Mac walked beside Trevor, but his steps were deliberately shorter and slower than his usual pace, and Mac did this to make his friend feel at ease.

The two of them had skipped class at the House of Education today, too.

But Trevor didn't know that and asked, "Hey Mac, did I miss a lot of information in those two missed lessons?"

"HMM? Missed a lot of information?" Mac's expression distorted slightly before he continued.

"I wouldn't know! I only attended the last lesson, two weeks ago, when I borrowed a book from the House of Education. As for the lessons, you'd better ask our classmates. Right now, many of them are busy training at the Central Grounds," Mac replied lightly.

"So not only did you miss all of last week's classes, but you're not going to school this week either? Aren't you afraid of the consequences?" Trevor was stunned and at a loss for words, trying to cope with Mac's flippant behaviour.

"Huh? That's nothing! Forget about me, tell me how you feel. Are you feeling better?", he quickly changed the subject because he couldn't listen to the lessons at the House of Education for the umpteenth time.

"Huh? Yes, I feel much better. In a few days, my internal injuries will be completely healed. I just wish my head wouldn't hurt anymore," Trevor said with regret.

"What? Your head? What's your head got to do with it?" Mac was surprised by Trevor's answer.

"No, my head is a new injury," Trevor's smile was tinged with sadness.

"Today I went to see Re's teacher and told him what happened yesterday. The teacher was furious! Although he didn't test the strength of the new training swords on me, given the seriousness of my internal injuries, I still missed one good hit to the head from the teacher," the pity in his voice and the pain on Trevor's face were instantly apparent.

Mac only smiled slightly when he asked a question.

"Didn't you learn «Forest of Swords» technique? You mastered it at the intermediate level, so why didn't you use it?" His smile grew wider, and his eyes were full of mockery.

Trevor sighed in frustration and replied, "I didn't have a sword in my hand at the time," his shoulders slumped and head lowered, showing his frustration at the situation.

"Ha-ha-ha-ha!" Mac laughed, unable to contain himself. "I never knew Elder Re was so skilled in fist fighting!" he added, his laughter becoming even more uncontrollable.

Unfazed by Mac's laughter, Trevor sought comfort.

"Big Brother, can I lean on your shoulder? I feel a little dizzy?" asked Trevor, his face pale.

"Ha ha ha ha!" Mac laughed heartily but agreed, saying.

"Hold on tight, and don't fall on the way!"

Mac put his shoulder out and Trevor quickly grabbed onto it.

As they continued walking, Trevor mostly looked at the stone road ahead of him, but out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Mac's sturdy figure, and the image of Elder Stray materialised in his mind.

"How did your conversation with Elder Stray go yesterday?" Trevor's eyes sparkled with curiosity.

Scratching his head, Mac replied, "I think it went well. It could have been worse. Although it's probably going to be worse next time, considering I didn't go to school at the House of Education again," a wry smile appeared on Mac's face as a manifestation of his inner premonition of impending trouble.

This time it was Trevor who smiled. It wasn't that he was laughing at Mac's situation, but he just thought it was time to smile at someone other than Mac.

"Nothing really worth noting happened, we just had a nice chat. Don't make too much of it. Instead, enlighten me, how did Teacher Re punish you for yesterday?", again Mac changed the subject.

Walking along the stone road, Mac and Trevor continued their journey towards the Sect's library.

This time they passed by the Central Grounds, where many of the Sect's disciples were gathered at that time.

A vivid scene unfolded before them, combining disciplined movements, thunderous sword strikes, and the relentless pursuit of mastery. Some of them practised stances, some sword techniques, and others simply practised sword strikes on training dummies.

The absence of adepts or elders did not stop these diligent students, for they trained with unwavering concentration and without conflict. They did so as if no one else was around, as if they were the only ones standing on the Central Grounds and wielding a sword.

While Trevor was telling Mac the morning's story in detail, Mac was looking around and enjoying the view. Mighty trees flanked both sides of the rocky outcropping, their majestic presence contrasting with the crowd of Sect disciples who were practising their sword techniques.

Amidst the sea of practitioners, Mac's gaze fell on a man whose inept struggle with his own restless spirit was aggressively swinging his sword over and over again in the hope of at least approximating a strike from the sword technique book.

His rapid heartbeat and heavy, ragged breathing, drawn in through parted lips, testified to the difficulty of the sword technique. This person was Victor.

Although this technique was not considered difficult among the bronze-level techniques in the Sect's Library, it required a special mental state that Victor was unfortunately unable to master.

Mac smiled a little, exhaled sadly, and shook his head.

One of the main aspects of mastering sword techniques is unwavering concentration on one's own body and the intention behind each sword strike.

Unfortunately, Victor did not seem to know this fundamental rule. As soon as Mac subtly waved his head, Victor's eyes immediately focused on him.

The inability to execute the sword technique correctly made the student angry. However, the mocking smile from the other side, directed at his failed attempts, ignited a raging inferno within him - a surge of anger that took him to new heights.

