Jade's gaze never wavered. “You saved my life. Even a dog understands what gratitude is. Tell me what you need, and I’ll do everything I can to help!”

  “Thank you. Let’s start with the most important matter. King said you know a lot of people?”

  “I guess? It’s because of Sword Master Doraleus. He teaches many disciple groups, and I follow him all day,” Jade nodded.

  “Perfect. Ask around if anyone has heard about a powerful, scaled beast being auctioned off. Maybe some of its body parts are being sold, or its blood. I will pay well, and I only need a small amount of blood. I don’t have time to look for it, and it’s imperative I get my hands on some as soon as possible,” he explained, his voice low and serious.

  “How can that help you, though?” Jade frowned. “Wait... Is that why you were so adamant about fighting me for the bloodseeker’s blood?” the princess asked, smiling mischievously as she stepped closer, curiosity twinkling in her eyes.

  “I really wish I could tell you, but I promised my Master I wouldn’t,” Cade gave her an apologetic smile, spreading his arms helplessly. “Oh, right—I nearly forgot. Please stay away from Castien,” he added quickly, eager to change the subject.

  “But… Why? He’s teaching me the Law Severing Art. You know how little time we have to train. I’m saving a lot of time with his help.”

  “I know. I really do,” Cade sighed. The outer disciples had terrible schedules. “But my… hunch reacts badly to his presence. I already felt it back when we met him in the courtyard. There’s something wrong about that man—did you not feel anything weird about him?”

  “Hmm… now that you mention it…” Jade’s brow creased. “He does act a little odd at times. It’s just the faintest flicker of something underneath—and then it’s gone.”

  “There you go then. All I can tell you is that he’s definitely dangerous, and not because he’s good with the blade,” he reaffirmed in a grave tone.

  “Alright. If you say I should watch out for him, then I definitely will,” the princess nodded decisively.

  “Good. You know, when he found out you decided to meet with me, he actually sent an inner court disciple in the late Skeletal Reinforcement to scare me away. Some fellow called Tearsus,” Cade smiled widely, recalling the black-robed man’s panicked expression as Ghost Touch instantly drained his willingness to cause trouble.

  “Tiarsus! That bastard,” Jade's face instantly tensed, her small fists clenching at her sides. Jade was quick to open up to people, perhaps because of how few friends she had growing up. It warmed his heart that she took his words at face value.

  “Tiarsus, Tearsus, who cares. Ignore Castien and give training with the automatons a shot. Let me tell you, those puppets are relentless,” he chuckled, “Dying is definitely possible, but you will learn quickly, and that’s what counts.”

  “I can do that,” Jade nodded with a smile, but her expression quickly shifted to concern. “What are you going to do, Cade? Three months is so little time.”

  “I was originally planning to practice the Law Severing Art—as of now, I was mostly learning the theory, focusing my training on improving my sword skill,” Cade explained. “Since I now have to advance to the inner court as quickly as possible, I’ll just settle for a… less professional win. And I know exactly who to challenge.” A wolfish grin stretched his face.

  In contrast to the outer court, where the dormitories were contained in one of the lowest levels of the citadel and reminded him of his family’s wine cellar, the inner court disciples had a whole upper level for themselves. Each person was provided with their own large house, with a modest, manicured garden and a personal servant who doubled as a cook. No more communal baths, no more standing in line for breakfast—not that he ever did, blood being the ultimate sustenance for his kind.

  It wasn’t surprising every outer disciple dreamed of advancing. Aside from freeing up their time, the sheer difference in living conditions would have been enough. Inner disciples lived like low- to mid-tier nobles, a luxurious lifestyle by Cade’s measure. The ceiling on their level was many times higher, creating the illusion of a huge open space. There were also windows stretching from the floor all the way to the ceiling like enormous, vertical cuts of light—similar to those he had seen on the Saint level.

  It didn’t take him much time to find the lean-faced, stocky inner court disciple who had tried to make trouble. Apparently, he was from the same city as Castien, located in the far east. He was pretty well-known, being fourth on the inner court Low Ladder—not a small achievement considering there were close to 340 ranked disciples. The total number of inner court disciples was exactly 400, but a few dozen had reached the True Core or Muscular Enhancement realms and were therefore ranked on the High Ladder.

