“One...”
Jiang Lin's voice wasn't loud, but the moment the syllable fell, the air in the tea house felt as if it had been suddenly seized by an invisible hand.
The laughter of the elven nobles came to an abrupt halt.
Their bodies froze in place, the arrogance and contempt on their faces hardening into a twisted, almost comical expression.
They trembled violently as a wave of terror surged from the depths of their marrow like a tsunami.
This was an uncontrollable fear rooted in biological instinct.
In their eyes, the human youth sitting by the window, holding his tea cup, had completely transformed.
There was no light around him, no magic essence fluctuations, and no visible changes to the naked eye.
But in their perception, Jiang Lin was no longer the lowly human from before.
Behind him, a boundless sea of blood seemed to be churning.
Countless mangled limbs drifted in the crimson waves, and innumerable twisted faces wailed within the blood mist.
It was a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood—a terrifying tableau formed by the final despair of countless lives, capable of crushing any mind.
And the golden-haired, golden-eyed youth stood at the very center of this sea of blood.
Piles of skeletons lay at his feet, a blood-red curtain obscured the sky behind him, and his eyes reflected endless slaughter and violence, as if he were the architect of it all.
He was a demon god stepped out from a sea of blood, wearing a human skin. Sitting in this small elven tea house, holding a cup of refined Moon Dew tea, he made it seem as though that horrific landscape was nothing more than a faint, insignificant aroma in his cup.
The leading male elf was the first to break.
The color drained from his face in an instant, leaving him paler than the lime on the walls.
His pupils constricted violently, his lips began to tremble uncontrollably, and a rattling sound, like that of a drowning man, escaped his throat.
He wanted to retreat, but his legs felt like they were filled with lead and refused to obey. He wanted to draw his sword, but his fingers twitched so much he couldn't even grip the hilt.
The female elf behind him fared even worse. She collapsed directly to the floor, her hands clamped tightly over her mouth for fear of making any sound that might disturb the demon god sitting by the window.
At the same time, a puddle of liquid began to spread beneath her... she had wet herself in terror.
The other two male elves were in similar states; one leaned against the wall barely standing, while the other was half-kneeling on the floor, his forehead pressed against the cold stone as he shook like a leaf.
The other elves in the tea house were unaffected.
They only looked in confusion at the suddenly paralyzed noble youths, not understanding what was happening.
In their perception, Jiang Lin was still just a human youth quietly drinking his tea.
This was the effect of Blood Deterrence from Jiang Lin's Crimson Slaughterer title.
After being upgraded once, the effect of the title had increased exponentially.
“Get out.”
Jiang Lin spoke again. His voice was still low, yet it struck the elves' hearts like a heavy hammer.
Like a condemned prisoner receiving a pardon, the leading male elf finally regained control of his body.
He didn't even dare to look at Jiang Lin again. Stumbling as he turned, he knocked over the chair behind him and scrambled out of the tea house on all fours.
His three companions followed close behind, looking as pathetic as wild rabbits being chased by a predator.
Peace returned to the tea house.
Elune held her tea cup, her pale purple eyes filled with disbelief.
In that moment, she had felt it too.
The aura hadn't been directed at her; it had merely brushed past like a freezing wind from a glacier. Even as a mere ripple from the edge, it had made the hair on the back of her neck stand up and her heart skip a beat.
She was a 3rd-rank peak elven magic swordsman, a true standout among the younger generation of the Silver Moon Kingdom.
Yet in the face of that aura, she felt as fragile as a candle in the wind.
And that aura was merely a tiny ripple Jiang Lin had "slightly" released.
She looked at the calm youth across from her as he picked up his tea cup again, a storm of shock raging in her heart.
She had previously sensed Jiang Lin's life level, and even after his breakthrough, it was only at the early 4th-rank. She had assumed he wouldn't be too powerful as he had only just entered the mid-rank transcendent level.
But now, her perspective had completely changed.
Who exactly was he? How could a 4th-rank human, who had been shipwrecked and drifted to Alderon, possess such a terrifying aura?
“Did I scare you?”
Jiang Lin's voice pulled her thoughts back.
Elune snapped out of it and saw Jiang Lin looking at her, a hint of apology in his golden eyes.
“N-No.” She shook her head quickly, then paused before asking, “What was that just now...?”
“Just a little trick.”
Jiang Lin set down his tea cup.
A little trick?
Elune found that hard to believe.
She lowered her head and took small sips of her tea, trying to use the warmth to steady her trembling heart.
