"That position should belong to soone worthy," Mariana Valerius continued, her youthful face a stark contrast to the ancient power radiating from her being.
Every pair of eyes in the hall darted between the Pavilion Master and Third Elder—now just an ordinary alchemist. The man's face had gone from pale to red with humiliation.
"Pavilion Master, please reconsider," he pleaded, his voice cracking. "I've served the Guild faithfully for decades!"
She fixed him with a gaze that could freeze fire. "Yet you've repeatedly placed personal vendettas above Guild interests. That ends today."
I kept my expression neutral despite the satisfaction bubbling inside . This was an unexpected windfall—my enemy stripped of power in one decisive stroke.
The forr Elder bowed stiffly and retreated, shooting a glance of pure hatred as he passed.
Mariana turned her attention back to . "Liam Knight, I've heard promising reports about your alchemical talents."
"Thank you, Pavilion Master," I replied, genuinely surprised by her attention.
She studied with those ancient eyes in her young face. "The Guild now has an Elder position to fill. Should you pass our assessnt in three days' ti, that position could be yours."
Gasps erupted throughout the hall. Sofia's eyes widened in shock beside .
? An Elder? The offer seed too good to be true.
"I'd be honored to attempt the assessnt," I said carefully.
Mariana nodded once. "Good. Fifth Elder will provide the details. This assembly is dismissed."
As the crowd dispersed in excited whispers, Sofia grabbed my arm.
"Do you realize what just happened?" she hissed. "No one becos an Elder without decades of service!"
I nodded slowly, the wheels in my mind turning. "Which ans she has her own motives for offering this position."
"Aren't you suspicious?" Sofia asked.
"Of course," I replied honestly. "But the benefits of becoming an Elder are too significant to ignore."
As an Elder, I'd gain access to rare cultivation resources, ancient texts, and—most importantly—political protection that even the Blackthornes would hesitate to challenge directly.
Whatever the Pavilion Master's true agenda, this opportunity aligned perfectly with my own goals.
---
Two days later, I sat cross-legged in my quarters, reviewing ancient alchemical formulas in preparation for the assessnt. My phone rang, interrupting my concentration.
Unknown number. I answered cautiously.
"Liam Knight speaking."
"You pathetic, worthless insect." The voice dripped with venom and aristocratic arrogance.
My body tensed instantly. Dashiell Blackthorne, heir to the Blackthorne Family of Veridia City.
"To what do I owe this pleasant conversation?" I asked calmly, reaching for my recorder. This call couldn't be a coincidence.
"You crippled my cousin Travis!" he snarled. "Did you think there wouldn't be consequences?"
I activated the recorder silently. "Your cousin attacked first. I rely defended myself."
"Don't give that garbage," Dashiell spat. "Travis told everything. You deliberately provoked him!"
I kept my voice level. "Is that what he told you? Interesting version of events."
"Listen carefully, you lowborn piece of trash," he continued, rage making his voice shake. "Your days are numbered. I'm coming to Havenwood personally to deal with you."
"What about our agreent?" I asked. "The one you signed publicly, promising to leave and my associates alone."
His laugh was cold and dismissive. "That worthless piece of paper? It was just for show, to appease those pathetic followers of yours on The Warrior's Scroll."
Perfect. He was incriminating himself beautifully.
"So you're saying your public oath ans nothing?" I pressed.
"Of course it ans nothing!" he exploded. "Do you think soone of my status is bound by promises made to commoners? The Blackthorne na stands above such trivialities!"
I smiled to myself. "And what about the users of The Warrior's Scroll? What are your thoughts on them?"
"Those insignificant ants?" he scoffed. "Just mindless peasants practicing their pitiful martial arts in dirty back alleys. They an less than dirt beneath my shoe."
"I see," I said evenly. "Anything else you'd like to share about your true feelings?"
"Yes—tell your friend Isabelle Ashworth to prepare herself. Once my family finalizes our arrangent with the Ashworths, she'll learn what it ans to be a proper woman to a Blackthorne man. And you?" His voice dropped to a nacing whisper. "You'll be a distant, unpleasant mory she'll forget as I bed her."
My knuckles turned white from gripping the phone. Stay calm. This is exactly what you wanted.
"Thank you for clarifying your position," I said, my voice betraying none of my rage. "I'll be sure to rember this conversation."
"Rember it from your grave," he snarled before hanging up.
I imdiately dialed another number.
"Nia? It's Liam Knight. I have sothing you'll want to hear."
---
The next morning, The Warrior's Scroll's hopage featured a bombshell headline:
"BLACKTHORNE HEIR REVEALS TRUE COLORS: 'PROMISES TO COMMONERS AN NOTHING'"
The full recording of Dashiell's tirade played beneath the article written by star reporter Nia Langley. His disparaging comnts about martial artists, his threats, his dismissal of public oaths—all preserved in his own arrogant voice.
The comnts section exploded:
"Is this how the great Blackthorne family keeps their word?"
"They think we're 'insignificant ants'? Let's show them what ants can do when they work together!"
"Boycott all Blackthorne businesses! Hit them where it hurts!"
By afternoon, the story had jumped to mainstream news sites. The Blackthorne PR team issued a desperate statent claiming the recording was manipulated, but voice analysis experts quickly confird its authenticity.
Cultivation forums across the country buzzed with outrage. Even wealthy practitioners expressed disgust at Dashiell's naked contempt for his word and the martial community.
I smiled as I scrolled through the fallout. Let Dashiell co to Havenwood now—he'd be walking into a city that already despised him.
--- Contentfirstreleasedon*.
In Veridia City, Dashiell Blackthorne hurled an antique vase against the wall of his private study.
"Delete it!" he scread at his assistant. "Pay whatever it takes! Threaten whoever you must! I want that recording gone!"
"Young Master, it's already been downloaded thousands of tis," the assistant replied nervously. "Even if we take down the original, copies are everywhere."
"Then find Liam Knight and silence him permanently!" Dashiell roared.
"But sir, that would only confirm the public's worst—"
"I don't care!" Dashiell swept the contents of his desk onto the floor in a violent crash. "He humiliated ! ! Do you understand what that ans?"
The assistant backed away as Dashiell continued his rampage.
"My father will hear about this," Dashiell seethed. "The full might of the Blackthorne family will crush this insect. I'll make him beg for death before I'm finished!"
A quiet knock interrupted his tirade.
"WHAT?" he bellowed.
A steward entered, bowing deeply. "Young Master, the old master wishes to see you imdiately."
Dashiell froze mid-motion. The old master—his grandfather, the true power behind the Blackthorne empire.
"He... he's heard about this?" Dashiell asked, his voice suddenly small.
The steward nodded grimly. "Yes, Young Master. He's waiting in the ancestral hall. He said to co at once."
All color drained from Dashiell's face. His grandfather's wrath was legendary—and now it would be directed at him.
Reviews
All reviews (0)