  “Bastard, you dare to come here?!” an indignant roar echoed through the level, gathering plenty of attention.

  What was this fellow’s name… Oh, right!

  “Listen, Taurus, I’m short on time. I've checked your duel schedule; it's empty. Are you going to accept the challenge, or would you rather fuck off and leave the monastery?” Cade asked in a lazy voice, unbothered by the commotion. He was surrounded by four black-robed lackeys, who were sizing him up with venomous gazes.

  “My name is Tiarsus, you worthless dreg! Now I really have to show peasant trash like you where you belong, because it’s definitely not fucking here,” Tiarsus chortled, spreading his hands wide like he wanted to embrace the whole inner court. “Don’t think bullshit tricks are going to save you this time. When?”

  “How about now? I’m in a bit of a rush,” Cade shrugged with a wide smile. It wasn’t a pleasant one. He wanted to get this over with; every day of delay meant one less day he could use for cultivation.

  Before coming here, he had a brief discussion with Reeve and King, essentially taking both friends into temporary employment. They needed crystals, and he needed Rank 3 blood, which meant he’d need to trust them with around half a million crystals. It wasn’t something he was excited to do—the sum was enormous. He trusted Reeve and hoped the Hak Fu monk would keep the ex-bandit's opportunistic nature in line. Neither of them wanted to leave Sword Dao, which was probably the best guarantee he could get. Still, half a million crystals would be a harsh test for any person’s moral code, not to mention for coin-starved cultivators. He had therefore promised 50,000 crystals to each of them for getting this done within a few days. It would leave him with around 450,000 to cover the cost of blood for the Asura War Form and pay for his training. It sounded like a lot, but it really wasn't. Cade didn’t understand how someone could be so wealthy and yet feel so poor at the same time.

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  Now, he just had to get this duel arranged.

  “You… I’m not going to drop everything just because you want to get your ass beaten at this very moment,” Tiarsus snorted.

  “Then when? An hour from now? Listen, if you’re scared, then just say so. It’s fine—you can pack up and leave, I’ll challenge someone else. Who wants to fight? I’m not bothered by your rank,” Cade asked impatiently. A pulse of his life sense told him all these people were from the Low Ladder; hence, defeating any of them would open his path forward.

  The disciples glanced meaningfully at each other. Strong verbal exchanges between challengers were normal, expected even, but apparently his behavior was a little suspicious.

  “Shit, you want to end up in the infirmary so badly? Fine, tonight, at the twentieth hour. Bring spare undergarments. Trust me, you’ll need them,” Tiarsus chortled maliciously as he walked away, uninterested in Cade’s reply.

  The Asura grinned inwardly. It was already well past five, so in less than three hours, he would have removed one important obstacle on the road to his survival. Cade had been counting on Tiarsus's posturing, and his agreeing to the fight on short notice instead of risking being accused of cowardice by delaying the duel. Things had gone much smoother than expected. All he had to do now was book one of the arenas and wait.

  All four dueling circles were next to each other, surrounded by a ring of two thousand seats. Those near the arena where his duel was supposed to take place were almost all taken—several hundred people, an uncommonly large number. Naturally, the reason had nothing to do with his popularity, which he had none of. It simply wasn't common for a cultivator at the top of the inner court Ladder to be challenged by a newcomer.

  Most of the people who came to see him belonged to the outer court, but there were a couple of dozen from the inner court and even a few core disciples—though he couldn’t see Aria anywhere. Cade waved at his friends, as Jade, Reeve, and King had adjusted their schedules to cheer him on. The princess gave him a thumbs-up and an encouraging smile, no doubt wanting to inspire his confidence. Brickwall and King talked and laughed like they had come to watch a grand show. Their great moods were likely explained by the sudden influx of crystals filling their pockets. Cade chuckled quietly, witnessing their carefree attitude. All three carried small paper bags, occasionally reaching inside to munch on long pieces of deep-fried, salted potato, their expressions flickering with delight.

  Among the elves in the second row, he saw Aien. He waved at the elf, who sent him a big grin in return. His other friends were a little surprised that they knew each other; elves weren’t that keen on socializing with humans. A few seats away from the elves was Joana, the assistant in charge of all appointments with the Sword Dao elders. He didn’t expect to see her here, as they had little interaction, but appreciated her presence nonetheless. She smiled at him when their gazes met, and he naturally offered her a happy wave as well.

