Chapter 24

Inside the Alexandrian Pavilion filled with countless martial skill tomes, pawns of varying experiences shuffled about and blurred amidst its dimly lit aisles; all of them searching for their rightful skills. Some of them had expressions of doubt, others stoic, some helpless while another is greedy.

One thing they all had in common was an expression of indecisiveness, there were too many options to pick yet they could only pick one, such was the circumstances of the majority, however, there were some with only a handful of choices to pick from and 621 was undoubtedly part of this fold.

Before him lay seven distinct volumes, each one bound in a rich black leather and adorned with intricate metallic embellishments. With steady hands, he reached out and selected the first book, its cover cool to the touch beneath his small fingertips. The title gleamed in gold lettering: "Ironclad Resilience."

Opening the book, 621 found himself drawn into a world of shimmering armour and impenetrable defence. The pages were filled with vivid descriptions of mystical metal forged into formidable barriers, protecting their wielders from harm. He could almost feel the weight of the armour pressing against his skin, its reassuring presence a shield against the uncertainties of battle.

Reluctantly tearing his gaze away, he set the first book aside and reached for the next. This one bore the title "Aurum Manipulation," and as he turned its pages, he was transported into a realm of shimmering metal and boundless potential. With each passing moment, he felt the stirrings of power within him, it was a familiar image of a connection; the promise of command over all things metallic echoing in his mind.

Next, 621 opened the book labelled "Tempered Blade," once he did so, he was immediately drawn into a world of honed edges and unyielding steel. The pages were filled with intricate diagrams depicting weapons imbued with raw power and unbreakable resolve. With each turn of the page, he could almost imagine the weight of a well-forged blade in his hand, its edge keen and true, ready to cleave through any obstacle in his path.

Turning his attention to another book, "Resonant Echo," 621 found himself entranced by the promise of sound and metal. The pages were alive with pulsing energy, vibrating with the unseen sound of the world around him. With each word he read, he felt a deep connection to the very frequency of metal, the pages described the ability to detect even the faintest of metallic vibrations. It had the purpose of detection via metallic vibrations.

Opening the book titled "Razorwind Rend," 621 was greeted by an avid description of motion and fury. The pages seemed to come alive with images of metallic blades slicing through the air, leaving trails of shimmering metal in their wake. With each description, he could almost hear the howl of the wind and steel. It was a promise of a dance of death and destruction, beautiful in its brutality and exhilarating in its intensity.

As he turned to the book labeled "Reflective Mirage," 621 found himself transported into an imaginary world of illusion and deception. The pages were detailed with images of shimmering clones, each one a mirror image of the last. With each description, he could almost feel the rush of energy as the illusions sprang to life, dancing and twirling in a mesmerizing display of light and shadow. It was a tantalizing glimpse into the art of misdirection, promising endless possibilities for those who dared to master its secrets.

Closing the book, 621 finally reached for the last book on the shelf titled, "Chain of Command." The pages were filled with images of twisting metal, each chain a testament to the power of control and manipulation. With each description, he could almost feel the weight of the chains in his hands, their links intertwining to form a web of command and authority. It was an art of maiming and imprisonment.

As 621 closed the final book, a sense of understanding and excitement surged within him, mingling with the anticipation of the choices yet to be made. But his reverie was abruptly shattered by the sudden sound of the old grandma's voice echoing through the pavilion. Her words cut through the air like a clarion call, commanding attention from all who heard her.

“Time is almost up, you have at most half an incense stick left, make your decisions now.”

The atmosphere in the pavilion shifted palpably as the announcement reverberated off the walls, causing a ripple of urgency to spread through the gathered pawns. The authority in her voice was unmistakable, her frail yet oddly clear tone carrying a substantial weight that belied her appearance.

For 621, the effect was immediate. His muscles tensed involuntarily as he instinctively began to calculate the remaining time and weigh his options. But amidst his calculations, a flicker of disappointment ignited within him.

He had hoped for more time—time to absorb the contents of each book, a chance to memorize their secrets and unlock each of their mysteries. The sudden imposition of a time limit gnawed at him, threatening to overshadow the excitement of his recent discoveries.

With a sense of regret, he realized that he would not have the luxury of poring over the pages, committing each word to memory. Instead, he would have to rely on his instincts and intuition, trusting that he had gleaned enough from his brief perusal to make an informed decision.

Despite his disappointment, 621 dared not disrespect the old grandma. He knew better than to cross her, especially in her own domain. And so, with a sigh of resignation, he squared his shoulders and focused his thoughts.

As the seconds ticked away, 621's mind raced with deliberations of strategy and calculation. He mentally categorized each of the seven books based on their perceived utility and relevance to his own abilities and preferences.

