A Storm Beneath the Surface
Leon frowned slightly when he heard the words.
"Treasure? An old turtle carrying a coffin? Could it be related to a Martial Emperor’s tomb?"
The thought didn’t co out of nowhere.
Deep down, he already had a vague answer.
So... I wasn’t the only one who noticed it.
The uninhabited region of the Forsaken Domain had never been truly silent. It only looked that way on the surface. Beneath it—currents had always been moving.
Now, those currents were breaking through.
If even ordinary cultivators had started sensing sothing, then the truth was simple—
The tomb... was about to erge.
Leon’s gaze grew deeper.
Originally, his plan had been clear.
After the Martial eting, he would enter seclusion for a year. Refine everything. Break through cleanly into the pinnacle Realm.
No distractions.
No risks.
But now...
The situation had changed.
The Eastern Wasteland was already trembling. Signs were appearing one after another. Chaos wasn’t coming—
It had already begun.
If he chose to stay in seclusion now...
He would miss it.
Miss everything.
Miss the turning point.
"...Looks like I’ll have to go down the mountain again."
The decision settled quietly in his mind.
No hesitation after that.
Harry, standing beside him, slowed his voice and continued,
"Senior... my father has already sent several experts from the family to the uninhabited region to investigate. If anything happens, news will be sent back imdiately."
Leon nodded.
A small gesture—but his eyes flickered slightly.
The Taylor family...
They weren’t just offering help.
They were making a statent.
We stand with you.
Clear. Direct.
Leon understood it instantly.
His gaze shifted briefly toward Harry.
The boy was still the sa—restless, a little shaless, always chasing beauty with his eyes—but beneath that surface...
He wasn’t useless.
Not at all.
Hmm... this kid is alright.
Leon didn’t say it out loud.
But the thought stayed.
Still—
Now wasn’t the ti.
Taking in a student wasn’t just about talent.
It was about timing.
About loyalty.
About the mont when soone chose you—not because they had to... but because they wanted to.
Let him walk a little further first.
Leon turned his gaze away.
"Alright. I understand. You may leave."
His tone returned to calm indifference, as if the matter had never weighed on him.
Harry blinked—
Then imdiately relaxed, like a burden had been lifted.
And just like that...
He went right back to scanning the crowd for beauties.
Priorities.
Unshakable.
—
Not far away, Maya also received the news.
Amaya’s family had sent word.
She read it quickly—just a glance—
Then folded it away without a word.
Her eyes drifted toward Leon.
For a mont.
Then away.
She said nothing.
But her thoughts... were anything but quiet.
—
On the arena—
The battle reached its end.
Just as Leon had expected.
Rias’s flas weakened.
Her breathing grew heavier.
Her Mana... drained too quickly.
Against soone seven stars above her—
This outco was inevitable.
In the end—
She lost.
Not crushed.
Not humiliated.
But pushed... until she could go no further.
Maya let out a long breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.
"Phew..."
Her fingers slowly loosened.
Then her gaze shifted to Leon again.
A strange look crossed her eyes.
"I really don’t know how you teach your students..."
Her voice was soft. Almost a whisper.
"Isn’t her combat strength too strong? A one-star Astral Realm fighting a seven-star Astral Realm... and they actually fought evenly for so long."
She paused.
"If it weren’t for the realm suppression... Athyst Summit Division might have won again."
There was no jealousy in her tone this ti.
Just... genuine amazent.
And a little helplessness.
Leon didn’t respond.
But the corner of his lips lifted slightly.
Maya sighed.
Too many Sacred Arts... too many resources...
If her Holy Water Division had even half of that—
Things would be different.
But reality wasn’t kind.
She lived carefully. asured everything. Distributed resources like counting coins.
Her students...
Fought with limits.
—
Rias walked back slowly.
Her steps were steady—but her eyes were downcast.
"Teacher... I’m sorry. I lost."
Leon looked at her.
Then—
He smiled.
A simple smile.
"I saw everything. You’ve already done your best."
His voice was calm, but it carried weight.
"Even if you lost... you didn’t lose your dignity. There’s nothing to be upset about."
Rias froze.
Then—
Her eyes lit up.
The heaviness in her chest... vanished almost instantly.
She had been ready to be scolded.
That’s how it worked in other Divisions.
Lose—and you’re blad.
But here...
It was different.
Teacher really is the best...
Her lips curved slightly.
"...Mn."
Her mood lifted.
Not completely—
But enough.
She turned, looking at Selena.
"Senior Sister... the next match is up to you."
Selena t her gaze.
There was no hesitation in her eyes.
Only clarity.
She turned slightly toward Leon.
"Teacher... I’ll go?"
Leon nodded.
"Okay. Go on."
No extra words.
No pressure.
Just trust.
Selena stepped forward.
Each step light.
Each step steady.
Her white robes swayed softly, the pale blue sash at her waist shifting with her movent. Silver hair flowed behind her like quiet frost.
When she reached the stage—
She stopped.
Arms crossed.
Athyst Mist Sword resting calmly in her hand.
Still sheathed.
Always sheathed.
No one had seen her draw it.
—
"The second match of the top eight—"
The Referee Elder’s voice echoed across the arena.
"Athyst Summit Division’s Selena... versus Gale Division’s Lior."
"Please co on stage."
Before the words even finished—
A figure moved.
Fast.
Clean.
A young man landed on the arena with a heavy step.
Boom.
Lior stood there.
Hamr in hand.
His presence exploded outward—like a battlefield general stepping into war.
Domineering.
Unyielding.
His aura alone made so weaker students instinctively step back.
"The main event is finally here..."
"Eldest Senior Sister of Athyst Summit Division versus Eldest Senior Brother of Gale Division..."
"Both are favorites to win. Let’s see who takes it today."
The crowd ignited.
Voices layered over each other.
Excitent surged.
"Lior is famous. Other than Shan, who can suppress him?"
"I’m betting on Gale Division."
"No, no... Selena is stronger."
"I’m telling you—Athyst Summit Division wins this."
"Don’t forget... until now, no one has forced Selena to draw her sword."
That last sentence—
Hung in the air.
Like a quiet blade.
Waiting.
For the mont it would finally be drawn.
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