Lordi Payne bit back a curse, his mind reeling at Carl Murphy's audacious demand.
Fifteen Legendary-level Bone Tempering Pills? The greed was beyond outrageous. Those pills, if sold through Kinson Wexford, could easily fetch more than ten thousand D-grade spirit $tones—enough to hire a Foundation Stage Inner Sect senior as a personal enforcer. Why waste such a fortune on an Eighth Layer Outer Sect nobody Murphy?
Feigning regret, Lordi adopted an embarrassed tone. "My apologies, Senior Brother Murphy, Legendary-level Bone Tempering Pills are rare treasures, and I've already given all I had. Perhaps we can revisit this matter another time."
Before Carl Murphy could press further, the blue-haired cultivator in a black robe, seated beside him, jumped in with a glint of earnest. "Ha, don't mind him, Brother Payne," he leaned forward, his voice brimming with camaraderie. "Shaun Zet? Pfft, a nobody. Why waste fifteen Legendary-level pills on that runt? Listen, this strong senior only asks for twelve, and I'll ensure that nuisance is gone for good—leaving you and your lover in peace. How's that sound?"
"Sigh," The blonde cultivator, surname Newman, scoffed, she raised an eyebrow, her lips curving in amusement. "Twelve? Really, you're treating Junior Brother Payne like some stranger!" She turned to Lordi, her smile saccharine and warm as she toyed with a loose strand of her gold hair at her temple. "Dear Junior Brother, we will start fighting side by side today—that makes us more than just sect comrades. We're squad allies, like a family now. And family doesn't extort family. I won't fleece you like these two. Give me just ten pills, and I swear on my honor that Shaun Zet will never trouble you or Junior Sister Kim again. You'll live undisturbed, together, as you wish"
"Ten? Tch, how generous—" The red-haired cultivator, surname Sullivon, looked ready to join the bidding, her eyes gleaming with interest.
Head spun, a headache brewing. Before the red-head lady could jump in the conversation, Lordi Payne cut in with a dry laugh. "Ah, dear Seniors, forgive this ignorant junior." He clasped his hands in mock deference. "I've yet to properly learn the names of my esteemed seniors. How should I address you all?"
Damn vultures. Inside, Lordi seethed. These so-called "sect comrades" were fiercer than scavenge vultures—circling on my flesh, sniffing profit, each more ruthless and merciless than the last.
"Huh? Junior Brother Payne doesn't know our names?" The red-haired Sullivon shot a glance at Ruru Rosa, her tone feigned indignation with false mockingly reproach. "Junior Sister Ruru, that's on you. You brought dear Junior Brother Payne here, and we assumed you'd introduced us already. How could you be so careless?"
Ruru Rosa's face tightened, caught off guard, as the squad's teasing spotlight shifted to her.
Janiyah Sullivon didn't give Ruru Rosa a chance to snap back. With a warm smile and a sweet, melodic voice, she took charge, introducing the Thorn Squad members to Lordi Payne one by one, her demeanor effortlessly disarming.
"I'm Janiyah Sullivon," she began, gesturing to herself. At the Eighth Layer of Qi Refinement, she hailed from Soar Skull Peak. In her early thirties, her brown skin glowed under the dim candle light of the Blood Puppet Floats, her striking red hair—a side effect of a blood-related martial spell, she explained—framing her sharp features. Clad in a dark grey skirt, she carried herself with the confidence of a Sullivan Clan heir, her presence commanding yet approachable.
Next, she nodded to the blonde female cultivator. "This is Alena Newman, peak Eighth Layer, from Crimson Tide Peak." Alena, in her late thirties, had a classic beauty softened by faint wrinkles on her milk-white face. Her golden hair and brows complemented her clear blue eyes, which sparkled with warmth. Lordi Payne couldn't help but think she must have been stunning a decade ago.
Pointing to the gray-robed cultivator, Janiyah continued, "Carl Murphy." This broad-jawed man with a thick mustache, also at the peak of the eighth layer. His gray robes marked him as another Outer Sect disciple of Soar Skull Peak. With a warm smile, his calculating gaze never left Lordi Payne's face.
She gestured to the blue-haired cultivator. "Cade Barret, Eighth Layer, from Pale Skeleton Peak." Dressed in a black robe and cloak, Cade's sharp aura and cool, unsmiling demeanor made him seem unapproachable, his piercing gaze assessing Lordi with quiet intensity.
"And this," Janiyah said, indicating the dark-skinned latecomer, "is Drake Riggs, Eighth Layer, from Blood Eye Peak." In his early thirties, Drake's stern face and short, sharp hair gave him a no-nonsense air. The massive gold-hued bronze shield strapped to his back shimmered faintly, a testament to his defensive prowess.
