Moments later, in the grand hall of Lothgar Jarl's mansion, Pay Ling—freshly scrubbed and still jittery—was summoned by the steward. Stepping inside, he froze. There sat Jarl Drainwood, his robes pristine and his demeanor as suave as ever, cradling the Soul-Beckoning Banner in his hand.
"Young Friend Pay," Drainwood greeted, his voice dripping with sorrow as he gently set the banner on a nearby ebony table. A heavy sigh escaped him. "I'm so sorry. That Human-Faced Spider was a savage beast. I arrived too late—your Senior Brother Chen Haunt fell to its jaws. I fought tooth and nail, nearly losing my life, just to snatch his relic back from its clutches."
"!!!"
Hell fucking yeah!
Pay Ling's heart did a little jig of joy.
Man-Faced Spider, you're a damn hero!
He wrestled his grin down, forcing his face into mournful sorrow before stepping forward. "Jarl, mi-lord, don't blame yourself, please," he said, his voice thick with fake sympathy. "No one wanted this tragedy. The dead are gone—please, take care of yourself."
Still, a niggle of doubt lingered. Pay Ling probed cautiously, "J-Jarl… what about the others? Do you know where my other senior brothers and sisters are?"
Drainwood's face crumpled further, his expression full of regret. "Alas, when I got there, I saw Young Friend Chen Haunt devoured by that demon monster. I searched high and low afterward, but…" He shook his head. "Nothing. I can only hope they made it out alive."
Pay Ling's stomach sank. Holy Sect above, please, let them be the spider's meal, he thought darkly. While their deaths meant no sect punishment for him, those vipers would still come for revenge, evidence or not. That was a big headache waiting to happen. Should he sneak out later, camp by the city gates, and finish them off himself if they tried to flee back?
As Pay Ling mulled over his options, Jarl Drainwood let out a wistful sigh. "Anyway, you were in the same team. Now you're the only one left, so Young Friend Chen's relic falls to you. This is the Summon Soul Banner—a top-tier, high-grade Dao Weapon among Qi Refinement stage cultivators. It even shines brightly among all the Dao Weapons recorded in the outer sect's Pavilion of Myriad Arts. Keep it. It'll guard your path and honor your squad's memory."
While speaking, Jarl Drainwood offered the banner with a single, graceful hand.
Seriously? This is too dang good to be true!
Hearing Jarl's words, Pay Ling's jaw nearly dropped, his lips twitching as he struggled to suppress a grin. He reached out instinctively, a polite word of appreciation half-formed on his tongue—but then his eyes snagged on Jarl Drainwood's spotless robes. A chill shot through him like a viper lunging at his face.
"Jarl!!!"
Pay Ling quickly shoved the banner back with his extended hands, his voice booming with righteous fervor. "No! Jarl! What kind of person do you take me for?! We juniors came to your domain merely to deliver a family letter—a trivial favor. Yet you welcomed us with lavish hospitality. That's family-level kindness! Your honor, not only shared critical intel about the horrors of the Man-Faced Spider but even bestowed spirit wine to aid our cultivation!"
He pressed closer, his eyes blazing with principled fury and regret:
"Such generosity rivals that shown to your own flesh and blood! Instead of repaying your kindness, Senior Brother Chen's squad provoked that spider demon monster, burdening Lothgar City with chaos."
With a decisive motion, he thrust the banner back into Jarl Drainwood's hands:
"After all this, how could I—Pay Ling—claim this artifact you painstakingly reclaimed? To do so would make me a shameless bastard! Let this banner serve as our token of apology!"
"Well… this... Though... But, it's not suitable," Drainwood murmured, his eyes misty with feigned reluctance. "This Summon Soul Banner has quite the reputation in the outer sect. Young Friend Chen and his squad members must have poured years of effort into it, slaving away to afford its forging since they joined the holy sect…"
"Exactly! That's why your honor must take it," Pay Ling shot back, his back drenched in cold sweat. This damn demonic sect is a pit full of vipers! He had fancied himself a low-profile expert, someone who could read people and situations clearly. But now, he realized he'd only scratched the surface of this so-called "kind-hearted senior." The true terror of this old fox's fangs was only just dawning on him.
At first, he'd thought Drainwood's rush to rescue and his detailed questioning about coordinates were acts of genuine concern. However —this old fox had been itching to hurry out, murder the entire squad, and loot their corpses! If Pay Ling hadn't noticed the pristine, spotless robes—proof that the "life-or-death struggle" was a lie—he might have accepted the Summon Soul Banner with joy, only to end up dead under the spider's fangs, just like Chen Haunt.
