085 Tea Time
There was no need to invite trouble.
That was Hei Yuan's immediate thought.
So, instead of answering, he deflected.
With well-practiced ease, he lied through his teeth, his voice smooth as polished jade.
"Black-masked people? Are you referring to robbers and thieves, Young Master?"
It was a blatant misdirection, but it was the safest route.
Hei Mao's expression visibly deflated.
That reaction alone told Hei Yuan that the boy was not some cunning schemer.
A slight pause.
Hei Yuan made a quick decision. If he wanted to probe further, he needed to appear agreeable.
So, with a polite tone and a small, ingratiating smile, he addressed the young man properly this time. Hei Yuan emphasized the term 'Young Master', hoping to appear agreeable to the young man.
"Young Master Hei Mao, if I may ask—why do you seek these masked men?"
Hei Mao hesitated.
His gaze flickered toward Da Wei, as if silently asking for permission.
Da Wei merely shrugged, "It's your story to tell."
Hei Yuan observed the exchange carefully.
Up until now, he had seen Hei Mao as a young man with potential, someone with a promising future given his cultivation.
But now…
Now, he saw the truth.
Hei Mao was still just a boy.
A boy who wore his heart on his sleeve, too earnest, too sincere.
Hei Yuan's suspicions grew.
What kind of story was hidden behind this question?
Hei Mao took a deep breath as if preparing himself.
Then, he looked at Hei Yuan.
…And then he looked at Da Wei again, uncertainty flickering in his eyes.
"I… I don't even know where to start."
A beat of silence.
"Wait a sec."
Da Wei's voice broke the moment.
With a casual wave of his hand, an ornate table and two chairs appeared out of thin air.
The craftsmanship was exquisite, carved from darkwood and inlaid with delicate golden patterns.
Hei Yuan's eyebrows lifted slightly. Even for a cultivator, producing something of such quality so effortlessly was no small feat. Seriously, though… Was it really necessary to have furniture in one's storage ring? It seemed excessive.
Da Wei gestured to the seats, his tone polite but firm.
"For Elder Hei Yuan to understand Hei Mao's question, he must first learn the context."
His lips curled into a faint smile.
"Please, take a seat."
Hei Yuan sat down, his posture composed but his mind alert.
Hei Mao followed suit, seating himself across from him.
Da Wei, standing between them, waved his hand once more.
With an effortless motion, a tea set materialized atop the table.
It was… unusual.
The teapot was not made of jade or porcelain, nor was it adorned with calligraphy or auspicious symbols like the ones Hei Yuan was used to. Instead, it had a simple, rustic elegance—smooth, dark clay shaped with an artisan's care, the edges slightly uneven, as if hand-molded. The cups were small and delicate but lacked the refinement of what one would find in noble courts or sect halls.
Hei Yuan narrowed his eyes slightly. This was not the work of a cultivator.
Da Wei poured the tea for each of them, the steam rising lazily into the air.
Hei Yuan discreetly scanned the liquid with his Qi Sense.
Nothing.
No odd fluctuations, no traces of poison, no hidden formations.
…Was this really just ordinary tea?
Hei Yuan still hesitated, but etiquette dictated that he at least acknowledge the gesture.
He nodded toward Da Wei.
"Many thanks."
With practiced ease, he brought the cup near his lips, but didn't drink.
Instead, he waited.
His amulet, a relic refined by Shadow Clan alchemists, would glow if the tea was laced with any harmful substances.
A few breaths passed.
The amulet remained dull.
Hei Yuan finally took a small sip.
…It was fine.
Not exquisite, not terrible—just fine.
In fact, it was disturbingly ordinary.
Too ordinary.
There was no Qi infusion, no medicinal benefits, no subtle notes of spirit herbs. It tasted like something a mortal would brew.
Hei Yuan's eyebrow twitched.
Da Wei, watching him, suddenly smirked.
"Oh, it's exactly as you suspect. It's just tea made by mortal hands," Da Wei said, as if reading his thoughts.
His voice carried the slightest hint of amusement.
"It was advertised as the finest tea in Riverfall Continent, though. Honestly, I kind of liked it. What do you think?"
Hei Yuan had to fight the urge to put the cup down in disgust.
He had been made to drink mortal goods?
A cultivator of his realm partaking in something so… mundane?
He resisted the impulse to lambast Da Wei for this insult, instead forcing himself to remain composed.
Still, he would not let it sit in his body.
Without a word, Hei Yuan drew upon his Qi, subtly guiding the tea's essence out of his system.
A faint layer of perspiration gathered at the back of his neck as the liquid evaporated from his pores.
Across the table, Hei Mao casually remarked:
"I don't drink tea."
Da Wei's smirk widened.
"More for me, then," he said cheerfully, taking another sip.
Of course.
This man was an eccentric through and through.
Then, suddenly—
"Ah!"
Da Wei let out a soft yelping noise, as if just remembering something.
With a flick of his wrist, a plate of candied fruits appeared before Hei Mao.
The fruits were glossy, vibrant, coated in a thin layer of crystallized syrup.
Da Wei pushed the plate forward, his expression expectant.
"Here. Try these instead."
Hei Mao looked at them for a moment before shrugging.
"I wouldn't mind a taste."
With another flick of his hand, Da Wei produced a transparent glass and filled it with chilled tea, the amber liquid swirling as condensation formed on the surface.
He set it aside for Hei Mao.
Hei Yuan observed the scene with a neutral expression, but inwardly, he was unimpressed.
Another mortal product.
Hei Mao picked up the glass, took a small sip, then perked up slightly.
"Oh. It's sweet."
Da Wei's lips curled into a proud smirk.
"Of course it is," he said, resting his chin on one hand. "I take pride in my status as a foodie. That iced tea? A byproduct of one of my suggestions to a shop during the Yellow Dragon Festival."
Hei Yuan was this close to rubbing his temples and losing composure.
He had lived hundreds of years, had experienced great battles, navigated deadly political intrigue, and stood before some of the greatest figures in the world.
And yet, here he was… listening to a man boast about mortal tea.
Enough of this.
Hei Yuan faked a cough, his voice carrying a hint of impatience.
"Ahem. If we may proceed with the Young Master's business… I do not have all day."
Hei Mao, still munching on a candied fruit, pushed the plate forward toward Da Wei.
"Thank you, Big Brother," Hei Mao said sincerely. "Er… Senior… I mean, Senior…"
"It's fine," said Da Wei.
Hei Yuan nearly froze on the spot.
Big Brother?
This Da Wei… Hei Mao considered him family?
Before Hei Yuan could fully process this, Hei Mao relaxed his shoulders and exhaled.
"Alright. I'm calm now… But I'd like another glass of that iced tea."
Da Wei chuckled, taking the plate of candied fruits before refilling Hei Mao's glass.
Then, as if remembering Hei Yuan's presence, he turned his gaze toward him.
"Elder Hei Yuan, would you like some as well?" Da Wei offered, his tone lighthearted.
Hei Yuan shook his head, keeping his expression unreadable.
"No need. Do not mind me."
Da Wei shrugged, leaning back as he took another sip of his own tea.
Hei Yuan exhaled slowly, regaining his focus.
Now, at last… they could begin.
Hei Mao set down his glass, his fingers tightening around the rim as he took a steady breath. His dark eyes, usually filled with youthful energy, now held a quiet storm.
"I used to have a father, a mother, and a twin sister," Hei Mao began, his voice even but carrying a weight that belied his years.
Hei Yuan's gaze hardened.
Something in the way the boy spoke—not with grief, but with resolve—sent an uneasy feeling crawling up his spine.
Hei Mao continued, his expression unreadable.
"And then one day… they came."
A pause.
"Black-masked cultivators."
Hei Yuan's chest tightened, but he said nothing, keeping his expression neutral.
"They attacked our home. Burned it down to the ground. My family… they didn't make it."
The boy's voice did not tremble, but the hand resting on the table clenched into a fist. His nails dug into his palm, yet Hei Mao didn't seem to notice.
Hei Yuan took a slow sip of his tea, but his fingers had stiffened around the cup.
A child.
A child was telling him about the night his world was burned down.
Da Wei said nothing, only watching. His golden gaze flickered between Hei Mao and Hei Yuan, as if gauging something.
Hei Yuan exhaled through his nose.
He had heard many stories like this before. Tragedies caused by grudges, by old sins that refused to stay buried.
But hearing it from someone this young…
It gnawed at him.
Hei Yuan leaned back slightly, arms crossed. He kept his voice calm and measured.
"And you seek the truth?"
Hei Mao lifted his chin, his expression set in stone.
"I will find it."
For the first time in a long while, Hei Yuan felt something stir in his old bones.
Was it guilt?
No.
Perhaps… respect.
Hei Yuan offered a placid smile, attempting to frame the black-masked cultivators as nothing more than shameless rogues.
"Such villains are heartless. Men like that hold no empathy, no honor. Surely, the heavens will punish them in due time."
The words left his lips smoothly, effortlessly. A well-practiced response—one he had given to many before.
But even as he spoke, his thoughts lingered on Hei Mao's story.
Was it a coincidence that the boy had come here?
Perhaps.
