“I'm sorry Lucy, but I have to go. I’ll be back shortly, though. In the meantime, please have a look through these; see if anything here suits you,” Cade said, handing her two old books.

  She took one glance at them, and her face lit up with childlike wonder.

  “Take your time to read through everything; there’s no rush,” he smiled, before flashing towards the exit.

  “Hmm… This is definitely Common, though from long before the Exodus,” Aien mused, examining the two pages Cade had copied from the memory crystal. “Probably from around 200,000 years ago.”

  “That old?!” the Asura exclaimed in surprise.

  “Yeah. It’s quite fascinating, actually, how different our current Common is. What you’ve got here is a battle art—some type of projected defensive technique. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. But… it doesn’t seem to be a spiritual qi art, and the laws appear contradictory to those typically used in protective arts. I’m sorry, but I don’t know how anyone could use this, even if they had the missing diagrams,” Aien concluded, baffled by the ancient text.

  Yes! After being stripped of his skin—which he certainly didn’t enjoy—Cade realized he was in desperate need of a defensive blood art that would help to protect his body. It would allow him to fly with his Blood Wings ignited without suffering so much damage. It wasn’t guaranteed that after reversing the diagrams he’d get what he wanted, but it was a strong possibility.

  While he had the prospect of learning War Form in the near future, it wouldn’t be something that he’d be able to use freely in public without being branded a demon and likely hounded by everyone, including the Sword Dao elders. This hate for demonkind was deeply nested within the allied races. If the so-called righteous cultivation path universally despised anything, it was demons and anything that resembled them. Unfortunately, shapeshifting and demonic attributes were considered one and the same. Supposedly, this stark animosity was rooted in the real reason behind the Exodus—a race of humanoid, shapeshifting demons taking over the Moon Continent—but there were so many conflicting reports, it was difficult to differentiate truth from made-up stories.

  “Don’t worry about it. Can you decipher it?” the Asura inquired, his tone tinged with excitement.

  “I’ve already recognized quite a few words, so it should be pretty straightforward with a little bit of research,” Aien stated with confidence.

  “Any chance I can pay for your expertise and time to translate this?” Cade asked, chuckling internally as the young elf’s chest puffed up when addressed as an expert. “I’ll get on with writing down the rest; shouldn’t be more than 150 pages in total,” he clarified, as he had only managed to scribble down a small section of one art.

  “Oh, come on! We’re friends. How could I charge you for a silly thing such as translating a few words?” Aien waved it off.

  “No way! It is exactly because we’re friends that I can’t let you do it without proper compensation, especially since you mentioned you could use extra income last time we spoke.” He saw Aien looking at him skeptically, as if still planning on refusing payment. “I’m serious. How much would an experienced scholar charge for one page of translated manuscript?”

  The elf sighed, then took a moment to consider his question. “Around 80 to 100 crystals is probably the highest rate you’ll see offered anywhere. But seriously…”

  “Perfect, here’s 20,000. I’ll be back with the rest soon,” Cade cut in with a cheeky grin. For most outer disciples, this was a large sum. He unloaded twenty bulging bags from his ring right onto Aien’s desk, nearly burying the elf behind the small mountain of crystals among their discordant chime. He then quickly disappeared before Aien started arguing.

  With this matter taken care of, Cade promptly returned to the house.

  “And? Anything good in these two old tomes?” he asked after closing the door behind him.

  “Senior Cade, this is amazing!” Lucy was so excited her cheeks reddened, and her eyes shone like two polished emeralds. “I… I only have the Stone Fist Art,” she said, a hint of dejection in her voice. “This Elemental Weaving Art is… I don’t even know how to describe it. And the Spirit Steps… Senior, this is too much. Both these arts are worth a fortune. Ten lifetimes might not be enough for me to pay you back.” The shine in her eyes turned into a tearful gleam, and her expression sank. She wanted to hand the books back to him, but Cade gestured for her to stop, placing a bag of crystals on the table.

