On one of the lower mountains of Verdant Spire Sect, beneath a canopy formed by ancient trees extending in an arc, sat a figure. Moonlight danced across his face in rhythmic patterns. Beside him lay a sword, resting neatly on a luxurious cloth that was clearly made of the most expensive material. Yet this wasn't the most striking feature—it was the sword's hilt, positioned away from its scabbard. There was no blade, just a hollow emptiness.

  Zeryn opened his eyes, his hand hovering above his sword's scabbard. His lips moved, but no sound escaped.

  Before him, slightly to his right, a human shadow appeared.

  "You demand my presence?" The voice seemed to blend with the wind, existing yet not existing.

  "Ah, my protector," Zeryn mocked. "A coward."

  "Pardon me, young master?"

  "I didn't stutter. You heard me clearly, and my meaning was exactly that, lowly servant!"

  The shadow rippled like a wave at the insult.

  "I ordered you to intervene at Maelivar's square," Zeryn said coldly. "Yet you defied my command?"

  The shadow stopped rippling, replying calmly.

  "My duty has always been and only ever will be to protect you, not others. You truly risked your life by daring to stand beside that brat."

  "Oh?" Zeryn raised an eyebrow. "So you're reprimanding me? Because you're older? More experienced? Stronger?"

  "I meant no such thing, young master," the voice softened.

  "Insult my friend one more time, and your life will be forfeit. Don't think I lack the means to accomplish that."

  Silence returned to the night. Wind whistled alongside the rustling sound of branches rubbing against each other.

  "You're truly stubborn," Zeryn smirked. "I deliberately threw myself into the encirclement, yet you didn't move. Could this count as a strike?"

  "Because you were never truly threatened. Even so..."

  "You were too late," Zeryn snapped. "Or did you think you could stop a Tier 7?"

  "I have confidence in my abilities," the shadow asserted.

  "Ah, so you rate yourself even higher than Darkan? You're strong enough that even the Silent Juggernaut would suffer, while you wouldn't?"

  In response to his sharpness, the shadow's form became unstable.

  "You're old, you've lived longer than me," Zeryn's hand seemed to caress something pitiful in the air. "True that! But you also hold the prejudices of your generation, the contempt for those who come after. Arrogance. That's what it is. Did I ask you to fight anyone? I needed you there to send a message. Just as Darkan did, nothing more, nothing less."

  "The Valtaris House cannot be used like that. Our family honor doesn't allow you to bring trouble over such a trivial matter. You and I would both face reprimand. You understand that..."

  "Silence!" Zeryn neither raised nor lowered his voice. He simply issued a command. And it was obeyed. The dignity of one born to rule manifested clearly.

  The shadow stiffened, its outline becoming even more distinct. It seemed to realize it had gone too far.

  "You invoke the Valtaris name to teach me how to handle this? Since when does a servant have the right to lecture me at length? A mere Tier 6 dares to teach me? Haha. You must truly look down on me."

  Even now, Zeryn didn't bother to call the shadow by name, using only contemptuous terms. This displeased the shadow, but it dared not object further. The young man was already the most agreeable person among those bearing the 'Valtaris' name.

  A flash of pain appeared as Zeryn touched the hollow sword hilt on the ground. After a moment, he spoke.

  "Tell me, how many people have reached the third level of Sword Intent at the age of 22? Among the younger generation or even within the Valtaris House?"

  "None, young master," the shadow answered.

  "Ah," Zeryn dragged out the word. "So you know where my capabilities stand, don't you?"

  "I do."

  "And yet you don't bother to obey me? You don't fear me like the other protectors?"

  "It's not like that, young master."

  "Don't make me laugh. You judge that my level of Sword Intent will be of no help."

  In the air rang a soft laugh filled with the bitterness of Caelindor's most renowned sword prodigy.

  "That's partly true," Zeryn continued. "And it's also true that the future is shaped by people like me. Do you agree?"

  "Indeed."

  "Then perhaps you should kill me?" Zeryn asked as if it were of no concern.

  The shadow trembled.

  "So you don't dare, do you?" Zeryn mocked. "Kill me and die, or don't kill me and die. That's how pathetic you are. Remember that well."

  After a moment, the shadow finally spoke.

  "I will remember."

  "Your voice sounds too indignant," Zeryn chuckled. "Had I died last week, you wouldn't have remained intact either. Your soul would have been refined into a slave even more wretched than you are now for the Valtaris House. Yet you truly dared to risk defying my order."

  A cold breath emanated from behind Zeryn. He paid it no mind, his hand trembling on the sword hilt.

