Drake’s expression shifted. The gentle calm he usually carried vanished, repced by something cold and distant. His voice, when he spoke, was almost a whisper.

  “I personally severed his connection to his soul mp,” he said. “And I extinguished it myself.”

  The words hit her like a sp.

  Lauren’s heart pounded, memories fshing through her mind—Master’s warning when she first joined the sect: ‘If you ever commit an unforgivable act, I will personally end you.’

  Freya… the eldest disciple. A devourer.

  Just what the hell had he done?

  “Master… why?” Lauren’s voice came out small, almost fragile.

  Drake didn’t hesitate. “Because he was disobedient.”

  Lauren froze. Disobedient?

  When Master cherished someone, his affection was boundless. He could be impossibly generous—vish, even. But when he chose to punish… he did not hold back.

  A chill ran through her spine. She dared not press further.

  Drake slid the Ice Soul Sword back into its sheath and set it aside. “Leave it with me.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Go on.”

  Lauren swallowed and steadied herself. “Other than those people, there were also two mysterious Formation Masters. I heard they were the first among the eight to arrive in the valley. In three years, I’ve only seen them a few times—they’re always focused on researching how to break the formation.”

  Drake nodded slightly, his tone indifferent. “Then you’ve seen what’s sealed beneath the valley?”

  Lauren hesitated. “…Yes. Not only did I see it, I… kind of brought it out.”

  Drake went utterly still.

  For a few seconds, there was nothing but silence. Then Lauren used her spiritual sense to reach out. Your turn, she told Edmund.

  A moment ter, a small, pitch-bck dragon slipped out from her sleeve, scales glinting faintly under the hall’s light.

  The creature lifted its head, meeting Drake’s gaze. Neither moved.

  Lauren knelt awkwardly beside them, darting nervous gnces between her master and the tiny dragon. The tension was so thick she could barely breathe.

  After what felt like an eternity, Edmund gave a low growl—something between defiance and greeting—then retreated back into her sleeve.

  Drake finally spoke, voice calm but heavy. “Go back and rest.”

  “Huh?”

  That was it?

  Still confused, Lauren bowed and backed away from the hall.

  Outside, she spotted Tarot lurking by the doorway, clearly waiting for her.

  He hurried over the moment she appeared. “Are you okay?”

  Lauren blinked, still dazed. “I… yeah, I’m fine. Oh—by the way, Senior Brother, I should return those spirit stones to you.”

  Tarot caught her hand before she could fish them out. “Keep them. Use what you need. If I ever run short, I’ll just ask Master. I’m just gd you’re safe.”

  “…Okay.”

  “Tarot, come in.”

  Drake’s voice echoed from inside the hall.

  Tarot straightened immediately. “Yes, Master.”

  He went in at once, bowing deeply. “What are your orders?”

  Drake handed him a jade slip. “Take this to the South Sea. Deliver it to the great sea beast, Silent Fang.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  After Tarot departed, Drake formed a quick seal and sent out a message through his spiritual sense.

  “Gerald, bring your disciple here.”

  Gerald was in the middle of listening to Dante’s report when the Immortal Master’s voice struck his mind. He straightened immediately.

  “Yes, Master.”

  He turned to Dante, whose expression had frozen mid-sentence. “The Immortal Master wishes to see you. Come with me to Starfell Summit.”

  Dante blinked once, then bowed. “Understood.”

  Dante’s first visit to Starfell Summit—and stepping into the mysterious Starfell Hall—had his stomach in knots.

  The Immortal Venerable Drake didn’t even gnce at him. He turned instead to Gerald and handed him a small cquered box. “I need to sell something. Take this to the Sunspire Auction House.”

  Gerald accepted the box and immediately felt the powerful spiritual energy radiating from it. His expression tightened. “Master-Uncle, name your price. I’ll buy it.”

  Drake’s voice turned cold. “Are you trying to take advantage of me?”

  Gerald stiffened. “…No.”

  “Then take it to the auction house. If you want it, bid like everyone else.”

  Gerald grimaced. If this thing went up for auction, the price would be astronomical. “Master-Uncle, are you… short on spirit stones?”

  Before he could finish, Drake flicked his sleeve. A wave of force struck Gerald square in the chest, sending him tumbling out of the hall like a rag doll.

  “Stop talking nonsense.”

  Dante, standing quietly to one side, nearly jumped out of his skin. Watching his master get swatted into the distance was enough to make his blood run cold. He didn’t even dare to breathe too loudly—if the Immortal Venerable decided he was annoying, he’d probably be next.

  Drake turned his gaze on him. “Don’t be afraid. I’m very tolerant of the younger generation.”

  Dante’s expression froze. Right. Tolerant. If he hadn’t already seen Drake casually unch his master halfway down the mountain, he might’ve believed it.

  Drake’s tone softened a fraction. “I have something to ask you. Just answer honestly.”

  “Yes, Immortal Venerable.”

  ......

  Meanwhile, back in her quarters, Lauren sat cross-legged and called Edmund out. The tiny bck dragon materialized beside her, coiling zily in the air.

  “What did you and my master talk about?” she asked, arms crossed.

  “What we discussed,” Edmund said calmly, “is beyond your current access level.”

  Lauren scowled. “I’m already involved, aren’t I? You chose me, Archmage Light protects me, and my master—who supposedly retired from worldly affairs—came down the mountain the very day I became his disciple. None of this is a coincidence, right?”

  Edmund’s golden eyes narrowed slightly. “Well, then?”

  “So I have the right to know, don’t I?”

  “Then why didn’t you ask your master instead of me?”

  Lauren opened her mouth, then shut it again. “…Because…”

  “You think I’m easier to push around?”

  “Uh—no. You’re a god. I wouldn’t dare.”

  “Good,” he said dryly. “Then don’t push.”

  Lauren huffed. “Fine. But you said I’m involved—so what’s actually going on?”

  Edmund’s tone turned thoughtful. “In this realm, your master’s only true enemy is time. Unless he triggers the Ascension Tribution, only the end of his lifespan could destroy him. As for me—if I were easy to kill, they wouldn’t bother scheming against me. But you…”

  He fixed her with a steady gaze. “You’re different. If you’re exposed, there are many who could kill you.”

  Lauren frowned. “If they know you’re out, they’ll know you’re connected to me.”

  “Not necessarily. The Boundary Force isotes us. As long as you don’t expose yourself, they can’t see clearly.”

  “And what counts as ‘exposure’?”

  “The Will of Heaven is… unpredictable. Sometimes, one careless act or stray word is enough.”

  “That’s vague as hell.”

  “Not really. Remember when you were a child, and you killed their puppet? Its death alerted them.”

  Lauren went quiet, recalling the incident.

  “So,” Edmund continued, “just cultivate like any other disciple. Ascend the normal way. Be cautious when your strength doesn’t match your ambition. You’re the key to breaking the bance—we can’t afford to lose you.”

  Lauren sighed but nodded. “Okay.”