On the evening Linley returned to Fenlai City from the valley, the sky hung so dark and low it seemed ready to press down on the rooftops. As he crossed the residence's front courtyard, the butler hurried over, an odd look on his face.
"Young master, you have a visitor waiting."
Linley stopped and took the pack off his back-inside were several seventh-level magicite cores from his hunt in the mountains, along with a few rare medicinal herbs. "Who is it?"
"A gentleman... carrying a Cardinal's token." The butler lowered his voice. "He's been sitting in the parlor for half an hour, drinking tea without saying a word."
A Cardinal's token? Linley frowned slightly. His relationship with the Radiant Church had always been delicate. Though his talent had drawn its attention, he had never truly grown close to it. A visit at a time like this...
"Go on with your work," Linley said. "I'll go see him."
An oil lamp burned in the parlor, casting a dim yellow light. A man in a dark red robe stood with his back to the door, looking up at a landscape painting on the wall. His posture was relaxed, even a little languid, but the moment Linley crossed the threshold, his body instinctively tensed.
It was a warrior's instinctive response to danger.
The man turned around. He looked to be in his thirties, with an ordinary face that would have disappeared in a crowd. But his eyes were dark gray and still as stagnant water. Looking into them for a few seconds was enough to make one's skin crawl.
Linley recognized him.
"Mr. Cesar."
Cesar, the King of Killers, was a Saint-level assassin who had lived for six thousand years. Linley had met him once before in the Mountain Range of Magical Beasts. Cesar had been hunting down a member of an assassin organization who had defected, and Linley had stumbled across him. The two had spoken briefly. Cesar had called Linley's stone carving "a little interesting," then vanished.
Linley hadn't expected to see him again here.
"Linley Baruch." Cesar smiled faintly, but the still water in his eyes stirred. "It's been over a year. You've made rapid progress."
Linley didn't respond to that. His gaze fell on the token hanging at Cesar's waist. It was dark gold, engraved with the Radiant Church's cross and edged with the thorn pattern unique to a Cardinal. The token couldn't be fake. Anyone in all of Fenlai City who dared forge one would have bones rotting in the ground by now.
"Mr. Cesar, you've come bearing a Cardinal's token. What can I do for you?"
"I wouldn't presume to give you instructions." Cesar walked over to the tea table and sat down, refilling his cup. "I'd like to ask you a favor."
Linley sat opposite him. "Please, go ahead."
"Carve a statue," Cesar said, taking a sip of tea. "Use me as the model, but capture... the allure of killing."
The parlor fell silent for several seconds. Outside the window, the sky grew darker still, and a muffled rumble of thunder sounded in the distance.
"The allure of killing?" Linley repeated.
"Yes." Cesar set down his cup and held his hands loosely before him, as though gripping an invisible dagger. "Not a savage or violent look, but that moment of... focus, precision, and elegance. Do you understand what I mean?"
Linley looked at him. The assassin who had lived for six thousand years had a serious look in his eyes. He wasn't joking.
"Why come to me?"
"Because you can see it," Cesar said. "Last time, in the Mountain Range of Magical Beasts, you saw me deal with that traitor. There was no fear in your eyes, no moral judgment, only observation. You were watching the movements, the rhythm, the... beauty. If a stone sculptor can't see those things, he can't carve a true work."
Linley was silent for a moment. "I'll need time to observe you."
"I can cooperate," Cesar said. "Whatever movements or poses you need, I can do them. As for payment..." He pulled a small cloth pouch from his robes and tossed it onto the tea table.
The mouth of the pouch came loose, revealing several deep-purple cores. They were the magicite cores of eighth-level magical beasts, each worth tens of thousands of gold coins.
Linley didn't look at them. "I don't want money."
"Then what do you want?"
"Help me kill someone."
Cesar smiled, a hint of amusement entering his expression. "King Clayde?"
Linley didn't deny it. Since Cesar had found his way here and carried a Cardinal's token, he naturally knew about the feud between Linley and Clayde-or at least the part visible on the surface.
"No." Cesar shook his head. "Killing a king, even the king of a small kingdom, would have too many ramifications. It would be hard to explain to the Radiant Church."
"You're afraid of the Church?"
"Not afraid. It's a nuisance." Cesar picked up his teacup again. "I've lived long enough to learn one thing: avoid trouble when you can. Those charlatans in the Church aren't hard to kill, but more will pop up once you do. It's tiresome."
Linley stared at him. "Then why did you come? To show me your principles?"
"To offer you another choice." Cesar set down his cup and leaned forward slightly. "You don't need me to kill Clayde. You can do it yourself."
"He's a Ninth-level Warrior."
"A Ninth-level Warrior is still human." Cesar smiled. "And humans can be poisoned, injured, and killed. I can't do it myself, but I can teach you how."
"How?"
"Poison."
Lightning flashed outside the window, briefly illuminating the parlor. Thunder rolled in after it, rattling the window frames.
Cesar drew a piece of parchment from his sleeve and spread it on the tea table. Eight medicinal ingredients were listed on it in neat handwriting, but the paper had yellowed, and its edges were worn.
"Hemolytic Poison." Cesar pointed to the parchment. "It's colorless and tasteless. Mix it into food or drink, and within half an hour of a Ninth-level Warrior consuming it, more than seventy percent of his battle-qi will dissipate, and less than a tenth of his physical strength will remain. Ordinary tests can't detect it, either. It doesn't damage the source of battle-qi; it only temporarily blocks its circulation and muscle strength."