"As for our mighty captain," she added, nodding toward the burly man in the crimson cloak, "Garrick Blackthorn, peak Ninth Layer, from Frost Ghast Peak." Nearing forty, Garrick's muscular frame and bearded, round face exuded authority. A renowned half-step Foundation cultivator, his presence anchored the Thorn squad with unshakable strength.
Finally, Janiyah glanced at Ruru Rosa. "And Ruru Rosa, like Junior Sister Kim Simona, hails from Raven Silk Peak." Barely twenty, Ruru's youthful beauty was enhanced by her mature lace violet gown and carefully applied makeup, though her icy demeanor toward Lordi Payne remained unmistakable.
Lordi committed each name and their respective peaks to memory, then added with a respectful tone. "This humble junior, Lordi Payne, is from Ghost Shade Peak."
The moment the words "Ghost Shade Peak" left Lordi Payne's lips, the Thorn Squad members exchanged glances—subtle, but loaded with something unspoken.
Strange. Why that reaction?
Their odd expressions sparked a flicker of doubt in his mind, but he pushed it aside. His most pressing concern was unraveling the mystery of the Hanz Clan Estate task and the dangers it held.
With a respectful nod, Lordi first expressed his gratitude to Janiyah Sullivon for the introductions. His movements were deliberate as he took Captain Garrick's teapot, pouring tea for each squad member with careful precision. As he served them in turn, he addressed each by name again, his tone carrying just the right balance of deference and confidence.
Back on his seat, Lordi Payne cleared his throat, ventured a question, keeping his tone casual but probing. "I saw the Hanz Clan Estate task listed at the Task Division not long ago. Back then, it only required Sixth Layer Qi Refinement or higher, with a reward of a few hundred D-grade spirit $tones. Why are so many elite cultivators, like our Thorn squad, taking it on now?"
Carl Murphy let out a dry chuckle, his mustache twitching as he leaned back. "Ha, Junior Brother Payne... when you saw that task listing, the first squad sent on the task had already been wiped out. The news just hadn't reached the sect yet. That's why the task reward and requirements were so low."
He raised the teacup to his lips, then paused. With a heavy sigh, he set it down untouched. His voice turned gravel-dark. "These days, four battle squads have attempted this task since. The first three? Gone. No bodies. No traces. Just... vanished."
"The fourth squad, set off just recently," Carl added, "was a group of eleven, seven of them above Seventh Layer Qi Refinement Stage. They stocked up on restoration elixirs and Dao Fulus, prepared for anything. Yet only their captain, Hughie Wing, made it out—barely."
"That Hughie Wing is my equal in strength. He crawled back to the sect, gravely wounded, and collapsed after muttering a few words. He's been unconscious ever since."
Carl continued, oblivious to Lordi's growing dread. "Because of this, while the task requirement still lists a Sixth Layer minimum strength, the reward's been jacked up to 10,000 D-grade spirit $tones."
Wait! What did you say?!!
An eleven-cultivator squad, elite and well-equipped, obliterated? Only one survivor? The squad captain, an Eighth Layer Qi Refiner senior who barely managed to escaped and fled back to the sect with grave wound. And he's comatose until now?!
What kind of nightmare were they walking into?
What kind of abyss-spawned fucking deathtrap is this?
Forcing a smile, Lordi Payne feigned optimism, yet his spine prickling with icy unease. He tried to probe further, keeping his voice light. "But with so many formidable Senior Brothers and Sisters leading the charge this time... surely this task will be effortless, right?"
Carl Murphy sipped his tea, the steam curling around his mustache as he fixed Lordi Payne with a steady gaze. "It's not that simple," he said, his voice low, carrying the weight of a grim tale. "The Hanz Clan's a shadow of its former glory now. Several centuries ago, they were a formidable force. They boasted several Foundation Stage cultivators, and once a Clan Chief—a true shining genius at the very peak of Foundation Stage—nearly ascended to Core Formation with the ambition to acquire the Upper Three Realm Golden Dao-Core. A legend, that one. But he failed, perish to ash during ascension tribulation. Then the Hanz clan sank, they never recovered. No descendant since has reached Foundation Stage."
He set his cup down, leaning forward. "That changed with theirs latest generation. Krogh Hanz was a very prodigy. This Senior Brother joined our Holy Sect, residenced on Crimson Tide Peak and he broke through layers in Qi Refinement Stage at unprecedented fast speed. A rare cultivation talent. About ten years ago, Senior Brother Krogh Hanz was already at the peak of Ninth Layer. That's the time point when rumors spread of a fateful opportunity in Vermithys State—something mystery tied to a Cosmic Path Establishment Technique."
