King’s quiet words echoed in his head like a gong. Cade’s expression darkened, though he was far from panicking. Darkheart couldn’t even dream of getting inside the monastery—and there was no trace of pressure at the back of his neck. He didn’t like relying on that strange, almost prophetic sense, but its silence was reassuring. The manhunter had likely either turned down Arthur’s request or wasn’t planning to end his life, at least not in the immediate future.

  “Thanks, King. I really appreciate the warning,” he patted the young man on the shoulder. “And please thank Jade for me,” he added.

  “You got it, Boss,” the ex-bandit nodded.

  “Oh, and King… Can you please look out for her? If someone bullies her or… whatever happens, just let me know, alright?”

  “I will do my best!” King said in a serious tone, straightening his posture.

  It was obvious the princess didn’t want to speak to him directly. If she had wanted to, she could have let him know herself. Her sustained distancing left him baffled.

  And Arthur? To be completely fair, he did slap him unconscious in front of a large crowd. It wasn’t exactly surprising the man held a grudge. But asking Darkheart to kill him? That made it clear Arthur wanted him dead. This was no longer a minor issue he could wave off. That idiot princeling had clearly grown tired of living.

  However, if Cade helped him reincarnate, Jade would never speak to him again, and then Darkheart would definitely come after him. Regardless of what happened, he couldn’t afford to be unprepared—it was likely he’d have to face the manhunter sooner or later, and he wanted to do it on his own terms.

  The Asura spent the next couple of evenings watching True Core duels. The combatants seemed to be mostly focused on using the Law Severing Art instead of other battle arts. Apparently, winning this way was considered not only more honorable but also demonstrated one's superiority in law comprehension. They spent most of the time in the air, their silhouettes flashing around the arena as they evaded each other’s anti-law energy arcs, some as tall as three-story houses, only occasionally clashing in a brief, violent exchange of melee blows. Their speed and agility were roughly comparable to his own, as long as he ignited a small amount of blood qi. They also had powerful qi barriers. Darkheart would definitely have serious defenses at his disposal.

  Cade came to the conclusion that by using his Blood Wings, his speed would definitely outmatch these duelists. His base strength was definitely higher than Darkheart’s, as qi cultivators were decently fast, but their bodies weren’t a lot stronger than those still in Foundation Establishment. After watching over ten duels, the Asura grew convinced he would maintain physical superiority in a life-and-death fight with the manhunter. If he could get his hands on the man, he’d definitely have a good chance of ending his path.

  That being said, the main advantage of True Core cultivators was their insane qi reservoir, which allowed them to use large-scale battle arts with devastating effects. Getting up close would be dangerous. Both the crimson mist and his disabling pulse were unlikely to work well due to the realm difference, though maybe if used together… Still, he couldn’t hope to rely on them, which meant the best option for his own defense would be an overwhelming offense.

  Hence, Cade found himself at a crossroads. The best way to prepare for Darkheart was to improve his cultivation and learn the Asura War Form. It was the most potent ability the Book of Life taught in its First Chapter, its first rank greatly multiplying the Asura’s defensive power depending on the blood used. With its help, Cade was convinced he’d gain the upper hand against the manhunter, especially if he could get his hands on potent blood from a scaled creature. His main concern was a lack of information; he didn’t know anything about Darkheart’s techniques or how powerful his battle arts were. On the other hand, focusing on cultivation with the small amount of time he had available wasn’t going to be very productive, and it would do nothing to help him advance to the inner court.

  After another few days and another unproductive group training session with Henok, Cade made up his mind. The time had come for him to put his wealth to use. He had to begin a condensed puppet training regimen at the cost of moderate sleep loss. Taught by his experiences during the trial, he didn’t want to go below four hours of rest per night. After advancing to the inner court, he would have much more time to focus on cultivation. However, Cade couldn’t count on things panning out as he imagined. He had to be ready to face Darkheart before learning the Asura War Form. Improving his sword skill and learning the basics of the Law Severing Art would be a crucial step in tilting the scales in his favor.

  For now, he had to sit through the lecture, its subject: dao containers. Luckily, it was the last one for the day. Sword Master Aleira walked into the lecture hall, the scent of ozone and heated metal clinging faintly to her. Her rose-gold scales glittered under the light of the sunstones. While she was quite beautiful and appeared young—though more on the ageless side—no one here had any doubts about how dangerous she was, especially considering her rank in the middle of the Soul Avatar realm. Interestingly, her hair, while straight, thick and long, was pure white. Apparently, Aleira was the foremost expert in the Law Severing Art at the monastery, and her lectures always filled the halls to capacity.

  “You already know that everything around you is built of laws, which are often categorized as daos,” she began, her voice crisp and clear. “While those two terms have a great deal of crossover, they’re not the same. All laws are represented in the daos, but not all daos are represented with laws, though they might arise from them—we call these 'emergent daos'. For now, let’s just leave it at that. So, what is a dao container?” she asked, stepping off the podium. Her gaze swiped along the cultivators sitting in front of her before suddenly pointing at a random person. “You are one,” she said.

