The-Chrysanthemum-Codex：Ash's-Ascension

Chapter 9: The Chrysanthemum's Inner Power

Although Ash had intentionally taken the blow, he had no qualms about pinning the blame squarely on Chalman.

Gritting his teeth, Ash lifted his head, his face contorted in a mix of pain and fury. His expression was twisted, almost grotesque, as he pointed a trembling finger at Chalman and shouted, "Chalman! How dare you strike the son of the Deputy Commander of the Imperial General Staff, a direct descendant of the Holy Light Dou Saint! I'll see you burn at the stake for this!"

Chalman inwardly cursed himself. He hadn't expected Paru—a noble, no less—to take a beating in place of a wretched commoner. Although the lash had merely grazed him, it would still require an explanation to the Holy Church. But to be reprimanded by a fool known as the "Shame of the Rudolf Family" was something Chalman could not tolerate.

With a c***k of his whip, Chalman lashed the air, creating a sharp, menacing sound. "Paru, I too am a descendant of a Titled Dou Saint, of the Storm Dou Saint, Aruba! If you have any shred of honor as a fellow descendant, challenge me to a duel! I'll be waiting!"

"Hmph!" Ash snorted. He had no intention of challenging Chalman to a duel; after all, Chalman was a genuine Second Level Dou Fighter. "Chalman, you’re truly shameless! You know I can’t cultivate Dou Qi, yet you try to deceive me into a duel! Today!" He gestured toward the crowd gathered before the church, his voice rising, "These hundreds of witnesses can attest to your disgraceful behavior!"

"You..." Chalman's face flushed with anger, but he couldn't find a rebuttal. All he could do was hurl his whip to the ground in frustration.

At that moment, old Matthew, finally recovering from his shock, looked at the lash marks on Ash’s back, his eyes welling with tears. "Praise Young Master Paru! Your kindness rivals that of Saint Rollin himself!"

The onlookers joined in with words of admiration, some even pausing to offer prayers before the statue of Saint Rollin atop the church. "Is this the so-called Shame of the Rudolf Family? Who said he was a fool? By all the Dou Saints, he is a noble young man of the highest order!"

For the people of St. Ironspire City, a nobleman taking a beating in place of commoners was an act beyond comprehension.

But Ash hadn’t done it for their praise. He swore to himself—it was all for the sake of cultivating the "Chrysanthemum Codex."

The more the crowd lauded Ash, the darker Chalman’s expression grew. He snarled, "Paru, after our fight yesterday, I noticed my Artifact was missing. You’re the most likely suspect!"

Suspect? More like the culprit, Ash thought wryly, the Artifact still tucked safely in his pocket. Yet he responded with righteous indignation, "Chalman, how dare you insult the honor of the Holy Light Dou Saint’s lineage! Would a descendant of Saint Rollin stoop to such thievery?"

"Indeed! Young Master Paru is a man of honor; how could he possibly be a thief?" The crowd echoed Ash’s words. They didn’t know much about Chalman, but they had just witnessed Paru’s noble deed with their own eyes.

"Chalman, you are a nobleman, a descendant of the Storm Dou Saint Aruba, but you must not falsely accuse a good man!"

"Alas, both are descendants of Titled Dou Saints, yet the difference in character is so vast!"

"…………"

"Silence!" Chalman roared, his whip snapping as he pointed it at the crowd. "You commoners dare to challenge a descendant of a Titled Dou Saint? I'll have you all sent to the stake if you continue this insolence!"

The crowd fell silent, but a nearby city guard officer spoke up, "Young Master Chalman, your Ram's Horn Hammer is a Third Level plant-based Artifact. To force it to recognize a new master would require a Ninth Level Dou Saint with a matching attribute. However, Duke Raymond of the Rudolf family is only an Eighth Level Dou Saint, and his attribute is fire…"

Chalman shot the officer a cold glare. "What are you implying?"

"I'm saying it couldn’t have been the Rudolf family. Even if they had stolen it, they couldn’t use it! I suspect a wandering Ninth Level Dou Saint passed through St. Ironspire City and found your Artifact."