Carl's eyes glinted, recounting the chaos. "The news drew countless peak Qi Refinement geniuses from hundreds of sects and factions, like moths to a flame. Senior Brother Krogh Hanz was among them. He carved a bloody path through the fray, wielding his Red Run Sword Art. Each swing of his epic Sword of Blood Red felled foes, heads rolled, blood soaked the earth like a crimson river. They say he killed ten with every step, a one-man slaughter that burned our holy Abyss Pit Sect's formidable fame into the annals of that brutal clash."
The squad listened, rapt, as Carl's gaze turned distant. "But the opportunity of the Cosmic Path Establishment Technique vanished—gone, like it never existed. The chaos bloodshed left countless dead, and though Krogh Hanz shone brighter than most, he didn't claim the prize. We all assumed he'd return triumphant to the holy sect, perhaps pursue an Earth Path Establishment Technique to break through to Foundation Stage. But then..." He paused, shaking his head. "He vanished. Never seen again."
The weight of the words settled over the Blood Puppet Floats. "The Hanz Clan, which had pinned its revival on Krogh, sank back into obscurity. Clans like theirs rise and fall all the time—nobody bats an eye. But then, just months ago..." Carl's voice dropped to a near-whisper. "Every soul in the Hanz Clan Estate was slaughtered overnight. Silently. Without a trace of warning."
Across the table, Lordi Payne's face grew grave.His teacup froze halfway to his lips. The warmth had long left his fingers.
Carl Murphy's tale wove a haunting image: a once-mighty Hanz Clan, now a hollow shell, its prodigy vanished, its people slaughtered in a single, silent night. The Hanz Clan Estate wasn't merely a task—it was a cursed graveyard, and the Thorn Squad's Blood Puppet Floats was hurtling toward its maw.
True, the Hanz Clan had withered in recent years, its strength a faint echo of its past. Yet its legacy loomed large. A century ago, it had birthed a peak Foundation Stage cultivator, a near-mythic figure who'd grazed the threshold of Core Formation. That golden era was only a hundred years gone—a mere blink in the long lives of cultivators. Many who'd witnessed the Hanz Clan's glory, including some Qi Refinement Stage sect comrades, still drew breath, their memories of the Hanz Clan's might vivid and enduring.
Though the current clan members, save for the missing genius Krogh Hanz, were weak—negligible against the Thorn Squad's overwhelming power—the estate itself was no simple ruin. Its ancient array formations, defensive traps, and protective wards, forged in the clan's prime, remained formidable. These were the handiwork of a peak Foundation Stage master, designed to endure. Add to that the potential presence of potent Dao Fulis, artifacts, and weapons left by the clan's legendary chief, and the estate bristled with hidden dangers.
The four previous squads before them were proof enough—this estate was not just a graveyard, or some mere ruin.
It was a maw, waiting to snap shut.
Lordi Payne's mind churned, the weight of the Hanz Clan Estate's deadly history pressing against his forced composure. He took a breath, choosing his words carefully. "Senior Brother Murphy, the ten thousand D-grade spirit stone reward sounds generous," he said, his tone measured, "but split among so many cultivators, it's not exactly a fortune. Hardly seems worth the risk for a task this dangerous."
A knowing smirk curled Murphy's lips as he refilled his cup. The steam curling lazily in the air of the Blood Puppet Floats.
"Sharp eye, Junior Brother Payne." He took a slow sip before continuing. "You've caught the trick. Nobody on this task—not a single one of us—gives a damn about the ten thousand spirit stones. The real prize, the one everyone's got their eyes on, is the Hanz Clan's Treasury House."
His voice dropped, weighted with promise.
"Hughie Wing's last words before collapsing spoke of the Hanz Clan's treasury—stocked with cultivation manuals, martial techniques, rare alchemical ingredients... and most crucially..."
He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial hush, as if sharing a sect secret. "When Hughie Wing stumbled back to the Holy Sect, half-dead and barely conscious, he muttered something before he passed out. The Treasury House, he said, is a vault of wonders—stuffed with Cultivation Art Techniques, Martial Spell Arts, rare alchemy ingredients, forging materials, and, most crucially, cultivation insights."
Carl's gaze swept the squad, ensuring he had their attention. "See, the Hanz Clan hasn't produced a Foundation Stage cultivator since their legendary chief died a century ago. Their descendants poured everything into studying the breakthrough to Foundation Stage, leaving behind a trove of notes, theories, and speculations. Those insights are gold for anyone stuck at the peak of Qi Refinement, like most of us here."
He tapped his teacup, emphasizing his point. "But the crown jewels? The complete Alchemy Formula for the Foundation Establishment Pill and one of its key ingredients, the Crimson Whisker Vine. That's what we're really after."