The sky grew dark.
Lin Mu closed the dossier containing the mission summaries, his gaze drifting toward the overcast sky outside the window, fingers tapping unconsciously against the desk.
Half a month remained until the end of the three-month assessnt period. During this ti, Lin Mu had been gathering information on the top-ranked seed candidates.
After all, for soone determined to be the "house," unknown variables represented the greatest risk.
He had already uncovered the backgrounds of the top four—whether it was Lin Feng's connections, Lin Xue's thods, Lin Yan's ferocity, or Lin Ze's wealth, all fell within his calculations.
Only this dark horse who had erged from nowhere to claim fifth place—Lin Wuxie—remained like a thorn embedded in Lin Mu's ticulous intelligence network.
"In Black Blood Stockade, no one rises without reason."
Lin Mu stood, his eyes turning cold.
He retrieved the Steward token symbolizing his privileges from his robe and walked toward the secret archives in the deepest recesses of External Affairs Hall.
There, the original records of every clan mber from birth to present were stored.
The heavy stone door slowly opened under the urging of Prival Essence, and a musty sll of age rushed forth. Lin Mu lit an oil lamp and searched through the vast maze of shelves for quite so ti before finally pulling out the file belonging to "Lin Wuxie" from a dust-covered corner.
By the dim yellow lamplight, Lin Mu flipped through page by page, his brow furrowing ever deeper.
This wasn't rely a personal record—it was more like a cruel microcosm of the cultivation ecosystem at Black Blood Stockade's lowest levels.
Looking at those cold words on the file, Lin Mu fell into deep contemplation.
In Black Blood Stockade, talent didn't represent everything.
This was quite counterintuitive, since typically, cultivation talent was supposed to be a clan's hope for ascension.
However, as a small clan surviving in the cracks of Southern Border, Black Blood Stockade actually lacked complete inheritance. From the first generation Patriarch onward, they had basically relied on unorthodox cultivation thods.
Because of this, Black Blood Stockade's cultivation essentially followed one path to its end. The higher one climbed, the more difficult it beca.
If not for Lin Cang's extraordinary talent, he would probably have been stuck at Rank 3 Peak until death.
And this was the portrait of countless small clans throughout Southern Border. They all shared a common ailnt: internal resources were perpetually scarce.
The clan's core resources—Prival Stones, pills, Gu worms, guidance from elders—were all firmly controlled by the hands of a few direct lineage mbers.
The severing of inheritance was the greatest despair facing all branch mbers.
Even if you possessed B-grade aptitude, without the clan's support, relying solely on that ager monthly stipend, trying to nurture Gu worms and accumulate Prival Essence, trying to reach Rank 1 Upper Stage before age eighteen—it was virtually impossible.
"A comparison makes it clear."
Lin Mu calculated silently.
"In the original work, Gu Yue Village was a seed planted by the first generation Gu Yue, barely qualifying as a regional power with deep foundations."
"Even so, to cultivate an A-grade genius like Fang Zheng required the Patriarch's personal involvent and massive resource allocation just to let him break through to Rank 2 within a year."
"And Black Blood Stockade? Soone as formidable as Lin Feng, the Patriarch's nephew, the Supre Elder's only son, with unlimited resources and dicinal baths since childhood—at nineteen years old, he's only just ground his way to Rank 1 Peak."
"I myself relied on a transmigrator's foresight, grasping vast information advantages, depending on the Liquor Worm, on killing and robbing, black market trading, even scheming to gather wealth, just to achieve my current cultivation."
"So then, what did this Lin Wuxie have?"
Lin Mu's gaze fell on the key information in the file.
Lin Wuxie. Male. Twenty years old.
Status: Branch lineage orphan.
Biography: Parents died ten years ago during a mandatory clan hunting mission. No remains recovered.
Afterward, he lived alone in the most remote and filthy area of the stockade—the "Rotten Shed District." Solitary personality, taciturn, made no friends, attached himself to no one in power. An invisible nobody in the clan school.
A standard, utterly unremarkable "orphan" template.
But the anomalies hid within those inconspicuous routine records.
"Mission records show that two months ago, he was still an obscure disciple taking only nial tasks like 'hauling ore'."
Lin Mu's finger traced across the dossier. "But from the day the Grand Competition announcent was posted, he beca a different person."
His mission efficiency had tripled.
All high-intensity hunting missions. Kill ten Ironhide Boars today, gather a hundred stalks of Cliff Grass tomorrow, clear mine tunnels the day after.
This intensity would break even an iron man, let alone the constant fighting and Prival Essence consumption.
"The most bizarre thing is the supply consumption."
Lin Mu narrowed his eyes, keenly catching the biggest hole.
The records showed that at the clan supply depot, Lin Wuxie had only exchanged for the most basic dry rations and clean water.
He had purchased almost no healing dicines, no materials to repair Gu worms, and even bought very few pills to restore Prival Essence.
"Walk often by the river, and your shoes will get wet eventually. High-intensity hunting inevitably cos with injuries and depletion."
"If he doesn't buy dicine, how do his wounds heal? If he doesn't maintain his Gu, how does he sustain his combat power?"
Only two possibilities.
First, he possessed an extrely powerful defensive or healing Gu—perhaps even beyond Rank 1—that allowed him to ignore consumption. But where would an orphan living in the Rotten Shed District get the hundreds or thousands of Prival Stones to nurture such a Gu?
Second...
Lin Mu's mind instantly recalled those hollowed-out desiccated corpses he'd seen at the black market, and the descriptions of certain forbidden thods in that "Records of Strange Figures and Unusual Tales."
"Special recovery thods... such as demonic path techniques."
"Consuming flesh? Drinking blood? Or plundering life force?"
Lin Mu closed the dossier, feeling his fingertips turn cold.
If it truly was a demonic path thod, everything would make sense. Only the demonic path's approach of quick gains and mortgaging the future for power could allow a penniless orphan to explode with such terrifying combat strength in such a short ti.
"But..."
Lin Mu furrowed his brow, a flash of confusion in his eyes.
"If he really is a demonic Gu Master, or has secretly practiced demonic arts, he should be hiding like a rat in the sewers."
"Why would he so conspicuously participate in this high-profile True Inheritance competition?"
"Isn't he afraid of being discovered? Or does he have so assurance that he can evade Punishnt Hall's scrutiny, even deceive the eyes of the Rank 4 Patriarch Lin Cang?"
"Or perhaps he has so reason why he must obtain the 'True Inheritance' position—a reason worth risking his head for?"
Layers of fog.
Lin Mu returned the dossier to its place and extinguished the oil lamp.
In the darkness, that na "Lin Wuxie" seed to transform into an invisible face, hiding in the shadows, revealing a sinister cold smile at all those self-assured seed candidates.
"The fifth variable..."
Lin Mu walked out of the archives, looking at the sky that had turned completely dark.
"It seems that before I open the betting books, I'll need to personally visit that 'Rotten Shed District' and et this deeply hidden senior brother."
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