Chalman knew the officer made sense; it was unlikely that Paru had stolen the Artifact. But after the humiliation Ash had put him through, this was the only pretext he had left to attack him.

Ash, meanwhile, found himself liking this officer more and more. So, the Artifact he had stolen was called the Ram's Horn Hammer, and it was a Third Level one at that!

Ah, if only he had Dou Qi—then he could actually use it!

Suddenly, Ash felt a strange sensation in the chrysanthemum tattoo on his left buttock, a tingling itch that quickly became unbearable. At first, he thought nothing of it; after all, he had just done a good deed, and the Codex’s reaction was expected. But the itch grew more intense, more insistent, until Ash could hardly stand it.

In the eyes of the onlookers, however, his strained expression looked like the face of a young nobleman who had endured great suffering and was now struggling to hold back tears. To them, Chalman’s actions were nothing short of despicable!

Chalman could feel the weight of the crowd’s disapproval. Though they said nothing, the hundreds of eyes staring at him were filled with contempt. Realizing he had no choice but to back down, Chalman gritted his teeth. "Fine, Paru. I have to continue searching for my Artifact. I won’t argue with you today."

With that, he prepared to leave.

But Ash wasn’t done. He fixed Chalman with a defiant glare, his voice ringing with righteous indignation. "Chalman, you suspect me? Come on, I’m standing right here—you can search me!"

Chalman hesitated, then sneered. "Are you trying to set me up? Without permission from the Holy Church or His Majesty, searching a descendant of a Titled Dou Saint is a crime punishable by the stake!"

He let out a mocking laugh. "Fine, I admit it. It couldn’t have been you who stole my Artifact. After all, you’re the shame of the Rudolf family—you can’t even cultivate Dou Qi, let alone force a Third Level Artifact to recognize you as its master! What a joke!"

With that, Chalman hurried away, leaving Ash to smirk inwardly. Is the art of theft so primitive on the Roland Continent? Unlocking an Artifact was child’s play—yet its owners seem so confident that only a true expert could force it to recognize a new master!

But then it dawned on Ash. The art of lockpicking was rooted in understanding the lock’s mechanism. On the Roland Continent, no one had ever dismantled an Artifact to study its workings, so no one knew how to pick its lock.

Heh, it seems my skills will be in high demand here!

As Ash indulged in these thoughts, the itching on his buttock intensified to the point of agony. Unable to bear it any longer, he turned to old Matthew and said, "Matthew, it seems the city guards are all out today. We’ll come back tomorrow! Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get your compensation!"

With that, Ash sprinted away, desperate to find some privacy. His buttocks were on fire.

Old Matthew watched Ash’s retreating figure with gratitude, then turned to the crowd and said, "Did you see that? I saw the same noble virtues that the great Dou Saints displayed a thousand years ago! Young Master Paru is not the fool of St. Ironspire City—he is the virtue of St. Ironspire City!!! Oh, but now virtue needs to use the bathroom! Uh, do you think his stomach is upset?"

Ash finally found refuge in a small, bunker-like public restroom on the side of the road. Locking the door behind him, he quickly stripped off his pants and stared at his buttocks in astonishment.

It had bloomed! After taking the beating in old Matthew’s place, he had finally accumulated enough good deeds to make the first chrysanthemum bloom on his tattoo!

"I’ve finally mastered the first level of the ‘Chrysanthemum Codex’!" Ash was ecstatic.

The thirty-six flower buds on his buttocks were now a brilliant gold, with the first bud on the Qian Trigram fully blossomed. The delicate petals shimmered with a dewy freshness, signifying that Ash had taken a significant step closer to his ultimate goal.

A mix of emotions washed over him—relief, joy, and even a touch of bitterness. Reflecting on the good deeds he had done, Ash realized that in his previous life, it had taken him decades of small acts—helping old ladies cross the street, turning in lost wallets—to accumulate enough karma. He had even sacrificed his life to save someone. And now, after all that, plus taking a beating today, he had only managed to bloom one chrysanthemum.