  “I am?” the young man asked, unsure what to do with that fact.

  “And you’re a container too.” Aleira pointed at another disciple. “And you.” The disciples shot each other confused glances. “The chairs you’re sitting on? Dao containers. This hall? A dao container. A speck of dust, the citadel, our planet…” she looked meaningfully at the audience. “You can see where I’m going with this. But these are all simple examples.”

  Aleira returned to the podium. “A dao container possesses its own law, which is a result of a web of interconnected, smaller containers it’s made of—laws in their own right. As we follow this chain to its fundamental level, we will find the most essential rules defining our existence: the Dao of Creation. With sufficient knowledge, practice, and experience, you will be able to learn how to effectively sever a container's function, or even remove it entirely from existence.” For some reason, her gaze wandered to Cade. “You! How would you destroy a dao container?” she crossed her arms, awaiting his answer.

  Fortunately for him, this was a rather straightforward question, as Yin Tian’s memory was at least pretty clear on that matter. “I’d aim for the weakest law, one that would trigger a large chain reaction—I believe it’s called a severance cascade…?” he half-answered, half-asked.

  “Good, that’s the most efficient approach,” she nodded. “But why do we use our swords? Can we not just cut through the laws the same way we use battle arts—with our minds?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Cade frowned. He had spent a long time reviewing the memory to understand the fundamentals behind Yin Tian’s strike. “I believe any object containing severance laws could be used. Laws are incredibly complex to master, and it’s much easier to borrow them from somewhere. By passing spiritual qi through the sword, we can copy its laws, then modify them using our comprehension. If we do everything correctly, this should create an energy-based attack with specific anti-law properties.” He spoke slowly, ensuring he got it right.

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  “In that case, wouldn’t it be simpler to just point the weapon at the enemy instead of wasting time on performing an attack?”

  He already began sweating. What the hell did I do to her? “I think it’s just easier? Performing a stronger attack forces out a greater quantity of severance laws into existence. For someone with full mastery and a lot of qi, they probably wouldn’t need to move a finger, at least not with a smaller-scale severing. However, for us, low-ranked disciples, performing a strong move saves both energy and time,” he elaborated, unsure if this was a tricky question.

  This time, a flicker of surprise passed through Aleira's eyes. Cade realized the specifics of severance laws had not yet been discussed directly during any lectures. Another thought flashed through his mind, though only briefly. Did Yin Tian use Legion on purpose, to demonstrate the full scope of the art for whoever inherited his memory in the future?

  “Very good. For the purpose of the Law Severing Art, the sword is just a crutch. A true master of the art would be able to sever all heavenly laws with a mere thought, leading to the destruction of our universe. Luckily for us, such a feat is not so easy to achieve. Your name?”

  “Cade Ward.”

  “Alright,” was all she said, nodding at him before turning to the audience. “Today we’ll start with one of the most basic and useful dao containers: water.”

  Cade sank back into his chair, fanning himself with his robes. The lecture continued for another two hours, at which point everyone realized that this 'most basic dao container' was actually an exceedingly complex concept, with many usages in combat.

  After the lecture, he rushed towards the puppet training chambers. He paid the elven clerk, who was immersed in an old book when he walked in. Judging from its title, it was a treatise on some old language. Cade’s brows jumped—apparently, the clerk was a scholar at the heart. He had never seen an elf with his features—a fair complexion, bright blonde hair, pale blue eyes and a square jaw—very human-like. Same as probably every elf in existence, he appeared young, and in this case he almost definitely was. Just like Cade, he was also an outer court disciple, one that clearly knew the right people to receive such an easy post.

  “One thing, Brother, since it’s obvious this is your first time here,” the ageless elf suddenly said, his voice a bored monotone. “Those puppets are no joke. You can get badly hurt. People have died inside; that’s not a rare occurrence. Trust me, set it to Qi Condensation first and apply absolutely the lowest skill setting. Just some friendly advice.” Having warned him, the elf returned to his book without looking up.

  “Alright, thank you,” Cade nodded and proceeded inside. Each of the nine puppet training chambers was a replica of the citadel’s arena. Its floor and walls were made of an unknown white material that had some flex to it but also felt very tough. In the center of the chamber stood a solitary puppet, its shape and size similar to those of a typical human male. It was faceless, covered entirely in slick black panels overlapping each other like large scales. He decided to start safe—but Qi Condensation seemed a little low-effort. In the end, he set the puppet's cultivation to early Foundation Establishment and its skill level to the lowest possible. Then, he pulled out Legion and initiated the puppet with its control crystal slip.