The world was vast, and black-masked cultivators weren't exactly rare. There were always those who used disguises to commit atrocities. Maybe the ones who destroyed Hei Mao's family were just lowly bandits looking to make quick money.
And then Hei Mao spoke again.
"Their masks were pitch black," the boy said, his voice eerily steady. "Made of porcelain. And carved with unreadable scripture… written in blood."
Hei Yuan's blood ran cold.
His fingers twitched slightly against the porcelain tea cup, but he held firm.
Hei Mao's dark eyes fixed onto him.
"Do you know something about them?"
Hei Yuan shook his head immediately. Too quickly.
Hei Mao took another sip of his iced tea, seemingly indifferent.
Then, without looking up, he asked:
"Is that... the truth?"
Hei Yuan's breath hitched.
He met Hei Mao's gaze, trying to keep his expression neutral. "Of course."
Hei Mao tilted his head slightly, watching him.
"Then why are you lying?"
Hei Yuan froze.
A single heartbeat passed.
He forced himself to chuckle, feigning confusion. "Young Master, I fear I do not understand your meaning."
But in truth, he was nervous.
How?
How had such a young boy seen through him?
Hei Yuan swallowed, then turned toward Da Wei—and found himself staring into cold, unfeeling golden eyes.
A bead of sweat formed at the back of his neck.
It was him.
Da Wei had been guiding the boy.
Hei Yuan suddenly felt cornered, ensnared not by force, but by something far worse—his own emotions.
Because when he looked at Hei Mao…
He saw the late Shadow Clan Patriarch.
And when he met the boy's earnest, unwavering gaze…
Lying felt… tainted.
Like staining something pure.
Hei Yuan's fingers dug into his sleeves, his nails nearly piercing through the fabric.
He was angry.
Not at Da Wei. Not even at Hei Mao.
At himself.
The contradiction tearing through his heart, the wavering in his own beliefs—it was infuriating.
For a brief moment, he wanted to lash out, to let his emotions dictate his actions.
But reason won.
This couldn't go on. He had let himself be cornered for too long. Emotionally cornered, yes. But still cornered.
With a sharp breath, he forced a composed smile onto his face. "I must say, the tea was enjoyable." He set the porcelain cup down with a deliberate clink. "However, I believe it is time for the guests to see themselves out."
The air stilled.
"We aren't done yet," Da Wei softly remarked.
Hei Yuan narrowed his eyes.
His patience snapped.
The wooden planks beneath him groaned as his Qi surged, a quiet but undeniable force pressing onto the surroundings. It wasn't an outright attack—but it was a warning. A declaration.
"We are done." His voice carried the weight of his cultivation and the authority of his position.
He had allowed himself to be intimidated by Da Wei's display of skill, by his casual mention of an audience with the Emperor.
But why?
The empire was vast, its courts filled with frauds and self-important figures. If Da Wei truly had an audience with the Emperor, where was his proof?
"If you are truly on your way to the Empire and claim to meet the Emperor himself…" Hei Yuan's voice was sharp. "Then where is your evidence?"
He let the words settle, his Qi pressing ever so slightly.
"Perjury is not a light crime. It could very well get you killed."
Da Wei scoffed. "Now, now. Let's not be too hasty."
Hei Yuan's gaze hardened.
He was the strongest cultivator in the Shadow Clan, the one responsible for protecting his people. He had endured wars, betrayals, and the treacheries of the Abyssal Clans.
He would not allow an unknown force to shake him.
"Leave," Hei Yuan commanded one final time.
"Or there will be violence."
Hei Yuan's expression remained firm, though his fingers twitched at his sides.
"You don't want to go down that path," Da Wei remarked, his voice carrying a weight that felt unnatural, as if reality itself agreed with him.
Then, with a casual wave of his hand, he added, "Trust me."
It was the kind of self-assuredness that grated on Hei Yuan's nerves.
Contempt crept into Da Wei's tone. "What's so hard about answering a few questions?"
Hei Yuan didn't bother responding.
Instead, his fingers moved subtly, activating the formation beneath their feet.
The wooden planks of the harbor hummed, intricate arrays flaring to life. Invisible energy surged, aiming to eject these unruly visitors far from the island.
The killing array remained dormant—for now.
Hei Yuan had no desire to shed unnecessary blood, but these people had to leave.
And then—
A soft whisper left Da Wei's lips.
"Judgment Severance."
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then—
A golden cross-shaped rupture appeared in the air.
Hei Yuan's eyes widened in horror as the tear in space devoured everything in its radius—Qi, energy, even the lingering presence of the formation itself.
In an instant, the entire defensive array collapsed.
Even the killing array reserved for emergencies was stripped of its function entirely.
The ground shuddered, and the lake rippled violently, as if it, too, had felt the severing of power.
Hei Yuan froze.
The Clan's most trusted defenses, shattered like brittle glass.
Da Wei exhaled, looking almost disappointed. "Please, let's just talk," he sighed, the eccentric expert acting as if nothing had happened. "No need to resort to violence."
086 Price of Knowledge
The golden cross-shaped rupture in the air dissipated, its presence fading as if it had never been there. And then…
Something in my shadow stirred.
It was a sword surging after my throat.
I didn't move.
A Soul Recognition cultivator had struck with practiced precision, aiming to sever my head cleanly from my shoulders.
But I didn't budge.
The sword connected with my throat.
A soft clink rang out, like a dull chime of metal striking something far denser than steel.
There was no pain. No wound. No blood.
The Soul Recognition cultivator's eyes widened in shock. His hands trembled against the hilt, pressing forward as if sheer force could make up for the impossible.
It didn't.
His sword didn't even leave a scratch in my skin.
I glanced at the blade with mild amusement and turned my gaze toward the man who had ambushed me.
"Did you just do something?" I teased. "Sorry about that. I might be too tough for you…"
His pupils shrank.
I could see the moment his mind refused to comprehend reality.
He had likely spent centuries honing his technique, perfecting the art of killing with a single stroke—yet here I was, standing before him, utterly unscathed.
Before he could react, I grabbed the sword by its blade and squeezed.
Crack.
The steel snapped like dried wood.
A furious shout erupted.
"Hei Ma! How dare you?!"
Hei Yuan shot up from his seat, his robes billowing as his Qi surged. His voice thundered across the wooden harbor, laced with both fury and authority.
I raised an eyebrow.
So, this "Hei Ma" guy acted on his own?
That was…unexpected.
And here I thought the Elder had more control over his subordinates than I thought.
I wasn't about to just let this Hei Ma walk away, though.
My hand shot forward, and I caught him by the throat.
Then—
A heavy sledgehammer swung from my left, slamming right into my face.
Boom!
The force rippled through the air, kicking up a gust of wind.
My head barely tilted from the impact.
I turned my gaze toward the new attacker—a middle-aged woman with a fierce scowl.
"Let go of my husband," she demanded.
Her Qi surged around her, battle intent spilling into the air.
Husband, huh?
I sighed.
I grabbed her throat too.
The moment my fingers tightened, she went stiff, realizing her mistake a second too late.
I lifted them both slightly off the ground, staring at them with disinterest.
"This is usually the part where I ask for your last words," I remarked, my grip firm but not crushing. "…So, any last words?"
From the corner of my eye, I saw Hei Mao shift nervously.
Then, hesitantly, he muttered, "Big Brother… stop being mean."
I blinked.
A chuckle escaped my lips.
"You're right."
And just like that—I let them go.
Hei Ma stumbled back, rubbing his bruised neck, his expression dark with humiliation.
His wife wasn't much better. She grabbed his arm and yanked him away, keeping a wary distance as they stood beside Hei Yuan.
I cracked my neck, sighing.
"Hopefully, your people would think twice before doing something reckless."
This place was getting livelier and livelier.
"Shadow Clan! Stay your killing intent!"
The weight of Hei Yuan's words carried through the air, and the shadows around us stirred in response.
Dark figures shifted within the fog, barely visible through the dim light. Some crouched in the trees, while others emerged from the surface of the water. Their stealth arts were so refined that even now, they barely made a sound.
Weapons gleamed in the dim light—daggers, short swords, needles laced with poison.
A dozen strikes were prepared. None were launched.
Hei Yuan's command had frozen them mid-action. They hesitated, waiting for a follow-up order.
The elder's glare was sharp, his fists clenched at his sides. His emotions were a storm barely contained—anger at the insubordination, anxiety over my presence, and something else… fear.
His voice dropped, but his tone carried a deadly edge.
"Do you take us for fools, Ma? Mu?!"
He exhaled deeply, then turned his sharp eyes back to me.
"They do not see what I see," he said, his tone calm but firm. "Their eyes are not yet developed enough to perceive your might."
Hei Yuan's gaze swept over his kin before settling back on me.
"But I see your might, Da Wei. And it is commendable."
He paused for a beat, letting his words sink in. Then, with a measured tone, he added, "Thus, I am showing you respect. Reciprocate this respect, and we may yet avoid becoming enemies."
The underlying warning was clear.
A show of strength earned their acknowledgment, but not yet their trust. In their eyes, I was still an outsider, still a potential threat. Yet Hei Yuan was wise enough to recognize that conflict would not serve them here—not yet.
I reclined slightly, meeting his gaze with a lazy smile. "Oh? Elder Yuan, are you suggesting we could be friends? I like the sound of that."
