Chương 17: Return

Running a sect was hard. Running a sect while trying to protect the disciples you consider family? That was madness. And it often came back as a bite in the ass.

"Sometimes, being good is a sin in itself." Ren let out a bitter smile.

"Unfortunately, we don't have any choice. Resisting the call to the Trial… won't have pretty consequences." Liuxue remained silent.

"Fine, I agree that's only an excuse we made because we can't resist," he said, shaking his head. He grasped his token, his gaze resolute.

"But we won't disappoint you. I'll do everything in my power to get you ready. You'll be a fine…" he paused, the word leaving a bad taste in his mouth, "weapon, indeed." She didn't answer, her gaze locked on the book. Leaving her to her thoughts, Ren opened the system panel. I hope the integration didn't erase the insignia's functions.

[Primordial's Wrath - lvl 1]: As the host of the Nascent-Moonfly Tree, you devoured and integrated another Primordial's mark left in your soul, awakening a partial Primordial-grade aura. Using it, you can trigger three separate effects: elevate your spiritual senses, spread a pseudo-Primordial-grade pressure, or stir your moonlight energy into a frenzy, doubling all your power for a duration. Note: Access to all secondary functions of the Mark remains intact.

However, since its original owner has been overridden by the Nascent Moon-fly Tree, the risk of external control has been eliminated. At the same time, the original owner can sense the loss of control if you appear near them. As expected of a Primordial, you are amazing, little sapling. And there are practically no downsides since I have no plans to visit a Primordial in the near or far future. Ren let out a relaxed sigh. He had no chance against a Primordial, no matter the situation.

So being forced to stay off its radar was a lot better than being its puppet. Furthermore, he might have gleaned a hint of who was truly behind all these insignia and the sect-management regime. Heck, the immortals behind the Trials might even be involved with this Primordial being, which might explain their utter domination of all sects. Ah, who cares? I'm just a puny mortal right now; no need to waste time on this crap. Feeling a budding headache, he massaged his temples.

"Senior brother," Liuxue said, seemed to have made up her mind.

"Can you tell me about this 'oath' you talked about? Am I supposed to swear to the heavens that I won't share or misuse this technique?" Ren couldn't help but chuckle at how absurd her words sounded to a modern person, despite how normal they were in this world.

"Nope. Even though the heavens are all-encompassing, there are too many loopholes to abuse. No matter what we make you swear, you can escape it one way or another. To prevent this, techniques like Frostveil Requiem Method need special oaths, a mark left in your soul, in other words."

"This mark thing," she murmured, rubbing her chin, "needs your insignia, right?" Ren just nodded.

"Don't worry, it won't hurt as long as you don't decide to betray the sect."

"What happens if I decide to do that?"

"Your soul gets obliterated. Poof. Simple as that." Seeing the horror in her eyes, he laughed.

"That's not the only result, of course. You can always erase the mark, along with what it entailed, if you want to leave the sect or are forced into a situation where you have to do something that might be considered a betrayal. Every elder and even some important core disciples have the same mark in their souls, actually."

"Alright, what do I need to do?"

"Just stand still." Activating the skill, Ren put a mark on her without complications— fortunately. A flicker of purple light sank into her chest. For a heartbeat, her pupils shimmered before returning to their usual dead calm. Figures, Ren thought. Of course, she'd treat a soul brand like a casual breeze. As expected of a survivor. Focusing on the mark, he noticed it didn't carry the standard insignia; instead, he found a chibi sapling. I guess it's normal. And cute.

"Alright, all done," he said, smiling. Though her unusual roots forced him to change his 'showing minimal effort' plan into 'let's play a dangerous but rewarding gamble, Ren genuinely felt happy for her. At least, with this technique, there's no longer any risk of her turning into a Fiend. Liuxue nodded mechanically, then finally opened the book, only to see empty pages.

"Ah, I forgot." Slapping his forehead, Ren scanned the book and her token with his token.

"You need to use your token before reading any book you borrowed. Once you take a book, the library creates a copy tied to your token. That way, you can read whatever you need without being stuck here. Neat, right?"

"Senior brother, have you ever thought of becoming a civil servant as a promoter?" Liuxue asked, tilting her head.

"Why?"

"No reason…" … For some reason, the 'clash' outside the section was dragging on longer than expected. So, to distract himself, Ren played with a blue ball of energy in his palm, shaking his hand from time to time to absorb excessive spiritual energy into it. [Daily Watering: 16/25] Rasengan is fun, his lips curled in satisfaction. He could feel the sneaky slivers of energy skittering in it, trying not to touch his skin as if they knew the fate of unlucky ones, and that was more fun than he imagined.