Ironclad Resilience stood out as a clear choice for defense, while Razorwind Rend and Tempered Blade beckoned with their promise of offensive prowess.

The trio of Resonant Echo, Reflective Mirage, and Chain of Command hinted at utility and versatility, offering a range of strategic options. And then there was Aurum Manipulation, a skill with a mysterious allure that defied easy categorization.

In truth, 621 prioritised self-preservation above everything so in theory, the book titled Ironclad Resilience should be his best bet but something urged him to reconsider.

Despite his rational assessment of the situation, 621 found himself inexplicably drawn to Aurum Manipulation.

There was something about the description of its pages, something that resonated with his past experiences during the ceremony earlier. Memories stirred within him, memories of a connection to the metals that had lingered long after the ceremony had ended. It was as if the book called out to him, urging him to explore its secrets and unlock its potential.

Therefore, with a sense of inevitability, 621 reached out and took the book in his hands, feeling its weight and texture beneath his fingertips. He turned away from the other books and began to make his way towards the old guardian.

621 approached her with measured steps and presented the chosen martial skill book with a stoic expression, though a flicker of uncertainty danced in his eyes.

The old woman's cold gaze pierced through him, her lips twisting into a disdainful sneer. "Choosing the path of metal, are we?" she remarked, her voice dripping with icy indifference.

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621 nodded, his voice devoid of emotion. "Yes," he replied curtly, his gaze unwavering.

A faint smirk tugged at the corners of the old woman's lips, though her eyes remained icy. "That book is both a blessing and a curse," she remarked cryptically, her words laced with a sinister undertone.

621 narrowed his eyes, sensing there was more to her words than met the eye. "What do you mean?" he demanded, his voice betraying none of the interest stirring within him.

But the old woman only chuckled darkly, her laughter echoing through the pavilion like the tolling of a funeral bell.

"Mysteries are meant to be unraveled, pawn," she replied, her tone as cold and unforgiving as the grave.

Before he could inquire further, the old woman's demeanor shifted abruptly. "And which courtyard do you belong to?" she asked, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

"Courtyard 11," 621 replied evenly, his jaw set in a firm line.

With a wave of her hand, she summoned a swirling vortex of shadowy energy, enveloping him in its dark embrace. Before he could protest, he felt himself being whisked away from the pavilion, his body distorting and shifting in mysterious ways as his entire being vanished from the spot; his sight encapsulated by a whirling darkness.

As the darkness receded, 621 suddenly found himself standing at the entrance of Courtyard 11, the echoes of the old woman's cryptic words still ringing in his ears as he glanced at the black leather book in his hands, its gold lettering shimmering in the daylight.

621 stared at it briefly before storing it safely within his dimensional bag as he stepped ahead.

However, before he could even make another step, he was suddenly confronted by the familiar inexplicable phenomenon. A swirling vortex of shadowy energy materialized before him, giving birth to a figure that emerged from its dark embrace with an otherworldly grace.

It was 666, her youthful and delicate appearance standing in stark contrast to the ominous courtyard that lay ahead.

With a fluid motion, she turned her head to the side giving him a nonchalant glance before her lips curled into an innocent but unnervingly eerie smile.

621 maintained a stoic indifference to her smile but mentally he regarded her with extreme caution, his carefree exterior betraying none of the alarms churning within him.

Despite her seemingly harmless demeanor, 621 knew better than to let his guard down around 666. There was something about her, an aura of danger that clung to her like a shadow, that had always set his instincts on edge.

And now, more than ever, he felt a sense of unease creeping over him as he watched her joyfully enter the courtyard, paying him no more attention.

It wasn't just her appearance that put him on edge, though. 666 was now considered to be a “genius” among their ranks, possessing not one, but two rare spiritual roots—an unprecedented feat that marked her as a force to be reckoned with.

The sudden thought of what book she may have chosen was a curious mystery, it stirred some sense of added peculiarity around her already enigmatic existence.

But he pushed the thought aside, knowing that dwelling on it would only distract him from the task at hand. And so, with a firm resolve, he stepped towards the central building, paying little attention to the usual hostile gaze that welcomed him home.

He took a quick glance at the buzzing bloody grounds and found that 419 was no longer duelling, her crude presence was nowhere to be seen. A fleeting thought followed his gaze wondering if she had lost the duel, but he quickly dismissed the thought with a snort as he entered the chilly abode of the handler.

…

In the dimly lit chamber, 621 knelt before his handler, his gaze steady as he awaited instruction. The handler's eyes remained closed, shrouding the room in an air of anticipation until, with a suddenness that caught 621 off guard, the handler's eyes snapped open, revealing brilliant yellow irises that seemed to pierce through the very essence of his being.

