Zack smirked at the dumbfounded man-child but before he could deliver another witty quip, a golden dome blinked into existence around the Fiery Mist Sect. The Aegis Bastion Formation had finally activated, encasing the sect grounds in an impenetrable barrier.

Orion gaped at the sudden obstacle, his remaining hand clenching into a fist. He glared murderously at Zack.

"You...you think this will stop me?" he snarled, spit flying from his lips. "I was about to unleash my full fury and tear you limb from limb!"

Full fury? Zack raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? By all means, don't let this flimsy barrier stop you. I'm sure it'll shatter like glass against your mighty...um, remaining arm."

Orion's face turned an interesting shade of purple. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. No words came out, just an incomprehensible sputtering of rage.

The things these old monsters will do to save face, Zack mused, shaking his head. It would be funny if it wasn't so sad.

"How about this," Zack said, his tone turning serious. "The Fiery Mist Sect is under my protection now. Fly on back to your king and give him a message from me: back off. This isn't his playground anymore."

Orion looked like he'd swallowed a live toad. "You...you upstart! The King will never stand for this!"

"Then I suggest you get very good at standing. On one leg." Zack wiggled his pinkie in the direction of Orion's stump and then his leg.

Not wanting to lose another limb, Orion spun in the air and shot off. Zack watched him go, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"Senior Alfie, that was incredible!"

Zack turned to see Finick staring at him, eyes shining with something uncomfortably close to worship. The other elders and disciples were in a similar state, alternating between gaping at Zack and cheering at Orion's retreat.

"Truly, Senior Alfie is invincible!"

"The Fiery Mist Sect is saved!"

"We'll never have to bow to the Moon God Sect again!"

Zack waved a hand, "Yes, yes, I'm amazing, I know. But this is just the beginning. The king won’t give up so easily, mark my words."

He turned to Finick. "Double the patrols, fortify the defences. I want this place locked up tighter than your great aunt's-" He paused, remembering his audience. "...coin purse."

Finick nodded vigorously. "Yes, Senior! Right away!" He scurried off, barking orders at the disciples.

Watching the disciples scrambling to follow orders, Zack allowed himself a small chuckle. The Moon God Sect would certainly come for revenge, but for now, he would enjoy this little victory.

And who knows? Maybe next time, he'd take more than just an arm.

***

A few days later, Zack sat on his throne, his chin resting on his hand as he stared moodily off into space. There had been no further word from the Moon God Sect. It seemed they were content to bide their time, licking their wounds in silence.

For now, Zack thought darkly. But how long will that last?

He knew the Moon God Sect's king wasn't the type to let an insult slide. Sooner or later, he'd make his move. And when he did...

Zack sighed, drumming his fingers on the armrest. I need intel, he mused. Some way to keep tabs on those old monsters, figure out what they're planning.

A sudden knock at the door startled him out of his brooding. Zack quickly straightened up to look sage-like.

"Enter," he called out.

Finick shuffled in, looking equal parts nervous and excited. "Senior Alfie, there's been some news regarding what you instructed us to look for."

Zack leaned forward, his interest piqued. He had ordered his new minions to be on the lookout for any signs of Outsiders - people with strange accents or mannerisms that didn't fit the norm for the Northern Realm. Not to engage them, but to report back immediately.

"Oh? And what did you find?" Zack asked.

"Our scouts have returned with news of an outsider in the northern city of Frostholm. A young man, by all accounts. And his speech... Well..."

Zack cocked an eyebrow. "His speech?"

"They say he talks like his mouth is full of porridge," Finick blurted out. "All slurred and strange, like nothing they've ever heard before."

Zack had to fight the urge to slap his forehead. Yeah, that sounds like a mainlander, alright.

Anyone from beyond the Sealed Realm were referred to as outsiders or mainlanders. He recalled his own mainlander "accent," a clumsy slurring of syllables that made him sound like a brain-damaged duck to the inhabitants of the Sealed Realm. It was only through Hallibur's memories that he'd managed to pick up the proper dialect of this world.

Good thing too, Zack mused. Otherwise I'd be drawing just as much attention as this poor sap.

He plastered on a thoughtful look, "Yes, those outsiders do have some peculiar dialects. Good catch."

Finick leaned in, lowering his voice. "Word is, the Moon God Sect has taken an interest in this outsider. They're sending a team to 'collect' him as we speak. Led by an Origin Realm elder, no less."

"An Origin Realm expert? To snatch up some random outsider?"

He stroked his chin thoughtfully. So, it’s true, they really do take hunting outsiders seriously…I wonder which disciple it is…could it be someone from the Black Rose Sect?

Zack had little interest in aiding anyone from an enemy sect but if it was someone from his own sect, one of his own disciples, then he wouldn’t hesitate to step in and help. He rose from his throne, "You've done well to bring me this information, Finick. I'll handle it from here."

Finick bowed again, even lower this time. "Of course, senior. I live to serve."

“Live to serve…” Zack thought with a raised eyebrow. Guess those "How to Grovel 101" lessons are paying off already.