His lips pressed into a thin line. "That remains to be seen."
The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a blade. Hei Ma rubbed his throat, his expression dark with humiliation. His wife, a middle-aged woman with a scowl etched deep into her features, stood beside him, glaring daggers at me.
"Why should we cower?" Hei Ma spat, his voice filled with indignation. "Clearly, this intruder has to be taught a lesson!"
Wow. From "guest" to "intruder" in the span of a few breaths. I almost wanted to applaud.
His wife, emboldened by his words, took a step forward. "I agree with my husband. Moreover, it's obvious you came here to provoke us." Her piercing gaze flickered toward Hei Mao. "Bringing a child who claims to be a Hei, yet we know nothing about?"
I could feel Hei Mao tense beside me. His fingers twitched ever so slightly, though whether it was from anger or something else, I wasn't sure.
Hei Yuan, who had been silent for a moment, exhaled heavily. He turned his sharp gaze toward Hei Mu. "Enough. Be patient, Hei Mu. This is not the time to be reckless."
Hei Mu barely spared him a glance before scoffing, her lips curling with disdain. "Patient? What's there to be patient for?" She jabbed a finger in my direction. "This man is a liar through and through!"
I smiled. "A liar? That's a bold claim." I rested my hands behind my back. "What exactly do you think I'm lying about?"
Her expression twisted in barely contained fury. "Everything."
Hei Mao slammed the table's surface, his small fists clenched. His expression was a mix of frustration and determination as he glared up at Hei Mu.
"Big Brother Da Wei is not a liar!" he declared, his voice carrying a rare fervor. "He might be up to mischief sometimes, and yeah, he likes pranking people… but he's a good person!"
Oh? Look at this kid defending me.
"He might be lazy and won't help set up camp," Hei Mao continued, "but he is not a liar!"
…Alright, now hold on. Was that last part really necessary? What's so bad about harmless pranks? And not helping set up camp?
Hei Mu exhaled sharply, shaking her head as if the mere act of arguing with a child was beneath her. "Such a pity," she said, her voice laced with mock sorrow. "For a boy to be so deeply brainwashed…"
And then—she vanished.
I narrowed my eyes, sensing the shift in the shadows. She reappeared under the table, her form partially melding into the darkness beneath it. Her hand wielding a short spear. A clever move—if I were an idiot.
"Bad move."
Because all she did was rile me up.
With a thought, I used Castling on Hei Mao who was still sitting by the table, and swapped his position with mine. At the same time, I shoved the table in front of me into my Item Box.
Hei Mu was still mid-shadow when that happened.
The result? She was left stuck, half-submerged in the wood like a bad painting.
I crouched down to her level, watching her eyes widen in realization. "Clench your teeth," I advised.
And then, I slapped her across the face.
BOOM!
The harbor erupted from sheer force, and Hei Mu was launched through the air like a comet. She soared past the dock, limbs flailing, before landing harshly into the lake with a mighty splash.
The water churned violently where she crashed, ripples expanding outward. Silence followed.
I straightened, dusting off my sleeve. "Well," I remarked, "at least she cooled off."
Some wooden splinters had gotten stuck under my nail though.
Ouch…
That hurt more than having a sledgehammer land on my face. Psychologically speaking, of course.
I sighed and, wincing, plucked out the tiny shards. My eyes flickered to the hole in the wood beneath me, evidence of the force that had sent Hei Mu flying.
And then—
SPLASH!
Water erupted as a figure shot out from the lake under the hole. It was a young woman with a spiked gauntlet, her face twisted with rage. "HOW DARE YOU DO THAT TO MY MOTHER?!"
I barely had time to register the ambush before her fist came hurtling toward my face.
"Oh, for—"
Reflex kicked in. I slapped her with the back of my hand.
Her momentum completely reversed, and she soared through the air, flying off in the opposite direction of where her mother had been flung.
A moment of stunned silence followed. Even I had to process what just happened.
…That was one hell of a jumpscare.
I hadn't sensed her coming because of the lake's properties and the shadows that obscured her presence.
Hei Mao tugged at my sleeve, his expression caught between concern and exasperation. "Big Brother Da Wei… Was that really necessary?"
He gestured toward the young woman now sinking into the water. "She's probably way weaker than that Hei Mu woman."
I waved a hand dismissively. "Relax. I cast Bless and Cure the moment she got the hand, so she should be fine."
As I spoke, the girl surfaced, coughing and flailing. See? Totally fine.
Hei Yuan finally stepped forward, his tone serious. "This is no laughing matter."
I stood from my chair, dusting off my sleeve. "Oh? But tell me, Elder Yuan—who started it?" Yep, I'm resorting to the childish tactic of who started it first.
His jaw tightened, but I didn't give him a chance to argue. "We only wanted to talk," I said plainly. "You were the ones who escalated."
Hei Yuan's gaze darkened. "That's not the way I saw it." His voice took on a sharper edge. "Not after the spell you cast—"
I arched a brow. "Oh? And you expect me to believe you had nothing prepared?"
His expression didn't change, but I could feel the shift in the air.
I crossed my arms. "You can't fool my senses, Elder. You had a formation set up. I don't even know what it was supposed to do. But I know when you were about to use it."
He opened his mouth, but I cut him off.
"You can argue it wasn't fatal all you want, but how was I supposed to know that?" My voice turned slightly sharper. "Besides, my spell didn't kill anyone, did it?"
Hei Yuan's lips pressed into a thin line.
I smirked. "Yeah. That's what I thought."
A loud thud echoed as Ren Xun landed beside me, his robes swishing. He clicked his tongue, annoyed.
"Boss, your spell just wrecked the boat's formations," he complained, shooting me a glare. "I suggest you stop provoking them or we'd be sitting ducks. By we, I meant Gu Jie, Lu Gao, Ren Jingyi, and me…"
This guy tends to switch from Senior to Boss when addressing me. When he was using the latter, it was usually because he was either sincerely annoyed or was in a pleasant mood. It was definitely not the latter.
I finally turned my attention to the boat artifact that had brought us here.
The once-active obscuring spell formations—the ones Ren Xun had so hastily prepared right before we arrived—were now completely gone. The boat looked ordinary now, exposed for all to see.
…Oops.
Before I could say anything, Gu Jie's voice rang out from the boat.
"Master, permission to leave the boat?"
I waved a hand lazily. "Come on, then."
Gu Jie leaped off, landing gracefully on the dock. Right behind her, Dave followed, his heavy Puppet Armor thudding against the wooden planks. Even without speaking, his clunky metal frame and the sheer pressure he exuded were enough to make the watching Shadow Clan cultivators tense.
Dave placed a fist over his chest and bowed slightly. "My Lord."
I nodded in acknowledgment.
Then, Gu Jie turned toward Hei Yuan and spoke. "Master, may I address Elder Yuan on your behalf?"
I gestured lazily for her to go ahead and sat back down in my chair.
Gu Jie then turned to Hei Mao, her voice gentle but firm. "Hei Mao, can you find it in your heart to try one more time?"
The boy gripped his scarf tightly, his brows furrowed. "I just want to talk. That's all."
"Elder Yuan," Gu Jie continued. "This journey is important to us. We want to help little Mao. The Elder might not believe it, but even if Master does not always act like it, he truly means no ill will."
"Hmmm… I don't know about that, Gu Jie," I hummed and added, "The thing is, Elder Yuan looks like he has no desire to share the history between the Black Clan and the Shadow Clan. Moreover, it looks like he has no authority whatsoever. He can't even control his own people. What do you say, Elder? I don't want to leave, knowing we are on bad terms. I guess, we have to go on our way without learning much… I wonder, maybe the imperial capital would be a much easier place… compared… to this place… Surely, the Emperor would be a better host."
I was playing coy.
Comparing a subjugated Clan to the Emperor was borderline bullying at this point.
I exhaled dramatically, gazing at the Elder who had remained impassive the entire time.
"Yes, you won't compromise," I crossed my legs. "I understand that."
I leaned forward slightly, resting my chin on my hand. "But we're the same, Elder Yuan. We won't compromise either."
Hei Mao took a deep breath before speaking up. "I feel the same. I can't compromise. I sincerely wish to know about my parents… and why my family had to die like that. I want to learn about the black-masked people and their connection with your Clan."
A moment of heavy silence settled over the harbor.
Gu Jie stood to my right. Hei Mao to my left. And Dave stood behind me.
Hei Yuan let out a long sigh and finally sat down opposite me.
To his left, the still-drenched Hei Mu stood, her face twisted with barely restrained anger.
To his right, Hei Ma stood, his arms crossed and his face looked like he ate something bitter.
Now, let's see if we could actually get somewhere.
Ren Xun grumbled as he hopped back onto the boat, his sleeves rolled up as he inspected the ruined formations. He ran his fingers over the now-inert inscriptions, muttering curses under his breath.
"Tch. Do you know how much effort I put into this?" he complained, already working to salvage what he could. "Lu Gao, come on and help me, will you?"
Lu Gao looked scandalized, "What do you even want me to do?"
I ignored them and turned my attention back to Hei Yuan.
