Nestled amidst lush green hills, a day’s journey away from the sect, was Willowbrook village. A charming haven for the weary traveler, yet an easy target for bandits, the latter being the reason Slifer had chosen the location for this little trip of his.
As they entered the village, Fenlock turned to Slifer, a look of curiosity etched on his face. "Master, why have we traveled to this place?"
With a semblance of profundity, Slifer replied, “The journey to enlightenment is diverse, young Fenlock. The Dao beckons us to gain experience from every corner of life.” He paused, letting his eyes scan the villagers working away, “Many cultivators overlook the impoverished and the weak, yet, it is they who possess the mightiest of wills.”
Yet, his real intentions were far from noble. When the bandits attack, eliminating a few Foundation Establishment realm bandits will not only earn me credits for my breakthrough but also for saving a village. Two birds, one stone, he smiled.
Slifer had ensured through Morvran that these bandits were not backed by some aged powerful cultivator. The last thing I need is an irate grandpa cultivator appearing out of thin air, Slifer shuddered at the classic xianxia trope.
Walking deeper into the village, the trio felt numerous eyes fall on them. The villagers with their sun-beaten faces and wary eyes, observed them with a mix of curiosity and dread. The emblem on their robes — the Black Heart Rose — was well-known in the region and not for the best reasons.
An elderly man with a limp, who Slifer assumed to be the village elder, approached them. His frail frame trembled slightly as he coughed into his wrinkled hands before introducing himself, “I am Baelin, the leader of this humble abode. How... how may this poor old man assist the esteemed guests?”
Caelum and Fenlock exchanged glances. Both were as clueless as the other. Their eyes turned to Slifer, awaiting an explanation.
With a gentle smile, Slifer addressed the village leader, “We have simply come for my disciples to gain some experience from this village. There is no cause for concern.”
Suddenly, a young man, tall and robust with sharp features and green piercing eyes, stepped forward, his stride carrying an air of righteousness. His jet-black hair flowed with the wind, and his eyes held a fierce determination.
Insight!
Name N/A Realm Early Foundation Establishment Known Techniques N/A Known Affiliations Willowbrook Village - Righteous Disposition N/A
Ah, the brave, outspoken, and possibly not-too-bright hero archetype, Slifer sighed.
The young man chuckled disdainfully, “A demonic cultivator instructing his disciples in a secluded village like this? Doesn’t exactly instill confidence within us.”
Caelum's gaze grew icy. He could hardly believe that a mere Foundation Establishment cultivator would have the audacity to insult his master. Advancing a step, he released his overwhelming Core Formation aura, “If you’re suggesting that my master has ill intentions toward this village, know that had he desired, everyone here would have been long dead.”
The pressure of the Core Formation aura bore down on the young man, making his legs tremble, but he stood his ground. With great effort, he released his Foundation Establishment aura, looking unflinchingly into Caelum's eyes,
Sensing the rising tension, the village leader immediately intervened. “Ziven!” he scolded the young man. “Show respect to our esteemed guests!”
Slowly, Ziven lowered his head, offering an apology, yet the fire in his eyes remained unquenched.
Slifer, observing this, couldn’t help but crack a small smile. Yet, he wondered if retreat was the better choice to avoid entangling with a potential protagonist character, he had personally experienced their absurd luck work for him and he certainly did not want to be on the receiving end.
No… we're here for the bandits, not a confrontation with a budding hero. As long as the disciples don’t do anything dumb, it shouldn’t be an issue.
Waving his hand slightly, Slifer signaled Caelum to stand down. Immediately, Caelum suppressed his aura, stepped back, and offered a deferential bow to Slifer.
Turning to the gathered villagers, Slifer spoke up, “I’ve heard the Shadow Veil Bandits have been tormenting this village lately. I thought it would be a valuable lesson for my disciples to assist in this situation.”
Hearing Slifer’s reply, the village elder's face twisted into a hesitant expression. The notion of demonic cultivators offering aid was a challenging concept to accept, however, he didn’t have much of a choice, Willowbrook village had no power to refuse the Black Rose Sect.
