After spending another full month within the Dinsion of Ti refining his Void Severing Star Scripture, Max finally decided it was ti to step out and search for resources that could push him through the final stages of Divine Rank and into the Rebirth Realm.
His sword intent had grown sharper and calr, and his confidence was grounded rather than arrogant. However, the mont he prepared to leave his residence, a faint frown appeared on his face.
Through his Three Dinsional Body, Max could sense nurous presences scattered around his living quarters. So of them were hiding their auras poorly while spying from rooftops and corridors, so were openly waiting near entrances as if guarding prey, and so were even resting with closed eyes while maintaining a thin thread of perception locked onto his room.
The number of people involved was far greater than he had anticipated, and their intentions were anything but subtle.
"What the hell is going on here?" Max wondered as he paused before opening the door. He did not rush out imdiately and instead listened quietly, allowing the conversations outside to reach his ears. After several minutes of listening, the situation beca perfectly clear to him, and a cold smile slowly ford on his lips.
"They all have their eyes on my sword Dragonheart," Max sneered inwardly. The mont the news of him claiming the sword of the Dragonheart Sword Sovereign had spread, it was inevitable that countless sword cultivators would lose their composure.
To them, Dragonheart was not rely a weapon but a symbol of supre sword authority, and the idea that it now belonged to a newly joined outer disciple was sothing they could not accept.
"They believe that by challenging and defeating , they can claim my sword," Max thought with quiet disdain. "If that is truly how they see the world, then they are far more foolish than I imagined."
With that understanding, Max pushed open the door and strode out casually, his expression calm and his posture relaxed. The instant he appeared, the atmosphere around his residence changed completely.
Hidden figures revealed themselves, waiting cultivators straightened their backs, and eyes filled with greed, jealousy and ambition locked onto him.
"Max, I challenge you," a young man shouted imdiately, stepping forward with a sharp aura. "Do you dare to accept my challenge? Let us bet your sword in this duel."
Another voice followed before Max could even respond. "So you are the disciple who took the sword of the Sword Sovereign. I do not believe you are worthy to wield that blade. Hand it over if you lose, or fight if you have the courage."
More voices rose around him, overlapping with barely concealed hostility and excitent. Challenges were thrown openly, so polite, so arrogant, all centered around a single object.
Max stood there in silence, listening to them without a trace of anger on his face. His eyes remained calm, but within that calmness lay a sharp and dangerous edge. He did not feel threatened.
What he felt instead was a clear realization that from the mont he took Dragonheart into his hands, peace had already beco a luxury he no longer possessed.
"You want my sword? Guess what you won't getting it." Max said sneering loudly. "Now piss off!"
"What did he just say?" one disciple exclaid in disbelief, his eyes widening as if he could not believe his own ears after hearing Max's words spoken so bluntly in front of everyone.
"He told us to piss off?" another disciple repeated slowly, his face flushing red with anger as his aura fluctuated uncontrollably from the humiliation of being dismissed so casually.
"This brat is too arrogant!" a sword cultivator shouted furiously. "He thinks just because he took the Dragonheart Sword he can trample on everyone here."
"Does he even understand how many people want that sword?" soone else growled from the crowd. "That blade belongs to the Divine Realm, not to so newly arrived outer disciple."
"Hah, this is interesting," a calr voice said with a cold laugh. "The more arrogant he acts, the more certain I am that I must take that sword from him."
"He dares to provoke us openly," another disciple said through clenched teeth. "Good. Now no one can say we are bullying him when we challenge him."
"So this is his answer?" a woman muttered, her gaze sharp and calculating. "Fine. If he refuses to hand it over peacefully, then we will take it by force in a duel."
Around Max, the air grew tense as hostility thickened, anger, greed and ambition swirling together, while countless eyes burned with determination, because his words had not driven them away at all but instead had ignited sothing far more dangerous.
Max let out a slow sigh as he continued walking forward, his steps unhurried and steady despite the tension pressing in from all sides. He knew very well that direct combat was strictly forbidden outside designated battle arenas, duel grounds and sanctioned combat zones.
No matter how covetous or enraged these disciples were, none of them would dare to attack him openly here. Because of that rule, he moved through the gathering without fear, treating their hostile gazes as nothing more than background noise.
Yet even so, the crowd showed no intention of dispersing. They followed him closely, their footsteps echoing behind him, their eyes fixed on his back as if he were prey that might slip away if they blinked.
Max sighed again when he noticed that the crowd was not thinning out in the slightest.
Just as he began considering how to deal with this situation without escalating matters further, a sharp and commanding shout rang out across the area, cutting through the murmurs and whispers like a blade.
"Everyone get away!"
The voice was female, clear and forceful, and the mont Max heard it, a sense of familiarity struck him. He had heard that voice before. Before he could dwell on it further, the tightly packed crowd began to part, disciples stepping back instinctively as if pushed aside by an invisible pressure.
Soon, two figures erged from the opening that ford. The first was Carl, walking calmly yet confidently, his presence alone enough to make several disciples avert their gaze. Beside him stood the owner of the voice, Lucia Gris, her expression cold and authoritative as her eyes swept across the surrounding disciples.
"Damn, the Gris Family is here," soone whispered urgently as they retreated another step. "Get away from Max."
"I heard Max has connections with the Gris Family, but I never thought Lucia Gris herself would show up for him," another disciple muttered in disbelief. "This is insane."
"So does that an we cannot touch Max at all now that the Gris Family is backing him," a third voice said anxiously, the earlier bravado completely gone.
"What do you an touch him," soone argued stubbornly. "We are only asking for fair duels. If he cannot even accept a duel, then he is not fit to be a disciple of the Thirty Third Hall."
Despite those words, the expressions of the disciples surrounding Max grew increasingly strained as they took in Lucia's presence. The confidence they had shown monts ago began to crack, replaced by caution and unease.
Whatever ambitions they held toward Dragonheart, it was now clear that challenging Max was no longer as simple as surrounding him and shouting demands.
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