  "Don't give yourself more sword points aimed at you. If you can't change your present, you won't be able to meddle with your future. And your past is even further beyond reach. Next time, when I give an order, even if it means death, you must carry it out. There are way, way more worse things than death."

  Faced with this threat, the Tier 6 shadow knelt. This action made its head disappear.

  "I humbly obey the young master's command."

  "Go," Zeryn waved his hand.

  The shadow vanished, leaving Zeryn alone with his thoughts. He stopped fidgeting with the sword that was no longer a sword.

  "One day," he muttered before closing his eyes to cultivate.

  Footsteps passing back and forth, the rustle of robes dragging on the ground, voices arguing—all of this had utterly exhausted Alaric Tethras.

  News of the incident at Maelivar had spread in the blink of an eye with PsiLink's existence. Darkan's actions had been transmitted for all to see. This dispute left everyone in Verdant Spire Sect restless.

  Contrary to Alaric's expectations, censure against one young disciple rather than condemnation of higher organizations dominated the discussions. The sect's disciple had done nothing wrong; clearly, their elder had stood up to protect their younger generation, yet curses fell upon Darkan's head. He was surrounded by proposals to expel Nathan so the sect could continue to develop.

  The way this world operated weighed heavily on Alaric.

  He had spoken with Darkan on the night Nathan was brought back. He had seen the burden his friend carried. And his promise when founding Verdant Spire Sect still echoed across the river of time, haunting him, pressing him down.

  Darkan had been right. An organization for and by its members could not exist.

  "You're all too noisy!" Alaric snapped.

  The eight supreme elders of the sect halted their actions, looking bewildered at their leader whom they had always admired. Gone was his harmony, his concern, his fairness. With just a word, only weariness, irritation, and contempt remained.

  All returned to their seats.

  The others looked toward Nalani, who had proposed this meeting.

  The elder who had led the team to Maelivar seemed to shrink, taking a deep breath, trying to suppress the pain from Darkan's blow. She opened her mouth.

  "Alaric, keeping Darkan is acceptable. But not Nathan. We need to show other organizations our sincerity."

  "Nonsense," Alaric barked. "What did the young man do? His blood has already proven to be of no use."

  "Even so," Nalani wouldn't back down. "We still must do something. He harbored such a potential danger. No one can say what the future may bring."

  "That's right, Alaric," Esme, a female elder with a stern appearance, said. "If you can't bear it, you can secretly support him. But outwardly, we should let him go."

  "You, too?" Alaric looked up, staring at Esme.

  Esme's lips formed a flat line under the disappointed gaze of the man before her. She suddenly didn't know what to think or say anymore.

  Elders like Jorran, Lian, and Galen remained silent. They faced enough pressure from other sects to seek a solution.

  Alaric looked around, feeling a bitter taste in his mouth.

  "Expelling a disciple to solve this problem? You truly think so. While conversely, without that incident, he would have brought honor and glory to our sect?"

  "We have other disciples to do that," Nalani said immediately.

  "Keira Valaine?" Alaric laughed. "The one who chose to leave the sect to follow The Wandering School, to study under another elder with the Illusion Aspect? Is that glory or the disgrace of Verdant Spire's inadequacy? That we can't even retain our own talents?"

  "Even so..." Nalani wouldn't give up.

  "And how would that benefit the sect's future?" Alaric interrupted. "What would the other disciples say?"

  "Most of them currently agree," Elder Galen spoke up as the one responsible for disciples' welfare.

  "Don't use that as an argument," Alaric fumed. He had truly been too gentle with everyone. His mild policies seemed to be backfiring right in this room, and he was the first victim.

  There was one consolation deep in his heart. At least it happened to the proponent before falling on anyone else.

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  "Are you all too idle that you've lost your sharpness?" Alaric couldn't hold back anymore. "Or have I indulged you too much, letting you oppress others? Future! Future! What will the disciples say about Verdant Spire Sect's future? What genius would dare join when the sect shows that as soon as it's convenient, they'll be discarded immediately? You're all hundreds of years old, knowing well how important backing is. Yet now, you risk the future over mere temporary disadvantages."

  "One disciple can't do anything..." Nalani's voice became a mumble.

  "One is enough," Alaric nearly roared. "Just one rising above all limits. That's enough. And are you capable of facing someone with nothing to lose when he returns? He might not kill you, but making you live worse than death for his amusement would suffice."

  Alaric's words made everyone swallow hard. Such a scenario was entirely possible. This was why assassinations of young, key disciples of organizations continued to occur.

  Every action was for an unclear future vision. But that ambiguity wasn't enough to stop anyone from making their choices. Just as the elders worried about future retaliation from other organizations, or disciples feared discrimination from other sects' younger generation, they made decisions about Nathan. In that process, they had forgotten the possibility of a more distant future.

