"Hahaha..."
It was not loud, nor boisterous. It was a low, hoarse chuckle that carried centuries of frustration, bitterness, and long-suppressed hope.
"Protection?" the Peak Head repeated, amused. "Ju Fan… if you succeed in cultivating that art, protection will be the least of your concerns."
He turned fully now, facing Han Yu head-on, his gaze sharp and burning with sothing dangerously close to excitent.
"You would not be my direct disciple," the old man said. "You would be the Legacy Disciple of the Second Kidney Peak."
The words struck Han Yu like a thunderbolt.
Legacy Disciple.
His mind blanked for a mont.
That title was not rely higher than a direct disciple. It was an entirely different category of existence within the sect. A legacy disciple was not chosen to serve an elder. They were chosen to replace one.
To be grood as a future Peak Head.
To be protected not just by one peak, but by the sect itself.
Han Yu's breath caught.
If he attained that status, Zhao Liun would be nothing. The First Kidney Peak Head would not dare touch him openly. Even political maneuvering would beco treacherous, because harming a legacy disciple was equivalent to sabotaging the sect's future.
If Zhao Liun learned Ju Fan had such a status, the man would co crawling on his knees, begging for forgiveness for his past acts. Perhaps even the Zhao, Wen and Qing clans would do the sa and willingly hand over all that they had taken along with interest.
More than that…
The Sect Patriarch himself would take interest. Such protection was offered to every Legacy disciple. And this fact was not limited to the Slaughtered Moon Divine Blood Sect, it was for every sect in the world, even the Twin Leaf Peak Sect.
A lost legacy returning was not rely a personal triumph. It was a symbol. A reinforcent of the sect's foundation. Sothing that strengthened the Blood Sect's standing on the Blood Continent even further.
Han Yu felt his heart pound.
He had never imagined that such an opportunity would present itself to him. Not in his ho sect. Not after becoming a fugitive. And certainly not in an enemy sect he had infiltrated out of desperation.
And yet here it was.
Offered not as charity, but as recognition.
Then the Peak Head spoke again.
"Unfortunately," the old man said calmly, "I do not possess the technique."
The excitent in Han Yu's chest was extinguished as if doused with freezing water.
He stared, stunned. "You… don't have it?"
"Of course not," the Peak Head replied. "If I did, would I still be standing here stuck at the Dao Shell realm? I would have long since tried to practice that technique instead. If not , I'd take on another disciple who could do it."
Han Yu frowned deeply. "Then… what am I supposed to do?"
The Peak Head waved a hand dismissively. "The technique is not lost."
Han Yu's eyes narrowed. "It isn't?"
"No," the old man said. "It was never lost."
He turned his gaze upward, as if staring through the warehouse ceiling and into the heart of the sect itself.
"It has always been kept where it belongs. Waiting."
The old man paused.
Then spoke the words that made Han Yu's expression change completely.
"The Freezing Abyss Glacial Art is sealed within the Inheritance Stelae."
Han Yu's brows knitted together instantly.
Of course.
The Inheritance Stelae.
One of the most sacred, most mysterious structure within the Slaughtered Moon Divine Blood Sect.
A place whispered about more than it was spoken of.
It was said that every cultivation technique, secret art, forbidden thod, and incomplete legacy the sect possessed was etched within it. Not carved physically, but imprinted through will and Dao.
Legend claid that the founder of the sect himself had forged it, sealing a fragnt of his consciousness inside. That fragnt judged those who entered. Granted knowledge only to those deed worthy.
Han Yu had heard all of this before.
But he had also heard the other side.
That entering the chamber housing the Inheritance Stelae required an absurd price.
"One hundred thousand rit points," Han Yu muttered.
The Peak Head nodded. "For a single entry."
Han Yu's lips tightened.
That amount was enough to cripple most inner disciples. Even core disciples would hesitate. Worse still, there was no guarantee of success.
One could enter, stand before the Stelae, and leave with nothing.
rit points gone. Ti wasted. Opportunity lost.
That was why almost no one dared to go.
Why gamble on uncertainty when nearly every known technique could be obtained through libraries, elders, or sect repositories?
Only those with excess rit points, overwhelming confidence, or utter desperation attempted it.
"In the last hundred years," the Peak Head continued, "fewer than ten disciples have entered the chamber."
Han Yu was not surprised.
"And nearly all of them were top-tier core disciples," the old man added. "People with nothing to lose."
Han Yu fell silent.
But his mind was racing.
One hundred thousand rit points.
Normally, that would have been an insurmountable wall.
But now…
He had nearly five hundred thousand.
More than enough.
The realization made his heartbeat quicken.
The Peak Head observed him closely. "You are thinking that this is easy now," he said. "Do not misunderstand."
Han Yu looked up.
"rit points are only the entry fee," the old man said. "They do not guarantee success. The Stelae will judge you. Your will. Your Dao. Your capacity to endure."
He leaned forward slightly.
"And if the Stelae deems you unworthy… the Freezing Abyss Glacial Art will never reveal itself to you. No second chance."
Han Yu t his gaze, calm but resolute.
"I understand."
The Peak Head studied him for a long mont.
Then, slowly, he smiled.
"That," he said, "is exactly why I am willing to gamble everything on you."
The warehouse remained frozen, silent, and sealed.
And in that stillness, Han Yu realized sothing profound.
This was not rely an opportunity.
It was a turning point.
One that could reshape not only his fate, but the future of an entire peak.
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