Seeing her anger, the man who had first spoken earlier once again broke the silence, a subtle smirk of amusement playing on his lips as he observed her growing fury.
"Well, well… what do we have here? Still holding onto past grudges? That's not like you," he said, his voice dripping with mockery, his eyes glinting with the satisfaction of provoking her.
The woman turned her gaze toward him, her expression cold, her anger steadily rising. "Do you want me to kill you?" she asked, her voice icy as a dangerous aura slowly began to seep from her body. The oppressive energy coiled around the room, growing stronger with each passing second. Yet, the man merely smiled, seemingly unfazed, even as he felt her aura pressing against him.
Before the woman could say another word or let her power surge further, the third man—the one who had remained silent thus far—finally spoke. Though his lips held a faint smile, his tone carried a warning, a clear desire to prevent unnecessary chaos.
"Can you two settle this another time?" he asked lazily.
Both the woman and the smirking man turned their attention toward him.
"You think I take orders from you?" she scoffed, her voice dripping with contempt.
The man, however, didn't seem the least bit bothered. If anything, he looked even more amused by the situation.
But before their brewing conflict could escalate further, the fourth and final man—the one who had arrived last—finally spoke, his voice carrying a detached indifference.
"Shouldn't we focus on the meeting and its actual purpose?" he asked, his tone emotionless, his gaze revealing just how little he cared for being here.
Hearing this, the woman clenched her fists, recalling the true reason for this gathering. Though she did not forget the smirking man's earlier mockery, she forced herself to shift her focus. Clearing her throat, she straightened up, though the lingering anger in her expression had not completely faded.
"Ahem… back to the real matter at hand," she said, her voice sharp as a blade. "That wretched woman… Who wants to start?" Her gaze swept over the three men, her cold eyes demanding an answer.
A chuckle broke the silence.
"Hmm… perhaps I should go first?" The smirking man—clearly relishing the tension in the room—volunteered with amusement.
The others turned their heads toward him, waiting for him to speak.
"Let's begin with her most recent actions," he said, still wearing that same infuriating smirk. "Her movements have become increasingly bold… and as for the Serene Cloud Pavilion—or rather, its members—they have grown far too brazen. Not to mention, they've recently gained access to a naturally formed pocket dimension… a realm that likely holds invaluable treasures."
At his words, the others exchanged glances. Their expressions seemed to ask, "Is that all you have to say?"
Noting their unimpressed reactions, his smirk didn't waver. Instead, it widened slightly as his gaze landed on the woman.
"What? Would you prefer if I also mentioned that you lost an eye because of Grace De Lumier?" he added, his tone deliberately taunting as he gestured toward her—or perhaps, toward the eye she had lost.
"YOU BASTARD! How dare you bring that up?" she roared, slamming her fist onto the table with such force that it shattered instantly. A violent surge of her aura exploded outward, thick with killing intent.
But before she could unleash her full wrath, she suddenly felt two distinct waves of murderous intent pressing down on her from either side. "One more move… and you die," their unspoken message was crystal clear.
She gritted her teeth, her body stiff as she weighed her options. She knew the rules of this meeting—knew that continuing down this path would only lead to consequences she couldn't afford. With visible reluctance, she withdrew her aura and sat back down, though fury still simmered beneath her skin. The moment she did, the two oppressive presences that had threatened her slowly faded.
The smirking man—Loki—watched her with amusement.
"Livia, you don't have to be so tense," he teased, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. "After all, losing your eye permanently… is no big deal, right?"
Despite her efforts to stay calm, Livia's killing intent flared once more, barely restrained.
Before things could spiral out of control again, the third man—the one who had initially tried to de-escalate—spoke up, his expression now devoid of its earlier amusement. Instead, his face was serious, his tone carrying a quiet authority.
"Enough," he said firmly. "We're here to handle important matters. That includes you as well, Loki." His sharp gaze locked onto the troublemaker.
Livia remained silent, her chest rising and falling as she struggled to contain her emotions. Loki, on the other hand, merely raised his hands in mock surrender, his ever-present smirk remaining intact.
"Alright, alright," he said, as if indulging them.
Satisfied with their compliance, the man continued, shifting the discussion back on track.
"Now then, let's finish where you left off…."
A brief pause settled over the room before he spoke again.
"Regarding Grace De Lumier… this meeting shouldn't have been solely about her. But due to her recent actions… we have no choice." He leaned forward slightly, his voice growing more serious.
"Grace De Lumier… A girl whose talent has proven to be monstrous. Despite being only four thousand years old, she has already reached the Soul Transformation Realm… a fact we are all aware of. However, what is truly astonishing is not just her cultivation level—but how she achieved it."
He let those words hang in the air for a moment before continuing.
"She did not spend her entire life cultivating. No… she reached this level in just a thousand years. Normally, achieving the Soul Transformation Realm takes over seven thousand years… and we all know the fundamental truth about cultivation."
His eyes scanned the room, ensuring the weight of his words sank in.
"The maximum lifespan of a cultivator in the Space Traveling Realm is only 5,300 years… and that's without factoring in heavenly tribulations or the immense difficulty of breaking through from Space Traveling to Soul Transformation. Yet she did it in a mere thousand years."