As the young sect master scurried out, Zack summoned his invisibility cloak with a flick of his wrist. He draped the fabric over his shoulders, feeling the familiar tingle as it settled into place.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Time to play the mysterious stranger, he thought with a grin as he disappeared from sight, slipping out of the sect like a ghost in the shadows.

***

Misery. That was the only word to describe Lucious's experience since entering this wretched Sealed Realm. When he exited the portal, he had emerged in the middle of a frozen wasteland, right in the eye of a snowstorm.

It had taken days of travel just to reach the first signs of civilization - a small, ramshackle village huddled at the base of an icy mountain.

Lucious had tried to keep a low profile, speaking as little as possible to avoid drawing attention to his foreign accent and mannerisms. He already knew that the natives of this realm spoke a different dialect, and even the slightest slip could expose him as an outsider.

That would be an unacceptable risk. He had already risked drawing attention by killing a traveller and stealing their clothing just to blend in. The rough furs and sturdy boots were a far cry from his usual silk robes, but he had to make do.

The only bright spot so far had been his successful cultivation breakthrough. He had been a monster in his own realm at the Peak Stage of Core Formation. But now...

Lucious closed his eyes, sensing the Nascent Soul that pulsed within him. The manifestation of his cultivation base, the true mark of an elite expert. It opened its eyes, and he felt a surge of power rush through his body.

A smile tugged at his lips, but it quickly faded. He had foolishly assumed that reaching Nascent Soul would allow him to dominate anyone in this Sealed Realm, to crush all opposition as long as it wasn’t another Legacy Disciple.

But as soon as he had broken through, he sensed several powerful auras fixate on him like hawks spotting a rabbit. Most were clearly in the Origin Realm, far beyond his current level. And one... one might have even been an Ascendant, an existence at the level of his own Sect Master.

Lucious shook his head. If there truly was an Ascendant here, then drawing attention would be suicidal. No, he would need to rely on his true talent - scheming, manipulating from the shadows.

He trudged onwards into the village, shivering despite his thick cloak and his cultivation base to shield him. A stall caught his eye - a vendor selling meat buns, the savoury aroma drifted towards him.

Lucious's stomach rumbled. When was the last time I ate? He couldn't actually remember. Cultivation breakthroughs had a way of making one forget mundane concerns. As a Nascent Soul cultivator, he had no real need for food but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t indulge every now and then.

He approached the stall, fishing in his pocket for the unfamiliar currency. The shopkeeper, an old man, squinted at him suspiciously.

"Haven't seen you around before," he said gruffly. "You a traveller?"

Lucious nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He pointed at the buns and held out a handful of coins.

The old man harrumphed but took the money and passed him a greasy bundle. "Enjoy," he muttered.

Lucious retreated to the edge of the square, tearing into the food with a ferocity that he assumed beggars possessed. As a Senior Brother and Legacy Disciple, he usually had to maintain an air of unfathomable superiority, but now, he was playing the role of a peasant.

He was so focused on portraying the stereotypical image of a starving beggar that he almost missed the figure tailing him from the shadows.

Almost.

Pausing mid-bite, Lucious extended his senses. Sure enough, someone was following him, their cultivation base flickering at the Mid Core Formation stage. They were clearly trying to mask their presence, but to a newly minted Nascent Soul expert like Lucious, they might as well have been waving a flag and shouting.

Outwardly, Lucious showed no sign of noticing his stalker. He continued to eat, strolling casually through the village as if he didn't have a care in the world. The figure shadowed him from a distance, always staying just out of easy detection range for an average cultivator.

But Lucious was far from average. He would deal with this little problem swiftly and decisively.

He turned down a narrow alley between two ramshackle huts, a dead end hidden from prying eyes. The moment his tail stepped around the corner, Lucious struck.

His Nascent Soul surged forth, a tsunami of power crashing into the Core Formation cultivator before they could even react. Lucious's palm slammed into the man's chest, sending him flying back into the alley wall with a sickening crunch.

It was over in an instant. The man crumpled to the ground, blood trickling from his mouth and nose. His eyes were wide and glassy with shock, the light fading from them rapidly.

Lucious knelt beside the corpse, riffling through his robes until he found what he was looking for: a communication talisman, it had an intricate sigil depicting a crescent moon cradling a radiant pearl.

So, his arrival had been noticed, and he was being watched. That changed things.

The emblem of the Moon God Sect?

Before entering the Sealed Realm, he had read on the known powerhouses. The latest information of the Moon God Sect implied that their Sect Master, or better known as King, was an Early Origin Realm cultivator.

But after so many years, I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s changed.

The talisman flared with light, likely projecting the scene back to the sect.

Lucious cursed under his breath and crushed the talisman in his fist, cutting of the transmission. He had to move, now, before more of them came.

He stood, glancing back at the village square where a crowd was starting to gather, drawn by the commotion. They pointed at him, whispering frantically.

"Murderer!" one woman cried. "Someone call the guards!"

“Tsk,” Lucious sighed. So much for stealth. It seems his welcome had just run out.

He turned on his heel and sprinted out of the village, not bothering to look back as the shouts and alarms rose behind him. He had to find somewhere to lay low and plan his next move.

Or else he'd be dead before he ever got a chance to scheme at all.