At his current velocity, even tens of thousands of kilometers were nothing. He didn’t have to fly for long before the outline of the Savagefang Mountain Range rose to meet him on the horizon.
The jagged peaks loomed in the distance, rising like a bestial maw ready to devour any fool who dared approach. As he drew closer, the terrain became more defined—mountains wreathed in a ferocious aura, clawed forests clinging to their flanks, and deep, winding canyons that looked as if carved by ancient titans. The sky above the range had dimmed slightly, despite the sun still shining overhead, as if the very land exhaled hostility.
Nestled at the foot of the mountains, between two towering stone ridges, stood a city enclosed by beastbone-reinforced walls. Even from this distance, it pulsed with life and movement.
Though he had never visited it before, Mikael recognized it at once. He’d studied the Savagefang Mountain Range before taking this mission, and with that had come a basic understanding of the city built at its foot.
His gaze lingered on it, and his thoughts briefly turned toward its origins.
It was the only city near the Savagefang Mountain Range—a solitary outpost constructed millennia ago by the Lin Clan, one of the powerful branches under the Flame Sovereign Sect.
Back then, building a city in such a location had been seen as a foolish risk. And in many ways, it was. Savagefang was home to countless demonic beasts, and waves of them regularly surged from the range. These constant attacks severely hindered construction efforts and drove the costs far beyond expectation.
There were times when the project teetered on the edge of abandonment, but the Lin Clan had stubbornly pressed on. In the end, they finished it. Their coffers were nearly drained by the time it was done, but the city stood.
And once it did, it didn’t take long for loose cultivators to arrive.
Which, of course, made perfect sense. The city’s proximity to the Savagefang Mountain Range made it an ideal base of operations for cultivators seeking to explore its deadly depths.
In this way, they could more easily venture into the Savagefang Mountain Range while relying on the city as a place to rest and recuperate afterward. Not only that, but they could also sell demonic beast carcasses, buy various cultivation resources, cultivate in safety, and benefit from a number of conveniences that made exploration not just safer—but also more rewarding for their growth.
With all these advantages, it was only logical that the city hadn’t just survived—it had thrived.
The Lin Clan, as a result, became rich. Extremely rich. And ever since, the city had remained firmly under their control, acting as a hub for loose cultivators and others planning expeditions into the mountain range.
Mikael broke off his train of thought as he hovered mid-air, gaze fixed on the bustling city below. He let out a quiet sigh. “Tch… I’ll need to stop here to prepare myself before heading into the depths of the Savagefang Mountain Range.”
While he could technically bypass the city and dive straight into the wilderness, that would be reckless. His current understanding of the Savagefang Mountain Range was shallow at best. Locations of known demonic beast dens, terrain hazards, local disturbances—intel like that was crucial, and the fastest way to gather it was by passing through the city.
‘Going in blind would be idiotic,’ he thought, his eyes narrowing slightly.
And yet, the idea of stepping into a crowded settlement—especially one where his Wandering Sword Sect robes would immediately draw attention, given his Core Disciple status—was enough to sour his mood.
There would be fawning. Polite smiles hiding ambition. People trying to curry favor or bask in his presence, convinced that proximity to a Core Disciple might elevate their own standing.
And to be fair… they weren’t wrong. If they succeeded in their attempts and managed to become a follower of a Core Disciple of the Wandering Sword Sect, their status could undergo an earth-shattering transformation.
After all, following a Core Disciple of a behemoth like the Wandering Sword Sect wasn’t shameful—it was an incredible opportunity. Which only confirmed what he already expected: his visit to Savagefang City was going to be annoying.
Because of that, he wasn’t particularly excited about heading down—especially considering that both he and Sangrelia were itching to fight some demonic beasts. Still, knowing he couldn’t always do as he pleased, he sighed again and descended toward the city.
Mid-flight, he didn’t forget to take one crucial precaution—the same presence suppression ‘technique’ he’d used back when hiding from the demonic cultivators.
This time, however, it wasn’t to conceal himself completely. Instead, it was to muddy his cultivation signature. With the technique active, other cultivators’ Divine Sense would still detect that he was within the Spiritual Foundation Realm—but identifying his exact layer would become far more difficult.
It wasn’t foolproof, of course. A Core Formation Realm cultivator could easily see through it. But as far as Mikael knew, there shouldn’t be anyone of that level in Savagefang City.
At most, there might be a few cultivators in the upper layers of the Spiritual Foundation Realm, and even those likely numbered no more than a handful. With that in mind, Mikael was fairly confident his cultivation wouldn’t be exposed.
But why bother at all? Why was it so important to obscure his exact level?
Simple. If he didn’t, there was a very real chance that some idiots would accuse him of being an impostor—just like what had happened with that Inner Disciple.
And he had no doubt there’d be people eager to ‘curry favor’ with the Wandering Sword Sect by ‘exposing a fraud.’ He could easily resolve the misunderstanding by showing his Core Disciple Token… but honestly, it sounded like a hassle he preferred to avoid. So, he concealed his cultivation instead.
