“You saw that dirty mutt? He sure changed up his tune once we got a hold of his sister. Haha, the look on his face was ridiculous. He actually kowtowed for over a night,” a lanky man said, laughing as he slapped the back of his fellow guardsman.
“Don’t touch me. This is why no one wants to be hanging out with you. We’re just here to do our jobs and get a damn living.” The other, a man with dead eyes, shrugged his shoulder as he moved away.
Shuren saw the ridiculous scene, striding forth with his hands relaxed in his pockets. Not even Stage 1, just a pair of mortals. I expected better.
The lanky man scratched his stomach, like a fly was stuck under his skin. “Come on, Chev, I know a good spot. I’m telling you when-”
“Enough. This is why some random kid’s walking up on us. Do your damn job and scare him off,” Chev the guard walked towards Shuren, and soon his lanky colleague followed through. “You’re no worker. State your business.”
“An appointment with your leader.” Shuren raised his chin, even if he was a head shorter than the guards. “We have a deal to follow up with.”
Chev scrutinised Shuren, his eyes squinting with a hint of suspicion, but patted his lanky colleague as he walked away. “I’m going to check. You keep an eye on him.”
And right as Chev turned away, the lanky man stood a foot closer to Shuren. He opened his mouth to speak, stinking of alcohol.
Shuren backhanded his chin.
The man fell.
Chev heard nothing, but gears continued in his head as he muttered a few things, slowly turning his head around. His hand that held onto the sheathe of his sword trembled, taking it out with instinct. “Wait, something’s off about that kid. I’ll-”
At the sight of Shuren, he cut himself off and swung a brutish downward slice across Shuren’s body.
His blade shattered. An iron fist slammed right into his face, knocking him out in that one motion.
With a single strike, both men fell unconscious.
Shuren shook his fist so all the splinters of metal could fall. There was only one reason he could do such a feat.
He had an Iron Grade Talisbody.
Talisbody was one of the three aspects of all cultivators, alongside Talispirit and Talisoul.
It was the development of your external durability, alongside understanding your internal body as a cultivator. It both worked to gain new Spiritual Meridians and strengthen the physical body to surpass the limits of a mortal.
And Talisbody could only be upgraded through sheer effort, as every living being had to start from nothing and train until they reached Bronze Grade Talisbody. No treasure in the world could upgrade it, aside from yourself, a Heavenly Blessing or Cursed Anomaly at birth.
The stages of Talisbody were Bronze, Iron, Silver, Gold and Jade. The further stages were reserved for those beyond Rank 6; Immortal Cultivators.
Most cultivators his age would only have a Bronze Grade Talisbody. To get to Iron Grade before reaching Rank 2 as a cultivator meant this man had spent years of his gruelling life training his body to its peak!
“Not even worth a warm up.”
Dealing with both in a breath, Shuren casually walked towards the factory.
And it had only been ten minutes so far since he left.
If it wasn’t for his oath, I would’ve convinced father to give up with that Formation Master.
The Oaths of a cultivator were vital to their reputation, especially when sworn by the Architect. And Shuren was confident that Zelfin wouldn’t want to sour his relationship with the Liu family in Cloud City over a simple favour.
“It’s past the mid day toll, so the workers should’ve already gone back in. It’ll be good to see how the Huang Clan manufactures their weapons.” Shuren stood in front of the factory, the size dozens larger than his own manor. Unlike most of the buildings and pagodas in Cloud City, this infrastructure was built with ores, iron and otherwise. It had dozens of spires littered around the roof, churning out filth that was gradually cleansed through an array. Shuren frowned as he bore with the stifling stench of soot and oil.
But what brought his attention was something else entirely.
Shuren weaved and controlled his Qi, to focus around his eyes, sharpening his vision. With that, he saw the lines and inscriptions that ran across the building. A Rank 1 Formation on the building, most likely a defensive structure, so it couldn’t be taken down by a group of mortals in protest.
