7
1698 Words
The air in the room felt thin as I sat cross-legged, the weight of the silver sword across my knees acting as an anchor in a world that felt increasingly surreal. Eleven years. That was the countdown etched into my mind. I had exactly eleven years before the marriage alliance that served as the catalyst for my original downfall in the novel. To the world, I was a blind, four-year-old child—a pawn in the game of empires. But in the shadows of this mansion, I was already building a fortress that would eventually swallow the Vermilion Empire whole.
"Thor, I need this handled with absolute precision," I said, my voice projecting a cold authority that belied my small frame.
Thor, standing like a monolithic statue of iron and blood, bowed his head. "I should be able to finish the mission within two days, my Lord. The bandits who hold the children are vermin; they will not see the blade until it is through their throats."
Ren, ever the pragmatist, stepped forward from the shadows. "Lord, I have already compiled the list of goods that the Secluded Spiritual Beast tribes may require. They possess herbs of legendary quality and Spirit Stones of a purity unseen in human markets. If we establish this trade now, our training resources will be limitless. We won't just be buying their friendship; we will be fueling our own ascension."
I leaned back, my fingers brushing the hilt of the sword. I reached into my inventory and pulled out a heavy, jade-encrusted token. "Ren, take this. It contains 50,000 golden coins, a gift given to me by the Empress Dowager. It is my only liquid asset of this scale. Use it to buy every item on your list—pills, medicine, refined ores. Anything they need. Also, assist Thor in securing an inconspicuous mansion on the outskirts of the city. It must be isolated enough to house... unusual guests. You have forty-eight hours."
"Yes, my Lord," they chimed in unison. In a blur of speed and shadow, the room was empty.
Left alone, I closed my eyes and let my mind wander through the chapters of the novel I had once read. My knowledge was my greatest weapon. I knew the locations of "Unknown Spiritual Lands" where the Qi was so thick it manifested as liquid. I knew the skeletons in the closets of the continent's most powerful clans. Specifically, right here in the Secluded State, there was a hidden paradise—a Rich Spiritual Land veiled by a complex illusion formation. I knew its general coordinates, but the formation was a masterpiece of ancient geometry. To unlock it, I would either need a master of formations or enough strength to dominate the sky and claim its core.
"But first," I whispered, "I must become a vessel worthy of that power."
I drew the sword, the metallic ring singing in the quiet room. For the next two days, I did not sleep. I performed the 'Sword Ritual' until my muscles screamed, using every ounce of my focus to refine my talent and inch closer to the Sword Maniac’s Inheritance.
***
Two days later, the air in my room rippled as the trio returned. Thor’s crimson armor was slightly darker, smelling of iron and damp earth.
"Everything is according to the plan, Lord," Thor reported, his voice low. "The cages are broken. We saved fifteen children, eight unhatched eggs, and three adults. They are currently sequestered at the mansion on the corner of the city."
I turned my head toward the direction he pointed. Even with my High Senses, I couldn't perceive the location; it was well beyond my two-kilometer limit. The scale of this city was truly gargantuan.
Ren stepped forward, her golden eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "The supplies have been secured. I used multiple shell companies and intermediaries to buy the pills and medicines. No one will be able to trace these purchases back to the 9th Prince’s mansion."
"Well done," I said, standing up. My small body felt light, energized by the ritual. "Let’s not keep our guests waiting. Thor, take me there."
Thor lifted me onto his massive shoulder as if I weighed no more than a feather. With a single, silent leap, we soared through the window and into the cool night air. We blurred through the city, bypassing the main streets and moving like ghosts over the rooftops. Minutes later, we arrived at a small, weathered mansion tucked away in a grove of ancient trees.
As I stepped inside, the atmosphere changed instantly. The air was thick with primal, ancient energy. In the center of the hall stood several figures. Three of them were massive—Spiritual Beasts who had taken demi-human forms but still radiated the raw power of the wild. Surrounding them were huddling toddlers with tails and ears, and several glowing eggs nestled in straw.
The adults watched me with a calm, predatory gaze. I didn't flinch. I walked to the center of the room, standing tall despite my height.
"Greetings," I said, my voice clear. "I am Liam Von Vermilion, the 9th Prince of the Vermilion Empire and the Governor of the Secluded State."
