Kapitel 23: Senior Chen
"Look, he's back. It's been forty minutes already. Does that mean he's already a Spirit King?" a tall, wiry youngster whispered to his friend in the queue, his voice tinged with a mixture of awe and skepticism.
"No way he advanced to Spirit King in a single day," his companion shot back, shaking his head dismissively. "More likely, he got extra tokens because he's the Clan Leader's son."
"Yeah, probably. With black talent, the clan's going to pour resources into him anyway," the tall one muttered, unable to hide the sour note of jealousy creeping into his voice.
Despite their envy, neither seemed particularly angry. In their hearts, they understood. If they had black talents, they'd be granted the same privileges.
"We can still achieve something if we work hard," another voice chimed in. A black-haired lad with piercing dark-blue eyes approached the group, his presence commanding instant respect. "What rank do you think the Spirit Artifact he received is?"
"Ah, Senior Chen," the tall youngster greeted, clasping his hands respectfully. "Welcome. I think he probably got at least a Rank 4 Spirit Artifact. What do you think?"
Chen chuckled softly, shaking his head. "A Rank 4? You're underestimating the situation. I'd wager he received at least one Rank 5 Spirit Artifact—and likely three Rank 4s to accompany it. Think about it. The new Purple Talent, Liu Mei, walked out of the Spirit Treasury with a Rank 4 Spirit Sword. If she got that much, what do you think they'd give someone with black talent?"
The group fell silent, nodding at his logic. "Senior Chen's words make sense," one of them finally said, his gaze following Xuefeng as he exited the hall. "Maybe he'll show us his Spirit Artifact."
Unaware of their hushed speculation, Xuefeng stepped outside, his eyes scanning the area. He quickly spotted Wuying and Princess Shan, though his relief turned to confusion when he noticed two unfamiliar men standing with them. Their expressions were tight, irritation flickering in their eyes.
Xuefeng made his way toward the pair, who turned the moment they saw him. Their faces lit up instantly, and they rushed to him, linking their arms with his as though claiming him as their own. The shift in their demeanor was so sudden it left the two men staring, their smiles dropping faster than a blade.
The two strangers, Spirit Kings from the External Clan, were accustomed to admiration. They had returned to the Liu Clan fresh from a dangerous mission, confident their scars and stories would charm the two beauties. But after five minutes of their best efforts, the women had all but fled into the arms of the "trash" Young Master.
We risk our lives on missions, and this pampered prince sits at home collecting women like trophies, one of them thought bitterly, his jaw tightening.
"What's going on?" Xuefeng asked, his brows knitting together. He glanced down at the two women clinging to his arms, their sudden closeness catching him off guard.
"You took too long," Princess Shan complained, pressing her chest against his arm with deliberate boldness. "Some flies started bothering us."
Wuying mirrored her move, leaning into him as if staking her own claim. "Don't worry, though," she said lightly, her voice carrying an edge that only the men behind them seemed to catch. "We handled it."
The crowd, which had been surreptitiously watching, exchanged looks brimming with envy. Black talent, a key to the Spirit Treasury, and now two stunning beauties hanging on his arms? Even for a Young Master, it was excessive.
"Young Master," one of the Spirit Kings called out, his tone straining for friendliness. "How about you introduce us to the ladies?" His eyes darted between Wuying and Shan, lingering far too long for comfort.
Xuefeng ignored him entirely, turning instead to Wuying. "Where's Elder Ming?" he asked.
"He left to handle some business," she replied casually, as though the two men weren't standing there, their stares growing darker by the second. "Did you pick up the Spirit Artifacts I told you about?"
"Yeah, I got everything you suggested—and more," Xuefeng said, his chest puffing slightly with pride.
"What ranks did you get?" Princess Shan asked, her curiosity lighting up her face.
"Hey! I'm talking to—" the Spirit King tried again, his voice tinged with rising frustration, but his companion clamped a hand over his mouth.
"Shut it," he hissed, his own Spirit Awareness flaring as he scanned Xuefeng. What he found froze him in place. "He's at the Grandmaster stage," he whispered, his tone a mix of disbelief and panic. "How is that even possible? When we left a month ago, he couldn't even cultivate!"
The other man's face paled as realization set in. They were toeing the line of disaster. "Let's go. We need to get caught up on what's happened while we were away."
Without another word, they turned and walked off, leaving Xuefeng to smirk faintly at their retreating backs. Avoiding unnecessary conflict was always preferable, especially with onlookers.
"You could've scared them off sooner," Xuefeng said with a glance at Wuying and Shan, his voice carrying a teasing edge.
"I prefer watching you deal with nuisances," Wuying replied smoothly, her lips curving into a sly smile. Shan chuckled, unbothered by the tension that had just dissipated.
Xuefeng sighed, attempting to walk forward, only to realize the women still clung to him tightly. It was a pleasant enough feeling, but their closeness in public left him awkwardly aware of the eyes on them.
"Are you going to keep hugging my arms the entire way?" he asked, exasperation slipping into his tone.