As Mikael descended toward Savagefang City, several flickers of light shot through the sky—the city’s defensive formation reacting to the presence of an unfamiliar Spiritual Foundation Realm cultivator and alerting the appropriate authorities.
Moments later, a squad of four cultivators rose into the air to intercept him. Clad in uniform armor bearing the Lin Clan insignia, each stood atop a finely-crafted flying sword, positioning themselves in a half-circle a few dozen meters away.
One of them—a sharp-eyed man at the front—cupped his fists with a neutral expression that hovered between caution and disinterest. “Fellow daoist, this is regulated airspace. For safety and order, please identify yourself before proceeding further.”
Mikael didn’t answer. He simply adjusted his outer robe, revealing the silver-thread embroidery and the Core Disciple emblem stitched across his chest.
A sharp inhale came from one of the guards. “That emblem—wait, he’s a Core Disciple…”
The leader’s eyes widened. His demeanor shifted instantly—from polite firmness to respectful caution—as he bowed low. “Senior of the Wandering Sword Sect, please forgive our ignorance. We did not recognize your honored robes right away.”
The rest of the guards followed suit, quickly bowing in unison.
“If you wish to enter the city, we would be honored to escort you directly to the Lin Clan Pavilion,” the leader continued, now addressing him with the tone one reserved for someone above. “Or assist you with the registration procedures, if needed.”
“Registration procedures?”
The leader bowed again before replying, “Registration is required of every Spiritual Foundation Realm cultivator entering Savagefang City. It involves placing your spiritual mark into the city’s formation. This way, if you return in the future, you won’t be flagged as ‘unknown,’ and the deployment of city guards won’t be necessary.”
He offered a faintly apologetic smile. “I’m truly sorry, Honored Core Disciple, but even someone of your status must undergo this process. Please understand—it ensures the city’s safety and prevents powerful, unregistered cultivators from running amok.” He finished with another bow.
“Lead the way,” Mikael said coldly.
The elite guard leader inwardly let out a relieved breath. He was glad the Core Disciple of the Wandering Sword Sect wasn’t the unreasonable kind who made things difficult over minor protocol.
With a smile, he turned and flew toward the inner district of the city, with Mikael and the other elite guards following closely behind.
As they moved at a relaxed pace, some of the guards attempted small talk, offering tidbits about the city and pointing out notable landmarks. But after hearing Mikael’s uninterested responses, they wisely fell silent.
It didn’t take long before the group descended toward a beautiful building in traditional Chinese style—the Registration Hall.
At its entrance stood two elderly guards, each at the 3rd layer of the Spiritual Foundation Realm. Their presence alone showed the importance the Lin Clan placed on this location. After all, they wouldn’t have stationed two powerful cultivators here otherwise.
“Again?” one of the guards said, glancing toward the squad leader with a wry look. “That’s the fifth one this month. You’ve been busy, Junior Rong.”
The now-named Rong Tianxiu shot him a sharp look. “Elder Bai, show some respect when referring to the Honored Core Disciple.”
Bai Kuanglei’s eyes widened. Usually, Rong Tianxiu wasn’t impolite toward the unregistered Spiritual Foundation Realm cultivators. But he’d never seen him act this reverently either.
His gaze flicked to Mikael—and instantly, his heart skipped a beat. ‘A Core Disciple of the Wandering Sword Sect!’
In that moment, he wanted to slap himself. Just earlier, he’d dismissed Mikael entirely, treating him like empty air. A mistake that, given the notorious pride of large sect disciples, could’ve easily come back to bite him. And this one wasn’t just any disciple. He was a Core Disciple.
Not only was Mikael likely far stronger than him, but the power backing him dwarfed anything Bai’s status as a Lin Clan elder could offer.
With his face turning pale, Bai Kuanglei dropped to his knees. “This one failed to recognize the Honored Core Disciple. Please forgive my offense.”
Mikael inwardly rolled his eyes. ‘So over the top,’ he thought with a faint shrug. Still, he understood the man’s reaction.
He didn’t answer immediately.
His emerald eyes swept over the kneeling elder, pausing just long enough to acknowledge him. His face remained unreadable—no irritation, no amusement—only the quiet indifference of someone who had seen worse and cared little for such gestures.
“Get up. I’m not the type to hold a grudge over a greeting,” Mikael said, his voice flat.
Without waiting for a response, he turned and resumed walking, unconcerned with how the elder reacted. The four elite guards—Rong Tianxiu and three others in black-plated armor marked with Lin Clan sigils—fell into formation around him in silence.
Behind them, Bai Kuanglei exhaled shakily, still recovering from the shock as the group passed without incident.
“You escaped a calamity,” muttered the second guard under his breath, arms folded.
Bai gave him a glare but said nothing in return.
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