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Now reading: Chapter 427. Taste of Northern Spring from The Rich Cultivator, a Fantasy novel by LazyMeow.

Mathilda leaned against the bed, her sharp eyes glinting with mischief as she studied the unconscious Astrid, sprawled across the velvet-draped bed. "Yeah... I don’t think she’ll wake up anyti soon. The maids’ gossip must’ve woke her up once. Hmm..." She tapped her chin, a sly grin spreading. "Maybe we should try that again next ti."

Before anyone could respond, Mathilda’s voice shifted to a sultry moan, loud enough to echo through the chamber. "Aaahn~ Tyler... don’t touch there~"

Her tone was shalessly provocative, and the nearby maids froze, their faces flushing a vivid crimson. One clutched her apron, eyes wide, while another fanned herself furiously.

Tyler’s eyebrows twitched.

"Hmmm... no reaction—Ouch!" Mathilda yelped as he delivered a light smack to the back of her head, his expression a mix of exasperation and amusent.

"Cut it out," Tyler sighed, rubbing his temple. "If Astrid wakes up again, you let us know imdiately. Got it?" His voice carried the weight of command, though his gaze softened as he glanced at the maids.

The maids nodded vigorously, still flustered from Mathilda’s theatrics. "Y-Yes, sir!" one stamred, her cheeks still pink.

"Good. We’ll leave it to you," Tyler said, motioning for the group to follow him out of the room.

Mana, Mathilda, Lily, and Darla trailed behind, they left the pocket dinsion and arrived at the ship. Their footsteps echoing softly on the polished floor of the ship’s corridor.

The air outside was little cooler.

As they walked toward the one of ship’s hall, Tyler’s thoughts churned. The third challenge lood ahead, he has no idea what will the Phantom Pirates will choose.

He glanced at Lily, who was humming a tune, her carefree deanor a stark contrast to the tension coiling in his chest. "Oh, by the way," he said, his tone casual but his eyes sharp, "that girl who ambushed you at Veins Peak? Her na’s Masha. She’s Mash’s sister, from the Justice Bandits."

Lily stopped mid-step, her brows shooting up. "Oh... *that* Mash? The one who tried to assassinate the Young Master of the Crimson Blood Sect?" She smirked, piecing it together. "The one you killed afterward?"

Tyler nodded, his expression unreadable. "Yeah. That Mash."

Lily let out a low, throaty laugh, shaking her head. "Hahaha! So Masha’s got her sights on you, huh? But she wants to kill your *other* identity?" Her grin turned wicked, eyes dancing with amusent. "That’s hilarious. She doesn’t even know you’re the one who took out her brother."

Tyler rolled his eyes, though a faint smirk tugged at his lips. "From what I can tell, she doesn’t care much about her brother. Still, I’ll dig into her motives. Need to cover my ass, you know."

"Oh, co on," Lily teased, poking his side playfully. "Don’t break a maiden’s heart, Tyler." She batted her lashes mockingly. "Besides, you’re kinda cute when you’re worried."

Tyler shot her a flat stare, but the corner of his mouth betrayed him, curving upward. "Focus, Lily. The third challenge isn’t going to be easy for sure."

"Yes, yes, boss," Lily purred, her voice dripping with mock obedience. She sauntered off with a playful sway of her hips, leaving Tyler to shake his head and follow, his mind already shifting to the trials ahead.

┉┈ ◈ ◉ ◈ ┈┉

Tyler stepped into the bustling kitchen of the ship, the air thick with the scent of herbs and spices. Taka, the octopus-man and one of the ship’s leading chefs alongside Darla, stood at a counter, his multiple arms deftly sorting through a pile of Northern Spring Tea leaves. The rare leaves, which Tyler had secured at a steep price from the auction house, shimred faintly under the kitchen’s enchanted lanterns.

"Is the tea ready?" Tyler asked, leaning casually against a counter.

Taka’s bulbous eyes widened, his stutter betraying his excitent. "B-Boss White! T-This is incredible! Northern Spring Tea—multiple packets of it! H-How did you manage to get so many?"

Tyler smirked, brushing off the question. "That’s a trade secret. Tell , can we use Preservation Arrays to keep these fresh?"

Taka turned to a stove where a pot of special spring water, sourced from the misty mountain plains of the Ixalaria Continent, was beginning to simr. His tentacles moved with practiced precision, adjusting the fla. "It’s p-possible, Boss White, but there’s a catch. Even with arrays, the flavor shifts over ti. These leaves are priciest—and best—when consud fresh."