"Hehe, I got used to it too fast," Princess Shan replied with an unapologetic laugh, finally letting go.
Wuying, though reluctant, followed suit, her hand lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. As they walked on, the crowd's murmurs and jealous stares followed, but Xuefeng paid them no mind. This is going to be a long day, he thought, shaking his head.
As Xuefeng and his companions vanished from view, the crowd of youngsters lingering in the queue sighed collectively, disappointment etched across their faces. Many had hoped to catch a glimpse of the Spirit Artifacts their Young Master had chosen, but their curiosity would remain unsatisfied for now.
Among them, Senior Chen stood silently, his arms crossed. Unlike the others, his disappointment was tempered by patience. Soon enough, he thought. It will all come to light.
"By the way, Senior Chen, why are you here?" a tall Grandmaster in the group asked, breaking the silence. "Did you advance to Spirit King as well?"
Chen nodded, his expression momentarily brightening with pride. "Yes. I've finally advanced, and this time, I'm going to try for the Ancestor's sword."
There was a murmur of admiration among the gathered cultivators. "Congratulations, Senior! Are you talking about the Black Flame Slayer? The sword our founder used to make his name?" one asked, their tone reverent.
"That's the one," Chen confirmed, a glimmer of determination in his eyes. "With my Dark Blue talent and my recent breakthrough to Spirit King, I think I have a chance."
The words sparked a buzz of excitement in the crowd. Liu Chen wasn't just any cultivator—his reputation for relentless dedication to swordsmanship was well-known. That he had even comprehended Sword Intent recently made his attempt at claiming the legendary sword feel like a momentous occasion.
"Good luck, Senior!" a teenage girl chimed in, her voice eager. Then, with an enthusiastic smile, she suggested, "How about we let Senior Chen skip the queue and go first?"
The idea caught on like wildfire. "Yes, let him go first," others agreed, their voices rising in unison. None dared to oppose the motion, knowing the risk of standing out for the wrong reasons.
"Then I have to thank everyone for their kindness," Chen said, bowing graciously to the girl. Without further hesitation, he stepped forward toward the counter to collect his token, a faint smile playing on his lips. He could already imagine the Black Flame Slayer in his hand, its fabled black flames burning brightly.
But reality often has a cruel sense of irony.
Standing within the Spirit Treasury's shimmering void, Senior Chen stared blankly at the Rank 5 sword in his hand. His expression darkened as frustration bubbled under the surface. He had displayed his Dark Blue Spirit Qi, even channeled his newly comprehended Sword Intent, yet the Black Flame Slayer remained out of reach.
Instead, the sword in his hand was the Liu Clan's second Rank 5 sword. While sharper than the Black Flame Slayer, it lacked the unique traits that made the latter so coveted. This wasn't the prize he had sought.
The truth hit him like a blade to the chest. The Black Flame Slayer isn't here because it's already been taken.
Chen's grip on the sword tightened. "Damn it," he hissed under his breath, his jaw clenched. There's only one explanation: the Young Master took it.
The thought burned, but the realization burned hotter. The Black Flame Slayer was no ordinary weapon. Its black flames were nearly impossible to extinguish, forcing enemies to retreat or face incineration. A sword like that wasn't just a weapon—it was a legacy.
Chen's mind whirred with possibilities, calculations forming a grim plan. "The only way to get the sword now is through a Spirit Duel," he muttered, his tone bitter. "But that can only happen if Xuefeng is at the same stage as me. How long will I have to wait for that?"
He stood motionless for a moment, his disappointment hardening into resolve. Slowly, his lips curled into a grim smile. "I will get that sword," he vowed. "Xuefeng, just you wait."
AUTORENGEDANKEN 
Piokilek
Piokilek Status: Edited
Kapitel 24: Perfect Son-In-Law
It had been two days since the Xiao Family had severed the marriage agreement with the Tang Family, yet the air in the capital was still thick with tension. Gossip swirled like an unchecked wildfire, reaching far beyond the city walls, spreading to the great clans and distant cities of the Central Region. Theories abounded, but one stood above the rest: war was imminent. The Xiao and Tang Families were both titans, and when titans clashed, the world shook.
But curiously, no swords had been drawn, no ultimatums issued. Instead, a strange silence hovered over the situation, leaving the public on edge.
For the young masters of other prominent families, however, this was a moment of celebration. The cancellation of the wedding opened the floodgates of opportunity. Aspirants from all corners of the Central Region packed their belongings and rushed to the capital, driven by dreams of wooing the unattainable Xiao princess. She wasn't just a prize; she was a legend, a symbol of beauty and mystery.
In the Xiao Family's main palace, behind gilded doors and grand walls, an entirely different atmosphere prevailed. The tension inside the study was palpable, though not of the kind the public envisioned. Tang Fei, the imposing leader of the Tang Family and father of the jilted groom, sat across from Xiao Fang, leader of the Xiao Family. Between them lay not just a table, but an unspoken battlefield of influence and pride.
