Lastly, after handing them their items, Senior Brother Han shared what he called a 'small message'. Though concise in wording, the weight behind it was anything but light. He said, "For now, it would be best to postpone the start of your cultivation and avoid engaging in anything related to it—whether that involves gathering cultivation resources or, more importantly, selecting and beginning to train in new techniques."
"At this point, your knowledge of cultivation is still far too limited to make wise and informed choices. It would be a complete waste to use your privilege of freely selecting powerful techniques only to choose ones at random that may ultimately prove useless to your future path."
"By tomorrow at the earliest—or within the next few days at the latest—your new respective masters among the Three Great Elders will be chosen. Once that is done, they should be able to properly guide you through the early stages of your cultivation journey."
Kiara stepped forward, her expression calm but resolute, before asking, "Our respective masters? Would it be possible for the four of us to train under the same Great Elder?"
Senior Brother Han paused, his face turning thoughtful as he considered her request. After a few seconds, he gave a slow nod. "It is possible. Normally, the decision to take on a disciple lies primarily with the elder, and it is up to the disciple to accept or decline the offer. However, in your case—as Core Disciples with special privileges—an exception can be made. Your request will be passed along to the Great Elders."
"Thank you," Kiara replied.
He waved their gratitude away with a light-hearted chuckle. "No need for thanks. We're all members of the Wandering Sword Sect, after all."
With those final words, Senior Brother Han took his leave, ascending into the sky and vanishing from view. Left behind, the four of them remained silent, each deep in their own thoughts about their potential future master and the path that awaited them.
After some time passed, they collectively decided to set those thoughts aside and focus instead on what was immediately important: becoming fully acclimated with their new capabilities following their recent breakthrough to the Spiritual Foundation Realm.
There was much to adjust to—not only the sharp increase in their physical abilities, but also the changes brought about by their newly acquired talents. On top of that, they now had access to Qi, a completely different form of energy. Mastering it would require time and effort, as each type of energy had its own nature, and proficiency in one did not guarantee even basic control over another. That said, with the monstrous talents they now possessed, none of them were particularly worried about progressing slowly.
Of course, physical strength, talents and Qi control were not the only areas requiring attention. The Spiritual Foundation Realm also granted them several new capabilities: flight, the passive comprehension of all languages, and of course divine sense.
Among these, only the passive language comprehension required no training—it was simply there. The divine sense, on the other hand, could not yet be trained, as none of them had required techniques to train their control and without it their progress would be extremely slow it would be better to use their time to acclimate themselves with their other capabilities. As for flight, their new talents, physical abilities and Qi manipulation, those would demand effort and conscious adaptation.
And so, they focused entirely on that. Thanks to their abundance of newly acquired and activated talents, their progress moved with astonishing speed—faster than a rocket ascending to the heavens. In this way, time passed quickly.
***
Meanwhile, as Mikael and his three dao companions immersed themselves in mastering their new powers, a private meeting was taking place in a secluded, open-air pavilion.
There, two old men and one old woman sat beneath a curved wooden roof, the tranquil hum of a distant waterfall blending with the soft rustle of wind through bamboo leaves. A tea set steamed gently between them on a polished stone table.
One of the old men, dressed in disheveled black and silver Taoist robes that looked like they hadn't been straightened in decades, suddenly set down his cup with a clink. His robe bore the unmistakable embroidery of a Great Elder, though its wearer seemed to care little for the dignity that came with the title.
Great Elder Jianhai let out a long sigh. "They want to stay together, huh? All four of them, insisting on a single master," he said, voice somewhere between amusement and exasperation.
Across from him, the second old man—Great Elder Theren—lowered his cup with quiet grace. Clad in pristine black robes trimmed in silver, his posture was straight and his gaze serene, like a mountain untouched by the passage of time. "It complicates matters," he said calmly. "Had they accepted to be split, we could have divided the responsibility evenly."
"Hmph," snorted the old woman sitting to Jianhai's right. Great Elder Mei's robes matched the black and silver of the others, though she wore hers with a sharper edge, every fold crisp and intentional. Her silver-streaked hair was tied into a high knot, and her eyes, dark and piercing, narrowed at the steam rising from the teapot. "That's what we get for attracting the stubborn type. The four of them clearly agreed on this beforehand."
Jianhai chuckled, stroking his long gray beard. "Can't blame them for wanting some stability in a place full of old eccentrics."
"Spoken like you aren't the most eccentric one of us," Mei said dryly.
Jianhai grinned wider. "You say that, but I'm still the one with the fewest disciples. Two! That's all. Clearly, I'd make a better master than the two of you—I actually have time to spare. Unlike Theren's nine... and your—what is it now? Twelve?"
"Thirteen," Mei corrected. "And don't pretend this is some noble act of balance. You've always been too picky to take more."
"I prefer the word selective," Jianhai replied, without missing a beat. "Quality over quantity."
Theren gave a quiet nod. "And yet, when you do choose, your results speak for themselves."
"Hmph," Mei muttered, folding her arms. "You just want a new challenge to entertain yourself."
Jianhai lifted his teacup, swirling the liquid before taking a slow sip. "You're not entirely wrong. But it's more than that." He set the cup down again and leaned slightly forward. "I have a good feeling about these four."
