The Grand Magus In Murim

Chapter 6: A Gathering Storm

Morning sunlight pierced the paper windows of the eastern courtyard, casting long shadows across the wooden floor. Ling Tianyu sat perfectly still upon his bed, breathing in slow, measured rhythms. Within his chest, the newly formed first circle rotated with a comforting hum. The raw, dense qi of the world flowed into his body, passing through his modified meridians before settling into the boundless depths of his dantian. He had spent the remaining hours of the night stabilizing his foundation. There was no fatigue. Only a profound, quiet strength.

A hesitant knock at the door broke his concentration.

"Young Master?" a soft voice called out. It was Xiaoyu, one of the courtyard maids. "The Master and Madam request your presence for the morning meal in the main hall."

"I will be right there," Tianyu replied, his voice calm.

He rose from the bed and smoothed the wrinkles from his plain silk robes. As he stepped out of his chamber, the crisp morning air brushed against his face. The Ling Manor was already bustling with activity, but as Tianyu walked along the stone paths toward the main hall, his sharpened senses picked up a subtle shift in the atmosphere. The servants moved with a hurried, anxious energy. The guards stationed at the intersections gripped the hilts of their swords a fraction tighter than usual.

When Tianyu entered the main hall, he found his parents seated at a large redwood table. The breakfast spread was lavish, yet neither Ling Zhenghai nor Madam Xu had touched their food. His father’s brow was deeply furrowed, and the dark circles under his eyes seemed more pronounced than they had been the night before.

"Father. Mother," Tianyu greeted, offering a respectful nod before taking his seat.

Madam Xu offered a strained smile. "Eat, Tianyu. You must regain your strength."

Ling Zhenghai remained silent for a long moment, staring into his teacup. Finally, he set it down with a heavy sigh. "There is no point in hiding it. He will hear the whispers from the servants anyway." He looked up, meeting his son's gaze. "We are facing a crisis, Tianyu. The Zhao Merchant House has made a move against our eastern trade routes."

Tianyu slowly picked up his chopsticks. He remembered the Zhao family from the fragmented memories of his predecessor. They were the Ling House's primary rivals in Qinghe City, ruthless in their business dealings but generally kept in check by the local governor's laws.

"Trade disputes are common," Tianyu noted quietly. "Why the sudden anxiety?"

"It is not just a dispute over coin," Ling Zhenghai replied, his voice tight. "The Zhao family’s eldest son recently returned from the capital. He has been accepted as an outer disciple of the Iron Gale Sect. With a martial sect backing them, the Zhao patriarch no longer cares about the governor's trade agreements. They intercepted our silk caravans last night. Our guards were beaten, and the goods were seized."

Madam Xu wrung her hands beneath the table. "They sent a message this morning. Patriarch Zhao is coming here personally to renegotiate the borders of our businesses. He is bringing a martial artist with him."

Before Tianyu could respond, heavy footsteps echoed from the courtyard outside. The main doors of the hall were pushed open with a forceful bang that made the wooden frames rattle.

An elderly man in opulent gold-trimmed robes strode into the room, a smug smile plastered across his wrinkled face. This was Patriarch Zhao. Walking right beside him was a man with a fierce scar across his jaw, dressed in gray martial robes. He did not carry a weapon, but the arrogant tilt of his chin and the heavy, suffocating aura rolling off his body announced his identity. A martial artist.

The guards of the Ling family rushed in behind them, looking pale and humiliated, having clearly failed to stop the intrusion.

"Ling Zhenghai!" Patriarch Zhao boomed, spreading his arms mockingly. "Forgive the early intrusion, but the matters of business simply could not wait."

Ling Zhenghai stood up, his face pale with suppressed anger. "Zhao. You dare force your way into my home?"

The scarred martial artist took a single step forward. He didn't speak, but he released his qi. A wave of heavy pressure swept across the dining hall. It was a crude, unrefined application of intent—designed merely to intimidate ordinary mortals.

The teacups on the table rattled. Madam Xu gasped, clutching her chest as she struggled to breathe against the invisible weight. Ling Zhenghai gritted his teeth, his knees trembling slightly as he tried to stand his ground to protect his wife.

Tianyu narrowed his eyes. The Grand Magus had faced the suffocating presence of dragons and the crushing auras of divine beings. This pathetic display of power felt like a gentle breeze.

Without standing, Tianyu casually reached out and tapped his index finger against the edge of his ceramic teacup.

Resonate.

He did not cast a full spell. Instead, he channeled a minuscule fraction of his qi through the first circle, harmonizing it with the principle of the Tier One Mana Shield. An invisible ripple of structured qi expanded outward from his finger.

The moment it collided with the martial artist’s oppressive aura, the crude pressure shattered like fragile glass.

The heavy atmosphere vanished instantly. The scarred martial artist stumbled backward, his eyes widening in shock. He looked frantically around the room, sensing the sudden, terrifying negation of his power, but finding no source. He could not comprehend structured magic. He only felt an absolute, unyielding wall of energy that had casually crushed his exertion.

"What... what was that?" the martial artist muttered, his previous arrogance entirely erased. He looked at Ling Zhenghai with newfound wariness, assuming a hidden expert was guarding the estate.

Patriarch Zhao, oblivious to the invisible clash, frowned at his hired muscle. "Master Ma? Is something wrong?"

"We are leaving," Master Ma hissed, turning on his heel. "The trade routes can wait." He dragged the bewildered Patriarch Zhao out of the hall, fleeing the manor as quickly as they had arrived.

Ling Zhenghai and Madam Xu exchanged bewildered glances, entirely unsure of what had just transpired.

Ling Tianyu quietly took a bite of a steamed bun, his expression calm and unreadable. He needed more resources. The first circle was not enough. To protect this peace, the Grand Magus would have to enter the world of martial artists much sooner than he had anticipated.