Tang Fei raised his teacup, the porcelain so delicate it seemed absurd in his calloused hands, and took a measured sip. His expression betrayed no anger, only curiosity—a stillness that was somehow more unnerving than any outburst. "Tell me," he said, breaking the silence, "why cancel the wedding? What changed?"
Xiao Fang mirrored the movement, though his hand tightened around the cup ever so slightly. He took his time answering. "The reason is simple," he said at last, his voice flat but firm. "My daughter attempted suicide."
The words hung in the air like a blade suspended on a thread. Tang Fei's eyebrows rose slightly, but he said nothing, waiting for more.
"She didn't want to marry your son," Xiao Fang continued, his tone unyielding. "If he truly wishes to wed her, he'll need to win her heart. I refuse to risk her life for a marriage of convenience, no matter the benefits."
Tang Fei nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. "A heavy decision, but understandable. Rushing them into this... that's on us. Perhaps we underestimated her resolve."
Xiao Fang sighed, a flicker of regret crossing his face. "Yes, we assumed they could develop feelings later. A mistake, clearly."
Tang Fei leaned back, his gaze turning contemplative. "You and I both know why this marriage was arranged," he said. "Before we attempt to ascend to the Spirit God stage, we need to solidify our families' bonds. Only then can we leave this realm with some assurance of their safety."
"I haven't forgotten," Xiao Fang replied, though a hint of frustration crept into his voice. "But we still have time. If this doesn't work, we'll explore other paths."
A soft knock at the door interrupted them. Tang Fei's eyes flicked toward it, his Spirit Awareness extending briefly. "My son is here. Let's hear what he has to say."
Xiao Fang waved his hand, releasing the lock on the door with a flicker of black Spirit Qi. The doors creaked open to reveal a young man of striking appearance. He wore a white fighting robe embroidered with a coiled black dragon, the threads gleaming faintly in the light. Even a beggar on the street would recognize that symbol—it marked him as a member of the prestigious Azure Dragon Faction of the Four Elements Academy.
In the Central Region, the Four Elements Academy was legendary, a place where only the most exceptional were trained. The factions—Azure Dragon, Vermilion Bird, White Tiger, and Black Turtle—represented the pinnacle of their respective disciplines. To hold the Black Dragon rank within the Azure Dragon Faction meant Tang Taizong was already a Spirit Lord at the age of sixteen, a prodigious achievement.
Yet his expression betrayed none of the humility one might expect from someone entering the room of two titans. His irritation was palpable as he approached the table, his steps clipped.
"Father," Tang Taizong began, his tone sharp, "I did everything I could, but she still refuses to meet with me."
Tang Fei's calm exterior didn't waver, but Xiao Fang's frown deepened.
"I've heard the servants whispering," Taizong continued, his voice growing louder. "They're saying I forced her to attempt suicide. If this rumor spreads, my reputation will be ruined. Everyone will mock me!"
Xiao Fang set his cup down with a deliberate click, his gaze hardening. So this is the boy my daughter was meant to marry, he thought. Not a word about her well-being, only his precious reputation.
"Taizong," Tang Fei said, his voice low and dangerous, "mind your tone."
But Taizong either didn't notice or didn't care. "Why should I? This whole situation—"
Before he could finish, a sudden wave of Spirit Aura crashed over him, heavy as a tidal wave. Tang Fei's usually composed face twisted in anger. "Kneel."
The command was a hammer blow, and Taizong's legs buckled beneath him. He hit the ground hard, the color draining from his face as he gasped under the crushing pressure.
"I apologize for my son's insolence," Tang Fei said, his tone cool but laced with menace. "Taizong, beg forgiveness."
Taizong struggled to lift his head, the weight of his father's aura pressing down like an iron cage. "I... I apologize for my impudence. Please forgive me."
Xiao Fang regarded him for a long moment before nodding. "I hope it doesn't happen again. If I hear you value your reputation over my daughter's life, this conversation will be very different."
"Yes, Sir," Taizong ground out, bowing low before staggering to his feet. He cast a final glance at his father, his eyes burning with resentment, before retreating from the room.
As the doors closed behind him, Tang Fei exhaled slowly, his Spirit Aura retracting like a sheathed blade. "I must apologize for his behavior," he said, his tone returning to its usual calm. With a flick of his wrist, a small bottle appeared, the faint glow of a Rank 7 Cultivation Pill emanating from within. "Please accept this as a token of apology. It's for your daughter."
Xiao Fang's eyes lit up at the sight of the pill. Even for a family as resourceful as his, Rank 7 Pills were treasures. "Then I won't be polite," he said, taking the bottle and slipping it into his storage ring.
Tang Fei stood, his movements as graceful as they were deliberate. "We'll take our leave. Let's hope our children can resolve this themselves."
"Indeed," Xiao Fang replied, rising to see him off. As Tang Fei disappeared, Xiao Fang sank back into his chair, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Finding the perfect son-in-law is harder than crafting a Rank 9 Spirit Artifact," he muttered.
And with a glance toward the hallway where his daughter's laughter used to echo, he couldn't help but wonder about the future of his family.
AUTORENGEDANKEN
Piokilek
Piokilek
Status: Edited
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