The Grand Magus In Murim

Chapter 7: The Unseen Guardian

The carriage wheels rattled violently against the uneven cobblestones of Qinghe City, the wooden frame protesting the reckless speed. Inside the lavishly decorated cabin, the atmosphere was thick with a tense, suffocating silence. Patriarch Zhao gripped the velvet armrests, his knuckles white, his chest heaving with indignant rage. His grand entrance had been ruined, his authority completely undermined.

Sitting across from him, Master Ma did not look like the arrogant martial artist who had just kicked open the doors of the Ling Manor. The scarred man was slumped against the wooden paneling, his complexion sickly pale. Beads of cold sweat rolled down his forehead, soaking into the collar of his gray robes. His breathing was shallow and erratic, as if he had just sprinted up a mountain.

"Master Ma," Patriarch Zhao finally hissed, unable to contain his fury any longer. "What is the meaning of this? You are a martial artist from the Iron Gale Sect! We had Ling Zhenghai cornered! Why did we run away like beaten dogs?"

Master Ma slowly lifted his head. The fierce scar on his jaw twitched as he glared at the merchant. "You arrogant fool," Ma rasped, his voice trembling with lingering dread. "You have no idea how close we just came to dying in that dining hall."

Patriarch Zhao blinked, his anger momentarily faltering in the face of the martial artist's genuine terror. "Dying? From what? The Ling family guards are incompetent. Ling Zhenghai is a mere merchant. There was no one else in that room besides his sickly son and his weeping wife!"

"That is exactly what makes it so terrifying!" Master Ma snapped, leaning forward. He raised a shaking hand, clenching it into a fist. "When I released my aura to suppress Ling Zhenghai, I used fifty percent of my qi. It was enough to crush a mortal's willpower. But before it could even touch them, it hit a wall."

Zhao frowned in confusion. "A wall?"

"An absolute, unyielding wall of energy," Ma whispered, his eyes widening as he recalled the sensation. "It did not just block my aura. It shattered it. The pressure I felt in that split second was incomprehensible. It was ancient. Heavy. It carried a suffocating intent that made my very soul feel like an insect standing beneath a descending mountain. Whoever cast that invisible defense didn't even bother to show themselves. They merely negated my power as easily as pinching out a candle flame."

Patriarch Zhao’s face finally lost its color. In the world of the Jianghu, hidden experts were legends spoken of in hushed, fearful tones. Eccentric masters who walked the mortal world in disguise, wiping out entire clans who offended them.

"Are you saying... the Ling family is harboring a supreme master?" Zhao asked, his voice suddenly small.

"Either that, or an old monster was passing through and took pity on them," Master Ma replied, wiping his brow. "Regardless, we are suspending all aggressions against the Ling Merchant House immediately. I will write to my master at the Iron Gale Sect. Until the sect investigates this unseen guardian, you will not touch a single wagon of Ling silk. Do you understand?"

Patriarch Zhao swallowed hard and nodded. The eastern trade routes were valuable, but they were not worth the wrath of an invisible god.

Back in the dining hall of the Ling Manor, the heavy oak doors remained wide open, framing the quiet morning courtyard. A gentle breeze swept into the room, rustling the untouched silk napkins on the redwood table.

Ling Zhenghai slowly collapsed back into his chair. His legs had finally given out. He rested his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands, drawing in long, shaky breaths. Madam Xu remained frozen in her seat, her hand still clutching her chest, her eyes darting toward the empty doorway.

"They... they left?" Madam Xu whispered, breaking the dead silence.

The Ling family guards, who had been pushed aside during the intrusion, slowly picked themselves up from the floor. They exchanged bewildered glances, thoroughly confused as to why the terrifying martial artist had suddenly turned pale and fled.

"I do not understand," Ling Zhenghai muttered, looking up. He wiped a sheen of sweat from his forehead. "Zhao had the absolute advantage. Master Ma's aura... it was crushing us. And then, it simply vanished. He looked as though he had seen a ghost."

Tianyu sat quietly on the opposite side of the table. He picked up his wooden chopsticks, reached across the lavish spread, and picked up a piece of steamed fish. He brought it to his mouth and chewed slowly, his expression entirely placid.

"Perhaps," Tianyu said, his voice calm and clear amidst the lingering tension, "Master Ma remembered he left his stove burning at home."

Ling Zhenghai stared at his son, utterly baffled by his relaxed demeanor. "Tianyu, this is not a joking matter. We were moments away from being forced to sign away half our livelihood. Something frightened that man away. Something deeply unnatural."

Madam Xu reached out and gently touched her husband’s arm. "Could it be the heavens showing mercy? Or perhaps the ancestors protecting this household?"

"The Jianghu does not operate on mercy," Zhenghai replied grimly, though he had no better explanation. "We must increase the guards immediately. Send word to the city governor. We will pay whatever tax he demands for temporary asylum."

As his parents frantically began to plan their survival, Ling Tianyu took a sip of his warm tea. His face remained an unreadable mask, but his ancient mind was already calculating his next steps.

His intervention had worked, but it had exposed a critical weakness. The Tier One Mana Shield, modified for qi, was incredibly efficient at negating spiritual pressure. However, if Master Ma had thrown a physical punch instead of relying on a crude aura, Tianyu’s frail, recovering body would not have been able to withstand the kinetic impact. His first circle was stable, but his physical vessel was terribly weak.

To cast higher-tier magic, spells that could freeze blood or shatter steel, he needed a stronger foundation. He could not rely purely on the ambient qi of the courtyard to temper his flesh. It was too slow.

I need resources, Aurelius Constance thought, looking at the tea leaves settling at the bottom of his cup. Spirit herbs. Demonic beast cores. Alchemical pills. Whatever this world uses to accelerate physical evolution, I must acquire it.

Tianyu gently set his teacup down, interrupting his father's frantic orders to the guards.

"Father," Tianyu said smoothly. "Now that the immediate danger has passed, I have a request."

Ling Zhenghai paused, looking at his newly awakened son. "Anything, Tianyu. Name it."

"My body is still weak from the long slumber," Tianyu stated, his tone perfectly matching that of a concerned young master. "I believe I am ready to visit the city markets. I wish to inspect the medicinal halls and procure some herbs for my recovery."

Ling Zhenghai and Madam Xu exchanged a look of relief. After the morning's terrifying events, their son taking an active interest in his health was a profound comfort.

"Of course," his father agreed without hesitation. "Take whatever silver you need."

Tianyu smiled faintly. The storm had been delayed, but he would ensure that when it finally broke, the Grand Magus would be the one controlling the lightning.