"Life Soul Grass?" Max blinked in surprise, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.
This rare herb was a treasure even to powerhouses. From what he rembered, it could elevate one’s cultivation by a small level instantly upon consumption, but it had a strict condition—it could only be used once in a lifeti, and had no effect thereafter. Even so, such a treasure was priceless, especially in a dire mont. Max’s fingers gently closed around it as he tucked it away carefully.
Just as Max was carefully putting away the Life Soul Grass and preparing to descend the fiery slope, his Three Dinsional Body suddenly flared with alertness. It was subtle—like a ripple in the air behind him—but to Max’s heightened perception, it might as well have been a scream.
He turned his head slowly, only to hear the sound of slow, mocking applause echoing through the volcanic haze.
"Pah, pah. Not bad. Not bad at all," a lazy, amused voice rang out. "A re ninth-level Master Rank trash able to kill not one, but two second-level Legend Rank experts? You’ve really opened my eyes today."
From the woods ahead, a figure erged, stepping through the fiery red mist like a phantom woven from shadow and steel. He was a young man, draped in a black robe that swayed slightly with each step. His features were refined and handso—sharp cheekbones, pale skin that glead faintly in the light, and eyes like pools of dark ink.
His presence was striking, almost blinding, like a sheathed sword barely containing its bloodlust. His long black hair fell loosely around his shoulders, giving him the aura of a wild and untad genius.
Standing calmly, he looked at Max with a smirk, his arms loosely behind his back, and spoke again. "It seems you’ve either stumbled upon so grand opportunity or use a secret technique to increase your strength to Legend Rank level. Which is it, I wonder?"
Max’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t underestimate anyone—especially not soone who could remain completely hidden from his senses until now. "Who are you?" he asked, his tone cautious.
The young man chuckled, slow and confident, then continued walking forward with an easy grace. "? Well, let introduce myself properly." He gave a casual nod, his smile growing wider. "My na is Glen."
Max’s heart sank a little. That na... it wasn’t unfamiliar. His expression turned heavy. "Glen... you’re the three-star genius known as Crazy Sword from the Absolute Sword Palace?"
Glen chuckled again and spread his arms theatrically, like an actor basking in applause. "That’s right. I’m flattered that my reputation reached even you."
Max’s gaze instinctively shifted to gauge Glen’s strength—seventh level of Legend Rank. It was the highest cultivation Max had seen so far in the secret domain. Not just that, the pressure Glen gave off wasn’t rely powerful—it was refined, honed like a weapon forged under extre pressure, like a killing machine in human skin.
But Glen didn’t imdiately move to kill him. Instead, he tilted his head slightly and said with what seed like genuine curiosity, "I’m not so bloodthirsty lunatic, you know. I’m reasonable. So how about this—tell how you’ve grown so strong while still at the Master Rank. The technique. The secret. The inheritance. Whatever it is, just tell ... and I’ll let you walk away."
Max didn’t answer right away. His thoughts churned. This was not a man to be provoked without reason—but neither could he allow himself to show weakness. He looked Glen dead in the eye and said, voice level, "I can tell you. But I have a condition."
A spark of amusent flickered across Glen’s face. "Condition?" he repeated as if Max had just told a joke. "Do you really think you’re in a position to negotiate with ?"
His voice dropped a pitch as he casually pointed at the ground—at the broken, blood-soaked corpse of Josh, still smoldering on the fiery earth.
"You killed a disciple of Thunder Monarch Hall," Glen said, his tone now colder, quieter. "Tell , what do you think will happen to you once they find out about that? Or better yet—what do you think they’ll do once they find out I know about it?"
His smile returned, but it wasn’t warm anymore—it was sharp. Predatory.
Max’s face darkened as Glen’s smug words settled in the air. "Are you threatening ?" he asked coldly, his tone coated in anger and disbelief.
But Glen simply smiled and shook his head, eyes gleaming with amusent. "No," he said calmly, flicking his hand through the air as if brushing away dust. "I’m not threatening you, Max. I’m just stating a simple truth. If you’re smart, you won’t play any tricks. Because by the ti this ends, if you make the wrong choice, you won’t just lose that pretty little herb you’re hiding—you’ll lose your life."
Max narrowed his eyes and responded with a sharp edge in his voice, "And what if I refuse?"
As he spoke, he deliberately tucked the Life Soul Grass back into his storage ring, never taking his eyes off Glen.
Glen chuckled, slow and mocking, and shook his head with exaggerated disappointnt. "You really don’t know how to choose, do you? I can’t even decide whether to admire your guts or call you a complete idiot."
He let out a sigh, almost as if he truly pitied Max. "Well, I guess I’ll have to waste a bit of ti taking your life. But maybe Arnold will owe a favor after this, so it won’t be for nothing."
That na made Max blink. "You know who I am?" he asked cautiously, the gears in his mind turning faster now.
"Of course," Glen replied, his tone almost cheerful. "You’re Max—the monster who killed a three-star mber of the Thunder Monarch Hall and that Heaven-grade genius from the Void Soul Tower. How could I not know?"
Max tilted his head, voice quiet and testing, "Then aren’t you afraid I’ll kill you too?"
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