Huffing, the young man, Ziven, walked away with heavy steps. "I'd rather face death than take assistance from the likes of demonic cultivators!" he declared, his voice filled with anger and disdain.
Immediately, the village leader fell into a begging posture, deeply apologetic. “Forgive young Ziven’s outburst,” he trembled as he spoke. “His family was slaughtered by demonic cultivators, their souls devoured before his very eyes.”
Slifer’s nod was almost imperceptible. A tragic backstory, check. Heroic demeanor, check. Foolish enough to challenge forces beyond comprehension, check. He mentally ticked off the checklist that screamed of a protagonist's traits.
The thought of taking the young lad as a disciple crossed Slifer’s mind. Although his character seemed a bit abrasive, Slifer believed he could mold him into something more…tolerable. But as if reading his mind, a System Notification appeared before him:
Ding! Maximum Disciple Capacity Reached No More Disciples Can Be Accepted
Slifer sighed softly, he was aware of the limit, but he had held a slender hope that the System might carve out an exception for a potential protagonist. His eyes roamed over the retreating figure of Ziven and then back to the elder still holding a humble bow.
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“I understand the grudges held by the young man; it is the tragic reality of the cultivation world. Nevertheless, our intention here is genuine, village elder.”
Baelin, now slowly regaining his composure, nodded, though the uncertainty in his eyes was hard to miss.
Regardless, the village elder led them towards his humble abode.
When they arrived, Baelin turned to Slifer and mentioned, "The bandits haven't struck for several moons now."
Slifer nodded as he pondered on his words. If they haven’t attacked for months, it’s very likely they’ll strike soon. The sooner I can end this, the quicker I can return to the sect's security.
The elder’s home was modest, bearing the true essence of rural life. Earthen walls, wooden beams, and a low-hanging roof made from thick straw. The center of the main room had a rustic wooden table surrounded by stools.
The elder quickly ushered Slifer to the seat of honor, a slightly elevated, wooden chair.
As Slifer seated himself, a "lavish" feast was presented before him. The village, in their undeniable generosity – or perhaps, sheer terror of angering a demonic cultivator – had sacrificed their precious livestock.
As he picked at the humble meat dish, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. These folks were living on a thread, yet here they were, offering what little they had to please him.
It’s only fair to compensate them for their loss before we leave, he thought, nibbling at a piece of the rough-cut meat that tasted of genuine struggle and survival. A brief pause later, a memory of his own lack of wealth dawned on him, bringing a grimace to his face. Oh, right... my storage ring resembles a barren wasteland.
His eyes darted towards Fenlock, who was surveying the room with a detached look. I’m sure Fenlock could spare a few spirit stones, a smirk appeared on his face once again. That would save him from squandering them on that Junior Sister he’s been swooning over lately.
As Slifer ate, he relished every bite, thinking, For all the lavish feasts back at the sect, there's something comforting about this simple homemade fare.
Lost in his thoughts, he failed to notice the incredulous stares he was receiving from Fenlock, Caelum, and the village elder, as he devoured the meal like a starved beast.
Is this really an Elder from the Black Rose Sect? Baelin thought.
After a short while, Fenlock stiffened, his attention snapped towards the door. Bandits! But as his gaze shifted to his still-feasting master, he decided to keep silent. If I sensed them just now, Master must have detected them long ago.
Suddenly, a loud crash interrupted Slifer’s gluttonous feast. The wooden door burst open as a battered figure slammed into Slifer's table, sending food and dishes flying. Gravy dripped from shattered bowls and Slifer’s plate of meat lay ruined amidst the debris.
No, not my food, Slifer thought mournfully. He had always held a deep-seated belief, bordering on a sacred rule, that no morsel of food should ever meet an unjust end, especially not before meeting the end of his chopsticks.
Slifer's eyes narrowed as they landed on the intruder: it was Ziven, battered, his clothes torn, and bruises covering his body. He looked up at Slifer, pain evident in his eyes. His lips parted, trying to relay a message, but before any words could emerge, he succumbed to unconsciousness.
