"That's the terrifying truth, Liam Knight. They don't."
The Man with the Mustache's words hung heavy in the dusty air of the storage building. I felt my jaw tighten as I processed this information.
"There must be a way," I insisted. "Every beast has a weakness."
He twirled his mustache nervously. "Well, theoretically... you'd need to be at least one major realm above it. And even then, I wouldn't bet on your survival."
I paced the small space, mind racing. "So, I'd need to reach the Martial Saint realm to have a chance against him?"
"Essentially." He edged toward the door. "Now, if you'll excuse —"
"Not so fast." I blocked his path. "You know more than you're telling ."
The Man with the Mustache sighed dramatically. "I've already risked too much speaking with you. Do you have any idea what kind of danger I'm in?"
"Join the club," I retorted. "What else do you know about the Heaven Swallowing Python?"
He glanced around nervously before leaning in. "Rumors say it can absorb the techniques and abilities of those it consus. If true, Broderick has centuries of accumulated skills from countless martial artists."
Great. As if he wasn't already terrifying enough.
"There's sothing else you should know," he added, his voice dropping even lower. "The Frostfall Sanctum has been asking questions about your little friend."
My blood ran cold. "Clara?"
He nodded. "They seem quite interested in a young girl with a pure dark energy body. Can't imagine why." His tone suggested he knew exactly why.
"What do they want with her?"
"Nothing pleasant, I assure you." He adjusted his ridiculous cape. "If I were you, I'd get her sowhere safe. Quickly."
The Veridia City Martial Guild. Despite everything, it was probably the safest place for Clara right now. No one would dare snatch her from under their noses, not even the Frostfall Sanctum.
"I need to go," I said abruptly, turning toward the door.
The Man with the Mustache grabbed my arm. "One more thing. I hear the academy is making an announcent today. Sothing important."
Before I could question him further, a bell rang throughout the campus.
"Assembly," he said, releasing my grip. "Perfect timing. Now we can blend with the crowd."
We slipped out of the storage building separately. Students and teachers were already streaming toward the central pavilion. I followed, keeping my head down while scanning for any sign of Broderick or other threats.
In the pavilion, I positioned myself near the back, where I could observe everyone while maintaining a clear path to the exit. The Man with the Mustache had vanished, no doubt slithering off to whatever hole he'd been hiding in.
Ms. Hayward ascended the stage, her purple robes immaculate as always. The crowd fell silent imdiately.
"Students of the Celestial Academy," she began, her voice carrying effortlessly across the pavilion. "I have an important announcent regarding the upcoming sester."
I watched her carefully, noting the subtle satisfaction in her expression. Always read from the source: *.
"The first Mystic Realm will open in exactly half a month from today," she continued. "Only students who have achieved the Military General realm or higher will be permitted entry. This is for your own safety."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Half a month. The exact sa ti the Ten Thousand Years Divine dicine was set to appear.
Coincidence? Not likely.
Ms. Hayward continued outlining safety protocols and preparation guidelines, but my mind was already racing ahead. This was deliberate. She was creating a scheduling conflict to thin the competition for the divine dicine.
When the assembly ended, I lingered, watching as Ms. Hayward descended from the stage. I approached her before she could leave.
"Ms. Hayward," I said, bowing respectfully. "May I ask you sothing about the Mystic Realm?"
She regarded coolly. "Mr. Knight. What is your question?"
"The timing seems to coincide with another significant event," I said carefully. "The appearance of the Ten Thousand Years Divine dicine."
Sothing flickered in her eyes—surprise that I knew about it, perhaps.
"Many events occur in our world, Mr. Knight," she replied smoothly. "We cannot arrange our schedule around all of them."
"Of course," I said, matching her tone. "I simply wondered if this was taken into consideration."
Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "Your concern for your fellow students is comndable. Rest assured, the academy's decisions are made with careful deliberation."
In other words: Yes, it was deliberate, and no, she wouldn't admit it.
"Thank you for your ti," I said, bowing again.
As I turned to leave, she added, "Mr. Knight, I hope you're focusing on your studies rather than... extracurricular pursuits."
A warning, thinly veiled.
"Always, Ms. Hayward," I replied, keeping my face neutral. "Knowledge is power, after all."
Her eyes narrowed slightly before she nodded and walked away.
