The tense discussion was over. Matthew Jas and two clan elders walked out of the compound together, bound for Grey Shadow Hall. Each man wore the sa tight smile, the kind you put on when you are being polite to people you would rather strangle. anwhile, their real plan was already in motion.
On the other side of the city, the Osborn delegation was also preparing for departure. John Osborn, accompanied by Elder Devon, Elder Alex, and his wife Mary, left their estate grounds with dignified composure. The four of them traveled in a well-appointed carriage, carrying the necessary docunts and prepared for what they hoped would be a smooth transition of market ownership.
anwhile, Robert made his way through the quieter corridors of the estate toward the alchemy hall. His newly ford Soul Seed pulsed gently within his consciousness, and he was eager to discover how this breakthrough might enhance his alchemical abilities.
Just as Robert reached the entrance to the alchemy hall and was about to push open the heavy wooden door, a familiar chi echoed in his mind. The translucent system interface materialized before his eyes without being summoned.
QUEST COMPLETE
Increase the clan's strength. Select two cultivators and raise their power to the Spirit Root level.
REWARD: 80,000 System Points
Robert blinked in surprise, a grin lighting up his face. According to the ssage, at least two of the five people he had given Spirit Awakening Pills to had made it to the Spirit Root Realm overnight.
He quickly checked his updated status: System Points: 80,420 points.
Robert could not help but grin when he saw how many points he had gained. Eighty thousand system points—that was serious money. He could finally afford so of the high-end stuff: better techniques, rare materials, maybe even so major upgrades that would help both him and the clan level up.
The timing could not have been better. "With his father busy dealing with all the political stuff at Grey Shadow Hall, Robert was free to work on building up the clan from within—the kind of improvents that would matter in the long run."
These points represented more than just numbers—they were the foundation for transforming his clan into a truly formidable force.
"Robert closed the system interface and pushed through the alchemy hall doors, his thoughts racing about what he could buy with all those points."
However, before diving into system upgrades, he decided it would be wise to personally inspect the west market that would soon belong to his clan. Understanding the current state of their new asset would help him plan the most effective ways to increase the clan's overall strength.
Leaving the alchemy hall, Robert made his way quietly through the estate corridors. With the leadership delegation away at Grey Shadow Hall, he could slip out unnoticed.
He changed into simpler robes that would not imdiately identify him as an Osborn clan mber and left the compound alone, heading toward the west market district.
In the anti, at Grey Shadow Hall, a beautifully decorated private room was all set up for the distinguished guests. Elder Delvin was comfortably settled in a plush chair, chatting away with Miss Sarah, the representative from Grey Shadow Hall who had been managing the market transfer negotiations.
A gentle knock on the door interrupted their conversation right in the middle of a sentence.
'Co on in,' Elder Delvin responded."
An attendant entered the room and bowed respectfully. "Elder Devon, the Osborn clan leader, has arrived with his delegation."
Elder Devon nodded appreciatively. "Please bring them here."
After a few monts, the door opened again to admit John Osborn, followed by Elder Alex, Elder Devon, and Lady Mary. The four walked in with a sense of dignity, their clan robes perfectly tidy and their faces showing a mix of respect and confidence.
"John Osborn entered with his people and gave Elder Delvin and Miss Sarah a respectful bow. The two greeted them back with friendly smiles."
"Please, have a seat," Elder Delvin said, gesturing toward the chairs arranged around the low table.
"John Osborn acknowledged with a brief nod before sitting down, while Elder Alex, Elder Devon, and Lady Mary took their places nearby.
When everyone was settled in, Elder Delvin started the discussion. "I have heard so impressive news about your clan recently—particularly regarding young Robert's latest achievent."
"John Osborn could not help but smile a little as he nodded. 'Absolutely. Robert's been doing incredible work lately. The kid keeps making us all proud.'"
"Elder Delvin nodded his approval, and then they started getting down to business."
After they spoke for so ti, another soft knock ca at the door.
"Co in," Elder Delvin called, his tone even but carrying the quiet authority of soone long used to command.
The sa attendant stepped inside and bowed. "Elder Delvin, the Jas clan representatives have arrived."
"Bring them in," Elder Delvin instructed.