Raising his training sword and pointing it menacingly at Mac, Victor roared with such force that he attracted the attention of all the students present in the Central Grounds. His words, full of contempt, cut through the air like a sharpened blade.

"You! Who allowed you, a worthless cultivator at the 3rd stage of Energy Core Formation, to be at the Central Sect Grounds? Or did you deliberately come here to catch a glimpse of the majestic sword techniques performed by the 'true' members of the Sect?"

Victor's eyes were full of hatred, and his mouth was full of venom.

"You must know that with your limited talent, you are nothing more than a nominal member of the Silver Blade Sect!"

Laughter, soft and harsh, rippled through the crowd that had gathered to witness the spectacle taking place on the Central Grounds. Conversations broke out among the intrigued spectators, their voices merging with the sound of the branches of the trees growing nearby.

"What, the 3rd stage of Energy Core Formation? Isn't it too old for this level of cultivation?"

"Are there really still disciples of our generation who are at the 3rd stage of Energy Core Formation?"

"Shut up! Don't you know who his grandfather is?" someone in the crowd whispered softly.

"What grandfather? Oh, yes! It's none other than Supreme Elder Stray's own grandson!" several surprised voices resonated in the crowd.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"Yes! So what? What does it matter? Even if his grandfather holds such a prestigious position, it doesn't change the fact that he is nothing more than a loser," one disciple in the crowd boldly stated, his voice filled with unshakable confidence.

Laughter erupted in a roaring torrent, cascading across the training ground, mirroring the mood of the crowd.

Unfazed by the noise, Mac stopped. Although his back was turned to Victor, the fiery glint in his eyes betrayed his growing anger. However, he remained silent, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.

Watching the riots unfold on the Central Ground, the Sect's adept who was charged with keeping order in the Sect turned to the senior adept with a note of concern in his voice.

" Senior, should we intervene?" the adept asked, his face full of seriousness and his eyes closely following the unfolding scene.

"Stay where you are and don't worry," the older adept ordered.

"What's happening now may be the beginning of a mess, but the rules of the Sect have not yet been broken. So sit back and watch. If the situation escalates, we will intervene immediately," the senior adept added, his voice sounding calm and detached.

"But Senior...", the adept pointed his palm at the Central Grounds where the noisy situation was taking place.

"We are not here to settle petty disputes. Our task is to ensure that the members of the Sect follow the Sect's rules. As long as there are no violations, you will sit and watch. Do you understand?"

The voice of the senior adept resonated with authority, leaving no room for further disagreement.

"Yes, Senior!", quickly replied the adherents, who were scanning the Sect's territory for any violations of the established rules.

The air crackled with tension in the centre of the busy Central Ground as Trevor, unable to contain his irritation, turned to Viktor, his voice echoing in the open space.

"We were just passing by the Central Square. Why are you burdened by our presence? What have we done to offend you?"

Trevor's voice was a mixture of surprise and indignation.

Victor, unable to contain his arrogance, replied, "What have you done? I'm just telling the truth!"

Although Mac was seething with anger, he made a conscious choice to ignore Victor's provocation, maintaining his composure, and continued to walk forward with measured steps.

Once again, Victor found himself being publicly ignored. It seemed that his loud words of provocation were not worth Mac's attention. In a last desperate attempt to draw attention to himself, he shouted after Mac's retreating figure.

"It's good that you realise you don't belong here! But know that I'm in a good mood today. Come to me, you fool, and Big Brother will give you some invaluable lessons in sword technique so that you don't have to strain your feeble mind anymore!"

Victor's words, laced with anger, were meant to hurt Mac's pride.

The crowd's attention was completely riveted on Mac.

Mac stopped.

"Yesterday he insulted me, today he insulted me, and now he's calling me a fool. Perhaps I should silence him by cutting out his bad tongue, or making a few gaps in his teeth to make it easier for him to chew!"

Mac's thoughts were seething with vengeful intent, his eyes narrowed, and a smile with a hint of savagery stretched across his face, allowing others to see two sharp fangs. At that moment, he looked like an angry tiger ready to pounce on his prey.

Mac turned around and headed towards Viktor.

Slowly, without rushing, he began to pull his training sword from his belt, ready to face Victor face to face.

The crowd was in excited anticipation of an unforgettable battle.

However, Trevor intervened, stopping Mac in his tracks.

"Are you really going to fight him? Don't you know he's in the 6th stage of Energy Core Formation? And even if you did decide to fight him, do you really think that the adepts who are keeping a close eye on the Central Grounds would allow you to do any harm to the Elder's son?" Trevor said reasonable things that quickly cooled Mac's anger. He took a measured breath. Mac stopped.

Although it may have seemed that Trevor believed in Mac's ability to win the fight, his real intention was that he had no desire to see his friend humiliated in public.

After all, how could Mac, with his current level of cultivation, defeat someone like Victor? Trevor had his doubts.

With a calm and focused gesture, Mac tucked his training sword from behind his belt.

