"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."