What kind of protagonist loses to a mere bandit? he thought. He paused, Right, their early years usually consist of regular public humiliations. How typical.
"The villagers!" cried the village elder, fear replacing the initial shock as he darted outside.
Wiping the food stains from his robes, Slifer sighed, "It wasn't personal before, but now," he glared at the splintered door, "now it's very personal."
The bandits had just made this a vendetta by meddling with a cardinal sin – ruining his meal.
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Slifer and his disciples emerged from the house, their eyes scanning the chaotic scene before them, they found the cries of the frightened mixed with the defiant shouts of men who were ready to die to protect their homes. These brave men brandished whatever weaponry they could muster - be it a rusty sword, a worn-out axe, or even farming tools.
Slifer observed the ragtag assembly of fighters. Most were mere Qi Refining cultivators with just a handful at the Foundation Establishment level.
But what caught Slifer’s eye was the village elder. The previously humble and weak aura that had surrounded him had vanished. With a steely resolve evident in his eyes, he released an aura that was at the peak of Foundation Establishment. Without a second's hesitation, he charged towards a sinister-looking figure, presumably the bandit leader.
It's always the old men to be wary of, Slifer mused, a common notion in a world where survival was the supreme law.
Caelum's hand tightened on the hilt of his sword as he watched the bandits wreak havoc on the village. He turned to Slifer; the question evident in his eyes. "Master, should we engage?"
Fenlock too seemed eager to join the fray, but Slifer hesitated. He saw the various techniques being thrown around on the battlefield, some of which were potent enough to one-shot a Qi Refining cultivator like himself. I can't afford to let them leave my side, he decided, even for a split second.
Donning a sage-like demeanor, Slifer replied with an excuse he had prepared, “We can easily eliminate these bandits within a few breaths, but our goal here transcends mere fighting. It's about gaining enlightenment through restraint.”
Fenlock tilted his head, confusion evident. "How do we achieve that, Master?"
Slifer flashed a knowing smile. "By challenging ourselves against our foes, restricting our cultivation as we do so. Remain close and observe."
Fenlock's eyes widened at the prospect of his master joining the battle, unlike the other disciples, he had never seen his master fight before.
Forsaking the ego to hone the blade. Brilliant. Caelum's eyes sparkled with understanding.
Slifer ignored his disciples as he assessed the battleground, his gaze landed on a particular bandit, smirking arrogantly to himself. It was clear to Slifer that this was the ruffian responsible for Ziven's sorry state – and more importantly the destruction of his meal.
Insight!
Name N/A Realm Early Foundation Establishment Known Techniques N/A Known Affiliations Affiliation: Shadow Veil Bandits - Demonic Disposition N/A
Early Foundation Establishment? Perfect!
Ding! Breakthrough Requirements Appropriate Target Detected Would You Like To Issue A Challenge?
Slifer's lips curved in a predatory grin. "Challenge," he murmured.
Challenge Accepted Begin
Upon seeing the prompt from the System, a smirk graced Slifer’s face. He was not foolish enough to announce his presence to all. As long as the System viewed it as a challenge, that was enough. He knew that to kill a Foundation Establishment cultivator, there could be no playing around, he needed to end the battle with a single strike.
With a fluid motion, Slifer unsheathed his sword, its blade gleaming ominously under the flickering flames that had caught onto some nearby huts. He then closed his eyes briefly and activated a skill – the Sunrise Slash.
When his eyes snapped open, they gleamed with a brilliant golden hue.
"Consider this payback for a meal so rudely interrupted," Slifer whispered as he vanished into thin air, leaving only a fleeting trace of golden light behind.
"This... this is my technique..." Caelum's eyes widened in disbelief.
Shadowstep Slash
Despite some slight differences, to the creator of the technique, the sequence was unmistakable.
"How can Master use it?" Caelum was certain that his master had only seen him perform the technique once.
I-Is this the comprehension of an Ascendant Realm expert?