He dropped a pinch of the shimring leaves into the boiling kettle. Almost instantly, a delicate aroma unfurled, curling through the kitchen like a gentle breeze. The scent was soothing, a blend of floral sweetness and earthy depth that seed to ease the tension in Tyler’s shoulders. Even the assistant chefs, chopping and stirring nearby, paused to inhale deeply, their faces softening.

Soon, the tea was ready. The kitchen grew lively as the crew gathered, drawn by the irresistible fragrance.

Lily, Mathilda, and Darla pushed through the swinging doors, their eyes bright with anticipation. A teacup floated into the air, suspended by an unseen force. Mana, then materialized in a faint shimr of light and sipped delicately, her ethereal form glowing brighter with each taste.

Lily grabbed a cup, her fingers brushing Mathilda’s as they both reached for the steaming pot. Darla, ever the professional, inspected her cup with a chef’s critical eye before taking a sip.

Tyler lifted his own cup, the warmth seeping into his palms. The first sip was a revelation—smooth, vibrant, and layered with flavors that danced across his tongue. Unlike other teas, this one stirred sothing deeper. His Spiritual Consciousness pulsed, refreshed, as if a fog had lifted from his mind. His Divine Sense sharpened, the world around him coming into crisper focus.

The crew exchanged glances, their expressions mirroring Tyler’s awe. Though their Aura and Prana didn’t surge, a subtle cleansing coursed through them, as if the tea had swept away impurities. Their Cultivation paths felt smoother, unburdened, as if the tea had unlocked a hidden potential within them.

Tyler set his cup down, grinning. "This was worth every Lydia."

Taka bead, his stutter forgotten. "T-Told you, Boss. Nothing beats fresh Northern Spring."

┉┈ ◈ ◉ ◈ ┈┉

In the dim glow of a flickering lantern, the ’Real’ Phantom Pirates gathered again in the Pagoda. Across from them sat Gunn Calway in his Array as usual.

"You want my treasure?" Gunn Calway raised a bushy brow, his voice deep as always.

Kael Driftsbane, captain of the ’Real’ Phantom Pirates, leaned forward, his black coat rustling softly. A faint smirk played on his lips, but his eyes burned with purpose. "Not give, Mr. Gunn Calway. Lend us the Feather of Dreamwalker. You don’t owe us anything. Simple as that."

The air grew heavy, Gunn Calway’s fingers stilled on his goblet, his expression shifting to one of deep contemplation. He leaned back, stroking his beard. "Alright, Driftsbane. I’ll lend it to you. But you know the stakes, don’t you? The Dreamwalker’s power isn’t a trinket to toss around. Challenge soone with it, and the loser’s ntal strength drains to the winner. It could take centuries to recover. You don’t have a personal grudge with that other pirate crew, do you?"

Kael’s smirk widened, but his voice carried a cold edge. "Soone paid us to lure them into the open. A job’s a job. But it’s not just about the money —it’s pride." His fingers tapped the hilt of the curved blade at his side, the motion betraying a restless energy. "The so-called ’Fake’ Phantom Pirates think they can parade around with our na. That doesn’t sit well."

Gunn Calway snorted, a mocking glint in his eye. "Pride? From pirates?" His tone dripped with sarcasm, but he streched his hand, pulling out a small, unassuming object. It was a feather, dyed a deep, earthy brown, its edges frayed as if plucked from so ancient creature. To the untrained eye, it looked like nothing more than a bird’s feather, ordinary and dull. But the air around it seed to hum faintly, a whisper of power that made the hairs on Kael’s neck prickle.

"This," Gunn said, holding the feather aloft, "is the Feather of the Dreamwalker. From an owl-like beast that can’t fly but walks in the Realm of Dream. You know how to use it, right?"

Kael nodded, his eyes gleaming with avarice. He could already envision it: the ’Fake’ Phantom Pirates’ ship that is called Shadow Pearl, their Phantom masks which looks like High Level Artifacts. Everything is worth Gambling.

The Feather of the Dreamwalker drifted from Gunn Calway’s hand, its faint glow casting eerie patterns on the floor "Don’t underestimate them, Driftsbane," he warned, his voice a low growl. "Even I can’t sense their power."

Kael Driftsbane’s fingers closed around the feather, its warmth pulsing against his skin. His smirk was sharp, eyes gleaming with nace. "Don’t worry, Mr. Calway," he said smoothly, voice laced with dark intent. "I know exactly what I’m doing."

The air humd with the feather’s unknown energy, as if promising chaos as Kael Driftsbane stored it. He then left with his Crewmates.

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