After bringing home sixteen slaves, the household buzzed with activity. The diligent maids and guards scrubbed every corner, uprooted weeds, cleared rubble, and patched up broken doors. The place looked brand new.
Thunder left the eight guards under Carlos's command and the maids under Tifa's care—freeing himself of responsibilities.
Early in the morning, he practiced his footwork in the inner courtyard.
Disciples of the Talisman Sect walked the path of inscriptions, not martial arts, but they still trained in two essential skills—one of which was footwork. *Extraordinary* footwork. Without it, they'd be at a severe disadvantage in battle.
The Talisman Sect's footwork was called **Heavenly Master's Lingering Steps**, passed down by the founding ancestor. When combined with cultivation, it could leave enemies disoriented and helpless, creating the perfect opening to unleash talismanic spells.
The secret lay in one word: **rhythm**.
Mastering the rhythm's ebb and flow allowed one to evade even the fiercest attacks with minimal movement.
Unfortunately, Colin's body was weak. Thunder panted after barely half an hour of practice and had to sit down.
The footwork had three stages:
1. **Swift as a Hare**—moving with startling speed. Even ordinary people could achieve this, provided they were quick-witted.
2. **Phantom Trails**—leaving afterimages in one's wake, nearly invisible to the naked eye. This required cultivation; no mortal could reach it.
3. **Shrinking the World**—crossing vast distances in an instant, as if stepping through space.
In all recorded history, only the founding ancestor had mastered the third stage.
As for Thunder? He hadn't even reached the first.
*The road is long and arduous.* He sighed.
After an hour of practice and a few basic drills, Tifa called him for breakfast.
The house felt livelier now, but only Thunder sat at the dining table.
"Wait," he called as Tifa turned to leave. "Bring Uncle Oak here to eat with me."
Back when they were poor, Oak and Tifa had eaten with him without hesitation. But now, as servants, they hesitated to overstep.
Tifa glanced at him and nodded. She knew better than to refuse—unless she wanted a scolding.
After breakfast, Thunder stepped outside and saw Carlos crouched by the doorframe, slurping a bowl of porridge. After yesterday's bath and fresh clothes, he looked much sharper.
"How's it going?" Thunder clapped his shoulder. Carlos stood quickly, ready to bow.
"Keep eating." Thunder pushed him back down. "No formalities here."
"Thank you, young master." Carlos crunched on a pickled radish.
"From now on, no bowing. We're men—no need for stiffness." Thunder crouched beside him.
Carlos grinned and kept eating.
"Young master, we cleared a lot of rubble. I was thinking—we could build a rock garden in the courtyard."
"Do as you like. Just don't tear the house down." Thunder nodded. "You're in charge now. Use the men as you see fit."
"Understood."
"And once things settle, help the tenant farmers. They're poor folk—hard work for little reward. If they need muscle, lend a hand."
Carlos nodded. "We'll finish here first."
"Enjoy your meal." Thunder patted his shoulder and left.
A post-meal stroll aided digestion. Over two hundred acres of land were leased to thirty-odd families—all under the Colin estate.
The tenant village wasn't far. Thunder wandered over, and the farmers, now aware of their new landlord, greeted him respectfully.
Returning home, he headed to his study.
Yesterday's magic scrolls lay on the desk. Today's task: deciphering them.
In the Dragon-Tiger Sect, Thunder had only mastered the **Five Radiances Divine Lightning Talisman**. To survive in this world, one trick wouldn't suffice. Since he lacked proper talisman techniques, magic scrolls were his best bet.
Unfurling a basic fireball scroll, he sensed a faint, volatile energy.
Taking a deep breath, he channeled mana to his fingertips, drew a line across his forehead, and whispered:
**"Heavenly Master's Eyes—open!"**
Instantly, his pupils split into smaller duplicates. The scroll's patterns shimmered with visible ripples, fiery elements swirling along the inscribed paths.
**Heavenly Master's Eyes**—the second essential skill for Talisman Sect disciples.
To inscribe talismans, one had to control spiritual energy's flow and form. These eyes pierced through illusions, revealing energy's true nature—an indispensable tool.
The world was full of deception. Mortal eyes saw only surfaces.
But the Heavenly Master's Eyes saw **truth**.
In essence, they were a lesser form of clairvoyance—lacking the ability to foresee the future or glimpse the past, but perfect for crafting talismans.
Maintaining them drained energy rapidly. Thunder memorized the fireball scroll's patterns in seconds before wiping his forehead. His pupils returned to normal, sweat beading on his brow.
If the Lingering Steps were the sect's dance of evasion, the Heavenly Master's Eyes were its **scalpel**—ensuring flawless talismans.
**Will Thunder unlock the secrets of magic—or will the scrolls consume him first?**