The Young Division Leader Everyone Talks About
Mike remained calm.
He slowly leaned back in his seat, the wooden chair creaking softly beneath his weight. The sound was faint, almost swallowed by the distant hum of the arena, yet it carried a strange sense of ease—like he didn’t belong to the tension surrounding everyone else. His long sleeves draped lazily over the armrests, the fabric shifting slightly as the afternoon wind passed through the open space.
Dust stirred lightly across the ground, caught in the golden slant of sunlight.
Then he spoke casually.
"Fellow Cultivator Tobias..."
Quiet filled the room before he spoke. Not a shout, just words arriving like footsteps on damp earth. They slipped through gaps others left behind. A steady pace pulled attention without asking. You listened because stopping felt wrong.
"If I’m not mistaken..."
A silence ca next - not long, yet loud in its presence. It pulled eyes toward it, tugged ears closer.
"The person you’re referring to..."
A mont of stillness returned. Eyes moved a fraction, not facing directly yet clearly aning sothing.
"Should be my junior brother from Athyst Summit Division."
His tone sounded relaxed.
Too relaxed.
But the mont those words left his mouth—
Shera, sitting nearby, stiffened.
It wasn’t dramatic. Not at first.
Just a slight tightening of his shoulders. A barely noticeable shift in posture.
Then it spread.
His brows imdiately furrowed, the line between them deepening as if carved by sothing sharper than irritation.
The na again.
That na.
Shera’s fingers slowly curled.
The movent was deliberate, controlled—but the tension behind it wasn’t.
"Leon again... Leon again."
His voice was low, almost muttered under his breath, but the irritation in it was obvious. It wasn’t just annoyance.
It was sothing deeper.
Sothing that had been building for a while.
"Why is he involved in everything?"
His grip tightened.
A faint cracking sound echoed as Shera’s clenched fists pressed harder against the armrest. The wood groaned softly under the pressure, the strain just shy of splintering.
The veins on the back of his hand bulged slightly, rising like thin cords beneath his skin.
That calm expression he usually maintained had completely vanished.
In its place—
Was sothing sharper.
Every ti soone ntioned Leon—
The frustration inside him didn’t just rise.
It burned.
Not like a spark.
Like a fla that had been waiting for air.
His breathing grew a fraction heavier. Not enough for most to notice—but enough to betray him to anyone paying close attention.
And unfortunately—
There were people paying attention.
Tobias raised an eyebrow when he heard Mike’s answer.
"Oh?"
There was interest there.
Genuine interest.
"So the rumors were true?"
His eyes glead with curiosity, a faint glint catching the light as his gaze sharpened.
"Athyst Summit Division really has a young division leader who reached the Sage Realm?"
The way he said it wasn’t mocking.
But it wasn’t fully believing either.
It was the tone of soone testing the weight of a story.
The na Athyst Summit Division was not unfamiliar to him.
But that familiarity didn’t belong to the present.
It lingered in mory.
Faint.
Distant.
It was tied to a ti when the division still carried presence... when its na ant sothing more than silence.
It was the legacy of the previous division leader.
A figure who once stood tall enough that even now, echoes of his existence still lingered in conversations like this.
But that was long ago.
Ever since that man passed away—
Athyst Summit Division had gone completely silent.
No students.
No movent.
No voices.
Just a mountain... and a na slowly fading into obscurity.
No activity.
No reputation.
The halls that once held disciples had grown empty.
The training grounds had turned still.
Even the wind that passed through its peaks seed quieter.
Many people had quietly assud that the lineage had already ended.
After all—
Everyone knew the personality of Cultivator Zeon.
That na alone carried a different kind of weight.
Not authority.
Not influence.
Obsession.
He pursued the Immortal Path with almost fanatical intensity.
Not ambition.
Not pride.
Sothing colder.
Sothing isolating.
Cultivation was the only thing in his world.
Nothing else held value.
Not alliances.
Not disciples.
Not legacy.
He had never accepted a single student.
Not once.
He had lived like a lone hermit atop Athyst Summit Division.
Detached from everything.
Watching nothing.
Caring for nothing.
Or at least—
That’s what everyone believed.
So when Tobias suddenly heard that a new division leader had appeared—
Naturally, he beca curious.
But beneath that curiosity—
There was calculation.
Because soone like that didn’t just "appear."
Not from a place like Athyst Summit Division.
Not under a man like Zeon.
Which ant one thing.
Sothing had changed.
Sothing significant.
Mike chuckled softly.
The sound broke the tension just enough to shift the atmosphere.
Not completely.
But enough.
His fingers tapped lightly against the armrest, slow and rhythmic, as if he was thinking—or perhaps just enjoying the attention.
"This junior brother of mine..."
"He was taken in by my Martial Uncle Zeon shortly before his death."
"He has a calm temperant."
"And he prefers to keep a low profile."
Mike paused briefly before continuing.
"It has been ten years since he entered Celestis Academy."
"For those ten years, he stayed alone on Athyst Summit Division, focusing entirely on cultivation."
"He rarely stepped outside."
"Unless sothing major happens within the academy..."
"You probably won’t see him at all."
As soon as those words were spoken—
A faint flicker of shock appeared in Tobias’ eyes.
But it vanished almost imdiately.
He lowered his gaze slightly, concealing the reaction.
"Ten years..."
His fingers slowly tapped the armrest.
"Sage Realm...?"
"Impossible..."
Tobias muttered the words under his breath.
His eyes gradually sharpened as he looked at Mike again.
How talented would soone have to be—
To reach the Sage Realm in ten years?
For people like them—
Cultivating to this realm often required a hundred years or more.
So cultivators remained trapped at the King Realm their entire lives.
Their lifespan would run out before they ever broke through.
Even among the countless geniuses across the Forsaken Domain—
Those capable of reaching the Sage Realm were extrely rare.
No matter how talented Leon was—
Reaching that level in just ten years...
It sounded almost ridiculous.
After a long mont—
Tobias slowly turned his head.
His gaze landed on the young man standing behind him.
Rex Vine.
The so-called Heavenly Saint.
A peerless genius born with the Instinct Supre Body.
His cultivation talent had shocked countless sects.
Even Tobias himself considered Rex Vine the greatest prodigy he had ever seen.
Looking at his disciple—
Tobias suddenly understood sothing.
There was only one possibility.
If Leon truly reached the Sage Realm in ten years—
Then his aptitude...
Was even higher than Rex Vine’s.
That thought made Tobias’ expression gradually grow serious.
Rex Vine’s talent was already abnormal enough.
If Leon surpassed even that—
Then what kind of physique did he possess?
A body beyond the Instinct Supre Body?
An Immortal Body?
The thought lingered in Tobias’ mind like a shadow.
---------
While the two elders were speaking—
Movent appeared in the distance.
A figure slowly approached across the training grounds.
The afternoon sunlight spilled across the arena as the figure walked calmly forward.
His steps were steady.
Unhurried.
Behind him followed three younger figures.
They walked together toward the arena.
Rex Vine suddenly narrowed his eyes.
His gaze locked onto the approaching man.
He imdiately leaned slightly toward Tobias.
"Teacher."
"That person..."
His voice carried a trace of excitent.
"That is the division leader of Athyst Summit Division."
"Leon."
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