Chapter 11: Bryce
Victor read until nightfall. He only stopped because he was exhausted.
When he stepped outside, he found many people waiting.
Emma was still by the door, along with Liam, who was keeping watch and occasionally calming the disciples.
Victor could feel nurous gazes directed straight at him.
"Wait!" He pulled the door back just as Liam was about to open it.
"What is it, Young Master?" Liam asked with a strained smile, worried that more trouble was coming.
He couldn’t deny that he had already begun to feel displeased with Victor’s behavior in the sect.
It was far too arrogant—yet as a senior disciple, he was the one helping him.
"I’m not done yet. I just got tired. I don’t want the books to be moved. I’ll continue reading tomorrow until the afternoon," Victor said.
His aning was clear.
He wanted the library to remain closed so nothing would be disturbed.
"Liam, it’s only 24 hours. That shouldn’t be a problem, right?" Emma asked.
No matter what, she had to support Victor.
"You might need to ask the Sect Master," Liam replied.
"That won’t be necessary. We can keep the library closed for as long as Young Master Victor wishes."
A voice suddenly cut in—a man around Liam’s age, with strikingly handso features.
His brows were sharp, his hair long, and he wore a pristine white robe while holding a feather fan.
At the sight of him, the younger disciples looked uneasy and afraid.
"Deputy Enforcer..." so of them muttered.
In a sect or clan, the Head Enforcer was usually an elder, while the deputy was a feared senior disciple.
It was no wonder they looked intimidated.
The man approached Victor, and upon reaching him, he even bowed.
"Young Master, I am Bryce Allen—just call
Bryce. If you need anything, feel free to tell . I will assist you, and I will keep this library closed for as long as you wish," he said.
Everyone stared at him in disbelief.
He was known as one of the coldest figures in the sect. No one dared to offend him, as those who did always t a miserable fate.
Yet now, he had bowed to a thirteen-year-old boy, ready to serve him.
Victor gave a faint smile, knowing that people like this would naturally appear when his background inspired fear.
"Thank you. I hope you can ensure that nothing in the library is disturbed," Victor replied.
DING!
(You have committed an evil act: forcibly closing a public library for personal gain. Your comprehension of the Heavenly Lightning rit Law has increased from 0% to 10%!)
[rit Law:]
Tyrannical War Body (Heaven Class >10%)
Heavenly Lightning (Heaven Class >10%)
Victor smiled inwardly as the notification finally appeared again.
Now, his understanding of Heavenly Lightning had reached 10%.
That ant he could already rge with one Heavenly Lightning.
As for Earth-Class lightning techniques, he could likely master them instantly.
---
After that, Victor returned to his residence.
It was a luxurious two-story concrete house, complete with a spacious yard filled with grapevines.
Emma opened the door for him, revealing a living room equipped with complete facilities.
It wasn’t just furniture—there were also various artifacts designed for lightning cultivation.
He noticed a chair that, once sat upon, enveloped the user in golden lightning, seemingly helping refine their lightning power.
Alisa was sitting on it, eyes closed, ditating seriously.
"Ahem..." Emma cleared her throat, causing the woman to open her eyes and frown.
"Miss Alisa, it would be best if you did not use the facilities here," she said.
"What do you an? I am a guest of the Heavenly Lightning Sect. I have the right to use every facility they provide." Alisa was shocked that a maid dared to reprimand her.
If not for her strength, she might have already slapped her.
Besides, even Margaret—the true superior of this maid—was her cousin.
"I want to try it..." Victor spoke.
"We can take turns. Do you plan to sit on that chair forever?" Alisa replied.
"Of course not. But my belongings are not ant to be shared. In the sect’s training hall, there are many chairs like this. You can use one there—no disciple would mind letting you keep it. I allow you to stay here only so you can rest in peace," Victor said indifferently.
"But if you want to use the kitchen to cook dinner, I don’t mind," he added.
"You want
to cook?" Alisa couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
This boy already had a maid—why was he ordering soone else around?
This wasn’t just arrogance. It was outright oppression.
"Thirty minutes," Victor said.
"If you’re not done, sleep outside."
After saying that, Victor sat on the lightning chair, as Alisa had already stepped aside.
Golden lightning enveloped him.
It wasn’t painful—on the contrary, it gave an indescribably pleasant sensation.
The lightning fused with him, refining his power and giving him the illusion of being far stronger.
And when one beca stronger, training weaker levels of power naturally beca much easier.
Victor closed his eyes, wanting to see if there would be any results within an hour.
Going from 10% to 11% wouldn’t be easy—but he had accumulated insights from the books he had read.
That could grant him a small breakthrough.
Victor sank into ditation, as if he had forgotten everything.
Alisa stood not far from the chair, still looking like she wanted to protest—but she couldn’t, not with Victor in that state.
She began to wonder if she really had to cook.
But if she did, it would truly lower her dignity in front of that boy.
"What?" she frowned, noticing Emma’s gaze, which seed ready to force her.
"The Young Master can have you expelled from this sect. I suggest you behave. Being asked to cook is hardly a terrible thing," Emma said calmly before walking over to the sofa and sitting down.
She made no move to force her, contrary to what Alisa had expected.
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