But her fingers continued to shake slightly.
It wasn't fear, but a strange, indescribable excitement.
Jiang Lin didn't explain further and simply finished his Moon Dew tea.
“The tea was delicious. Thank you for the treat.”
He stood up.
“Let’s head back.”
...
By the time they left the tea house, the sky was already dimming.
The lingering glow of the sunset bathed the stone paths of Silverleaf Town, dyeing the entire place in a warm golden-red.
There were fewer pedestrians on the street than when they arrived, and vendors were packing up their goods for the day.
The two walked back along the road they had come. As they passed the Adventurers Guild, Jiang Lin stopped and looked at the three-story stone and wood building.
“I’ll check that place out tomorrow.”
Elune followed his gaze.
“You really plan to take on quests to earn money?”
“Mm. I want to get a sense of the prices and quest difficulty around here first.”
“But...” Elune hesitated. “You’re human. The guild will pay you much less than an elf. And some quests won't even be offered to you.”
“It’s fine.”
Jiang Lin withdrew his gaze and continued walking.
The two left the town and returned to the manor along the wide dirt road.
The vineyards by the road shimmered with a warm luster in the sunset. Occasionally, they saw elven farmers heading home with their tools, humming unknown songs.
When they saw Elune, they stopped and bowed respectfully.
“Good evening, My Lady.”
“Mm. Good work today.”
Elune nodded to each of them in response, her tone gentle and without any noble arrogance.
Jiang Lin observed this, and his impression of the elven girl improved slightly.
By the time they reached the manor, the sky was completely dark.
The windows of the main house glowed with warm light, and Alice was waiting at the door.
Seeing the two walking side-by-side, the corners of her mouth curled into a meaningful smile.
“My Lady, Mr. Matthew, dinner is ready.”
Dinner was as hearty as before.
There was golden, crispy roasted poultry, steamed river fish, fresh vegetable salads, and several elven side dishes.
Elune sat at the head of the table, with Jiang Lin to her right. Alice and the butler stood by to serve.
“Alice, sit and eat with us.”
Elune suddenly spoke.
Alice blinked in surprise.
“My Lady, that wouldn't be proper...”
“There are no outsiders here. We don't need to be so formal with the rules.”
Alice hesitated for a moment before obediently sitting to Elune’s left.
The butler remained standing respectfully to the side, indicating he had already eaten.
The atmosphere at dinner was much more relaxed than at lunch.
Alice was quite talkative, using slow and clear Elvish to recount the interesting things that had happened at the manor that day.
The cook’s new berry pie was a hit, the gardener’s moonlight roses had finally bloomed, and the butler’s Silver Moon cat had chased a butterfly into the vineyard again and got stuck in the vines, requiring quite an effort to rescue.
Elune occasionally added a few words, her tone soft and her lips carrying a faint smile.
Jiang Lin listened quietly, nodding occasionally while silently noting down unfamiliar vocabulary and expressions.
Little Black crouched by the table and launched an attack on a fresh steamed river fish, its face getting covered in oil.
After dinner, Elune stood up.
“It’s been a long day. Get some rest.”
“You too.”
Jiang Lin nodded and headed upstairs.
Little Black jumped off the table and followed him.
Back in his room, Jiang Lin closed the door and walked to the window.
The manor outside looked exceptionally peaceful in the moonlight.
In the garden, the moonlight roses were slowly blooming in the night, their silver-white petals glowing softly like stars fallen to earth.
“That Elune is actually a good person,” Little Black said as it jumped onto the windowsill cushion.
“She’s pretty, kind-hearted, and a noble lady. If you could stay here and marry into her family, you’d never have to worry about anything again.”
Jiang Lin didn't answer. Instead, he asked:
“Little Black, what do you think my master is doing right now?”
Little Black was silent for a moment.
“Probably practicing his sword. What else can that sword nut do?”
“Do you think he’s looking for me?”
“Mm... it’s possible. After all, the Demon Lord Trial ended a long time ago.”
Jiang Lin sighed, then turned to the bed. He sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and began to circulate his breathing technique.
....
Meanwhile, on the other side.
Frostspeak Peak, the ice crystal pavilion.
The aurora flowed across the sky, making the eternally frozen peak look like a dreamscape.
Loren sat cross-legged at the edge of the ice terrace with the Frostblade across his knees. The sword was still, but his sword intent already permeated the entire mountain.
Within a radius of dozens of miles, the wind and snow were kept at bay, and even the flow of the aurora seemed to freeze for a beat.