  To his surprise, he saw Arthur and Roland—both looking at him with maliciously satisfied expressions—as well as Amelia and Regina, whom he saw very rarely in general - apparently they'd been busy putting in the work. Jade said her two female cousins were very serious about their training—they even sparred with the puppets several times per week, spending a small fortune in crystals on healing pills. This kind of dedication was definitely worthy of respect.

  “This ugly fellow waves at people like he’s some kind of a Lord,” one of the inner disciples sitting near the front snickered, and all his friends laughed obnoxiously.

  “Please—what Lord? I've heard he’s of peasant stock, with complete mastery over the Soil Upturning Art! Brothers, tonight we’re in for a treat!” someone else said, and the whole group shook with laughter.

  Cade let out a laughing snort, as the joke was actually pretty funny. He wasn’t bothered by any of this—he came here with a single purpose. Popularity contests didn’t interest him. His danger sense hadn’t gone dormant since yesterday, and he could feel its constant pressure—light, yet unyielding. It told him that Darkheart was now fully aware of the new information, and likely waiting for him to come out of the monastery.

  The Asura checked his wristband and saw it was nearly time, yet Tiarsus wasn’t here. Just as the thought flashed through his mind, the man himself appeared in the transportation formation, accompanied by several other disciples, two of whom were tall, lean women. They were all human and all part of the inner court.

  “It’s Tiarsus!” the disciples shouted collectively, and a loud murmur passed through the crowd, alongside many cheers. Cultivators loved to watch duels; after all, fighting was a major part of their life. That being said, many of those gathered here had never been in a life-or-death fight, as noble families avoided unnecessary risks to their heirs. Cade suspected that only a minority here knew what it truly meant to stand opposite someone who wanted to take your life more than anything else in the world.

  Seeing how many people came, the Asura began to wonder whether his original idea to use the disabling pulse and finish Tiarsus quickly was really his best choice. If he didn’t make this fight convincingly one-sided, he’d be bothered every week by someone who thought his win was a fluke. A show of overwhelming force might be for the best.

  A loud, abrasive voice broke his chain of thought. “This dueling sword is called Terminus! It has been in my family for three generations,” Tiarsus shouted, brandishing a silver longsword. “With its help, my grandfather became a core disciple, and so did my father. Soon, I will follow in their footsteps,” he gloated, glancing around to make sure people were listening. Then he stopped waving the weapon, and focused his eyes on Cade.

  “Peasant, I need you to understand how lucky you are for your shit-stick to cross blades with my family’s heirloom. You should remember this day for the rest of your life! In the future, you can tell your grandkids that you once fought Tiarsus Corax of Carpathian Peak, wielder of the famous Terminus dueling blade!” Tiarsus ended the last sentence with a roar and received a near-standing ovation from many of the inner disciples present.

  “Whatever, let’s get on with it. I’ve got things to do and time is coin,” Cade shrugged as he looked around, wondering where the referee was.

  A hateful grimace twisted Tiarsus's face, his eyes bulging with barely restrained fury at being dismissed like a commoner. He was about to retort when someone in the crowd shouted, pointing excitedly at the transportation formation. A lithe, silver silhouette appeared within the circle, floating forward at a measured pace.

  “Sword Master Aleira!” someone in the crowd shouted, and the audience immediately quieted down.

  As one of the oldest and most experienced Sword Masters, Aleira was the referee pretty much everyone here wanted to oversee their duels. Sadly, she rarely adjudicated more than a few matches per week. Her athletic yet feminine figure, covered in rose-gold scales and clad in official silver robes, shimmered like a living diamond under the glow of hundreds of sunstones hanging from the high ceiling. Her long, white hair floated behind her as she glided above the heads of the assembled cultivators. Her sharp eyes took in every detail, her aura controlled so tightly not even the tiniest pulse of spiritual fluctuations touched the crowd below.

  Landing with effortless grace in the center of the arena, her gaze swept over the onlookers before settling on the two combatants.

  “Duelists, enter and present your weapons for inspection.”