"Let's talk terms, Elder," I said, leaning back in my seat. "How about access to your library? Historical texts… and such… Better yet, just answer Hei Mao's questions honestly…"
"I stand by my words, I reserve the right not to answer your questions," Hei Yuan's expression remained guarded. "However, we are willing to open our library for you. Admittedly, the access to our precious library comes at a price—spirit stones."
Ah. So that's how it is.
I expected resistance. I expected denial. Instead, they were charging me?
I rubbed my chin, considering it. "How much?"
Gu Jie, standing to my right, whispered, "Master, be wary. They might demand an unreasonable price."
I gestured for her to let me handle it. "Name your price, Elder."
Hei Yuan's eyes flickered, gauging my reaction. Then he finally spoke, his tone even but laced with expectation.
"One million spirit stones."
Gu Jie visibly tensed, her usually composed expression breaking for a split second.
"That's exorbitant," she hissed under her breath.
One million spirit stones? It seemed that the Shadow Clan was in dire need of resources. But for them to demand such an amount outright…
They must have assumed I was either too desperate or too ignorant to refuse.
I, however, barely blinked. Instead, I rubbed my chin, considering it.
"Fine."
Hei Yuan's brows twitched in surprise, but he quickly composed himself.
With a flick of my wrist, I pulled out a pouch of spirit stones and tossed it onto the table. The moment it landed, the air vibrated slightly from the sheer concentration of spiritual energy contained within.
Of course, I have enough.
On top of my gains from the auction, coming from various items sold, Ren Jin also gave me pocket money. Still, one million spirit stones were a lot.
The Shadow Clan elder exchanged glances with Hei Ma and Hei Mu, their expressions betraying just how badly they needed these resources.
I clasped my hands together and smiled. "One more thing. I want access to every single record in your library. Everything."
Hei Yuan's lips thinned. "That was not part of the agreement."
"It is now," I countered smoothly.
A flicker of hesitation crossed his face. "Very well."
He was lying.
I could feel it in my Divine Sense. He probably planned to hide specific texts or records.
"Elder Yuan, you wouldn't be thinking of deceiving me, would you?"
The air around us grew tense.
Hei Yuan's expression darkened for a moment before he sighed.
"I will allow you to read everything. The shadow-related techniques are not to be revealed to outsiders. Even if you threaten me with death, you won't get your hand on it."
So that was their bottom line.
I reclined in my seat and let out a breath. "That's fine," The freedom to read through their entire library was just a bonus. "I have no interest in your techniques anyway."
What I did care about was history—the truth behind Hei Mao's origins, the Black Clan, and their connection to the Shadow Clan.
With that, the deal was sealed.
I handed over another pouch of spirit stones worth the rest of the million, leaving me with only a few thousand—just enough to sustain Gu Jie and Ren Jingyi's cultivation at their current levels.
A small price to pay for knowledge.
And yes, it was a small price for me…
087 Suppressed
Inside the dimly lit patriarch's office, Hei Yuan sat behind a heavy wooden desk, his fingers pressing against his temples. The walls were lined with old scrolls, clan records, and ancient weapons encased in polished wooden frames. A faint scent of ink and sandalwood lingered in the air.
Across from him stood Hei Ma and Hei Mu, the son-in-law and eldest daughter of the patriarch. They stood stiffly, their expressions taut. The remnants of their earlier altercation with Da Wei still lingered—Hei Mu's clothes were damp from her unceremonious plunge into the lake, and Hei Ma's pride was as battered as his broken sword.
Hei Yuan exhaled sharply, his patience thinning. "What were you thinking?!"
Hei Mu scowled, crossing her arms. "We were protecting the clan!"
Hei Ma, always the more composed of the two, bowed his head slightly. "Elder Yuan, that man disrespected us. He humiliated my wife and struck my daughter. Would you have had us stand by and do nothing?"
"Yes!" Hei Yuan snapped, slamming his palm onto the desk. The force sent a few scrolls rolling off the edge, but he barely noticed. "That was exactly what you should have done! Do you have any idea what kind of person you just tried to fight?"
Hei Mu scoffed. "An arrogant brat who likes to throw his weight around?"
Hei Yuan let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. "An arrogant brat? You saw his strength firsthand! You think I sat back and let him insult us out of cowardice?" He leaned forward, his piercing gaze locking onto his juniors. "I did it because we have no chance against him."
Silence fell over the room.
Hei Ma frowned. "Elder Yuan, surely you overestimate him. He's strong, yes, but—"
"Judgment Severance."
Hei Yuan's voice was cold.
"Or whatever that spell is…"
Hei Mu and Hei Ma flinched at the words.
"The technique that erased our formation like it was nothing." Hei Yuan's voice dropped lower, as if the walls themselves had ears. "Tell me, do you know what kind of power that is?"
Hei Mu remained silent, but Hei Ma's brows furrowed. "Some kind of sword intent?"
Hei Yuan nearly laughed at the absurdity. "If only it were that simple." He leaned back, rubbing his temples. "I don't know what it was, but it wasn't ordinary. It swallowed all energy—formation, Qi, everything. Do you understand what that means? Our strongest defenses, meaningless. Our killing array, useless. If he wanted to, he could have leveled this entire island."
Hei Mu paled slightly but stubbornly held her ground. "Then what? We let him do as he pleases? Hand over our history for some spirit stones?"
Hei Yuan's lips curled into a sneer. "Some spirit stones? Do you know how much he just paid?"
Hei Ma hesitated. "It was… a lot."
"One million!" Hei Yuan barked. "He gave us one million spirit stones, without haggling, just to read our records. Now, we have an obligation to him! I was hoping to force him to turn away by asking such an unreasonable price, but what did he do? If we don't cooperate after so much he had compromised, losing our reputation would be the least of our worries... Ask yourself, Ma... Why didn't he just kill you when you failed so miserably in your attempt to kill him?"
This time, neither of them spoke.
Hei Yuan pressed on. "That isn't the behavior of a man looking to rob us. That is the behavior of a man who could take what he wanted but chose not to. Do you understand what kind of monster we nearly made an enemy of?"
Hei Mu's hands clenched into fists, her lips pressed into a thin line.
"Maybe he's just naive," Hei Ma sighed. "Then what do we do?"
"Look at the mirror and ask yourself that," Hei Yuan closed his eyes for a moment before speaking. "We don't have leverage in the first place and that was for a fact. For now, we cooperate. Give them access to the records. Watch them, but don't provoke them." His voice hardened. "And, under no circumstances, are you to mention the Abyss Clan."
Hei Mu and Hei Ma stiffened.
Hei Yuan's eyes glowed ominously in the dim light. "That boy, Hei Mao… he's dangerous. Not because of his strength, but because of who he might be."
He exhaled deeply, his fingers curling into a fist. "And if Da Wei ever learns the truth, I don't know if we'll be able to stop him."
"I CAN'T ACCEPT THIS!" Hei Mu raised her voice. "WE ARE THE PROUD SHADOW CLAN, MASTERS OF THE ABYSS. THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE!"
At the back of Hei Yuan's mind, he hoped Da Wei slapped some sense into Hei Mu… but clearly, he had only further provoked her bad qualities.
Hei Yuan's gaze drifted to the dim lanternlight casting shifting shadows across the walls, but his mind was elsewhere—fixated on the massive, overwhelming shadow that loomed over him earlier. Da Wei's presence had been oppressive, but the true horror lay in the unseen.
His shadow was too big.
That fact alone disturbed Hei Yuan far more than the display of raw power or the wealth of spirit stones Da Wei had so casually thrown at them. He had not told the others, choosing to withhold the information to maintain some semblance of composure among them. If Hei Mu or Hei Ma had known, they would have acted much more rashly, possibly worsening their already precarious situation.
The ability to see the shadows of others was not something just anyone in the Shadow Clan possessed. It was a gift reserved for the Shamans—a sacred, secretive role within the clan. It was the very source of Hei Yuan's influence, the reason his voice carried weight despite being born into a branch family. His ability to see the depth of a person's shadow was what made him more than just an elder—it made him a force to be reckoned with.
But that same gift was also a curse.
For centuries, their clan had suffered under the Grand Emperor's punishment for their past collusion with the Black Clan. Since then, no new clan member manifested Abyss Sight. The rumors whispered that they had been cursed—either by the Emperor himself or by their old, now-bitter rivals: the Black Clan.
And yet… Hei Yuan had inherited the ability.
This fact alone was enough to cause unease among the clan. They feared him. He could feel it in the way certain elders watched him, their suspicion barely veiled. After all, the current patriarch was well past his prime, while Hei Yuan, despite appearing aged, still had centuries of lifespan ahead of him. He had never sought power—never once entertained the thought of seizing the clan for himself—but that did not stop the whispers.
Because of this, Hei Yuan had deliberately held back his cultivation.
It wasn't his fault that the patriarch trusted him more than the other elders. It wasn't his fault he had been born a branch member. But none of that mattered. The moment he displayed ambition, they would turn against him. That was why he remained cautious.
"Elder Yuan, we can't let them leave with the boy," Hei Mu said, snapping him out of his thoughts. Her arms were crossed, her soaked robes now dry, but her temper had not cooled.
Hei Yuan frowned. "You think forcefully taking him back is a solution?"