  Normally, they would brush it off. But that boy had Darkan, who had pressured a Tier 7 and a major city to comply.

  "You must have met before coming to me," Alaric smirked, looking around, seeing everyone stiffen. "Otherwise, the proposal would have been to expel Darkan, wouldn't it? But he helped found the sect and is so powerful. So you targeted the weak instead."

  Everyone bowed their heads at the scolding. It had been years since they had seen Alaric so enraged.

  "Alaric..." Esme spoke up, trying to calm the situation.

  "Don't interrupt me once again." Alaric raised his hand to stop her. "I'm the Sect Leader. You will talk when I let you."

  Not just Esme, but all the other elders felt a chill. They were receiving the treatment they gave to sect disciples. The treatment reserved for the weaker.

  Nalani clenched her fist, her eye corners trembling.

  "Frustrated, aren't you?" Alaric smirked, waving his hand forward. "You understand now? This will be the grudge of any disciple expelled without just cause. Nathan was once a poor seed, but we fulfilled our responsibility as a sect, giving him resources that couldn't improve him. Letting him go was the right thing then. But now, he has done well, proven his ability. And when he needs protection most, you throw him to the tigers? Now use the resentment I've given you to think. What would you do if I, regardless of your contributions, neither protected nor helped you, but let you walk into the enemy's arms? Don't forget how you came to sit here."

  The elders stirred. They wanted to speak, even to apologize. But they were too proud to act.

  "To some extent, you owe me," Alaric pointed at himself. "And Darkan!"

  These words struck like thunder to the others. They were vaguely confused.

  "Why do you respect me but not Darkan?" Alaric was bemused. "Do you think without that mediocre elder of the ninth mountain, Verdant Spire Sect would exist? That you would have the right to sit here and opine about his precious disciple?"

  "We never knew this?" one elder spoke up.

  "Because Darkan isn't petty, doesn't care for power," Alaric declared vehemently. "And because that would violate the sect's goal—governance through power and fear rather than fairness and benevolence. Sadly, those I trusted are the very ones who go against the original purpose."

  In the light of the palace's main hall, all faces turned pale.

  "If you can't accept it, at least repay your debt." Alaric slumped, resting his head on his hand to hide his disappointed gaze. "Darkan and I have brought Verdant Spire Sect this far. Do this one thing."

  "You don't need to act as if we would abandon you over this," Esme spoke up.

  "But I've felt that you're already gone," Alaric said bitterly. Time changed everything. He no longer saw the people he once knew beneath these faces.

  The hardest thing to keep is one's true heart, Darkan's words echoed in his mind.

  That careless bastard was the most understanding after all.

  "My decision is made," Alaric stood up, allowing no one else to speak. "Nathan will remain in the sect. Anyone who disagrees is free to leave if they wish. I can debate other matters with you. But some things are non-negotiable. You know my limits, the sect's core values. Yet you dare come here on this issue. I had a moment of hope that you would propose how to make other sects wary of bullying Verdant Spire Sect members. To retaliate until everything settles down. I expected too much from you just because I thought Darkan would surely do that. Probably Orin too."

  Esme reached forward, her mouth moving as if trying to say something but couldn't speak. They had been blinded by their power, the luxury of a human lifetime, the peace exchanged for by others. Then, in their blindness, they made a mistake, causing someone to change their view of everything. Until now, there had never been a Tier 7-level threat involving the empire for them to act so shortsightedly.

  Alaric was a good man, and they forced him to be something else.

  "Nalani," Alaric's voice deepened, heavy with authority. "Sentence yourself into Seclusion Chamber for a month."

  Hearing this, Nalani stood up, about to protest when Esme came over to grasp her hand. Sighing deeply, Nalani bowed her head, performing the ritual.

  "I obey the Sect Leader's command."

  Alaric said nothing, his figure disappearing.

  It seemed no one would allow the Sect Leader rest tonight. Verdant Spire Sect's protective dome had just been breached.

  A presence, a man in white, entered as if this were a park for leisurely strolls.

  Nathan was startled awake by a deep call to his spirit. Exhausted after pushing himself for so long, lately, apart from sleeping, he only ate and dwelled on the bitterness of his mana aspect.

  The team had only just returned from Maelivar yesterday. Zeryn had sought him out, but he was already asleep, so they hadn't met yet. He grew even more dispirited when reading and watching information about The Shifting Trials' closing ceremony on PsiLink.

  A feast had been laid out for the young people. The earlier devastating incident was set aside, leading to a gathering of all citizens. They raised glasses to toast this generation's youth.