  His sixth sense instantly awakened, and he thanked the heavens for that. A black sword appeared in the puppet’s hand before coming down on him like an executioner’s axe. Thankfully, his danger sense rang, giving him prompt warning, and the sword missed him by a hair’s breadth. Cade felt cold sweat trickle down his back as he was forced to twist, turn, and wiggle between blows several times stronger than any early Foundation Establishment cultivator he had ever met could hope to deliver.

  He frantically defended from an incoming onslaught of strikes, using every trick he could muster. His sixth sense pulsed continuously, warning him in advance. Still, his body could only move so quickly, and his skill was far too low. Roughly half of the puppet's attacks passed his defense, and wound after wound began to appear on his body. However, in Cade’s eyes this was the price of progress. He ignored the accumulating damage and focused fully on fighting the puppet.

  Three-quarters of an hour later, Cade finally sent a trickle of qi into the crystal slip, triggering the command to stop the automaton. His gray robes had turned scarlet, and his whole body was riddled with bleeding cuts. The coppery scent permeated the air in the chamber, and its center looked like the back of a butcher’s shop. He let out one ragged breath after another, examining his energy expenditure. He hadn’t used up a lot of blood qi during the fight, as ignition would’ve just made everything easier, and that wasn’t the point. However, he did lose a lot of blood, and that was going to be a problem.

  He checked the timekeeper and realized he still had less than fifteen minutes left. Releasing a resigned sigh, he ignited blood qi to speed up his recovery, then walked out of the chamber. At least he didn’t have to worry about cleaning up after himself; the chamber would apparently take care of that through its exotic formations.

  The elven clerk shot him a compassionate glance. “I told you. These puppet fucks haven’t been designed for beings on our level. A Qi Condensation automaton shouldn’t be able to easily kill a second-tier cultivator. Facing them makes it painfully obvious how badly we have regressed. Whether elf or human, we’re all now shit in comparison.”

  “Yes, that much is clear,” Cade nodded in agreement, deciding not to delve too deep into his own training and its difficulty level. “Thank you for the warning; otherwise, I’d have been in serious trouble. What’s your name, Brother?” Cade asked, extending his hand to grip the elf’s forearm.

  “Aien. Aien Faeven,” the surprised clerk grabbed the offered arm in a tight grip.

  “Cade Ward. Have a good evening, Aien. I’ll be back soon,” Cade said with a smile. “Nice tome, by the way. Looks ancient. A warrior and a scholar, huh?”

  “Just an old dialect I’m trying to make sense of,” Aien chuckled. “You should try it sometime. I heard ladies appreciate a man fluent with his tongue.”

  “I’m sure just flashing the cover of that dusty book will impress them into submission,” Cade chortled, nearly spitting on himself. The pale elf grinned and shot him a conspiratorial wink.

  

  The young Asura returned to the outer disciple dormitory level and sat on the small bed. Like every outer disciple, he had received a tiny, windowless room with just the basic furniture and no space for much else, but to him, it didn’t really matter. Today’s training had truly opened his eyes. He never imagined the puppets were so vicious. The automaton never held back and, whenever possible, it went for the killing blow. It was scary how dedicated it was to erasing him from this world. Nonetheless, those were some well-spent crystals. Towards the end of the session, the puppet was definitely scoring less. It wasn’t a huge difference, but enough to be noticeable. This was progress! Granted, he had left it on the default sword style, which was considered the easiest; otherwise, that session would have most definitely ended badly.

  No wonder so many disciples stayed away from automaton training. Not only was it expensive, but it was also incredibly dangerous. If Cade was a qi cultivator, after this session, he’d have to spend two or three days recovering. Fortunately, by igniting a lot of blood qi, as long as the wounds weren’t very serious, just one hour could bring him back to normal condition. And this was the crux of the problem he was now facing: he didn’t have enough blood essence to continue this style of training. He had enough blood for maybe a dozen similar sessions, if that. Ten was probably a safer estimate.

  Rank 2 blood could be easily purchased in Tower Oasis, but doing so himself would come with a certain risk. What if Darkheart decided to dispose of him? He estimated he had a coin-toss of a chance at winning if he went all out, including igniting all the mist inside his Blood Wings. That just wasn’t enough. Cade recalled Jade’s warning—he was sure the cadaverous manhunter wasn’t someone bothered by an occasional act of murder. If that man saw any benefit to having Arthur owe him, he would likely come after him without batting an eye.

  His dormant sixth sense suggested it was safe to travel, and the distance was short—but what if it triggered ten minutes into the journey? He wasn’t sure how it worked, and he was suspecting there were actually two separate senses working in tandem—the pressure signified a future problem, and the ringing warned him of direct, incoming damage.

  It was those future warnings that truly gave him a headache, and he didn’t feel like they were very reliable—or they were, but worked in a way he didn’t understand.

  The risk of leaving by himself was too great; he needed to ask someone to help him procure more potent blood.

  A lot more blood.

  Hello!

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