"If not force, then at least some claim over him," Hei Ma added. "That child has already stepped into the Fourth Realm at such a young age. You saw it yourself—his potential is enormous. Wouldn't it be a waste to let him remain under that… Da Wei's influence?"
Hei Yuan leaned back, his gaze flickering to the swirling shadows in the room. Hei Mu had accused the boy of being a fake. Such hypocrisy… Still, the truth was… she had been wrong.
Hei Mao was no fake.
Hei Yuan had seen it clearly with his Abyss Sight. Members of the Shadow Clan or the Black Clan always carried deeper, more distinct shadows than outsiders, a reflection of their bloodline and connection to the abyssal arts. That boy… he was one of them.
And yet, he was not raised within the clan.
Maybe he was from the Black Clan? However, considering his story, probably not… The Black Clan have strict breeding policies after all…
Where did the boy truly come from?
That was what troubled him the most. Who had hidden him away all these years? And how had he suddenly appeared now, escorted by such an unpredictable and dangerous man?
"…And if Da Wei refuses to hand him over?" Hei Yuan asked, his voice measured.
Hei Ma's eyes gleamed with greed. "Then we negotiate. He paid a fortune for access to our library. That means he needs something from us. We use that."
"Do you truly think he's that much of a pushover?" Hei Yuan's fingers tapped lightly against the desk. There was wisdom in Hei Ma's words. For now, they had to tread carefully. He could not afford to be reckless—not with Da Wei, and not with the uneasy balance within his own clan.
Still… his eyes lingered on the flickering shadows, thinking there was a ghost hiding there.
He was probably overthinking about it.
The problem with Hei Ma's suggestion was that what Da Wei needed from them wasn't just knowledge—it was because of Hei Mao.
Hei Yuan had observed it clearly. Every word Da Wei spoke, every action he took, was centered around protecting the boy. The sheer amount of spirit stones he had thrown at them for access to their records wasn't out of idle curiosity or scholarly pursuit. It was because Hei Mao wanted answers. And Da Wei was willing to back him, even if it meant tearing apart an entire formation without hesitation.
That was not the behavior of a mere benefactor.
Hei Yuan was no fool. He had lived long enough to see countless cultivators come and go, and he knew the look of someone who had staked their claim. Da Wei cherished the boy. Not just as some passing responsibility, but something deeper—perhaps as a disciple… or even as family.
The boy had called him Big Brother, after all.
That single title spoke volumes. It wasn't something a mere traveling companion would use. Cultivators were not known for forming attachments easily, and yet here was Da Wei, a man who wielded power casually yet terrifyingly, allowing himself to be addressed in such a familiar way.
Hei Yuan tapped his fingers against the desk, his mind calculating.
If Da Wei valued the boy this much, then he would not tolerate anyone taking him away.
Which meant… Hei Ma's idea of staking claim over Hei Mao was not as simple as it sounded. Da Wei had already placed the boy under his wing. Would he allow the Shadow Clan to impose their authority over him? Would he allow them to dictate Hei Mao's fate?
No.
And therein lay the danger.
This wasn't a simple matter of negotiation anymore. If they made the wrong move, Da Wei would not hesitate to destroy them. Cultivators had killed for less. The fact that he hadn't killed anyone yet was a testament to his restraint, but that restraint had limits. Was knowledge of Hei Mao's past truly worth provoking a man like that?
Hei Yuan exhaled slowly. He had to be careful. If he miscalculated, it wouldn't just be his position that was at stake. The entire Shadow Clan could be buried in this man's shadow.
This was a mess—an absolute mess. His gaze flickered between Hei Mu and Hei Ma, both of whom stood rigid before him, their expressions ranging from frustration to thinly veiled hostility.
He hadn't wanted to reveal this. Knowing too much could be dangerous. But if he didn't make them understand, their foolishness could lead the Shadow Clan to ruin.
He closed his eyes briefly, recalling the moment he laid eyes on Da Wei.
The shadow that loomed behind that man… was far too vast.
Hei Yuan's Abyss Sight had always been a source of prestige within the Clan, granting him insight into people's nature, their power, their presence. And in all his long years, he had never seen a shadow like that.
Not even the current Patriarch, a Seventh Realm cultivator, could compare.
Da Wei's shadow was deep, endless, and too unnatural. It twisted and writhed, shifting like it had a will of its own. It did not belong to any single plane of existence. It was ancient. It was watching. It was something that should not be provoked.
Hei Yuan finally looked up, his voice low and firm. "You will not lay a hand on Da Wei or his people."
Hei Mu scowled. "Are you suggesting we let that arrogant fool trample all over us?"
Hei Ma crossed his arms. "That man wields power carelessly. He humiliated my wife, remember? Or have you gone truly senile? He humiliated me. If we do nothing, what does that say about our Clan?"
Hei Yuan slammed his palm on the desk, the force making both of them flinch. "It says we are wise enough to recognize when we are dealing with something beyond us."
Silence fell.
Hei Yuan narrowed his eyes. "You weren't there when I saw him with my Abyss Sight." He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "That man is something else. His shadow is too large… too unnatural. And remember, I am still an Elder. So you better fix your tone, boy…"
Hei Mu's lips pressed into a thin line, but Hei Ma scoffed. "You think we should just cower, then?"
Hei Yuan's patience thinned. "You misunderstand. This is not about cowering. This is about survival."
He leaned back, folding his arms. "Do you think it's a coincidence he arrived here, now of all times? The Patriarch is in seclusion, attempting to break through to the Eighth Realm. The process is dangerous enough—any disturbance could cost him his life."
Hei Mu and Hei Ma stiffened.
Hei Yuan continued, his voice colder now. "The spirit stones we acquired just now—those will be crucial in ensuring his breakthrough. If the Patriarch succeeds, our Clan will finally have a true powerhouse again." His sharp gaze landed on the two. "But if something happens to him because of your recklessness, the blood will be on your hands."
Hei Mu's expression darkened. "You think Da Wei will be a threat to the Patriarch's breakthrough?"
"I think," Hei Yuan said evenly, "that he is an unknown. A dangerous unknown. We do not know his full capabilities. We do not know his motives. But what I do know is that we cannot afford a conflict right now."
Hei Ma let out a slow breath, still looking unconvinced, but at least no longer argumentative. "Then what do you suggest?"
Hei Yuan's fingers tapped against the desk. "For now, we keep the Patriarch's seclusion a secret. If Da Wei finds out, we don't know how he'll react. And until the Patriarch emerges, our highest priority is avoiding provocation."
Hei Mu clenched her fists but nodded begrudgingly. Hei Ma sighed, rubbing his neck.
"Good," Hei Yuan said, his voice softer now. "You may both leave."
Hei Mu was the first to turn on her heel, storming out with a frustrated huff. Hei Ma lingered for a second longer before shaking his head and following after her.
As the door closed behind them, Hei Yuan finally allowed himself to lean back in his chair.
Hei Yuan let out a slow breath, his fingers drumming against the desk. He had underestimated their reaction.
He had expected resistance—of course he had. But this level of hostility? If he had told them earlier, if he had given them more time to stew on it… things would have escalated even worse.
They might have provoked the other members of the Clan, roused them into action. And if that happened… would they have gone so far as to summon it?
His gaze flickered toward the window, where the lake beyond stretched ominously under the dim light.
The being that slumbered within it.
A last resort. A true desperate measure. A secret known only to a select few.
The thought sent an uncomfortable shiver down his spine. His warning this time would suffice for now, especially after being reminded of the Patriarch's situation. The spirit stones they acquired from Da Wei probably also helped.
Had Hei Mu and Hei Ma been any more reckless, would they have even considered calling upon it?
That pair… they had no respect for the Abyss Sight.
It was a sacred ability, one that allowed them to see beyond what normal cultivators could perceive. A gift. A burden. A proof of lineage.
And yet, Hei Mu dismissed it outright.
Perhaps it was her own bitterness, her deep-seated resentment at having been born a woman in a Clan where only men could contend for the seat of Patriarch. Had she been born a son, she might have been able to seize power. Instead, she was married off, forced to contend with fate in ways that did not align with her ambitions.
She hated it. And she hated him.
Hei Yuan exhaled, composing himself before calling for a servant. The young man entered swiftly, bowing his head.
"Elder Yuan," the servant greeted respectfully.
Hei Yuan straightened. "How is Da Wei settling in?"
The servant hesitated for half a breath before answering. "He and his people have taken to their resting place without complaint. However…"
Hei Yuan's gaze sharpened. "Speak."
The servant swallowed. "They do not seem… wary. It is as if they hold no fear of being in foreign territory. They rest as if they are in their own domain."
Hei Yuan's fingers clenched. Of course they did.
Because Da Wei knew that he could leave at any time.
088 Lost Again
The forest was a land of decay. The trees stood tall but lifeless, their bark blackened and twisted, as if scorched by an unseen fire. Withered leaves clung stubbornly to gnarled branches, rustling like dry whispers in the stagnant air. The ground was a graveyard of rot—moss-covered bones of fallen trees, tangled roots that curled like fingers, and a thick, unshakable smell of damp earth and decay.
Joan and Alice trudged through the desolation, the former gripping her staff with barely concealed irritation while the latter lazily strolled ahead, arms behind her head.