The handler's monotone voice rang out, its tone carrying an undercurrent of both authority and intrigue.

"Your return is timely. I trust your endeavours have been fruitful?"

621 inclined his head respectfully. "Yes.”

There was a brief pause as the handler assessed 621 with his piercing gaze, seeming to penetrate beyond the surface to scrutinize the very core of his being.

"And your spiritual root," the handler continued, his tone betraying a hint of curiosity, "Metal, such a fascinating affinity."

621's brow furrowed imperceptibly at the handler's knowledge, but he kept his expression carefully neutral. "Yes, My spiritual root is indeed as such."

A faint smile ghosted across the handler's lips, though his eyes remained inscrutable.

As if sensing 621's silent query, the handler reached out with a languid gesture, summoning forth a book from the shadows. Its emerald leather cover stood out starkly against the subdued lighting of the chamber as the handler directed it towards 621.

Taking the book into his hands, 621 examined it closely, noting the intricate lettering adorning the front cover: "Veiled Serpent Path: Volume 2."

Recognition flickered in his eyes as he recalled the significance of the title—a unique cultivation technique practiced by all members of the Order of Shadows. Each volume of the series represented a distinct stage of cultivation, with the second volume likely detailing the Qi Condensation realm, a crucial step in his own journey towards mastery.

"This is..." 621 began, his voice trailing off as he met the handler's gaze once more.

"The next step," the handler replied, his voice tinged with a sense of finality.

Memories stirred within his mind, recalling the journey that had led him to this moment. He remembered the first volume of the Veiled Serpent Path, a prized possession he had obtained through rigorous training and unwavering dedication paving his way through the Mortal Transformation realm.

“As a token of recognition, I grant you the opportunity to ask me a single question”, the handler then intoned forcing 621 to pay immediate attention.

With careful consideration, 621 formulated his query, selecting a question that aimed to help in his cultivation.

"How can I progress through the Qi Condensation realm?" he finally asked.

As he voiced his question, the air seemed to thicken with anticipation, the handler's gaze unwavering as if he had expected such a question from him. He absorbed the inquiry with a keen insight before replying with an earthly implication.

“The Qi Condensation realm is a crucial stage on the path of cultivation. To advance, you must focus on the meridians."

When the handler responded, his words were measured, each syllable carrying the weight of profound wisdom. His tone held a hint of enigma, as if veiled in layers of cryptic meaning that tantalized the mind with elusive truths.

621 listened intently, absorbing the handler's words with a peculiar thought, "Meridians?"

"The meridians are not to be underestimated, pawn," the handler's voice rang out, its timbre carrying a weight of authority.

"They are the very foundations upon which a cultivator's mastery over Qi is built. Both the quality and quantity of your meridians are crucial factors in your progression through the realms of cultivation."

621 nodded slowly, his brow furrowed in concentration as he processed the significance of the handler's words. He had always understood the importance of meridians, but the handler's explanation shed new light on their profound significance.

"Indeed, there is a reason why cultivators place such importance on the number of meridians within them," the handler continued, his gaze piercing through 621's facade to touch something deeper within.

"The greater the quantity, the more refined and potent your Qi can become", the handler implied seriously.

621 innately understood this concept for he often pondered about his own meridians the moment he ascended towards the Qi Condensation realm, he often found himself observing the flow of Qi within him.

"You may be interested to know that the maximum number of meridians one can possess is 24," the handler revealed, his words carrying a sense of gravitas.

621's mind raced with possibilities as he processed this new information. He had always been aware of the inner workings of his meridians, but the revelation of their maximum number left him reeling with newfound understanding and slight sense of disappointment.

In fact, 621 knew exactly how many meridians he had individually, and it was definitely not close to twenty-four whole pathways as he mentally noted with regret.

As if sensing the disappointment in 621's demeanor, the handler's expression shifted ever so slightly, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"What’s more," the handler remarked casually, his tone betraying a hint of amusement.

"There exist... unorthodox methods to increase one's potential when it comes to meridians."

“Taboo…” he added.

621's ears perked up at the mention of such arts, his curiosity peaked.

"The righteous society may disdain such practices," the handler continued, a faint snort escaping his lips, "but we, are members of the Order.”

Hope flickered in 621's silver eyes as he absorbed the handler's words, a newfound sense of determination blossoming within him. If there was a chance to enhance his potential, he would seize it without hesitation.

As their gazes met, the handler's lips curled into a faint smirk, as if sensing 621's eagerness. With a vague gesture, he alluded to an existence within the Order.

"There is one among us who dabbles in such... unorthodox practices," the handler remarked cryptically, his tone tinged with scorn.

"A rather vulgar individual."