World at Palm, Second Level of Heavenly Serenity Technique chose a different approach to energy absorption than Heavenly Call. Instead of pulling the energy into his body in one overwhelming rush, he gathered it into a vortex over his palm and focused on breaking it down part by part, eliminating the risk of injury to his meridians. It also helped him to perfect his control over the spiritual energy. It was slow, of course, but less tiring. This book's true home is on another platform.

Check it out there for the real experience. Every time he shook the ball, a small pulse of energy seeped into his body— controlled, deliberate. His muscles tensed slightly, but not to the point of hurting. It felt like drops of water slowly filling a cup.

"Senior brother," Liuxue muttered, sitting opposite him. She'd been burying her head in the book the entire time, only asking what she couldn't grasp.

"It says I need to open my roots inside, then stimulate them to create a fake-death sensation before revealing them on the outside, creating a double-way insertion in the sense of spiritual energy…"

"Ah, it's simple," Ren said, shaking the ball again. World at Palm's other advantage was how little focus it needed.

"Read pages 149-156; it explains how you can activate your roots in tandem with the technique. And for the fake-death sensation, hmm… it should be page eighty-four. If you still can't understand, we can use a Deathblight Flower as a substitute for your first time. Works like a charm." He glanced at her again. Most disciples would stop after reading the first level, eager to experiment with the novel sensation of grasping those sly bastards of spiritual energy. But she…

she just flipped page after page, furrowed her brow, and kept going. Cautious, maybe. Or curious. Either way, she wasn't wasting this chance.

"Refining… seems complicated," she continued, finally taking her eyes off the book.

"It says I need to further refine the death-tinged energy even after absorbing it into my body. Why?"

"The answer lies in the question," he uttered, lifting the ball toward her.

"In its natural state, spiritual energy is mostly neutral." The ball deformed and broke into slivers of energy, its color fading in seconds.

"But when you interact with it, your roots push it in a certain direction, one specified for your use." Ren quickly waved his hand, reforming the ball again.

"Now, death is not exactly what you'd call 'human-friendly.'" He also raised his other hand and forced the vortex to spin faster. Its color deepened with his extra touch.

"If you use spiritual energy without prefixing affinity, it's easier to control. Yet that way, it's weak. On the other hand, death makes it... deadly." A wry smile parted his lips.

"It's even worse than void or simple decay. So adding a refinement step gives the energy a touch of vital force— just enough to make it usable without corrupting you. Plus, the more you refine, the purer your energy gets. I call that win-win."

"But the downside is…" she chimed in.

"It's slow. Painfully slow. And needs a steady mind. Because with one mistake," he paused, and the ball in his hand, reaching extreme speeds, suddenly burst apart, "you're back to the starting point." Of course, he absorbed all the spiritual energy before it dissipated, at the expense of a slight scalding sensation in his hand. Then he created another ball. [Daily Watering: 20/25] Not that bad, compared to Heavenly Ritual.

"Before you ask," Ren continued, seeing her lifting one brow.

"Speed isn't something we need. You can't reach Nascent Soul sooner even with the fastest techniques, and someone with a shady foundation in Golden Core can't kill a solid Foundation Establishment expert."

"What about you, senior brother?" She leaned forward, her black, deadpan eyes focusing on him.

"At what level did you participate?" Ren smirked.

"What, you want Weed Witch's role?"

"I'm starting to see her point," she said, then asked.

"When are you gonna tell them about the trial?"

"Where did that come from?" Ren blinked.

"A few years ago," she started, putting the book down. Chin resting on her hand, she wore her favorite expression.

"I met a rogue cultivator. A middle-aged man with too much mercy in his heart. He found me starving and helped me. Told me I had great roots, and that if I trained well, I could make something of myself. Maybe even change things. So he told me to come here, even if the road turned out perilous." Her voice didn't falter. It didn't carry warmth either.

"He gave me pills to refine my body. Taught me to run faster. Hit harder. How to kill without hesitation." She paused.

"He meant well, so wanderers who got nowhere to go, like me, gathered around him. Men, women, even kids. He was a good leader, but his foundation was cracked. Too many shortcuts." She looked up at Ren now.

"Two years later, we got ambushed. Wannabe-demonic cultivators. He could escape by himself, leaving others as prey. But that fool remained behind. And when we found him, he was in a ditch. Just collapsed on the road, overused a forbidden method." A flicker of something passed through her eyes.

"I buried him beneath a mountain fig. Never even knew his name." She slowly raised her finger and pointed at him.

"You remind me of him." Ren frowned. O-key… what am I supposed to get from this story? Don't play hero if you're weak? Just then, his token flashed, and he felt a strange sensation.