He opened his eyes, a nearly imperceptible ripple passing through the depths of his purple pupils.
It had been a month.
A full month had passed since Jiang Lin had crushed that ultra-long-distance random teleportation scroll at the edge of the Forgotten Swamp.
He didn't know where his disciple had been sent. The Saintas Kingdom, the Northern Ice Field, or even a more distant continent—anything was possible.
The randomness of an ultra-long-distance random teleportation scroll was too great, so great that even he couldn't track it.
However, he wasn't worried for the time being.
The sword intent mark he had left in Jiang Lin’s body was still perfectly intact.
That mark was connected to his soul. If Jiang Lin encountered a fatal crisis, the mark would automatically activate, releasing a sword qi equivalent to his full-strength strike.
Since the sword qi hadn't been released, it meant his disciple was at least safe.
That was enough.
As long as the boy was alive, with his talent and wit, he would eventually find his way back.
Loren closed his eyes again, his sword intent spreading once more.
However, that invisible sharpness lasted for less than fifteen minutes before it was quietly withdrawn.
He stood up, and the Frostblade returned silently to its sheath. His ice-blue robes trailed a cold path under the aurora.
He felt like he needed to do something.
Ever since he had taken this disciple, his life felt like it had been put on fast-forward.
Mastering an abridged version of a super-tier sword art in three days, pushing a king-tier sword technique to its limit in two, and skyrocketing from the early 2nd-rank to the peak of the 3rd-rank in three months, with combat power rivaling the 6th-rank.
Before taking a disciple, he could sit on Frostspeak Peak for years at a time, contemplating the way of the sword and tempering his sword soul with a heart as still as water.
After taking a disciple, he found that he couldn't quite sit still anymore.
With his disciple gone, there was no one for him to teach, no one for him to protect, and no one to say “Master taught me well” in that matter-of-fact tone before breaking through right under his nose.
Loren stood at the edge of the ice terrace, his purple eyes looking toward the southeast.
That was the direction of the demon territory.
“Those four old things... I still haven't finished settling the score from last time.”
He spoke softly to himself.
Then, his figure dissipated into the aurora like a wisp of ice mist, silently and weightlessly, as if he had never existed.
The territory of the Molten Demon King was located in a group of active volcanoes at the northernmost tip of the demon continent.
Magma surged through cracks in the earth like blood, the air was thick with the pungent scent of sulfur, and the sky was obscured by volcanic ash into an eternal dark red.
In the center of this forbidden zone stood a giant city constructed of obsidian and lava: Molten City, the lair of the Molten Demon King, Gromheart.
The Molten Demon King had been in a very bad mood lately.
His most prized successor, Grom, a 5th-rank peak berserker, had been insta-killed by a mysterious human boy in the Abyss Corridor.
He had originally wanted to personally turn that human into ash, but before he could act, he was targeted by a much more terrifying individual.
Sword Saint Loren.
That human swordsman, with a face so beautiful it defied gender, and a sword intent that made even a 9th-rank Demon King like him feel heart palpitations.
What was more hateful was that he couldn't beat him.
In a one-on-one fight, he had no chance of winning.
Even if the four Great Demon Kings joined forces, they might not necessarily gain any advantage over that sword nut.
So, back at the Forgotten Swamp, he had chosen to endure.
Even after being chased down and struck by one of Loren’s sword strikes, making him cough up blood, he had endured it.
If a disciple died, another could be trained, but if his life was gone, everything was over.
He had endured for a month, thinking the matter had been put to rest.
But lately, that guy had been coming back repeatedly to cause trouble...
The City Lord's Mansion of Molten City was carved out of a single massive block of obsidian and served as the place where the Molten Demon King handled affairs and cultivated.
At this moment, in the private cultivation room at the deepest part of the mansion, Gromheart sat cross-legged by the edge of a lava pool.
Dark red flames burned around him as he repaired the hidden injuries inflicted by Loren.
Suddenly, he felt something and snapped his eyes open.
An ice-blue figure was reflected in his crimson-gold eyes.
The figure stood at the entrance of the cultivation room, his ice-blue robes pristine and completely out of place amidst the flowing lava.
His long hair fell like a waterfall, his purple eyes were calm, and a sheathed longsword hung at his waist. There was no aura leaking from him, making him look like an ordinary traveler who had lost his way.
But the scales all over Gromheart’s body nearly stood on end.
“Loren!! Why are you here again?!!”
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