  Individuals like Adrian, Zhanyu, and Keira were solemnly invited up by the city's leadership, bestowed with gifts ranging from pharmaceuticals to items to relics amid cheers from below.

  Performances were added to make the evening more joyful. People sang and danced, embellishing the dazzling evening, as if trying to cover up all the troubles and stirring beneath.

  Duke Kael Voss gave all forces face by maintaining his presence throughout the evening. He even condescended to exchange a few words with the high-ranking talents.

  Speaking of rankings, Nathan couldn't help but feel bitter. After being determined to possess the Null Resonance Aspect, his ranking had been mercilessly adjusted. Because the ranking also included support professions, in the comprehensive top 64 list, he was pushed down below these individuals.

  Originally, he should have been around rank 20 to 30, but ultimately landed at rank 57, far below his teammates. The next lowest was Zahra at rank 35, mainly because she was still at Tier 2 Phase 1, while Evelyn, at rank 16, was already at Phase 8. Zeryn had been specially placed in the top 3 most promising young people. For he was the only one to overcome the Sword Intent challenge arranged inside the pocket dimension. His boldness led to success beyond expectations.

  However, this assessment also implied that Zeryn's teammates were those who held him back. But the sword genius in an interview had said he couldn't have won without Nathan. Nevertheless, one person's words couldn't overcome the majority. Especially when the person mentioned was being looked down upon for having the Null Resonance Aspect. Add to that his lack of special bloodline, having used up his Dragon Blood, he was just an ordinary cultivator.

  No one disputed that Nathan was currently one of the strongest. But with an Aspect considered the worst, no one placed their faith in him anymore.

  Nathan didn't pay much attention to this issue. The contradiction between his system's naming and this world's assessment amused him more than anything.

  The system must be a higher-level creation that could intervene in all types of laws, giving him [Titan's Descendant], a skill that stirred up enough attention to attract a Tier 8, The Emperor. It would be more trustworthy than people eager to profit from him.

  The ceremony also included high-tier cultivators extending olive branches to individuals. Some wandering cultivators found their place. Most notably among them was Keira, who found a cultivator with the Illusion Aspect to study under. Verdant Spire Sect thus lost one of their talents. This wasn't uncommon among organizations, so no one could say anything. At least Verdant Spire Sect would have a diplomatic relationship in the future.

  The event officially closed a few days later when the cultivators had rested sufficiently and exchanges had concluded successfully.

  Unable to fall back asleep, Nathan went outside. What he saw made all drowsiness vanish.

  He saw the earth and stones in his living area upturned. Planted trees tilted, uprooted from the ground, roots pointing straight up at the sky. The sky was clear without clouds. Above floated a person dressed in white.

  Nathan shuddered as Darkan rushed forward, throwing a punch toward the opponent.

  The white-robed figure gracefully dodged. The punch seemed compressed by dozens of bombs, sending wave after wave toward the sky, followed by muffled explosions from the mana spread around.

  Nathan swallowed hard, unable to imagine the destruction that attack could have caused.

  Darkan had restrained himself at Maelivar.

  Not finished, from his punch, Darkan pointed a finger to the left, where the white-robed person stood.

  More ripples occurred, compressed force exploding.

  The white-robed person was shattered. But it was just an illusion.

  When he appeared again, his awkward face smiling, hands clapping with loud pops.

  "Tier 7 Physical Cultivation? No, perhaps more. But you can't reveal it. Injured? Under restrictions? Or are you like me? Degradation?"

  "Shut up and get out," Darkan sneered.

  "Now, now, calm down. I have someone to meet today."

  Darkan turned his head following the other's gaze. When he saw Nathan, he scowled.

  "Get back to your room now!"

  Nathan found himself able to speak.

  "I cannot move!"

  He had wanted to flee this place from the start.

  "You..." Darkan growled at the white-robed person.

  "You see? If I wanted to, I would have killed your disciple long ago. I'm here just to fulfill a promise."

  Alaric appeared at that moment, green light flashing in his hand, spears created from trees shooting out sharp and deadly. A sphere formed right where the white-robed person had been floating.

  But immediately after, Alaric fell to his knees, hands clutching his head, groaning in pain.

  The skill he had just cast was instantly dispelled, and the white-robed person smirked, then curiously looked toward Darkan.

  "That's the proper reaction under my attack, isn't it?" his voice sounded disappointed. "The Berserker school. Truly good seeds indeed."

  Darkan was about to speak when the white-robed person snapped his fingers. An invisible force threw Darkan away as if he weren't a Tier 7 Physical Cultivator, not the nightmare of Maelivar.