"This is your fault," Joan snapped, shattering the silence.
"My fault?" Alice scoffed, turning on her heel to glare at Joan. "You were the one who said, and I quote, 'Let's take the narrow path. It feels safer.'"
"And who was it that insisted on backtracking when we saw those creepy masked people? Oh, right—you!" Joan shot back.
Alice smirked, flashing her fangs. "Excuse me for not wanting to be skewered by cultists."
Joan groaned, rubbing her temples. "Great. So now we're lost. Again."
Alice huffed, placing her hands on her hips. "It's not like we had a map to begin with, priestess. What, do you expect divine intervention to show us the way?"
Joan shot her a glare but didn't reply. She hated to admit it, but they had been wandering in circles. The twisted trees all looked the same, and the eerie quiet made her skin crawl. Worse, they weren't alone. The vampire-wannabes and masked figures had been hunting them for days, never getting too close, but never giving up either.
"At least," Alice continued, "we haven't run into anything stronger than that serpentine dragon. And even that was just a big, dumb lizard."
Joan tightened her grip on her staff. "That 'big, dumb lizard' could command storms and use lightning magic." And maybe it was only her who was remembering, but weren't they support specialists?
Alice waved dismissively. "Details."
Joan sighed, trying to focus. They needed a plan. Between the two of them, they had decent odds of survival, but there was one fundamental problem:
"Whose bright idea was it to pair a priestess and a vampire?" Joan muttered under her breath.
Alice's grin widened. "Oh, you wound me. I thought we made a great team."
Joan shot her a dry look. "If by 'great team' you mean we constantly bicker and attract trouble, then yes, we're perfect."
Alice laughed. "Well, at least we're not bored."
A distant howl echoed through the dead forest. Both of them immediately tensed.
"…Tell me that was the wind," Joan said.
Alice licked her lips, her fangs glinting. "Nope. And I think we just found our next problem."
In front of them was an apparition, a ghost.
The ghost wept before them, a translucent figure of a woman barely clinging to the fabric of this world. Her form flickered like a candle struggling against the wind, her long, tangled hair obscuring most of her face. A thick rope was wrapped around her neck, dragging her forward through the air—yet no one was pulling it.
It was a reenactment of her final moments.
Alice crossed her arms, tilting her head at the sight. "Well, that's creepy."
The woman sobbed, whispering words neither of them understood.
Alice turned to Joan, an impish grin forming. "Go on, priestess. Console the poor soul. Do your holy woman thing."
Joan rubbed her temples, already exhausted. "Alice, we've been walking in circles for hours. We're trapped in this cursed forest. The least we can do is try talking to the ghost."
Alice gave an exaggerated groan. "Sure, let's have a heartfelt conversation with the wailing specter we can't even understand. Sounds productive. Remember? Language barrier?"
Joan sighed and pointed at the skull strapped to Alice's waist by a linen rope. "That's what he's for. Isn't he?"
Alice scowled, resting a hand on the skull's smooth, weathered surface. The thing had been their unwelcome companion ever since they had sheltered in a cave to escape a storm. That was where they had encountered the fragment of a powerful vengeful spirit—an ancient being who, surprisingly, spoke their language.
It had tried to kill them, of course.
But after a particularly heated battle and a lot of creative problem-solving, they had sealed part of it into this skull. For some reason, though, the strange interaction between their powers and this world's system had warped it into something… different.
The spirit had turned into a lich.
Still, it was useful, so they kept it—after thoroughly grinding its original body into ash and layering seal after seal on what remained of his skull.
The problem was… it was insufferable.
Alice scowled. "You really want to wake him up?"
Joan gave her a look.
Alice rolled her eyes. "Fine." She muttered a brief incantation, lifting the sleeping curse she had placed on the spirit.
The skull shuddered. Then, with a burst of eerie blue flames, two pinpricks of ghostly light flared within its empty eye sockets.
"BEHOLD, FOOLS!" the spirit bellowed, its voice deep and dramatic. "YOU HAVE ONCE MORE SUMMONED THE GREAT—"
Alice immediately slapped a hand over its mouth. Not that it had one, but she wasn't in the mood for theatrics.
"Get to translating," she grumbled. "You piece of shit."
The skull squirmed in her grip. "Unhand me, vile temptress! A creature of such divine beauty should not mar her fair hands by grasping a lowly skull such as I!"
Alice sighed. "He's in one of his moods again."
Joan pinched the bridge of her nose. "Just tell him to translate the ghost's words before I shove him back in a bag of shit for another month."
Imagine.
Two beautiful women resorting to vile language.
That spoke of just how insufferable the skull was…
The skull grumbled but reluctantly turned its attention to the weeping apparition. The blue flames flickered as it listened, absorbing the ghost's sorrowful tale.
The ghost continued to weep, her translucent form shaking with each sob. The rope around her neck remained taut, dragging her spectral body forward despite there being no visible force pulling it.
The skull hummed in amusement. "Ah, the poor thing must have died by hanging. But… where's the tree?"
Joan frowned at the observation, scanning their surroundings. The forest was filled with blackened wood and withered leaves, but none of the twisted trees bore any sign of a rope or a broken branch where one might have hung. It was as if the execution had taken place without any physical support.
Alice, however, simply shrugged. "Who cares?"
The skull let out a dramatic sigh. "Ah, such a lack of curiosity in the minds of today's youth… Well then, allow me to take the lead!"
He turned his eerie blue gaze toward the weeping woman and spoke in a deep, smooth voice. "My dear, your sorrowful cries pierce even the void! You must have been an exquisite beauty in life. Would you, perhaps, care to—"
Joan clenched her fists and fought the urge to cast Turn Undead right then and there.
Alice snickered at her expression. "Tempting, isn't it?"
"Painfully so," Joan muttered before an idea struck her. She turned to Alice. "Can't you use one of your Charm spells on him?"
Alice crossed her arms, contemplating it for a moment before sighing. "Tried it before. Didn't work. Turns out, he has ridiculously high resistance. Either that or he's just too obnoxious for the spell to take effect."
Joan groaned. "Of course."
With a dramatic cough, the skull finally turned serious. "Now, now, let's get to business. The weeping woman… she cries out for an answer." His ghostly flames flickered. "She wails: Why… why did they abandon me… in the Black Forest?"
Alice raised a brow. "That's… a little too on the nose for the forest's name, don't you think?"
The skull chuckled, but there was a malicious edge to the sound this time. "Oh, you haven't even begun to hear the true horrors of this place." His voice dropped to a whisper, making the air around them feel colder. "This forest is a grave. A prison. A trap. You will never leave. You will wander and wander until the trees claim your mind and your bodies rot into the soil."
Joan and Alice exchanged glances.
Then the skull continued with a lecherous snicker. "However… if you were to show me your bountiful mounds, I might just consider lending you my vast wisdom."
Alice's expression darkened. "Oh, you're done talking."
Before the skull could even react, she cast Pain Amplification on him.
The ghostly flames within the skull's eye sockets flared violently as it screamed in agony.
Joan immediately followed up with Bless.
Normally, Bless was a spell meant to bolster allies with divine power. But against an undead creature?
It worked like a purification spell—inflicting debilitating debuffs.
The skull let out another shriek, smoke rising from its surface as holy power burned through its very essence.
"Y-YOU WRETCHES! MERCY! MERCYYYY!" it wailed, twisting in Alice's grip.
Alice gave Joan a smug look. "Now that's how you deal with an annoying undead."
Joan merely sighed, adjusting her gloves. "Now then… how about we try this again? Properly. Or do you want me to bless you a second time?"
The skull groaned, his ghostly blue flames flickering weakly. Even after being blasted with Pain Amplification and Bless, he still retained enough resistance to stay intact. Good. If he had crumbled too easily, Joan and Alice wouldn't have been able to resort to such… persuasive methods.
The floating skull grumbled, "You know… you could've just asked me."
Alice hummed in agreement. "He has a point. If he knows this place, maybe he actually knows a way out."
Joan crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes. "And what would the cost be?"
The skull giggled in an unsettling way. Then, it started breathing heavily.
Joan's skin crawled. "Wait. How are you even— You don't have lungs!"
Alice, meanwhile, just gave her a flat stare.
Joan gulped. "W-What?"
Alice's stare shifted—no longer flat, but something worse. Pity.
Joan took a step back. "What?! Why are you looking at me like that?!"
Alice sighed, shaking her head. "Joan, I have seen many things in my long life, but I have never met someone so… naïve, stupid, and innocent all at the same time."
Joan's eye twitched. "Excuse me?"
Alice gestured at the still-muttering skull. "We could just torture the information out of him. But now, thanks to you, he thinks he has bargaining power."
The skull perked up. "Indeed! If you wish for my wisdom, you must fulfill my desires!"
Joan shuddered. "And that's exactly why I didn't want to just ask him!"
Alice groaned, rubbing her temples. "I take it back. You're not just naïve, you're hopeless."
Joan huffed. "And what would you have done?"
"Like I said," Alice smirked, "Tortured the information out of him. Of course, we then have to tolerate his blathering. But that's a small price to pay."
Joan opened her mouth to argue but hesitated.
Alice's smirk deepened. "Ah, but you're worried about 'torture of the soul,' aren't you?"