"You'd better come down, young Ren." He heard Master Gao's fleeting voice in his ears.

"We'll talk about this later," he said, jumping to his feet.

"Let's first see what those bastards are cooking." Whoops, he stopped suddenly, clasping his fist over the blue ball. [Daily Watering ended!] Nice! … As soon as he stepped outside the barrier, Ren felt his eyes twitching.

"Ah, sweet young master! It's truly hard to meet you nowadays," Elder Jia said, staring at him intently as if scenting fresh blood.

"And you even got a disciple, ah, what a delight." She was a beautiful woman; he had to admit that. She had an ageless allure, with porcelain-pale skin and long black hair wrapped in elegant coils, effortlessly carrying an elegant, noble air. Then why do I only feel repulsion? He didn't search long to notice the problem. Her smile never reaches her eyes. A green-tea bitch, she is.

"Can't say the same for seeing you, Elder Jia," he snorted lightly, pulling his arm before she could wrap hers around it. Still, she leaned in, pressing against his side with practiced intimacy, her voice brushing his ear.

"You're so cold lately, young master. Makes me wonder if you've forgotten all the fun we used to have… watching me limp for two whole weeks, for instance."

"I could give you the same experience," Ren said casually, not even sparing her another glance.

"You know, you just need to ask."

"Still so cruel," she whispered happily, as if he'd just complimented her hairstyle. Her smile widened.

"Exactly why I always liked you." Masochist pig. Ren walked past her, Liuxue following him like a shadow.

"What's happening, old man?" he asked toward the frowning Master Gao, standing beside Elder Ye on the cusp of the stairs. But before they could get an answer, a soft laugh rang out behind them, accompanied by an alluring perfume.

"Well, well," Elder Jia cooed, her heeled steps clicking gently on the polished floor.

"Our dear young master knows his taste in flowers." Ren's eyes narrowed. At the same time, a faint wind hissed beside him. Elder Ye landed in a crouch one step away from him, green eyes glinting beneath his hawk-like brow. His gaze jumped between them. Liuxue remained still, like prey sensing a snake in the grass, as Elder Jia sauntered closer. She tapped her jade cane with each lazy step. Her eyes narrowed, the crimson makeup painting it creasing. She locked onto Liuxue with a deliberate, lingering curiosity.

"Mmm. Such a pretty little thing," she whispered, leaning in slightly.

"So pale, so poised. And that along your neck— beautiful. A reminder of fragility. I do so love girls with history." Liuxue finally looked up. No expression crossed her face. No fear. No offense. Only the same emptiness she wore. Their eyes met— cold to cold. I'm starting to like her deadpan expression more and more. Ren's lips curled as he noticed the slight twitch in Elder Jia's lips, though she hid it in a second.

"Oh?" Instead, a smile bloomed on her face.

"You don't even flinch? How precious. Where did you find her, Ren? Did she crawl out of your nightmares? Or are you digging graves now?" She lifted her hand, her red-painted, sharp nails brushing gently against Liuxue's cheek. But before she could draw blood, a clamp-like hand grabbed her wrist.

"On second thought, Elder Jia," Ren offered the most sincere smile imaginable, though his eyes remained untouched by it.

"I could break your arms this time. You know, to balance things out."

"Young Master Ren," Elder Ye cut in, the title cracked through clenched teeth. He was angry already. Good.

"We have an urgent matter. The Council is summoning all elders to discuss the disciples chosen for the Trial preparation and your involvement. Your presence is… required." Ren paused, his gaze flickering between the two.

"You mean I'm being summoned so you can try to remove my students?"

"We didn't say that, dear," Elder Jia answered, rubbing her cheek on the back of his hand.

"But if you've taken to raising snakes, it's only fair we ask how many you plan to release into the sect." Ren's smile remained razor-thin. He yanked her and shoved her back to Elder Ye, then stepped in front of Liuxue.

"Fine, lead the way. I could use a nap," he said, then added, staring toward Elder Ye's shoulders, "Iceberg, remind me to have chicken wings tonight. Suddenly got a craving." Elder Ye's fingers twitched, his spiritual energy stirring uneasily. Liuxue nodded.

"Fried, or grilled?"

"Grilled," Ren said, "but lightly burnt. Just enough to strip the skin and enjoy the tender meat." He raised his hands slowly, fingers dancing with a surgical precision that evoked the image of flesh being stripped from bone. A silence stretched between them, Master Gao just watching. In the end, Elder Jia's laugh broke the tension.

"Ohoho, you're making me hungry— in more ways than one, young master," she said, giving the frozen Elder Ye a single pat on the shoulder before stepping back.

"What a pity you've banned me from your peak. Now then, shall we? The Council is waiting."