Drake’s gaze softened with understanding. “When I was young, I was an orphan too. My master took me up the mountain, and life wasn’t easy. I’ve felt fear as well. Even now, when I see a big yellow dog, I still feel that same instinctive dread.”

  Lauren looked up, wide-eyed.

  She hadn’t expected that. Her unshakable, untouchable Master… afraid of dogs?

  Her chest tightened again, this time not with fear, but with emotion. He wasn’t just comforting her—he was opening himself up.

  “So… Master, are you still afraid now?”

  Drake nodded. “Yes. Fear itself isn’t shameful. Those who fear nothing tend to die early. Fear breeds concern. Concern breeds hesitation. And hesitation leads to thought. Humanity’s strength lies in this—our ability to think. To weigh the consequences. When faced with what we fear, we don’t rely only on brute strength.”

  Lauren’s mind turned his words over carefully. So, what Master fears now… is it the Will of Heaven itself?

  He hadn’t dared to ascend recklessly. He was trying to find another path—to face Heaven without direct confrontation.

  After hearing his words, the knot of fear inside her eased. The ghost of those childhood memories faded, repced by the comforting weight of spirit stones in her p.

  She smiled sheepishly. “Actually, Master, I don’t spend much. I just went a bit overboard st time when I returned home.”

  Drake looked at her. “Worried you won’t be able to spend it all?”

  “Huh?”

  “I’ll have your senior take you to the auction house ter.”

  Lauren almost choked. The auction house—the ultimate bck hole for spirit stones.

  But at the mention of it, a thought suddenly struck her.

  She reached into her storage ring and took out two crimson pills and one shimmering golden one. “Master, during our trip, we found a dojo left behind by a Mahayana cultivator beneath the open sea desert. She performed self-solution and left these behind. This Dust-Killing Pill is for you, as an offering from all four of us.”

  Drake’s brows lifted slightly. He took the pill, studied it briefly, and nodded. It was indeed genuine. He likely wouldn’t need it—when the end of his lifespan came, he too would choose self-solution—but he accepted it quietly.

  “And these,” Lauren continued, holding up the crimson pills, “are Blood Qi Pills. We wanted to ask for your help putting them up for auction in your name.”

  Drake gave her a look that spoke volumes. So the “gift” had come with strings attached after all.

  “…Put them aside.”

  Lauren blinked. “Uh… okay.”

  After a pause, curiosity got the better of her. “Master, aren’t you curious why that Mahayana cultivator chose self-solution? The reason’s engraved on the stone wall. Only Dante could read it—with his Golden Eyes.”

  Drake waved a hand dismissively. “That’s irrelevant. Have you finished your report?”

  “Report?” Lauren blinked again.

  Drake said mildly. “Now, tell me about the Light.”

  Ah. There it was. No escaping that.

  Fine. She’d have to expin it sooner or ter anyway.

  Lauren lowered her gaze, palms facing upward. “Yes, Master. I did meet Master Light. He gave me this mark—the swastika. He also appeared to help me sy the seventh-level demon beast in the desert. Afterward, the mark returned to my palm. I don’t think his true self emerged.”

  Drake nodded. “That’s typical for a Buddhist cultivator. Light has thirty-six external forms, each one possessing nearly the same strength as his original body.”

  Lauren’s eyes widened.

  Thirty-six forms? So there could be thirty-six Lights?

  One was already terrifying enough. Thirty-six would be… absurd.

  Drake reached out and lightly brushed his fingers over her palm. The swastika glowed faintly, golden light blooming from her skin.

  Drake studied her quietly, then said, “There are three Dharma images sealed within you. Each one sts for the duration of a stick of incense. Once used, they return to their original form.”

  Lauren blinked, stunned.

  That meant Light had essentially given her three life-saving talismans. She’d already used one—only two remained.

  Drake’s gaze deepened. “To strip off a Dharma image and give it to you for protection… that kind of act damages the original body. Lauren, he must value you greatly.”

  Value her… greatly?

  Lauren frowned slightly. Light had never seemed particurly warm toward her. Distant, polite, occasionally even cold. But Master wouldn’t say something like that without reason.

  Could it be that Light had seen something she hadn’t?

  “Master, I have something important to tell you. Actually, in the Sky-covering Valley—”

  Drake raised his hand, cutting her off.

  Before she could react, he began forming seals with his fingers. Threads of white mist spiraled from his hands, weaving together and rising into the air. The vapors thickened and grew, swelling until they pierced straight through the ceiling.

  Lauren’s eyes widened. If she wasn’t mistaken, those were the same clouds that had once shrouded the valley itself.

  For a long moment, the hall was filled with a humming stillness. Then Drake exhaled softly, lowering his hands.

  “Sky-covering Valley,” he said, his voice low. “You’ve been there?”

  Lauren nodded quickly. “Yes, Master. I entered when I was ten… and came out when I was thirteen.”

  Drake’s gaze sharpened. “How did you escape?”

  “The barrier weakened. Only those with lower cultivation could leave. Archmage Light helped me out.”

  “Who else was there?”

  “Archmage Light, and his disciple—Viper.”

  Drake frowned slightly. “Viper became a monk?”

  “Yes.”

  “And Flower Wife,” he continued. “The former Holy Maiden of the Demonic Cult?”

  Lauren nodded again. “She’s there.”

  Drake’s tone grew even quieter. “And the Butcher?”

  “Tyler. Tyler’s still there too.”

  Lauren hesitated, then added, “There was also a mysterious devourer. He gave me this.”

  She drew the Ice Soul Sword from her ring and offered it to Drake with both hands. “I checked the library—it matches the sword used by Senior Brother Freya. But I have no idea how it ended up with that thing.”

  Drake took the sword, his expression unreadable. He brushed a finger along the bde, and in an instant, lines of ancient script bloomed across the steel—dense, glowing characters pulsing with energy.

  Before Lauren could make out a single word, the symbols vanished, drawn into Drake’s fingertips like threads of light.

  She gaped at him, bewildered. “Master, that devourer… who is he? Why did he have Senior Brother’s sword? Did he—did he kill him?”

  The hall seemed to grow colder.

  Lauren’s thoughts raced. According to the sect’s records, when a cultivator dies, their soul mp goes dark. Freya’s mp had gone out long ago. His sword showing up in the hands of a devourer—it didn’t make sense. Unless—

  “The devourer you encountered,” Drake said slowly, “is Freya.”

  Lauren stared at him, speechless. “What? He’s—he’s alive? But the sect’s records—his soul mp went out! How could he be a devourer?”