Joan looked away. "…It's bad."
Alice's eyebrow twitched. "But it's fine to blast him with Bless just to vent?"
Joan coughed, turning her head. "…It was only once. That's different."
The skull, gleefully watching their exchange, cackled. "No, no, no! You must fulfill my wishes if you want me to cooperate! I am a man of refined tastes, after all!"
Alice shot Joan a dry look. "See what you did?"
Joan sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Fine. I admit it. I was wrong. And my hypocrisy is bad."
Alice tilted her head. "Hypocrisy might be too much."
Joan raised an eyebrow. "Then what would you call it?"
Alice shrugged. "Mild stupidity?"
The skull interjected, "Ladies, please! Less bickering, more chest—"
Alice immediately blasted him with Pain Amplification again. "Die, piece of shit."
"This is going to take a while, isn't it?" Joan sighed and rolled her shoulders before raising her hand again. A soft glow gathered around her fingertips as she prepared yet another Bless spell. Beside her, Alice lazily flicked her wrist, sending another Pain Amplification onto the floating skull.
Blue flames flickered wildly in the skull's empty eye sockets as it shuddered in her waist. But instead of agony, it let out a loud, obscene moan.
"Ohhh~ Yes! More! Don't stop now!"
Joan froze mid-cast. Alice's hand stopped mid-motion.
The two exchanged a glance.
The skull shuddered again, giggling. "I knew you two were the perfect mistresses of pain. Come, let's make this suffering last forever—"
Alice dropped her arm, cutting off her spell. Joan did the same.
Silence.
The skull's flames flickered. "Wait. Why'd you stop?"
Joan's face twitched. Alice clicked her tongue in annoyance.
"Nope. That's it. Sleeping curse." Joan suggested, "Do it, Alice."
The skull shrieked in panic, twisting in its restraints. "No, no, no! Anything but that! I'll behave, I swear!"
Alice gave Joan a knowing look, and the priestess sighed before lowering her hand. "Alright," she said. "We'll leave you awake, but only if you promise to cooperate and—" she narrowed her eyes "—shut up."
The skull hummed to itself, rocking slightly as if weighing its options. Then, with a wicked cackle, it said, "How about a trade? Show me your undergarments, and I'll tell you all you need to know—"
Alice's mana flared. The air around them trembled.
The skull instantly shrank back. "—I mean, I was joking! Just a joke! I'll talk! No need to be so violent!"
Alice lowered her mana, but her glare remained sharp. "Then talk."
The skull rattled slightly before its eerie blue flames steadied. "Very well. Listen carefully, mistresses of pain. This place—the Black Forest—is a domain of the Abyss Clan. The masked pursuers chasing you? They're from the same group."
Joan crossed her arms. "And?"
The skull continued, "They have a spell—an ancient technique—that allows them to transport people into this forest. You didn't wander here by accident. You were dragged into this cursed place."
That explained why no matter how far they walked, they kept ending up in the same damn place.
Joan took a deep breath, her fingers pressing against her temple as she fought back her frustration. "Alright, then tell us—how do we get out of here?"
The skull hummed, its blue flames flickering in thought. "Ah, escape? Now that is a tricky thing..."
"Just answer the damn question," Alice snapped, already looking impatient.
The skull let out a low, rattling chuckle. "Unfortunately, I know of no way out. This place… it is not merely a forest. It is a dimension grafted from another plane of existence, a small world of its own. The Abyss Clan created this space and merged it with the real world. You're not just lost in a physical forest—you're trapped inside their domain."
Joan's expression darkened. "That explains why my Mass Teleport isn't working…" she muttered. She had been trying to teleport them out since they realized they were lost, but every attempt failed. Now she knew why—it wasn't just distance keeping them trapped but an entirely different layer of reality.
Alice scoffed, crossing her arms. "So in other words, you're useless." She raised her hand, ready to cast a sleeping curse.
"Wait! Wait! I can still be of use!" The skull rattled violently in its bindings, panic clear in its voice. "I can tell you about your pursuers! I think I have an idea… of their motivation."
Alice lowered her hand slightly. "Spill."
The flames in the skull's sockets flared as it spoke. "The black porcelain masks inscribed with blood scriptures were the signature attire of the Abyss Clan's elites. They excel in formations, umbramancy, and all manners of dark arts. They are a symbol of fear within the Deepmoor Continent. However, what intrigues me is why they are so persistent in chasing you. They aren't just trying to kill you; they want you alive. That at least, I can tell."
Joan and Alice exchanged glances.
The skull continued. "The Abyss Clan is based in the Deepmoor Continent. And yet, they've gone through the immense trouble of sending their people all the way to Stormcall Continent to hunt you down. That is no small effort."
Joan frowned. "You were asleep most of the time when they were chasing us. How do you know all this?"
"Ah, my dear priestess, I listen. Even when I sleep, I can hear things. And I heard them murmuring their curses, their orders… their intent."
Joan tapped her fingers against her arm. "Then tell me, oh wise and perverted skull, why are they so obsessed with us?"
The skull cackled. "Oh, I don't think they care about you, priestess." It twisted slightly in its restraints as if turning toward Alice. "They're after her."
Joan blinked. "Alice?"
Alice's expression darkened. "Tch. Of course, they are."
The skull's flames flickered in amusement. "A powerful demonic cultivator with secret arts… like yours. How could they not want you? Perhaps they covet your bloodline, your knowledge, or the forbidden techniques you carry. Whatever the case, you, my dear lady of the night, are their primary target."
A heavy silence followed.
Alice sighed. "Well, that's just great."
Joan exhaled sharply. "So what do we do now?"
The skull chuckled again. "If you wish to escape this place alive, there is only one option."
Alice narrowed her eyes. "And that is?"
The skull's flames flared. "You wait for your captors. Then you capture them instead."
089 Umbral Scripture Hall
The Shadow Clan had arranged for us to stay in the eastern wing, but everyone seemed far more interested in the library. The Umbral Scripture Hall had become our second home, a place where curiosity burned brighter than any lantern. As for me? I hadn't left since we arrived.
I'd learned a lot, truly. The library wasn't particularly rich in cultivation methods or techniques—most of what it offered paled in comparison to the gifts I had received from the Cloud Mist Sect, let alone the treasures I had picked up from Ren Jin's Golden Sun Pavilion. But in terms of historical texts and general knowledge? This place was a goldmine.
Flipping through a worn tome, my eyes landed on a passage discussing the historical significance of black masks. I skimmed through the content. Before the Grand Emperor's reign, masks had been more than mere disguises—they had signified status and power among certain cultivators.
A promising lead. I placed the book atop a growing pile, each volume holding some thread of connection to the enigmatic black-masked cultivators.
Nearby, Hei Mao sat with furrowed brows, his lips moving as he painstakingly traced words with his finger. Ren Xun knelt beside him, offering guidance with quiet patience. Hei Mao had made it his mission to uncover the truth behind the killers of his family, and learning to read was his first step toward that goal.
I watched them for a moment.
Hei Mao sat hunched over a scroll, his finger tracing unfamiliar characters as he struggled to piece them together. Across from him, Ren Xun watched with the patience of a seasoned teacher, though his arms were folded in what could only be described as suppressed frustration.
"Try again," Ren Xun said, tapping the parchment. "That word. What does it mean?"
Hei Mao squinted at the brushstrokes, his lips moving silently before he hesitantly muttered, "Uh… 'shade'?"
Ren Xun sighed. "No. That's 'darkness.'"
Hei Mao scowled. "They look the same."
"To an illiterate fool, perhaps."
Hei Mao glared at him, his fingers twitching as though resisting the urge to hurl the scroll across the room. "Then why don't you read it?"
Ren Xun smirked, picking up another scroll. "I already did. Twice." He leaned forward, lowering his voice mockingly. "Unlike someone, I happen to know how to read."
Hei Mao ground his teeth but forced himself to focus. "Tch. I'll get it eventually."
Ren Xun leaned back, arms behind his head. "We'll see. At this rate, the black-masked killers will have already died of old age before you learn to read their name."
Hei Mao froze for half a breath, then exhaled sharply. "Not funny."
Ren Xun's smirk faded. He looked at the younger boy's clenched fists and sighed. "It wasn't meant to be." He gestured to the scroll. "You want to learn, don't you? Then don't waste time glaring at me—read."
"Ugh… You are so mean…" Hei Mao grumbled but lowered his gaze back to the parchment. This time, when he traced the words, he took his time, sounding them out carefully.
Ren Xun watched for a moment before nodding. "Better."
At that, Hei Mao sat up a little straighter.
It made me wonder what Ren Xun was scheming, adopting a harsh persona… or maybe, he was just like that as a teacher. The nostalgia was rather refreshing though. I remembered teaching the same way…
"There's really a lot of them," muttered Lu Gao.
I turned to Lu Gao, who was flipping through a stack of scrolls with a furrowed brow. He had been helping with the research, though I had repeatedly insisted he should focus on mastering the Blessed Weapon spell instead.
"I thought I told you to concentrate on your training," I said, narrowing my eyes at him.
Lu Gao merely shrugged. "I can do it in my own time, Master. Besides, I needed a break. I was stuck anyway."