Now, staring at the banner, he didn't see a treasure. He saw a bloody death warrant!
Gripping Drainwood's hand firmly, he pleaded, "Jarl, please. If you refuse to take it, you're looking down on us humble Qi Refinement cultivators! You're saying our measly skills and this Summon Soul Banner aren't fit for your status!"
"No, that is not…" Drainwood wavered, his voice trailing off.
Seizing the momentum, Pay Ling swept his robes aside and dropped to his knees. "Jarl! We're all disciples of the Holy Sect! If you refuse, you'll chill the hearts of us Qi Refinement cultivators!"
His voice cracked with calculated grief as he continued, "Since Senior Brother Chen poured his soul into forging this banner, even in death, he'd want it wielded by a worthy master cultivator. What right does a junior like me have to claim it?"
Still kneeling, he raised his head in reverence. "Only in your hands, Jarl, can this high-grade Dao artifact shine without disgrace. Only then can Senior Brother Chen's passing soul rest in peace and happiness in the holy sect's heaven!"
"Oh, Young Friend Pay, what's all this about? Stand up, please!" Drainwood's stern face softened. With one hand, he scooped up the banner, and with the other, he hauled Pay Ling to his feet. "Fine, I'll accept it! We're both holy sect comrades, just like family kin. How could you kneel before me like this?"
With a slight sigh of relief, Pay Ling rose, his mask of deference still firmly in place.
The performance had been flawlessly executed, and now the Summon Soul Banner was safely in the hands of the old fox. Maybe I'm finally secure, he thought.
But then, a chilling realization struck him like a bolt of lightning.
Wait!
His spine iced over as he remembered the Blade of Life Hater strapped to his back—it, too, was an outstanding Dao weapon!
Otherwise, why would Lee Sagwon and his trio have tried to rob it from me at first sight?
Sweat beaded anew on Pay Ling's brow, this time born of sheer terror. Sure, he had wrapped the Life-Loathing Blade tightly after killing Lee Sagwon and his trio to avoid drawing unwanted attention, but now he was standing before a Foundation Stage cultivator!
What if Jarl Drainwood had some method to see through the disguise?
What if he noticed the weapon's true nature?
What now? Pay Ling's mind raced.
Should I hand the blade over?
But if I do, and this old fox still decides to silence me forever?
And without the Life-Loathing Blade, what weapon could I even wield?
Gritting his teeth, Pay Ling decided to wait and see. Maybe Jarl Drainwood hasn't noticed it yet. Why stir the pot unnecessarily?
The truth was, Drainwood Yowl hadn't paid any attention to the wrapped weapon on Pay Ling's back. To him, Pay Ling was just a fresh recruit to the sect—a mere fourth-layer Qi Refinement cultivator from a low-status clan. What treasures could such a junior possibly possess?
"Young Friend Pay, after all this…" Drainwood, pleased with Pay Ling's deferential attitude, stroked his beard, his tone growing even warmer. "When do you plan to go back to the holy sect?"
Go back to the sect?
Pay Ling's briefly settled nerves shot up again like a startled hare.
Go back my ass. No way in hell.
He had no idea how to scrape together the enormous amount of spirit stones needed to pay the fine. He'd much rather stay out here, lying low and finding ways to survive.
If he hadn't fled the sect back then, Chen Haunt's squad wouldn't have had the chance to drag him into their mess.
Now, Lothgar City was far, far away from the sect's reach. Lee Sagwon's trio's family clans probably couldn't touch him quickly. Chen Haunt's squad members were either dead or scattered, and the Summon Soul Banner had been accepted by Drainwood as his trophy. Pay Ling had dodged every trap so far.
Sure, Jarl Drainwood was a vicious old fox in this devil's domain, but his words were comforting, his tone kind-hearted. They were chatting like old pals. The man was shady, no doubt, but he had style—smooth and polished. Stayed in Lothgar felt much cozier than Pay Ling's so-called "home" in Deerspring.
He wanted to go nowhere!
Putting on a face twisted with mock distress, Pay Ling said, "Jarl, mi-lord, we came here to complete our tasks. My seniors are… gone, but I want to finish the task alone—to honor their spirits. So, I might need to trouble you a bit longer."