Elder's POV
Heh. Fresh meat. Every year, new disciples waltz in with their heads full of grandeur, dreaming of cultivation as if it's their birthright. They think they'll soar through realms in weeks. I take particular pleasure in watching them squirm, lost, and grasping for Qi like toddlers reaching for a torchfly.
"Cultivate." That's it—no instructions, no handholding. It's tradition. Let them fumble. Why should they have it any easier than I did? I cultivated to soul formation realm with measly grade-2 talent and nothing else.
This morning's batch is no different. They sit, brows furrowed, eyes squeezed shut, as they desperately try to "feel" the Qi around them. Most of them look like they're about to burst a blood vessel. Beautiful.
Wait… what the…?
WHAT THE FUCK!?
My eyes lock onto one disciple. He's sitting there all serene, just casually absorbing Qi like it's air. That's not normal. That's not even remotely possible for a newbie. My heart skips a beat. Wait, Is this kid some kind of my hear demon, fuck, it can't be?
I feel my blood pressure rising as the murmurs in the crowd start.
"Woah, look at him! He's absorbing so much Qi. His talent must be insane."
"Just look at how handsome he is, even while meditating. His eyes are closed, and he looks so—kyaaaah!"
"Don't you guys know? He's the Michael. The guy who has everything. Background, looks, and he's got grade-4 talent too!"
This… this brat has everything. Unbelievable. I clawed my way to Soul Formation with a measly Grade 2 talent. I scrimped and struggled, pushing my mediocre talent to its limits for centuries to reach where I am today. And this kid—this spoiled brat with his perfect face, good background, and talent that only appears once in a lifetime—he waltzes in like cultivation's his birthright?
Fine. Let's see how well you fare under my supervision, kid. I'm not about to let you coast by on privilege. If he thinks he can stroll into the upper realms without sweating, he's got another thing coming.
Michael's POV
"You there!" the elder barks, his voice cutting through my meditation like a knife. "You're that Michael with Grade 4 talent, aren't you? Stop meditating and open your eyes."
I crack open one eye, blinking up at him. Can't a guy catch a break? I'm here, trying to do exactly what I was told, and suddenly I've got a hawk-eyed elder breathing down my neck.
"Yes, I'm Michael," I say, feigning the kind of obedience I imagine they expect. "Is there a problem, sir?"
His response isn't immediate. Instead, he stares—hard—at my face. At first, I think he's just annoyed, but then I notice his eyes widen, a flicker of surprise breaking his stern facade.
"Those eyes…" he mutters, almost to himself. "Blue…"
Oh boy, here we go. My good ol' VIP pass in action. I watch as the realization hits him. Yep, buddy, you're looking at royalty. Try not to faint.
"S-S-Sorry for disturbing you, Your Royal Highness, Michael."
"Y-Y-Your Royal Highness, Michael," the elder continue, "I've heard you're a Grade 4 talent," he continued. "Could you please Demonstrate your Qi-gathering technique for everyone here?"
Sigh, I see what he's doing. Trying to save his dignity by making me give a demonstration so everyone thinks that he still has command, but now that I already am playing as a prince, why not go, full professional, as crown prince.
"Elder," I said, my voice as regal as I could muster, "as the crown prince of the Azure Empire, I'm accustomed to… autonomy." I paused, savoring the shocked look on his face. "I'm here to cultivate, not perform, do you take me for a performer?"
His expression faltered, confusion quickly shifting to a mix of anger and—was that fear?
"Did he just say crown prince?"
"Of course, only someone like him could refuse an elder."
"Wow… I think I'd faint if he just looked my way."
"This guy really isn't like the rest of us. Look at the elder—he doesn't even know how to respond!"
Elder's POV
"I apologize, Your Royal Highness, I did not mean that, please calm your anger," I managed to say, my voice strained. "I'll let you continue cultivating—Your Royal Highness." The title felt like a thorn in my throat, but I forced it out. I could already hear the whispers growing louder around us. Hmph, Let him have his small victory; his royal background won't protect him forever.
Michael's POV
As the elder finally stepped back, his face a storm cloud of suppressed rage, I resisted the urge to smirk. "Your Royal Highness"—he'd actually said it! I could hardly contain my laughter. Playing the royal card might just be my favorite new trick.
I caught Lina's eye, and she was barely holding back her surprise. "A crown prince of an empire, huh? He really talks like a prince" she whispered.
I shrugged, trying really hard to keep a straight face. "It's amazing what people believe when you have the right talent and coloured eyes."
Kael, who'd been watching the whole exchange with that infuriating smirk of his, leaned over. "Careful, CROWN Prince Michael. You're setting quite a standard here."
I grinned, closing my eyes to resume my meditation. "Nothing I can't handle."
The other disciples glanced my way, some still confused, others in awe, and a few glaring openly with envy. But I ignored them. This "crown prince" act might just keep things interesting.
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I know that this is quite a short chapter, but don't worry guys, I will release two chapters tomorrow as compensation.