I returned to my quarters, mind churning with new information and growing suspicions. I needed to make a decision: pursue the Ten Thousand Years Divine dicine or enter the Mystic Realm. Both offered power I desperately needed, but I couldn't be in two places at once.
The divine dicine would provide an imdiate boost to my cultivation, potentially advancing multiple stages in a short ti. The Mystic Realm offered unknown treasures and opportunities, but with greater risk.
After weighing my options, the choice beca clear. The divine dicine was the more certain path to power, and ti was sothing I didn't have.
That evening, I sought out The Man with the Mustache again. I found him in the academy's library, surrounded by ancient scrolls and fawning female students.
He blanched when he saw approaching.
"Ladies," he said to his admirers, "would you mind giving a mont with my... colleague?"
They dispersed reluctantly, casting curious glances my way.
"Twice in one day," he hissed once they were out of earshot. "Are you trying to get killed?"
"I need information," I said, sitting across from him. "About reviving corpses."
His eyebrows shot up. "I beg your pardon?"
"The two corpses I acquired from the tomb," I clarified, keeping my voice low. "Is there a way to temporarily revive them? I could use their help."
The Man with the Mustache looked genuinely alard. "Have you lost your mind? Those aren't just any corpses—they're the remains of Martial Saints!"
"Exactly why I need them," I said. "Against enemies like Broderick, I need every advantage."
He shook his head vigorously. "Even if it were possible—which I'm not saying it is—the energy required would be astronomical. And controlling them? Nearly impossible."
"But not completely impossible," I pressed.
He glanced around nervously. "There are... thods. Ancient, forbidden techniques that might work. But the risk would be extre. If you lost control of them, even for a mont..."
He drew a finger across his throat dramatically.
"I understand the risk," I said. "But considering what I'm up against, it may be worth it."
The Man with the Mustache studied for a long mont. "You've changed, Liam Knight. There's a darkness in you that wasn't there before."
I didn't deny it. My ti at the academy, my encounters with increasingly powerful enemies, and Isabelle's continued captivity had hardened sothing inside .
"Will you help or not?" I asked directly.
He sighed heavily. "Not with this. So lines shouldn't be crossed."
I nodded, accepting his decision. "Then perhaps you can help with sothing else. I need to enter the Mystic Realm before it officially opens."
His eyes widened. "That's... actually more impossible than reviving the corpses."
"I doubt that," I said. "The realm exists sowhere on academy grounds, sealed but present. There must be a way to access it early."
"Even if there were," he replied, leaning forward, "why would I help you commit what amounts to suicide? The realm is sealed for a reason. Without proper preparation and timing, you'd be torn apart by the chaotic energies within."
I considered my next move carefully. The Man with the Mustache valued information above all else. Perhaps a trade was in order.
"What if I offered you sothing in exchange?" I suggested. "A secret few people know."
His interest visibly piqued. "What kind of secret?"
"Information about a hidden chamber beneath the academy," I said, dangling the bait. "One that contains artifacts from before the Great Cataclysm."
This wasn't entirely a lie. During my explorations with my divine sense, I'd detected sothing unusual deep beneath the academy—a sealed space that seed to predate the buildings above it.
The Man with the Mustache leaned closer, his eyes gleaming with avarice. "And you've seen these artifacts yourself?"
"I've sensed the chamber," I admitted. "But I need more power to break its seals. Power I could gain from early access to the Mystic Realm."
He tugged at his mustache thoughtfully, clearly weighing the potential treasure against the risk of helping .
"Let consider this proposition," he said finally. "If—and I stress if—I decide to help you, my price would be not just information about this chamber, but a full partnership in its exploration."
"Agreed," I said without hesitation. I needed allies, even self-serving ones like him.
He opened his mouth to continue, but sothing over my shoulder caught his eye. His face drained of color.
"What is it?" I asked, tensing to face whatever threat had appeared.
But The Man with the Mustache didn't answer. In a blur of movent, he snatched up his scrolls and bolted past , disappearing between the library shelves with remarkable speed.
I turned, expecting to see Broderick or perhaps Ms. Hayward, but saw only a cloaked figure at the library entrance. Their face was hidden in shadow, but sothing about their posture seed familiar.
Before I could get a better look, the figure turned and walked away, leaving with unanswered questions and a growing sense of unease.
Whatever had frightened The Man with the Mustache was clearly dangerous—and now I was left alone to face it.
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