Sighing, Ash mused that the only consolation was that the Codex only counted the good deeds he had done, not the bad ones. This had allowed him, a self-proclaimed master thief, to find some semblance of enjoyment in life.

No matter how you looked at it, he had completed one thirty-sixth of his journey!

As Ash chuckled to himself, the itching sensation on his buttock abruptly ceased, replaced by a gentle warmth that spread across the area.

The feeling was akin to that of a martial artist cultivating inner energy.

Ash blinked in surprise, recalling that Amon had once mentioned that the "Chrysanthemum Codex" offered many benefits, which he would gradually experience as he progressed.

Could this warmth be one of those benefits?

Focusing on the sensation, Ash guided the warmth to his right hand—the hand that was not only skilled at stealing but also at picking locks.

The warmth obeyed, flowing from his buttocks to his right hand, filling it with a sudden surge of power.

Ash clenched his right fist, testing its newfound strength by striking the stone wall beside him. With a dull thud, the wall cracked under the force, leaving a one-inch-deep imprint.

"Interesting!" Ash grinned, then channeled the warmth to his index and middle fingers, flicking them through the air.

A fly buzzing nearby was instantly caught between his fingers.

"My God, if I use this for stealing… I’m going to be rich!"

The warmth not only increased his speed and strength but also enhanced his control—small, yet potent, it was a force to be reckoned with.

Ash laughed, finally feeling the rewards of his efforts. But, ever cautious, he carefully smoothed over the damage he had caused to the wall before putting his pants back on.

As he did so, he felt the weight of the metal orb—the Third Level Ram’s Horn Hammer—in his pocket.

A thought struck him: the "Chrysanthemum Codex" was Amon’s celestial technique. Could this newfound inner strength surpass the Dou Qi of the Roland Continent?

With this in mind, Ash retrieved the metal orb and applied his newfound chrysanthemum inner energy to the Ram’s Horn Hammer.

This time, the hammer moved, landing lightly in Ash’s hand, as if it weighed nothing.

Immediately, a green light flared from the hammer, traveling up its handle and into Ash’s mind.

"In the name of Aruba, you are now my master!"

The hammer had no mouth, yet Ash distinctly heard a voice—a deep, ancient voice, echoing in his mind, as if calling to him from across the ages.

"My name is Aruba, the Storm Ram’s Horn Hammer. I shall grant you the power of the wind, born from plants—speed, strength, and ferocity. When you need my aid…"

The hammer’s voice trailed off as it continued to relay detailed instructions on its use. Following the directions, Ash withdrew his chrysanthemum energy, and the hammer reverted to its orb form. This time, instead of unlocking it through thievery, he carefully channeled his energy into the orb’s four tiny keyholes. Instantly, the orb transformed back into the Ram’s Horn Hammer, now under Ash’s complete control.

Each swing of the hammer felt light, yet carried the weight of a thousand pounds, slicing through the air with a force that seemed almost unnatural.

In that moment, Ash realized that he had not only "stolen" the Ram’s Horn Hammer but had also won its loyalty.

A satisfied grin spread across his face as a new question formed in his mind: What level of power did he now possess?

"I hope my brother didn’t go to another one of those banquets to chase after girls!"

Having mastered the first level of the "Chrysanthemum Codex" and gained the loyalty of the Ram’s Horn Hammer, Ash was in high spirits. He wasn’t in a hurry to do more good deeds just yet. Instead, he jogged back home, enjoying the ease with which his newfound inner energy propelled him forward.

The tiny stream of energy seemed endless, a source of strength that never wavered, a reservoir that could be drawn upon without fear of depletion.

But when Ash arrived home, he was disappointed to find that Lumian had indeed gone to another banquet. He had hoped to ask his brother about the power levels of the Dou Saints to gauge his own strength. But with his cold father and detestable second brother out of the question, and the family’s warriors eyeing him strangely, Ash decided to set aside his curiosity for the time being and returned to his tower.