His voice grew heavier, each word deliberate.
"And if that wasn't enough… she is already at the Late Sub-Realm of Soul Transformation. But instead of focusing solely on further cultivation… she has now shifted her efforts toward comprehending the Laws—not just one, but several."
With those final words, he fell silent, his gaze sharp as he observed the reactions of the others
"It's true," Livia said, her voice laced with anger. "That wench... In her youth, she was the Saintess of her sect, and now she is its master. No one dares to hinder her cultivation... not to mention that her strength has nearly reached the Realm of Law Glimpse..." She trailed off, her fury intensifying.
"If it weren't for that, I would have crushed her!" she finally shouted, slamming her fist on the table and once again releasing her oppressive aura as a bitter reminder of her humiliating defeat.
Hearing her outburst, Loki merely smiled but said nothing. However, the man who had remained mostly silent since the beginning of the meeting finally spoke up.
"You are all correct..." he began, his tone calm yet firm. "But... we all know very well that this girl... she hails from one of the three Ancient Families... and they have always possessed formidable ancestors. I'm talking about cultivators who reached the Realm of Mystical Tribulation..." His voice remained steady, unaffected by the weight of his own words.
The remaining three, however, felt an involuntary shiver run down their spines. The mere thought of such power was enough to unnerve them.
"Still, we cannot be certain of this," he continued. "After all, the oldest and most powerful cultivator is from the Timeless Sea Family, and as far as we know... his cultivation stands at the Realm of Body Integration, Sub-Realm Four." His expression remained composed as he finished speaking.
Hearing this, Livia let out a small chuckle before breaking into laughter.
"Hahaha... Right, right... There's no way that wench has an ancestor still alive and at such a level," she said mockingly, dismissing the possibility as she tried to push the thought aside.
"And yet... we must consider the possibility," the man who had been sitting with Livia and Loki before the quiet one arrived interjected once more.
Loki, still smiling, turned his gaze toward Livia.
"Zaheer is right, Livia... Remember what you tried to do to her," he said, his smirk widening slightly.
At his words, a small bead of sweat formed on Livia's forehead, a sign of her unease. Before she could respond, Loki spoke again.
"But you know, Livia... I have a proposal for you," he said, his tone carrying an air of intrigue.
Livia turned to him, a flicker of surprise crossing her face, mirroring the curiosity of the others in the room.
......
Meanwhile, Evan was engaged in conversation with Soren, discussing various topics. However, the stories of Soren's youth fascinated Evan the most. One might assume they wouldn't be particularly interesting, given that the man was merely a low-realm cultivator, yet Evan found himself slowly growing to respect him as he listened to his experiences.
As they talked, Evan occasionally asked him trivial questions between stories. Though unimportant, these small exchanges brought him unexpected joy, and he continued to listen with enthusiasm.
.....
An hour and a half later
Evan left Soren's house and began heading home, knowing that dinner time was approaching. He had no intention of being late.
…
A few minutes later
Upon arriving home, Evan saw David and William practicing swordsmanship. He observed their movements closely, attempting to memorize them, as he had done several times over the past few days. However, despite his growing memory, thanks to his cultivation, he still struggled to retain the techniques.
"Haaaaa..." he sighed inwardly, contemplating a solution that he had already known all along—he needed to learn swordsmanship through personal experience.
Previously, Evan had asked the system why he was having such difficulty, and it had responded that, in most cases, true mastery of the sword only came with practice. It was a truth he had quickly come to understand.
Noticing Evan approaching, both David and William smiled slightly. David immediately halted his training and walked up to his younger brother with a grin.
"So, how was your day?" he asked, curious about Evan's morning.
Evan responded with a small smile. "It was pretty good. I played with Vivian and won every time... and I also went to Mr. Soren's to read some books," he said, his voice carrying a hint of satisfaction as he recalled his victories over Vivian.
"Hmmm..." David mused, raising an eyebrow as he rubbed his chin. A moment later, he quickly leaned in closer to Evan and whispered into his ear.
"You like her, don't you?... Actually, it's always been obvious," he teased, smirking.
Hearing his brother's words, William smirked slightly, amused. However, Evan's reaction was completely different.
"What?! NO! That's not it!" he shouted directly into David's face, his expression flustered. A bead of sweat formed on his forehead as he thought to himself in panic, "I'm not a pedophile!"
David, momentarily confused by Evan's outburst, scratched the back of his head before realization struck him.
"Ahhh... Right, you don't remember that you used to like her!" he said, finally recalling that his younger brother had lost his memory.
From the window, Sophia had been listening to their entire conversation. She smiled slightly, but deep down, she still worried. After a brief moment, she stepped toward the door and called out loudly,
"Dinner!"
Upon hearing her voice, all three immediately rushed inside.
.
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[A/N:
Hi! I hope you enjoyed this chapter because I had a lot of fun writing it. If you liked it, I'd really appreciate it if you added this book to your library and didn't forget to give this poor author a power stone! That's all from my side—I really hope the chapter was okay. Have a great day!]