Crack!
A sturdy mahogany table splintered under the grip of a hand that resembled an iron claw. Wood chips fell from what appeared to be an otherwise fair and delicate hand.
Sitting beside the table was a man in a purple brocade robe, draped in a black cloak. His beauty was almost too striking for a man, more akin to a woman's grace. His pale skin seemed so tender that it could drip water, his nose sharp and high, and his eyes bright like stars in the night sky. His eyebrows arched gracefully like silkworms, and his phoenix-shaped eyes gleamed with a cold light.
This man was Leo, the cousin of Steward Edric, and ranked among the top three black-clad disciples of the Heavenly Demon Clan.
In the West Wing of the black-clad disciples, only Valentino could rival him. Leo was notorious for his ruthless methods.
"Two useless idiots!"
His low, magnetic voice resonated from his lips as he spat the words, laced with venom.
Two black-clad disciples, trembling, lay prostrate on the ground without the slightest hint of dignity. They dared not utter a single word in protest.
The pitiful behavior of these two was hardly representative of the fierce reputation that the disciples of the Heavenly Demon Clan held. They looked like two miserable wretches.
But judging by the terror-stricken silence of the other black-clad disciples standing around, it was clear just how much authority Leo held among them.
"A mere servant who had just become a black-clad disciple, a scum who killed my worthless cousin—and yet you two, who are even more worthless, failed to capture him and bring him before me. You'd better give yourselves an explanation."
Leo raised his hand gently. As he did, the two men on the floor trembled, barely daring to lift their heads. When Leo picked up the teacup from the table, both men sighed slightly in relief.
These two were none other than the disciples who had attempted to capture Aizen. They had been so full of swagger when they went after him, but now they were like two beaten dogs, groveling for mercy.
Leo took a sip of tea. He hadn't even lowered the cup when he let out a long sigh. His eyes began to settle lazily on the two disciples.
The two men gritted their teeth in unison, their faces twisted with desperation, before they each reached out and snapped off their own pinky fingers.
Crack!
The sound of bones breaking was enough to make one's teeth ache. At that moment, Leo's eyes finally opened, landing lazily on the two men.
Their faces contorted in pain as veins bulged on their foreheads, but they clenched their teeth and pulled hard.
Thud!
A fountain of blood shot out from their mutilated fingers as they yanked off their pinkies, the bone exposed beneath the skin. Blood pooled on the ground beneath them, staining the floor red.
Around them, the other black-clad disciples stood in stoic silence, though many of their eyes twitched in discomfort. Despite their composed expressions, a cold shiver ran down their spines. A few, however, gazed at the blood with a flicker of excitement, as if relishing the scent of fresh blood.
"Hmm..." Leo hummed softly, nodding in approval. "To know your mistake and correct it is praiseworthy. I'll spare your lives. Now eat."
As he spoke, Leo set down his teacup with a gentle clink, and the two disciples kneeling before him flinched as though their hearts had skipped a beat.
With forced calm, the two men took their bloodied fingers and, swallowing hard, shoved the severed digits into their mouths.
A glimmer of satisfaction flashed in Leo's phoenix-shaped eyes. Torturing his subordinates in this manner never failed to bring him a sense of pleasure.
This was power—this was what authority looked like.
"Nine, go kill that brat..." Leo ordered casually, rising to his feet. His long black cloak trailed behind him as he walked slowly toward the side hall. The two rows of black-clad disciples bowed deeply as they exited the hall, with one of them quickly disappearing from the courtyard.
Meanwhile, Aizen had just finished packing up his belongings in his thatched hut.
He had dug out the remaining eight hundred taels of silver, which he stuffed into a worn cloth bag. His other belongings were minimal, all packed into a small bundle.
Despite being ready to leave, Aizen didn't head immediately to the valley where the black-clad disciples resided. Instead, he sat back on his bed, quietly immersing himself in the connection with the Wisdom System.
A stream of information flashed across his retina, displaying the Sorcery arts he had learned.
Basic Fist and Footwork (Non-ranked External Technique):
Level: 1stProficiency: 15%Evaluation: Beginner.
Star-Sucking Technique (Fourth-Rank Internal Art):
Level: 1stProficiency: 6%Evaluation: Beginner.
Both techniques had improved, especially his basic fist and footwork, which had reached 15% proficiency. It seemed that frequent combat had been the reason for such rapid growth.
As for the Star-Sucking Technique, its proficiency had barely increased, which made sense.
After all, in his recent fights, Aizen had been consciously holding back from using the Star-Sucking Technique, relying instead on channeling his internal Aura to enhance his physical strength and resilience.
Given that he had been deliberately restraining himself, the essence of the Star-Sucking Technique hadn't been fully displayed or practiced, which explained why its proficiency hadn't increased.
But Aizen wasn't in a hurry. While proficiency indicated a technique's power, the Star-Sucking Technique was, after all, an internal art. Even if it wasn't fully utilized, just harnessing the internal Aura alone was enough for him to dominate among the lower-level disciples at this stage.
Moreover, the unique abilities of the Star-Sucking Technique were too astonishing. With his current strength, it was best to keep the technique's full power hidden.
If he ever revealed the full extent of its power, it would mean he had to eliminate anyone who had witnessed it.
The potential of an internal technique as powerful as the Star-Sucking Technique in a place like the Heavenly Demon Clan would inevitably attract unwanted attention if it were discovered that a mere black-clad disciple possessed it.
Regaining his composure, Aizen shifted his focus to the 500 Wisdom points he had accumulated.
He no longer needed an explanation for the value of these points. Based on his past experiences, he guessed that his daily routine of sweeping the floors under Steward Edric had likely counted as a recurring daily task.
Each daily task rewarded 100 Wisdom points, which explained why he had accumulated over 1,500 points in the half-year he spent under Edric's command. The Wisdom System had recorded those points and retroactively granted them when it activated.
Now, however, it seemed obtaining these points wouldn't be so easy. Aizen certainly had no intention of returning to sweeping the courtyard.
As for random missions like the one that triggered when he killed Edric and Lilith, those were unpredictable and based on luck. His best bet at this point would be to continue rising through the ranks by becoming a higher-level disciple, which might also reward Wisdom points.
But such things couldn't be rushed. The rewards from promotions alone wouldn't satisfy his ambitions.
The real key to quickly becoming stronger wasn't just to practice in isolation—it was to seek out opportunities by taking on Clan missions and seeing if they could provide him with more Wisdom points.
In completing these missions, he could not only hone his abilities but also adapt to the power he had gained. It was an excellent way to grow.
Of course, his next step would be to take a gamble.
He would see if his 500 points could be exchanged for a Mid-level Wisdom Chest and whether it could grant him a more powerful Sorcery art with greater offensive capabilities.