There was a sudden lull in the air, a subtle pause, like a string pulled taut beneath the surface of the conversation.
Theren's eyes narrowed slightly, not unkindly, but with a contemplative weight. "Your instincts..." he repeated, tapping the rim of his cup.
Mei let out a dry laugh and leaned back. "There he goes again with those 'instincts'. Last time he followed them, he ran off to live in a cave for ten years chasing a sword intent that didn't exist."
"And yet I came back with it," Jianhai said with a proud smirk.
"No," she corrected without blinking. "You came back with a rock you claimed was singing to you."
Jianhai looked vaguely affronted. "It was singing. You just didn't listen properly."
Theren interjected, his tone gentle but decisive. "Let's not pretend this is only whimsy. Jianhai might dress like a beggar and talk like a madman, but his track record with disciples speaks for itself. Renjiro may be a sword fanatic with the social skills of a plank, but he's already surpassed many Inner Elders. And Lian'er... well, she's only chaotic in spirit. Her progress is undeniable."
Mei's fingers tapped softly against the table for several seconds as she drifted into her thoughts. "Jianhai, are you sure you're capable of taking on four new disciples? This isn't just another one of your whims, is it?"
Great Elder Jianhai looked vaguely offended as he responded, "No worries, old Mei. I'm definitely capable of taking care of new disciples. Just look at how little Renjiro and little Lian'er turned out!"
Mei rubbed her temple with a sigh. "Alright, I won't object to you taking them in, but I already have a headache just thinking about all the trouble you're going to cause."
Theren added calmly, "I also have no objection to you taking these four as your disciples."
Jianhai nodded, looking satisfied. "Good! You two old coats are finally starting to see reason!"
A vein twitched on both Mei and Theren's temples, but neither replied. They knew better—engaging would only encourage his eccentricity.
And so, the meeting ended with the master of Mikael and the girls decided. Yet whether they would accept him... that remained to be seen.
***
"Who are you!?" Lyra's sharp voice echoed across the courtyard of the Cultivation Manor, taut with tension.
At that very moment, Mikael—suspended in mid-air, focused on refining his Qi control while practicing his flight—abruptly ceased his training. Without a second thought, he let his body fall. He landed in a crouch, the impact of his descent barely more than a soft thud against the ground.
His gaze snapped toward Lyra's position, his senses already heightened. In a single fluid motion, his hand moved to the hilt of his longsword—not merely a weapon, but a companion that had never left his side throughout three grueling years of battle and growth. The once-unnamed blade had long since forged its own identity, tempered through blood, fire, and unyielding will.
Sangrelia.
The name pulsed silently in Mikael's mind as his fingers closed around the familiar grip. The sword stirred, as if answering an unspoken call. A faint resonance vibrated through the air—not sound, but presence, sharp and electric, like the breath of wind before a thunderclap.
No words passed between the four, but in that silent instant, the atmosphere shifted. Whoever had entered their space had done so uninvited—and unwisely.
Mikael's piercing gaze locked onto the intruder. It was an old man, long grey hair falling down his back and a beard of equal length that he stroked idly as he observed them. He wore the traditional black-and-silver robes of the Wandering Sword Sect, yet unlike the neat taoist garments they had seen worn by others while flying over the sect grounds, his were rumpled and disheveled, as though he had forgotten they existed the moment he put them on.
But that wasn't the most eye-catching detail. No, far from it. What truly drew their attention was the emblem stitched into the left side of his chest: a vertical sword cleaving the heavens, intersecting a yin-yang symbol that shimmered faintly in the morning light. That insignia alone was enough to confirm his identity—he was a Great Elder.
The moment they registered this, the suffocating tension that had blanketed the courtyard began to ease, if only slightly. A portion of their vigilance ebbed away, replaced by wariness rather than direct hostility. After all, even if he had entered without warning, a Great Elder was not someone they could treat with open suspicion.
Still, habits were hard to break, and caution remained. Almost in unison, the four of them cupped their fists in a respectful salute. "Greetings, Great Elder."
"Good attitude," the old man said with a satisfied nod, seemingly speaking more to himself than to them. Then, as if tossing out a casual afterthought, he added, "Hey, how about becoming my disciples?"
The words were light, almost whimsical, delivered with the same laid-back tone as someone offering tea. But only Jianhai himself knew that beneath this relaxed facade, his mind was far from calm. It had already been an hour since he first arrived at this Cultivation Manor, and in that time, he had quietly observed the four of them train.
What he saw had left even someone of his immense experience shaken.
They weren't simply talented. No—they already knew about their high level Cultivation Aptitude, it was more than that, their comprehension abilities bordered on the absurd. In the short hour he had been there, he had watched each of them make astonishing strides in mastering their new powers. Progress that would have taken most cultivators days—if not weeks—had been accomplished in a mere hour.
At that thought, Jianhai gave himself a small, self-satisfied nod, inwardly gloating, 'See, old coats? I was right again. My instincts never fail. These four are monsters in the making! It's really not easy being a visionary like me…'
Having come to this confident conclusion, he had stepped out from the shadows and revealed himself, leading to the current exchange.
Author Note:
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