A towering figure with blue-tinted fur and eyes like frozen lakes stepped forward. "Greetings, young one. I am known as the Elder White Tyrant Bear. You may call me Old White. We have been informed by the honorable Lord Kurma that you were the architect of our rescue. We, the Secluded Spiritual Beast tribesmen, live by a simple code: we never forget a favor. If you wish for anything, ask, and it shall be paid back ten-thousand-fold."
I shook my head, offering a small, genuine smile. "Old White, I did nothing worthy of such thanks. As the Governor, it is my sworn duty to protect those within my borders. You are my citizens, and the bandits were criminals on my land. My responsibility is to protect you, not to collect favors."
The room went deathly silent.
"Hmm... what an interesting human!" A massive red turtle, his shell etched with glowing runes, stepped forward. "You refer to us as 'citizens'? In all my centuries, I have only heard humans call us 'ingredients' or 'pests'. Old White, I think I’ve lived too long; I’m starting to imagine things."
"You aren't imagining it, Old Turtle," a giant black wolf interjected, his voice like velvet over gravel. He sniffed the air around me, his eyes narrowing. "This boy... his aura is clean. There is no scent of hostility, no stench of greed. He is like a blank sheet of white paper. Actually, it is more than that. I feel a resonance from him—a righteous sword aura similar to that old eccentric we met in our youth... the disciple of the Sword Maniac. But this boy's aura is even purer. He knows no evil."
Old White’s eyes widened. He looked at the wolf, then back at me, his posture shifting from defensive to respectful. "Prince Liam... please forgive our initial coldness. These two are my closest companions, known as Old Turtle and Old Black. Old Black has lived for nine hundred years and has never praised a human in his life. His sensitivity to auras is legendary."
"It is an honor to meet you all," I said, though I was inwardly reeling. The mention of the Sword Maniac’s disciple confirmed that my path was the right one. "But why were you confined? With your strength, you should have been able to leave whenever you wished."
Old White’s eyes turned a simmering red. "The vermin who kidn*pped our young used a cowardly trap. They unleashed a poisonous fog designed specifically for our kind—a toxin that seals our cultivation during the critical moments of a breakthrough. We were vulnerable. But their ignorance was their undoing. They didn't realize that for elders of the Eighth Stage, such poison only lasts three months. We would have been free soon enough."
"So... our efforts were redundant?" I asked, letting out a small, self-deprecating laugh. These were monsters of the Eighth Stage. They were walking natural disasters.
Old Turtle smiled, his face wrinkling like an ancient map. "We old fossils would have survived, yes. But these children... these eggs... they would not have lasted another month in those cages. You saved our future, Prince Liam. For that, my heart weeps with gratitude." Tears actually began to stream down the giant turtle's face as he wailed about the safety of the toddlers.
"Shut up, you emotional old bag!" Old Black barked, swatting the turtle on the back of the head. "You’re a disgrace to the Elders Hall! Where is your dignity?"
The three elders immediately devolved into a bickering match, forgetting my presence entirely as they argued like old siblings. I stood there, watching the scene with a mix of amusement and relief.
"I can see you are all very close," I laughed, breaking their argument. "I heard your tribe requires resources. Ren here has prepared medicine and pills as a gift—a sign of our budding friendship. Please, accept them."
Old White looked troubled, shaking his massive head. "Prince Liam, you have already done too much. We cannot simply take these. In our culture, there is no such thing as a 'friendship gift' that goes unreturned. You are already a friend of the tribe. We will exchange spirit stones and rare herbs with Miss Ren to ensure this is a fair trade."
Old Black stepped forward, his head held high. "Do not insult us by suggesting we take advantage of a friend! We are proud tribesmen. If you need a mountain moved, you ask us. If you need a city razed, you ask us. That is what friendship means to us!"
Old Turtle wiped his eyes and smiled at me. "Cute boy... ahem, I mean Prince Liam! Today marks the dawn of a new era. If you ever have need of us, simply call. The Secluded Spiritual Beasts are your allies."
I smiled, feeling the 'Beast's Handshake' mission notification flicker in my mind. The first pillar of my secret empire had just been bolted into place.
- Writer
