When Grace Sherwood’s call failed to connect, her heart tightened. She imdiately ordered her people to find them.
She cast a complicated glance at the girl nearby, who was engrossed in reading the Sherwood Clan’s heirloom Sheepskin Scroll.
Just then, the girl suddenly looked up and shot her a glance. "You made a move?"
Grace Sherwood was at a loss for words.
Dawn Miles watched her for a mont, then seed to sigh. "He promised he wouldn’t strike first. But if you were the ones to initiate, he would definitely fight back."
Grace Sherwood’s expression imdiately soured.
After a long while, a call ca in from Grace Sherwood’s confidant.
"Family Head, we’ve found them..."
"How are they?"
"They’re badly injured and have been taken to the hospital, but... it was our n who opened fire."
Grace Sherwood froze, her face turning pale. "What did you say?" she asked in disbelief.
Dawn Miles overheard the voice from the phone and said calmly, "Your n were likely drugged by him. His mother was the head of a division in an underground lab. He has plenty of drugs like that..."
After hanging up, Grace Sherwood’s shoulders slumped as if she had suffered a great blow.
Dawn Miles pointed at the Sheepskin Scroll, changing the subject. "What is this secret about the Harrow Clan that your clan supposedly discovered?"
But after staring at her for a long mont, Grace Sherwood suddenly walked over to Dawn Miles and offered her the Family Head Order she wore.
"Miss Sinclair, the secret of the Harrow Royals is in here."
"Back then, my clan’s ancestor was the leader of the Late Emperor Harrow’s Imperial Guard. He followed the emperor on his campaigns, earning countless rits, and the Late Emperor Harrow specially bestowed this item upon our clan..."
"But after the Late Emperor died, the new emperor suddenly lost his trust in our clan. He exiled us here under the false charge of rebellion. Forty years later, the new emperor suddenly ordered our clan to return the items the Late Emperor had gifted us, promising a pardon in return..."
"The Late Emperor had gifted our clan many things, but most were lost during our exile, leaving us with only a Cultivation Technique and this Token. Our clan’s matriarch at the ti handed over the Cultivation Technique but kept the token as a nto of the Late Emperor. We never expected that after the Kanes—our guards—took the technique, they would never return..."
Dawn Miles looked at the Family Head Order in her hand. It was a Token forged from so unknown material.
It was jet-black, with the two archaic characters for ’The Azure Clan’ carved on the front, surrounded by a unique pattern.
She reached out, took it, and began to examine it closely.
On the back of the Token was the image of a strange beast. It looked bizarre, yet she found it very familiar, as if she had seen it sowhere before.
"So the new emperor never pardoned you?" Dawn Miles asked.
Grace Sherwood shook her head. "After the Kane Family left, they never ca back. Later, my ancestor, having lost all hope, wrote all of this down on this Sheepskin Scroll."
’Sheepskin Scroll? That’s right...’
The Sheepskin Scroll in her lockbox had this very sa pattern.
A glimr appeared in Dawn Miles’s eyes, and she examined the Token in her hand again.
"How did you know there was a secret in this?"
From an heirloom box beside her, Grace Sherwood carefully took out a piece of silk cloth, burnt until only a small fragnt remained. She then cautiously unrolled it for Dawn Miles to see.
"During the Middle Ages, descendants of the Beastn Tribe, who had lived for years in the Boreal Reaches, actually ca here. And they brought news: the Harrow Dynasty had already been overthrown late in the Ancient Tis..."
Dawn Miles thought for a mont, then suddenly asked, "Are the descendants of the Beastn Tribe from the Yamada Clan?"
Grace Sherwood nodded. "This was recorded by an ancestor nad Florian Sherwood. It ntions that in the Ancient Tis, for so reason, after three great Martial Gods fell, a Martial God nad Tristan Winslow overthrew the Harrow Dynasty. But unfortunately, this is all that remains of the record..."
As Dawn Miles stared at the text and patterns on the silk cloth, she suddenly froze. She compared the Token in her hand to the pattern at the very bottom of the cloth—they were identical.
Seeing she had noticed, Grace Sherwood said, "It’s because of this piece of silk that my great-grandfather believed the secret our ancestor discovered was related to this Token."
Dawn Miles thought for a mont, then spoke softly to the device on her arm, "Ditto Miles, analyze the composition of this Token."
"Yes, Master."
Imdiately, a red light emanated from the device on her arm and began scanning the Token. But after more than ten minutes, it still hadn’t produced a result.
"Apologies, Master. The material of this Token is beyond Ditto Miles’s knowledge base. I recomnd you find Ditto Miles’s father for an analysis."
’Alvin Morgan said Ditto’s knowledge reserves were equivalent to a world-class encyclopedia, and yet it can’t analyze this?’
At that mont, Grace Sherwood walked up to her, lowered herself, and knelt directly in front of her.
"Miss Sinclair, I can lend you this item for your research, but I wish for a promise in return. If you agree, the Sherwood Clan will henceforth regard you as our honored guest. Should you ever be in trouble, our clan will do everything in its power to protect you."
"What promise?"
"To never be an enemy of the Sherwood Clan!"
***
「Elsewhere.」
Alvin Morgan threw a punch, smashing it into the target of a newly developed testing machine.
A chanical system voice echoed from within:
"Congratulations. Your Punching Power is 932, your Punch Speed is 0.25 seconds. Your strength is equivalent to a Warrior Sixth Rank."
The Morgan n standing nearby were so shocked their jaws nearly hit the floor.
Beta Morgan blurted out, "Sir, is there a problem with this new machine?"
Alvin Morgan shot him a glance and took off the boxing gloves. "You try it."
Beta Morgan quickly covered his mouth, his shoulders slumping. He had a feeling his Sir was about to ss with him again.
Beside him, Benjamin Morgan pushed up his glasses. As if realizing sothing, he tried to suppress the excitent in his eyes. "Mr. Beta, you’re a Great Martial Master Fifth Rank now, right?"
"I’ve already reached Sixth Rank," Beta Morgan whispered back, afraid his Sir would punish him for being in a bad mood.
"In a mont, hit the center of the target with your full strength."
Beta Morgan cautiously took the gloves and put them on. He took a deep breath, his gaze sharpened, and he threw a swift punch.
Soon, the chanical voice sounded again:
"Congratulations. Your Punching Power is 2345, your Punch Speed is 0.15 seconds. Your strength is equivalent to a Great Martial Master Sixth Rank."
Beta Morgan was dumbfounded. He stared in disbelief at the display screen in front of him, which showed the sa information the machine had just announced.
"My God, is it that accurate?"
He then tried the old testing machine, and the values from both were not significantly different.
"What’s going on?"
Benjamin Morgan, unable to hide the joy in his eyes, said, "A while ago, Aurora told you that the existing testers could no longer asure her strength, so she asked you to modify one, right, Sir?"
Alvin Morgan didn’t answer him. He put on the old machine’s gloves and struck the center of the target with all his might.
After more than ten seconds, the machine displayed an error ssage.
Alvin Morgan said calmly, "The old testers use three criteria: Punching Power, speed, and ridian sensing. But for soone with injured ridians, the machine gives an error. So, by removing the ridian sensing and slightly modifying the program, my Combat Power can be read again."
"But Sir, a Martial Artist’s punch carries their Power, and the energy of that Power is different for everyone. How can that be asured?"
But Alvin Morgan just chuckled. "Do you really think the Combat Power standards set by the current International Martial Alliance are correct?"
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