

"I must apologize, but I must ask you to leave."

He watched Da Wei carefully.

Would he accept the refusal? Would he take offense?

It was a risky move. Hei Yuan had no idea what Da Wei's temperament was like—but that only made it more important to test the waters.

After all, what was the logic behind greeting visitors so openly, only to turn them away?

It had everything to do with the Shadow Clan's spell formations.

If it came to it, he could simply eject these so-called visitors into the foggy maze, unleashing the killing array at the heart of the island.

Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that.

But then—Da Wei's expression changed.

The casual air around him vanished, replaced by a serious, almost solemn look.

"Is there a way I can have an audience with the Shadow Clan's patriarch?" he asked, his tone carrying a weight that wasn't there before.

At those words, Hei Yuan subtly activated Qi Speech.

The few Shadow Clan members hiding nearby received his silent message.

'Be ready. If it comes to a fight, we strike first.'

Hei Yuan's own stance did not change, but his presence became heavier.

"The Shadow Clan's patriarch is a busy man," he replied carefully. "He cannot spare a moment for just anyone."

He deliberately kept his words vague, measuring Da Wei's response.

Would he insist?

Would he force the issue?

Or… was he here for something else entirely?

Da Wei sighed, his shoulders loosening as he shook his head.

"Well, if that's the case, then there's no helping it."

His casual attitude returned effortlessly, as though he had merely shrugged off the conversation.

Hei Yuan only now realized the bead of sweat that had formed on his forehead.

Sweat?

For someone of his realm, that was impossible. His body should have long transcended such weaknesses. And yet, there it was.

He suppressed a frown. What kind of person was this Da Wei?

Meanwhile, Da Wei casually continued, "I'd be fine with speaking to anyone, really. As long as they know the history of the Shadow Clan or the Black Clan well enough."

Hei Yuan stiffened slightly.

The history of the Black Clan and Shadow Clan…

A past that stretched long before the current Abyssal Clan system even existed.

For Da Wei to specifically ask about that…

Hei Yuan's fingers twitched under his sleeves. Coincidence? Or something more?

A pause stretched between them before Hei Yuan exhaled and once again reaffirmed his stance.

His voice was polite but firm as steel.

"Then I must once again ask you to turn back. The Shadow Clan does not welcome tourists."

This time, he allowed a trace of spite to slip into his tone—just enough to express his growing dislike for this conversation.

If Da Wei noticed, he didn't care. Instead, he snapped his fingers, his expression lighting up as if he'd just had a revelation.

"Ah! I have an idea."

Hei Yuan felt a twitch in his brow.

This eccentric.

He resisted the urge to sigh and instead kept his gaze locked onto Da Wei, choosing to listen rather than immediately turn to violence.

"Let's make this simple," Da Wei continued with a grin. "We'll leave peacefully and won't bother you anymore... if you agree to one simple request."

Hei Yuan narrowed his eyes. "And what is that request?"

"Just answer a few questions."

Hei Yuan's lips pressed into a thin line.

"I make no promises to answer truthfully," he said coldly. "And I reserve the right to refuse."

Da Wei hummed thoughtfully. "Better than nothing."

Then, without waiting for further protest, he turned his head and called back toward the boat.

"Hei Mao, come here."

Hei Yuan's expression darkened the moment he heard the surname.

Hei.

A name shared by both the Black Clan and the Shadow Clan.

A name burdened with history.

Then, a figure leaped down from the boat—a dark-haired young man in ragged black robes.

Around his neck, a beautiful red scarf embroidered with the symbol of a black cat fluttered slightly from the motion.

And when Hei Yuan studied his face…

There was no doubt about it.

This Hei Mao was undoubtedly one of their own.

And then it struck him as… odd…

Hei Yuan gulped audibly. His throat felt tight. His entire body tensed, his fingers twitching ever so slightly beneath his robes.

For a brief moment—a terrifying moment—he nearly knelt right there and then.

The resemblance was uncanny.

The young man standing before him…

Hei Mao.

His face, his posture, even the sharp intensity in his gaze—it was all eerily similar to the late Shadow Clan Patriarch.

The same patriarch who had vanished long ago, neither confirmed dead nor alive.

Hei Yuan's heart pounded against his ribs.

No.

It couldn't be.

The late patriarch wasn't dead. Just missing.

Then who was this young man?

His mind was in turmoil, confusion battling against instinct.

His vision sharpened, focusing on the calm yet penetrating gaze of Da Wei.

The man was studying him. Inspecting him like an insect under a magnifying glass.

Hei Yuan barely managed to suppress the violent surge of emotions welling within him.

For a single irrational instant, he felt the urge to lash out at Da Wei.

Yet he did not.

He controlled himself. Forced his thoughts into order.

Taking a slow breath, he kept his expression neutral and finally spoke.

"Who is this young man?"

His voice was steady. Almost.

Da Wei's lips curled into a slight, knowing smile.

"This is Hei Mao," he introduced smoothly. "He's a friend."

Hei Yuan narrowed his eyes.

A friend?

Before he could press further, Da Wei casually added, "He's the one who'll be asking the questions. I hope you answer truthfully, because it matters a lot to this young man…"

A pause.

Hei Yuan turned his gaze to the boy—no, the young man—standing before him.

Hei Mao's expression was firm, his eyes resolute, unwavering.

Even without actively probing, Hei Yuan could sense his cultivation.

Spirit Mystery Realm.

Not particularly strong, but not weak either.

…And yet, strength was not the issue here.

Hei Yuan swallowed down his unease and gave a slow nod.

"Ask away."

Hei Mao did not hesitate.

His voice was calm, yet there was something heavy behind it.

"Do you know about the black-masked people?"

Hei Yuan's heart sank.

His hands, hidden within his sleeves, curled into tight fists.

So it really was about that…

There was no doubt about it now.

This had everything to do with the shared past of the Black Clan and the Shadow Clan.

With their predecessor.

With the long-buried truth of the Abyss Clan.