  “Since those arts are mine, I can use their pages as… well, anything. Essentially, I can do with them as I please. So I’m handing them to you. Please take these crystals to the Master Scribe, and tell him that…” Cade didn’t finish, as he heard a voice in his head.

  “Is my in-name disciple planning to let me inside his house anytime soon?”

  Cade jumped in surprise, then immediately swiped everything off the table into his ring, leaving only the azure kettle and their two teacups. He forgot that Erendriel could conceal his life signature. Since Grandmaster decided to come here in person… this might not be good news. Elders rarely visited their juniors for no reason. His jaw tensed. It must have something to do with Jade.

  “Lucy, would you please boil the water and prepare another cup? We have an esteemed visitor. I’ll let him in myself,” he said, heading towards the gate.

  Grandmaster Erendriel stood outside, wearing an ordinary blue tunic and leather trousers. His expression wasn’t exactly cheerful.

  “Apologies, Grandmaster, I wasn’t aware of your presence,” Cade cupped his fist, bowing his head. “Please come in,” he stepped aside, gesturing inward.

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  “Thank you,” the elf said, stepping past the gate and glancing around the garden, as if it was the first time he was seeing the inner court quarters.

  Cade blurred towards the door. “Please, Grandmaster,” he said, ushering the Saint inside the house.

  “Yes, yes. Don’t act so formal. I’m not here in any official capacity," Erendriel said, lightly patting his disciple’s shoulder before walking inside the house.

  Lucy was so nervous, her whole body trembled. She naturally heard everything and realized who this was. Even before the Saint walked in, she was already in a deep bow, her cupped fist extended forward.

  Erendriel stopped in front of her, his eyes flickering with curiosity. “Oh, you have a servant on the cusp of breaking into the seventh stage of Qi Saturation?” He straightened her with a casual touch. “Your talent is not bad. Don’t be nervous, I’m not going to eat you,” he told her, smiling encouragingly. It really didn’t help much, and Lucy now stood still as a monument, blushing furiously. The Grandmaster turned to Cade. “I have a feeling she’ll find herself in the Skeletal Reinforcement realm pretty soon. Do you want her to be ready for the next disciple trial?” he asked.

  “She has the aptitude and works hard, but her position doesn’t give her enough time to cultivate. I intended to give her a little help,” Cade nodded, noting that Lucy’s body started shaking once again, and two glimmering tears dropped from her eyes, trickling down her reddened cheeks. She suddenly threw herself on the floor in front of him, attempting a kowtow, but the Asura was quicker. “Please, we already spoke about this. No kowtowing,” he said in a soft voice, helping her stand up.

  Lucy was in such a state of shock, she didn’t know what to say or what to do, her eyes lowered. “Would you steep the leaves for us, please?” he asked, giving the girl something to focus on.

  “Yes, Senior,” she immediately answered, bowing and almost running to hide in the kitchen.

  Erendriel chuckled, but his expression quickly hardened. He sat at the table in the head position, reserved for important guests.

  “I’m afraid the news isn't good,” he said, looking his disciple straight in the eyes.

  Cade’s face dropped, and he felt his knees weakening. Disregarding etiquette, he plopped down onto the nearest chair. “How… How bad is it?” he asked hesitantly.

  “Her soul is fine, but it’s my belief that she’s been affected by a mind devouring art, as her soul and consciousness appear out of sync. It’s one of several Death Dao techniques used by their disciples to erase unwanted memories. This one was rather crude and invasive, but very effective. Because the technique was not retracted properly, it flared in Jade’s mind before dispersing. She might eventually wake up once her brain heals, but she’ll definitely suffer from a memory gap. It might also affect her mental state. I don't know when she'll awaken,” Erendriel said, releasing a dispirited sigh.

  At that moment, Lucy came into the room, placing a cup in front of the Grandmaster, who offered her a smile in return. Blushing once again, she promptly retreated into the corner of the room.

  “Thank you, Lucy. I’ll be alright for the rest of the day. Come see me tomorrow; I’ll explain what I want you to do with those books,” Cade turned to her. Lucy bowed and cupped her fist, expressing gratitude with her whole self, before quietly departing.