I sighed but let it go. If he wanted to contribute here, I wouldn't stop him.
Across the hall, Dave was in his usual spot, his clunky armor making him look like a misplaced war puppet among the delicate scrolls and books. Despite the bulk of his form, he had become oddly meticulous in his research, carefully sifting through texts and taking notes—though I suspected part of his focus was just him getting used to the limitations of his new body.
Meanwhile, Gu Jie sat beside Ren Jingyi's bowl, the two of them cultivating in silence. I had insisted they make the most of the spirit-rich environment, and for once, Gu Jie had found herself unable to argue against my reasoning.
She clutched a spirit stone tightly as she meditated, her breathing slow and measured. Ren Jingyi, on the other hand… well… she was nibbling on a spirit stone.
I paused mid-turn of a page, staring.
It was a strange sight—her fish body bobbing slightly as she bit into the glowing stone, as if she were snacking on some divine delicacy.
I decided to just accept it and turned back to my reading.
Ah! I finally found it. I knew they would have it.
The Shadow Clan had an undeniably rich history, their accumulation of knowledge deep and vast. This place held no shortage of mysteries, and if anything, the Umbral Scripture Hall was proof of that. I had spent days buried in texts, searching, flipping through scrolls and ancient tomes, and now—finally—I held in my hands a comprehensive record detailing the different realms of cultivation.
It didn't describe how to achieve each realm, nor did it provide any cultivation techniques, but the organization of the information was impeccable. It clearly outlined the structure of the path, making it easier to understand how each realm built upon the previous one.
Cultivation was divided into four major states: The Four Great Attributes, The Three Cosmic Elements, The Trinity Celestial Paths, and The Godly Vessel.
The progression was straightforward. The First to Fourth Realms aligned with the Four Great Attributes, focusing on the foundational aspects of cultivation. The Fifth to Seventh Realms aligned with the Three Cosmic Elements, where one's connection to the greater forces of existence deepened. The Eighth to Tenth Realms aligned with the Trinity Celestial Paths, an esoteric stage that shaped the cultivator's very destiny. And finally, the Eleventh Realm stood alone as The Godly Vessel, the pinnacle of cultivation.
It looked something like this:
The Four Great Attributes
Martial Tempering (1st Realm) → Foundation of the body, refining strength, endurance, and combat capabilities.
Mind Enlightenment (2nd Realm) → Awakening of the mind, broadening perception, and forming an internal connection to the world.
Will Reinforcement (3rd Realm) → Solidifying willpower, deepening one's spiritual resilience, and enhancing inner control.
Spirit Mystery (4th Realm) → The point where one's spirit begins to transcend the ordinary, stepping into the threshold of profound cultivation.
The Three Cosmic Elements
Soul Recognition (5th Realm) → Awareness and refinement of the soul, beginning the process of merging it with one's cultivation.
Essence Gathering (6th Realm) → Drawing upon and refining cosmic essence, deepening the harmony between body, spirit, and energy.
Bloodline Refinement (7th Realm) → The transformation of one's bloodline, unlocking latent potential and stepping beyond mortal limits.
The Trinity Celestial Paths
Heart Path (8th Realm) → Walking the path of one's Dao, solidifying one's beliefs and purpose.
World Path (9th Realm) → The cultivator's existence begins to influence the world itself, stepping into a realm where they can shape reality.
Endless Path (10th Realm) → A step into the infinite, where one truly approaches the boundary between mortality and divinity.
The Godly Vessel
Perfect Immortal (11th Realm) → The final transformation, where one's existence transcends all worldly limitations, becoming a true immortal.
I stared at the text for a long while, absorbing the structure of it all.
While I already had a vague understanding of how cultivation realms were divided, this classification was far more detailed and systematic than anything I had encountered before.
I leaned back, rubbing my temples. This information was valuable, but it didn't exactly provide a direct solution to our current predicament. Still, knowing the structure of cultivation was useful. Who knew? Perhaps it would help me later.
It made me wonder—where exactly did I stand in these cultivation realms?
Since arriving in this world, the thought had crossed my mind more than once. As a max-level Paladin, I had confidence in my strength, but how far would that confidence carry me? In the end, numbers meant nothing here. This wasn't a game. My power came from divine blessings, but at what level did it compare to this world's cultivation?
I had yet to meet an opponent who truly pushed me to my limits. The closest I had come to that was my battle against the fragment of a Heavenly Demon—a fight that had been difficult only because I had been handicapped. Without my divine authority at full capacity, I was unable to perform at my peak ability. That wasn't a proper measure of my strength.
Could I stand against a World Path cultivator? Or an Endless Path one? The Perfect Immortal realm was the pinnacle, but I had no way of knowing where I fell on that scale. The thought gnawed at me.
As I turned another page, the sound of soft footsteps came to a halt in front of me.
I looked up.
It was a girl, probably around Lu Gao's age, clad in the dark robes of the Shadow Clan. Her short, dark hair framed a delicate face—pretty, but unremarkable. Her eyes, however, carried a glint of unease, as if she was struggling with something internally.
I raised an eyebrow. "Can I help you?"
She exhaled slowly, as if steeling herself, then suddenly lowered her head and bowed—a perfect ninety-degree bow.
Silence fell over the library. The quiet rustling of pages ceased, and I felt the weight of curious gazes turning toward us.
Then, in a voice that quivered between restraint and compulsion, she spoke:
"This one… humbly seeks forgiveness."
Her tone was stiff, as though she had to force the words out.
I rested my chin on my hand, watching her. "Forgiveness for what?"
Her hands curled into fists at her sides. "For offenses committed… both deliberate and unintended," she said slowly, as if choosing each word with excruciating care. "For the disrespect shown. For—" she hesitated, struggling, before gritting her teeth and bowing her head lower. "For matters of the past that cannot be undone."
There was no direct mention of what exactly she had done. No confession. No plea. Just vague, formalized words carefully strung together to avoid losing too much face.
I could see it clearly—she did not want to be here, saying this. Yet she had been forced into it by circumstance, by duty. Her pride warred with necessity, but in the end, she had chosen the latter.
But there was a bigger problem…
I frowned. "Who are you?" I kept my voice even, but I was already getting a bad feeling.
She lifted her head slightly, her face turning a furious shade of pink, but before she could answer, Ren Xun sauntered over, smirking.
"She's the daughter of Hei Mu and Hei Ma," he drawled, crossing his arms. "The same girl you just slapped a few days back, Boss."
Oh.
Now that he mentioned it, I vaguely recalled striking someone like that. But I had no particular reason to remember her face. If I had hit her, she must have deserved it.
Yeah… I could be a self-righteous prick sometimes.
The moment Ren Xun said his piece, the girl's face turned even redder. Then, without another word, she spun on her heel and bolted—tripping over the door frame before scrambling to her feet and fleeing for her life.
"Ah, the gauntlet girl… Now, I remember." I realized.
Hei Mao, who had been watching the whole thing, shook his head. "You're being mean again."
I sighed. "Get back to work," I told him. "Same goes for you, Ren Xun."
Honestly, I didn't care much for apologies. What did a simple bow mean, anyway? It wasn't like it would magically erase the bad blood between us and the Shadow Clan's higher-ups. Their political mess was their own. If I was going to get involved, I'd rather back Hei Yuan.
Shaking my head, I turned back to a scroll discussing undead worship and resumed my reading.
A flicker of movement appeared in my peripheral vision.
Another one?
Suppressing a sigh, I glanced up from my reading.
It was Hei Yuan.
The older man's gaze swept over me, then toward the doorway where the girl had fled. He let out a quiet sigh and shook his head. "That was a mess."
I closed the book in my hands with a soft thud. "Was it your idea?"
Hei Yuan gave me a look, one that carried a hint of exasperation. "Do you think me so free?" He shook his head. "No. But it seems someone thought to resolve past grievances in this manner."
He met my gaze then, his expression steady. "Regardless, I will offer my apologies on behalf of the Shadow Clan."
The way he said it was interesting. Unlike the girl before him, his words carried neither reluctance nor servility. He was polite, but not submissive—maintaining his dignity as a cultivator, yet still sincere.
I studied him for a moment before shrugging. "It's water under the bridge now."
He nodded. Then, after a beat of silence, he said, "Come. Have tea with me."
I tapped a finger against the book cover, considering his offer.
I had no real desire to entangle myself in the Shadow Clan's internal struggles, but at the same time, building some rapport wasn't a bad idea. Hei Yuan was someone worth keeping on good terms with.
More importantly…
Tea meant conversation.
And conversation, in the right setting, meant information.
Judging by Hei Yuan's age and cultivation, he had likely witnessed more than most. If I played it right, I might be able to loosen his tongue and extract something useful.
"Hmmm…" I stroked my chin, pretending to hesitate. "I suppose I could use a break. But if we're doing this, I'd prefer it be just the two of us. I'm too old to entertain the younger generation."
I threw out the words in a deliberately grumbling tone, like an elder unwilling to be bothered by noisy juniors.
Hei Yuan raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "You can't be that old."
"Well, I feel like it."
He exhaled through his nose, as if debating whether to argue further, then shook his head. "Fine. Just the two of us."
I grinned inwardly. Hook, line, and sinker.