The trek down the mountain road was grueling, but by the ti the group crossed the threshold back into the border town, the heavy mantle of night had completely failed. Dragging the titanic carcass of the Silver-Horned Boar through the dusty streets imdiately drew a crowd.
Whispers erupted from the onlookers. Many of the local rchants and lower-class laborers recognized Mary and her children, knowing full well that the small family possessed neither the numbers nor the raw strength to fell a high-tier beast like this. Their eyes naturally shifted to the ragged, dirt-caked boy walking beside them, his shoulders slouched under the weight of a blackened piece of scrap tal. Ethan looked incredibly fragile, his clothes torn and his posture weak, making the feat look entirely abnormal. The contrast was striking, instantly generating a wave of intense curiosity among the crowd.
This was exactly the reaction Ethan had engineered. While standard protocol dictated maintaining a completely invisible profile, he knew that an untraceable refugee with zero presence would eventually trigger deep counter-espionage protocols from a highly paranoid sect. By intentionally flashing his "fangs" just a tiny bit—presenting himself as a desperate survivor who happened to possess a freakish, natural physical strength from his forr village—he was actively baiting the local guards to investigate his background. Once they ran his identity against the bulletproof, brainwashed witnesses the White Unicorns had planted in the northern towns, the Heavenly Sword Pavilion would officially clear him of all suspicion, giving him a permanent, unquestioned identity.
The group navigated the staring crowd until they reached the stone outpost of the exchange hub. The mont they hauled the massive beast toward the main entrance, a guard stationed at the door stepped forward, raising a hand to halt them. He cast a sharp, assessing look at the giant boar, then at the exhausted family.
"The beast is too large to pass through the main lobby," the guard announced, his tone crisp and professional. "Take it around to the loading bay in the back."
Ethan and Roy dragged the heavy carcass around the stone periter to the rear courtyard, where a massive iron scale and processing tables were set up. Ethan reached into his tattered tunic, pulled out the crumpled, blood-stained mission patch, and handed it to the ledger officer waiting by the desk.
The officer took the sheet without a word, stamped it with the sect’s official seal, and disappeared into the secure back room. A few minutes later, he returned, sliding a heavy leather pouch across the wooden counter. Inside the pouch, twenty polished, vibrant crystals clinked together. These were dium-grade Spirit Stones. In the economy of cultivators, a single dium-grade stone was worth exactly one hundred low-grade ones, making them far more valuable and infinitely easier to conceal than a massive sack of crude, cracked rocks.
Ethan acknowledged ekly, offering a shallow, submissive bow. "Thank you, officer."
The guard maintained his cold professionalism, giving a slight nod of acknowledgnt as he swept the pouch toward them. "The Heavenly Sword Pavilion always pays its debts in full. If your group brings in more high-quality ga, the registry will be waiting."
As the group turned to exit the courtyard, two younger outer disciples moved toward the carcass, whispering sothing to the guard who had initially processed their arrival. The guard stepped forward, a fluid grace entering his movents as he drew a long, gleaming steel sword from his hip.
With a breathtaking display of precision, his blade transford into a blur of silver light. He danced around the giant boar, his movents resembling a beautifully choreographed performance as he systematically dissected the three-ton monster into perfectly uniform, clean cuts of at within a matter of seconds. Not a single drop of blood splashed onto his pristine white robes.
Roy watched the display with wide, shining eyes, his knuckles whitening against his iron spear. "Wow..." the boy whispered, his voice thick with unadulterated awe. "Soday... I hope I can be just as strong as him. Did you see how beautiful that was, Ethan?"
Ethan looked at the neatly butchered at, then silently shook his head, a faint, hidden trace of pity crossing his mind.
To an amateur or a standard mortal laborer, the technique was indeed a masterpiece—as elegant and flashy as a soaring butterfly. But to Ethan, who carried the deep, combat-tested legacy of the Athyst Ancestor, the performance was completely hollow. It was built for show, lacking any true, lethal cadence. The Ancestor’s path, which had been forged by relentlessly chasing the absolute martial philosophy of the Sword Saint, was entirely direct. The Sword Saint only sought one single thing in her existence: to kill. Her movents were never elegant, they were never flashy, and they never wasted energy on a dance. They were simply, undeniably lethal.
"If you admire the sword so much, Roy, why do you carry a spear?"
Roy’s shoulders dropped slightly, his eyes following the dirt path ahead. "A spear is more practical for hunting smaller ga out here. It keeps the danger at a distance. Besides... I’m not strong enough to wield a proper sword yet. My physical foundation isn’t there."
Ethan didn’t press the matter. He rely offered a small, neutral nod. "Keep training hard. You’ll find your own path eventually."
Before they stepped out of the low wooden fences surrounding the periter of the exchange outpost, Ethan turned to the mother, gesturing toward the heavy pouch in her hands. "Sister Mary, should we divide the stones here?"
Mary looked down at the glittering wealth, her eyes welling with sudden tears as her hands began to tremble. "Thank you, Ethan... Thank you so much for saving us out there. If it wasn’t for your strength, we wouldn’t have made it back alive, let alone with this kind of money."
Seeing her on the verge of tears, a cold, calculating thought sparked inside Ethan’s mind. I can use this woman to blend in even deeper.
A lone, isolated refugee wandering a dangerous frontier town by himself would eventually draw questions from the local authorities. But a desperate, traumatized boy who imdiately seeks the shelter of a local family out of a sheer fear of loneliness? That was a psychological profile the sect’s investigators would accept without a second thought. If he could secure a place to stay with them, he would kill multiple birds with one stone: he would gain a flawless cover, a legitimate residence, and local guides.
The problem was that he was still a complete stranger who had only known them for a few hours. He couldn’t just ask to move in without looking incredibly suspicious. He needed them to make the offer themselves.
-------------------
From this mont forward, to avoid confusion regarding cultivation ranks, I will include this footer with the current established levels.
Note: These are only the ranks ntioned so far to avoid spoilers.
Body Refinent Realm
Skin Refinent / Bone Refinent / Organ Refinent
Spiritual Gathering Realm
Spiritual Perception / Spiritual Mist / Spiritual Condensation
Spiritual Core Realm
Core Solidification / Core Awakening / Spiritual Collapse (Half-step Spiritual Core)
Spiritual Soul Realm
Spiritual Soul Awakening / Soul Nourishing / Soul-Core Fusion
Golden Core Realm
Pri Fusion / Core Perfection / Core Destruction
Spiritual Sea Realm
Stage 1 ?? / Stage 2 ?? / Stage 3 ??
Dao Manifestation Realm
Stage 1 ?? / Stage 2 ?? / Stage 3 ??
Spiritual Transcendence
Stage 1 ?? / Stage 2 ?? / Stage 3 ??
User Comments
0 comments from readers