  “Can I do anything to help?” Cade asked in a dispirited voice. “It’s my fault she’s in this state. I didn’t consider what complications interrupting the ritual might cause.”

  “It’s not your fault; it was the best thing you could have done under the circumstances. Most of the damage was done by the time Castien’s concentration was broken; it was simply unavoidable. Now everything is in the hands of fate.”

  Cade sagged in his chair.

  “Listen to me: there isn’t anything else you could have done better. Were you supposed to let him continue draining her qi?” Erendriel repeated, not willing to see his disciple unreasonably blame himself. He took a sip from his teacup, his brows jumping in surprise.

  The Asura didn’t have it in him to smile upon noticing the elf’s reaction. Despite the sensibility of Erendriel’s arguments, Cade still felt he was the one who let Jade down.

  I took half a million crystals from Var Du Long. I promised to look after her, and I messed up. He gritted his teeth. He took his promises very seriously. An issue like this could potentially affect his Dao Heart, further deviating his cultivation. All that time, he was prioritizing his matters, not focusing enough on what was going on with Jade. Or King, or Reeve for that matter. His training, his cultivation—everything he did was for himself, and now matters had progressed to this stage.

  Erendriel sighed once again. For someone as old and experienced as him, it wasn’t hard to reason out what his disciple was thinking.

  “Look. As cultivators, we have to think about ourselves. We have to be pragmatic and egocentric to a large degree, otherwise we’ll never achieve the peak of cultivation. You can’t focus on following your dao when all you do is run around taking care of the affairs of others,” the grandmaster stated with brutal sincerity.

  “I… I understand, Grandmaster. I know I can’t help prevent every single bad thing from happening to my friends. But… I just feel I could have done more,” Cade let out a heavy sigh.

  “Good. It means you’re not a monster. I’m not telling you to disregard the needs of those close to you, but you have to realize the best way to help them is for you to gain power. Do anything and everything you can to get stronger,” the elf said, before his expression tensed. “Death Dao hurt your friend, so next time you will hurt them. Anytime someone earns your hatred, carve it into your heart. Return every grievance tenfold, no—a hundredfold! If a year isn’t enough, take ten years. If ten years aren’t enough, take a hundred years! Even if you have to walk through hell, see every blood debt repaid in full!” Erendriel’s presence filled the room with a sense of tremendous might, his voice rising like a wave of tempered steel.

  Cade immediately thought of Griswold, feeling his soul resonate with Grandmaster’s words, and his rage slowly surfaced, forced into submission by a steeled mind. His hands clenched into fists, bones creaking in a quiet declaration of vengeance. Breathing deeply, he slowly calmed himself down, gradually loosening his tense muscles.

  “Very good. You’re not letting the anger control you. Rage can be a useful tool, but that’s all it is—a tool. You can turn it into a weapon. Remember: revenge tastes best when it’s unexpected and utterly ruinous,” the grandmaster nodded with appreciation.

  Cade stood up and bowed deeply to the Saint. “Thank you, Grandmaster. I will etch these words into my soul.”

  Erendriel waved dismissively, standing up. “Just some blabbering of an old man approaching the end of his path. Focus on cultivating. Once you’re ready, come find me; we’ll discuss the opening of the Life and Death Realm in more detail,” the elf reminded him, walking out through the door. “No need to see me out,” he threw over his shoulder, smiling lightly, before his body shimmered. An eyeblink later, he was gone.

  The Asura stood alone next to the table, surrounded by silence.

  Once again I am reminded that strength means everything in this world. Nobody listens to what the weak have to say. The powerful do whatever they want, stepping on others without any consideration, just like Griswold and Marius stepped on my poor mother. It’s about time someone started stepping on them.

  The two Brighthearts were always on his mind. Neither of them would have a good death. With determination burning in his heart, Cade raised his eyes towards the ceiling, where the cultivation chamber was. Walking up the stairs, he traced the red band with his thumb, bringing his coffin into view.

  He had no idea that many thousands of miles away, there was more trouble brewing.