Muro’s eyes drifted across the city.

If he merely raised his hand, he could summon a Totem to his side. How many others could say the same? Not even his sisters had the privilege.

He had a beast intent jade slip in his storage pouch. All he had to do was take it out, and he could bathe his mind in the beast intent of a Totem. Or, if he wished, with a little more effort he could arrange for a direct impartation.

With all the means before him, he was sure that he would be able to condense a Complete Spirit. Even if he fell short, there would be Soul Infusion Elixirs to bolster it before his Spirit Feeding.

To protect himself, he was wearing multiple clan artifacts from fallen Family Totems.

Was this really the privilege of an untalented boy in the Heart Refining Realm? To be groomed to lead a Totem Family, or perhaps, if the heavens allowed it, an Archon Family?

Was the world so strange?

What would have happened if he had said no?

Muro sensed that Yoren was looking at him. He moved away from the open wall in one graceful movement without disturbing the tea-tray in his hand.

“What were you looking at?”

Muro shook his head slightly in response.

“Nothing, just the city outline.”

Yoren was viciously handsome, an Inner Sentinel of the sect. He had only left the sect for a year, and yet he looked perfectly at home in the secular manor of his family, a king in a house of peasants.

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He was dressed in regal attire. His robes were purple, with depictions of clouds and phoenixes emblazoned on his sleeves. Even though he was at the Awakening Stage of Nascent Spirit, his presence was minimal, the mark of genius.

“It's a sprawl of weaklings, all entangled in a complex web of relationships, hopes and dreams. Does it make you miss the simplicity of the Undying City? Or do you wonder how easy it would be to dominate the locals? Everyone has a different reaction.”

“No, it just feels meaningless.”

“Rest assured, I can see why you have little desire to integrate yourself. After all, to them, we are immortals. To us, they are ants.”

Yoren gave a slight, ethereal smile from his throne-like chair and beckoned with his hand.

Muro stepped forward. He could see echoes of tantalizing illusions dancing around in Yoren’s eyes.

The Inner Sentinel was musing to himself over the mysteries of life.

He could not quite believe that he was in the same room as the future head of the Seaborn Family.

An ordinary talent like Muro should never have been noticed. He had passed thirty and still had not birthed his Spirit, yet, because he had a good brother, he had become more important in the Wraithborn influence than all of the true Cloudborn Family put together.

He had even been made an Outer Sentinel by the sect, demonstrating how flexible the rules truly were.

Yoren could not help but think about how similar the brothers looked. Apart from their eyes, their faces were nearly identical, and yet, the shape of the face - the sharp eyebrows and angular features - somehow only served to further the charm of one and the uncertain air of the other.

His eyes slid down Muro’s arm to where the Wave Pulse Bangle, the prized clan artifact of the Seaborn, was wrapped around his wrist. With it, even a Heart Refining Expert could level a small building, and it was not the only clan artifact in his possession.

Who knew what other treasures were hidden in his storage pouch?

Meanwhile, Yoren had only been given a few of his family’s spirit artifacts.

It was all a farce.

Why do I not have such a good brother? Yoren wondered to himself.