"Matthew Jas walked in a few seconds later with two clan elders right behind him. You could tell just by watching them move—slow, confident, like people who were used to being in charge. "You could feel the mood shift imdiately when they appeared—people straightened in their chairs, conversations died down."
"Everyone exchanged perfectly polite greetings, the kind of formal courtesy that cos from years of official etings."
To anyone watching, it was all proper etiquette. To those who knew better, it was a performance—a delicate play of masks where neither side could afford to show the first crack.
Matthew's face betrayed no hint of displeasure, though beneath that calm exterior was the quiet frustration of a man who knew he had no power to challenge Grey Shadow Hall's authority.
The Osborn delegation and Elder Delvin returned the greeting with equal formality, the air thick with unspoken tension. Even Lady Mary, seated in dignified silence, kept her gaze level, her hands folded in perfect composure.
"'Please, sit,' Elder Delvin invited, indicating the chairs opposite his position.
Turning to the attendant, he added, "Bring so tea for our guests."
"After a quick bow, the attendant stepped out. He reappeared monts later with a silver tray holding several beautiful teapots. Hot steam rose from each one, bringing the warm sll of tea with it."
Working his way around the table, the attendant carefully positioned a fine porcelain cup before each person seated there. Every movent the attendant made was controlled and graceful as he poured the tea. Even he seed to understand that everything here was part of the larger ceremony.
Everyone accepted their cup, lifting it in quiet acknowledgnt before taking the first sip.
Silence stretched between them, broken only by the gentle click of porcelain eting wood as each cup found its place.
Polite words resud shortly after, each one chosen with care, their aning layered beneath the surface.
A few minutes later, Robert reached the west market.
The streets leading there felt different from usual—too still.
"Most days, the street was full of noise—vendors advertising their goods and hamrs ringing out from the blacksmith stalls."
Barely anyone was using the road ahead. Old, weathered cobblestones ford a path that seed to go on forever.
"The second he entered the marketplace, an uneasy feeling crept up his spine. Shuttered stall after shuttered stall stretched out before him, with only slivers of light sneaking through the gaps in their wooden covers.
Before he could take another step, the system's voice chid in:
NEW QUEST
Defeat the enemy and save the market.
REWARD: 100,000 System Points.
The ssage echoed in his mind before fading, leaving only the sound of his steady breathing.
His instincts had been right. Danger was here.
Robert slipped into a narrow, shadowed alley between two abandoned spice shops. The planks beneath his boots creaked, and the scent of dust and stale herbs hung in the air. He pulled a black combat outfit from his storage ring and quickly changed, drawing the mask tight over his face until not a hint of his identity remained.
If a confrontation were on the horizon, it would not trace back to the Osborn clan.
"Could the Jas clan really pull this off? The question nagged at him as he fiddled with his gloves, trying to get them comfortable. Would they dare to provoke the wrath of Grey Shadow Hall to undermine our foothold before we even have it?
He wanted to dismiss the thought, but in this city, disbelief was not a defense—it was a weakness. He closed his eyes briefly, recalling the market's layout in detail. Four exits, two choke points, one main thoroughfare running through the center.
The strategy would involve managing their movents—cutting off their path to safety before they even know they are being chased.
"Soone's boots clicked on the stone, breaking his concentration."
Four figures stepped into view at the far end of the market, their shapes ghostly through the thin morning mist.
Unlike common thieves, they wore deep red cloaks over black gear, the cloth shifting in sharp contrast with their masked faces. Each movent was deliberate, their balance perfect, betraying the training of hardened fighters.
Even from here, Robert could feel the weight of their spiritual energy. All four were Body Tempering Level 9, a level of cultivation that would overwhelm ordinary guards in monts.
"He glanced at the market corners where the guards were supposed to be. Nothing. Just space."
Nothing. The Jas clan had withdrawn their n, leaving the place defenseless—a perfect stage for sabotage.
Robert's lips curved into the faintest smile beneath his mask.
If this is their opening move… They have no idea what is about to hit them.
The stillness deepened, stretching long enough for Robert to feel the air grow heavier, as though the market itself was holding its breath.
"And he had every intention of being the one to make it work."
The quiet west market was about to turn into a battlefield.
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