Two massive doors were at the entrance, but would only be opened during the entry and exit of all its workers. On the far right, there was a standard door for those entering at different timings.
The simple defence formation wasn’t enough to deter Shuren what so ever. Low grade formation. I barely needed to exert any effort. So much for the Huang Clan.
With both arms on the door, Shuren pushed.
The creaks of the doors resounded across the factory, and the powerful stench of dark oil and burning metal came from within.
He did not break a single sweat. Stretching his shoulders, Shuren walked straight into the factory.
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The sounds of metal being struck by automated machinery, the roars of flames in the furnaces, and the scent of smoky oil and ores were a cacophony of sensations to Shuren. It was wholly unlike the clean and serene landscapes he was used to. They’ve managed to automate this much work with just mere mortals on such a large scale… Without even formations or runic inscriptions and cultivators to assist. The recent technology the Seven Clouds Sect has brought in has been quite unique.
Memories flitted past Shuren, of his youth in the Granxian continent and recently in Cloud City. Or perhaps there are even stranger things in the other corners of the world.
Shuren ignored the attention of the nearby workers, walking closer inwards. No one could hear him, nor even sense him. The sound of his footsteps was swallowed by the bellowing roars of the factory. His clean skin, free from soot and dust, gave the nearby audience an inkling of his nature.
Churning Qi around his hands and throat, Shuren lifted both hands apart.
He clapped.
A thunderous clap that brought everyone in the factory to his attention. The sounds of metal ceased, the furious fires slept, and the clashing of machinery slowed.
“You are all to leave for the hour. The Liu Clan has business with the leader.”
His voice echoed and reverberated across the entire factory, bringing attention to all.
A middle-aged Silvent jogged towards Shuren, his forehead dripping with sweat. The sweat wasn’t from the heat, but rather, Shuren’s appearance. He bent his knee to kowtow.
Shuren raised a palm. “Speak your mind.”
“My gratitudes, Lord Cultivator. I am the foreman of this sector. If you wish for us all to leave, I must relay this message to the owner first.”
Before the Silvent foreman even realised, Shuren had already stood by his side. He left a palm on his shoulder.
Yet that palm felt like a boulder.
“Where is worker Qaen?”
He realised the severity of the situation. “O-only the owner would know, L-lord Cultivator.”
“Good. Do as I say.”
The foreman didn’t dare to waste any more of Shuren’s time. Clasping his hands to bow, he understood his command. “I will organise all workers to leave right now, Lord Cultivator.”
Shuren watched as over a hundred workers, tradesmen of all sorts, leave the factory at once. Most of them were either Silvents or Vulfoans, which wasn’t a surprise.
In the midst was a bald man, trying to push through towards the exit. He wasn’t clothed like the workers, instead wearing a simple shirt and pants. A simple human.
“The Stage 1 Qidense cultivator. Take a step out of the factory, and you’ll need a cane for the rest of your life.” Shuren oozed his Qi Aura, sending invisible pressure. Though mortals wouldn’t be affected much, it was a signal fellow cultivators were highly attuned to.
The shuffling of steps quietened. Everyone looked at each other to figure out who the person was.
The bald man shuddered. He forced his way through the crowd towards Shuren, rubbing the back of his head. “Senior brother! This junior is ready to be of service!”
“I trust you weren’t playing messenger to the Huang Clan, junior.” Shuren said to the man, even if he were a couple of decades older than him.
“I-I wouldn’t dare to. I was simply following your commands.”
The hierarchy of age meant little. In the world of cultivators, what made you a senior was your power. In general, the more powerful you were, the older you tended to be. Cultivators had many ways to rejuvenate their skin and maintain their youth.
Shuren nodded to the crowd, signalling them to leave. The heart of the factory was now stilled, with just Shuren and his junior left. “Lead me to the head office.”
“Yes, senior! This one endeavours to guide you to the owner.”
Shuren observed his surroundings as he was led by his junior. Comparing this place to the works of his father, it was a stark contrast.