  While Darkan sought a way to fly back, the white-robed person moved closer above Nathan.

  "Young man," his voice was cheerful, "you truly survived without dying, eh?"

  "You don't seem very happy about it," Nathan taunted.

  The forgettable face of his opponent widened his eyes, mouth opening wide.

  "I'm actually overjoyed. Your survival proves one thing. How promising your path ahead will be."

  Darkan had returned, only to be thrown away again. Nathan could see the mana barrier erected to block Darkan's compressed air punch from the white-robed person.

  "Hmmm," he narrowed his eyes at Nathan. "There's a change in you. Oh! Impossible! Your bloodline is gone. The system?"

  Fuck's sake, do you all just know people's secrets they try to hide? Nathan silently cursed.

  "Tsk tsk. No need to be so afraid. Young man, would you like to meet someone like you? Someone who also possesses a special system?"

  The question caught Nathan off guard. He was dumbfounded by the sudden offer.

  Boom!

  Darkan still wouldn't give up.

  "Your master is truly amusing!" the white-robed person said helplessly. "Can't do anything yet persists endlessly."

  That was precisely what made Nathan admire Darkan. But perhaps the white-robed person wouldn't understand, and Nathan didn't want to speak much with him.

  "Your Fortune Flow is no longer stable. But it fluctuates. Your role in everything is still guaranteed. I truly didn't misjudge."

  Nathan's expression darkened.

  Alaric escaped the attack, raising his hand to one side.

  Far from the ninth mountain, Verdant Spire trembled. Around the wooden tower that pointed sharply to the sky as if piercing the moon, earth and stones fell as it tried to fly up.

  This event made disciples and elders still in the main hall rush outside to look up. When they tried to see clearly what was happening, their spirits were mercilessly struck.

  An enemy.

  Everyone instantly understood. They shuddered realizing the opponent had come so close. Verdant Spire was being used, a weapon Alaric would only touch at the moment of destruction.

  "No need to be so troublesome," the white-robed person said irritably. "I haven't killed anyone yet, haven't even hurt anyone. Either stay put, or I'll take that treasure too. Then this place will be called Nothing Sect or Barren Sect just because of your foolish action."

  Alaric, his hair disheveled, his kind face hardened. His hand trembled then lowered, not daring to act further.

  Under absolute power, all techniques, all tricks were futile.

  Darkan returned once more. For the first time, he didn't act recklessly, just standing there silently. The helplessness and inadequacy from a week ago again bore down on him. He looked at his disciple, his jaw clenched so hard it bled inside.

  "Good, good!" the white-robed person laughed loudly. "That's better. I just want to talk. I'm not unreasonable like those at Maelivar."

  "But you're the one who let the boy fall into that situation," Darkan accused.

  "True that," the white-robed person didn't deny. "That's why I'm here today to compensate."

  His gaze fell upon Nathan with a spine-chilling intensity.

  "Nathan! Null Resonance! You must be thinking your future has ended, right? But what if I told you, I'm the one who understands you best? The one who shares your feelings?"

  Nathan narrowed his eyes, seeming to understand.

  "That's right, young man," the white-robed person said loudly. "I too am Null Resonance."

  Nathan's ears buzzed, waves surging within him.

  "And see what this Null Resonance has done to the two strongest in your sect."

  Alaric and Darkan pressed their lips together, unable to retort.

  "Don't let the beliefs, dogmas, or so-called accurate science of this world affect you, Nathan. You have the foundation to follow the path I've walked. Come find me when you want to know true power. Or when you want to see the truth of the world and truly act upon it."

  "Shut up," Darkan growled.

  With just a glance, Darkan, like Alaric before, had his defenses pierced. Though he could recover quickly, when he returned, Darkan wore a serious expression. This person outwardly appeared only Tier 6 but possessed power more terrifying than that Tier 7.

  "This is compensation for pushing you into danger."

  Before Nathan appeared two items. One was the fishing rod the white-robed person always carried. The other was a command token with a brass-like surface.

  "Find me when you're ready," the white-robed person's voice was solemn. "I formally invite you from today and give you the privilege of consideration. Nathan, come to us Truefacers. No one will dare obstruct you when you come bearing my token. Keep it safe. It can help you in dangerous situations. Come find me, Nathan. Take my life if you want to. I would be so happy if you could accomplish that. Whether out of hatred or for any other reason. I will accept it because you must remember clearly. I am the one who pushed you into danger. Don't be a pussy and do nothing about it!”

  Having said this, he laughed loudly with satisfaction as if having completed a great deed.

  "A new era is coming," he spread his arms and slowly vanished into the air.