"Not now, Victor. The time has not yet come. But it will come soon!"

In the midst of the tense atmosphere, Mac's calm and confident demeanour, combined with his cold, mysterious smile, caused Victor to feel inexplicably afraid. A feeling of anxiety gripped him, forcing him to speak hastily.

"Okay, not now. Then let's go to the 2nd stage of the Three Swords Competition in 3 months," Victor exclaimed, trying to change the situation.

Mac's sly smile only widened, giving off a hint of mischief.

Trevor, who had been watching the situation from the sidelines, ran over to Mac, trying to convince his friend not to agree. But his efforts were in vain.

"Deal! But let's add a condition that the loser of this duel must voluntarily leave the Sect on the same day," Mac suggested, his voice full of determination.

"Very good, you've come up with a good idea. After all, if I had won, what would I have gained besides a victory over a weakling, and now I have at least some interest in the upcoming battle! Well, that will happen if you manage to break through to the 4th stage of Energy Core Formation!" replied Victor, with a sinister smile.

"Don't worry about me, because I'll find a way. Instead, you should worry about your own skills, because with your current sword technique, even getting past Stage 1 of the selection process will be a challenge, let alone Stage 2!" Mac replied with cold confidence.

At that moment he thought, "In three months I will have read the Sutra completely and will definitely break through to the 4th stage. All that remains is to raise my mastery of sword techniques to the level of complete knowledge."

Instead, Victor thought, "Hahaha! This fool suggested 3 months. In that time, I will definitely master the sword techniques to a high level, and if I try hard enough, I will even break through to the 7th stage, and then victory is definitely in my hands!"

But none of them voiced their thoughts out loud.

The audience watched the argument escalate with interest, looking forward to the inevitable culmination - a tense battle and a shameful loss for one of the rivals.

However, there were also those in the crowd who looked at Mac with a cold, disdainful gaze. Claire was one of them.

Trevor put his hand on Mac's shoulder and spoke with desperation in his voice.

"Mac, please! Say no before it's too late!"

Mac threw Trevor's hand away, turned around and walked forward.

"It's already too late," Mac said in an icy tone as he headed for the library.

"I've already given my word, so that's the way it's going to be."

"No, you can still change your mind. If..." Trevor cut off his anxious plea, for he had heard how often Victor's opponents had suffered minor injuries during sparring and then mysteriously left the Sect.

Mac interjected, his voice devoid of emotion, "I agreed to the 'deal', and so I will confront him. That's the end of it."

Mac's cold aura caused the passing students he met to shiver involuntarily, and they instinctively parted to let him pass.

After walking a few more steps towards the library, Trevor finally caught up with Mac, but this time he said nothing, just walked silently beside him.

The puzzled audience could not understand Mac's confident behaviour. How could a student in stage 3 beat a student in stage 6? Some thought it was suicide. That was the majority opinion.

Claire and the other students in the crowd watched Mac's figure fade away. As the crowd dispersed, Claire lingered, focusing on Mac's retreating back. It was only when her friend called out to her that she tore her gaze away and they went about their business together.

Viktor, who saw this scene, clenched his fists even harder and promised himself.

"I'm going to crush this worthless worm!"

A fiery anger like molten magma radiated from his eyes.

Someone looking in from the outside, like Victor, might have thought that Claire's behaviour was motivated by sympathy for Mac. But in fact, her thoughts were focused on the behaviour of her father, the Right Vice-Chief of the Sect, Roger Dono.

Countless times, he held up Mac as a role model for Claire, praising the boy's abilities. Claire did not agree with this.

In her opinion, he could only be better than her at memorising the books of the Sect's library, and only if he tried hard. Claire could not understand what made Mac so exceptional that he deserved her father's attention. After all, if you analyse this situation alone, you can see how arrogant, stupid and weak-minded he is.

Not far from the lively Central Square, an elderly man sat on the soft, sun-warmed grass, his white beard moving in waves in the gentle breeze. He was clutching a battered book.

Pausing his reading, his gaze moved from the pages to the commotion unfolding on the training ground. Sadness clouded his eyes as he watched the children engaged in an argument, their voices carrying the weight of unresolved conflicts. A clear question formed in his thoughtful mind that could not wait to be answered.

"Have you never learnt to get along with your peers?" he wondered, and his voice turned into a whisper carried by the breeze. He absentmindedly scratched his temple, deep in thought.

"Perhaps the last time you truly enjoyed the joy of friendship was with that little girl you used to play with for days on end when we first joined the Sect. Even with this Trevor, your connection seems like a distant star compared to what you had with her. But what was her name, and most importantly, where did she disappear to?"

The man's wrinkled eyebrows drew together, revealing a mixture of nostalgia, anxiety, and heavy thought. He wanted to unravel the threads of the past, to understand the intricacies of these friendships that had slipped through the fingers of time.

And no matter how much he thought, he couldn't find the answer, but there was one person who knew exactly what the answer was.

That person was Mac.