In terms of mass manufacturing and efficiency, the Huang Clan far outclasses our family business. But we hold paramount pride in our craftsmanship. Once father makes his deal with the Silverwoods Factions, he can finally manufacture his Spiritude Artifacts on a larger scale. If I become a Core Disciple of the Seven Clouds Sect, I can use my status to facilitate benefits to my family.
There were numerous methods of crafting weapons and armour. Though Metallurgy was a common vocation, Woodspirits Smithing, was what his father specialised in. And the development of Spiritude Artifacts was his magnum opus; a weapon that would grow in strength alongside the wielder.
Shuren expected to be climbing up to the higher levels of the factory, but instead was led down further towards the underground. Amongst the eerie silence, it was clear that the guards would’ve long reconvened with the owner of this factory by now.
The underground basement was a stark contrast to the ground floors of the factory; red carpet was sewn across the floor, with engraved wooden doors and an open space to the point this place could double as a tavern.
Shuren stopped by one of the doors. “Wait for me here.”
“Senior brother, the boss’s room is just u-”
Shuren only looked down on his bald junior to get him to shut up. There’s a bunch of Stage 1’s and Stage 2’s in the Qidense Realm in this room. It’d be quite boring if I come here without even warming myself up.
He didn’t even bother gracefully opening the door, rather kicking it down with force.
A man relaxed at his table eating food was thoroughly fed mouthful of a door as it slammed right into his face.
“Captain Guanzi! The intruders appeared here!” The largest guard with a broadsword on his back yelled out, dropping the metal shelf full of paperwork at his side.
Captain Guanzi, armoured with a simple sword, pointing his weapon up high. “Everyone, get ready for an attack!” Without hesitation, the group of guards in the middle of moving any vital evidence acted. “Shit! They got lil Zhang already!”
Shuren walked in with his hands held behind his back. Half a dozen guards in the middle of moving ledgers and paperwork were in front of a captured Silvent man.
“Aren’t you a well-established company? What’s there to hide?” Shuren taunted, eyeing the worker at the back. Whoever’s running this factory is quite clever. He already deduced that someone of status forced his way in from the news he would’ve received. But, I can use this to my advantage.
“Red haired Silvent in the back. Are you the one called Qaen?”
The captured man with a rag in his mouth rapidly nodded his head to answer in return.
“Your one-legged friend sent me here.” Shuren walked to the collapsed guard unlucky enough to get slammed by the broken door. With a precise strike to the back of his head, his feigned collapse became real.
But not once did he reveal the power of his Qi. For the six guards in the room, he didn’t need them to all run away.
“Those who run away will die. Those who cower will die. If you want to live…”
Unarmed, he stood. His left hand taunted as it beckoned them all to fight.
“Then make me work up a sweat!”
With the advent of the sect finale, Shuren needed to have a warm up!
----------------------------------------
“The sect finale is coming up soon. Can’t waste too much time on this.”
A young man held a reed in his mouth. His dark green hair rusted in the winds, defiled in the smell of blood. Wearing the robes of a cultivator from the Seven Clouds Sect, the characters noting Haze were engraved on its side.
Corpse upon corpses were strewn, all facing an ominous statue in the centre. “If the villagers keep worshipping this thing, we’ll have to brand them as demonic beings. They sure love making it a hassle for me, huh.”
Haze stood, knocking on the statue of a dead man, yet seemingly alive at the same time. There were no signs of battle, yet around it were dead corpses piled.
“Still can’t remove it. I’ll just leave a barrier for now and head back.”
Haze turned his back, leaving the Kallas Jungles. “They’re changing up the sect finale this year. Guess they’re finally ramping up on getting more potential kids for the battle around the Unhallowed Monolith. Honestly, for such a calm and relaxed Sect Leader, he really can seem bloodthirsty at times.”
The disciple walked away, humming an old tune of the shattered ten rings.
As a six-winged three-eyed firefly landed on the head of the bedevilled statue.