Linley studied the eight ingredients. The first six were precious, but they could be found on the market. He had never heard of the last two-mist grass and cloud lingzhi.
"These two..."
"Extremely rare," Cesar said. "Mist grass only grows in the Poison Mist Swamp, deep in the Mountain Range of Magical Beasts. It matures once every ten years, and it has to be used within three days of being picked, or it loses all its medicinal potency. Cloud lingzhi is even more troublesome. It doesn't grow on the ground, but in crevices on cliffs a thousand meters high. It survives by absorbing moisture from the clouds and mist, and takes a hundred years to grow the length of a finger."
Linley committed the information to memory. "What about the formula?"
"Once I'm sure you can carve the work I want." Cesar put away the parchment. "If I'm satisfied in a month, I'll give you the formula. If I'm not..." He stood up. "Forget you ever saw me."
"When do you want me to start?"
"Now is fine." Cesar walked to the open space in the middle of the parlor. "What do you need me to do?"
Linley took his tools from his interspatial ring as well-a set of carving knives and several blocks of bluestone. He got into position but didn't begin immediately.
"Mr. Cesar, please recall the moment when you were most focused while killing someone."
Cesar closed his eyes. A few seconds later, he opened them, and his whole bearing had changed.
The languid visitor of moments before had vanished. Standing there was a drawn blade, sharp, cold, and deadly. His right hand was loosely clenched, his left slightly raised, his center of gravity lowered, and his eyes fixed on an imaginary target ahead.
It wasn't the kind of frenzy that sent killing intent surging into the sky, but restraint taken to the extreme-all his strength, will, and killing intent concentrated at a single point, waiting for the moment they would erupt.
Linley's carving knife moved.
Bluestone chips pattered down. He looked at neither Cesar nor the stone, his eyes half closed as he worked entirely by feel. His blade traced clean, precise paths, every cut landing exactly where it needed to.
Cesar held the pose without moving, even his breathing so light it was almost inaudible.
Rain began to fall outside. Drops pattered against the roof, making the parlor seem even quieter. The oil lamp flickered gently, casting their shadows long across the wall.
An hour later, Linley stopped carving.
The stone had taken on a rough human form-a figure leaning forward, coiled to strike. The face had yet to be carved, but the lines of the body had emerged: taut muscles, limbs gathering strength, and the tension of an imminent eruption.
Cesar walked over and looked at the stone. He looked at it for a long time.
"Not bad," he said. "Keep going."
For the next seven days, Cesar appeared punctually every evening. Sometimes he brought rare carving materials-deep-sea cold jade, obsidian formed from volcanic lava, and even a small piece of star iron. Linley practiced with them, his technique growing ever more accomplished.
They rarely spoke. Cesar posed, and Linley carved. Occasionally, Cesar offered a few pointers on the details of exerting force, the angle of a gaze, or the subtle shifts of muscle. None of it concerned cultivation; it was purely about "posture" and "artistic conception."
On the evening of the seventh day, Linley finished his third statue. This time he had used a piece of dark red blood jade Cesar had brought. It depicted the instant a blade slashed down-the edge had just touched its target, and blood had yet to spatter, but the chill of death had already spread.
Cesar looked at the statue in silence for a long time.
"That's it," he said. "This is what I wanted."
He took another piece of parchment from his robes and placed it on the tea table. This paper was older still, and the writing was dark brown, as though written in blood.
"The complete formula for Hemolytic Poison, including the preparation method and dosage," Cesar said. "You already know the eight ingredients. The first six aren't hard to find. As for the last two... that depends on your luck."
Linley picked up the formula and read it carefully. The preparation was complicated, requiring precise control of heat and guidance with spiritual energy. That wasn't difficult for a mage, but it was nearly impossible for an ordinary person.
"Thank you."
"No need. It was just a trade." Cesar put away the blood jade statue, wrapping it carefully in silk. "One more thing: Clayde isn't a fool. If you collect these ingredients openly, he'll notice."
"I need cloud lingzhi. It's something money can't buy."
"Then you need a good plan." Cesar went to the door and looked back. "One last piece of advice: don't rush. Wait until everything is ready, and wait for the right moment."
He pushed the door open and stepped out. His figure merged into the curtain of rain and vanished in the blink of an eye.
Linley tightened his grip on the formula.
Over the next month, Linley began taking action in secret.
He went to Yale first. When the young master of the Dawson Chamber of Commerce heard what ingredients he wanted, he thumped his chest and promised, "Leave the first six to me. I'll have them all in half a month at most. Mist grass is trickier, but the Chamber happens to have a team heading to the Poison Mist Swamp soon. I'll have them keep an eye out. As for cloud lingzhi..."
Yale scratched his head. "I've heard of it, but I've never seen it. Apparently, the last one appeared thirty years ago at an auction in the O'Brien Empire, where it sold for the astronomical price of two million gold coins."
"Put out a bounty for me," Linley said. "One million gold coins for cloud lingzhi."
"One million?" Yale's eyes widened. "Linley, are you sure? That's no small sum."
"I'm sure."
The bounty notice soon spread through the Dawson Chamber of Commerce's channels. News that someone was offering a million gold coins for a single medicinal herb was like a stone dropped into a still lake, sending ripples through Fenlai City and even the entire Holy Union.
Some scoffed, thinking it was a stunt to attract attention. Others were tempted and began searching through their families' inherited stores of medicinal herbs. Still others made discreet inquiries, hoping to learn what the Baruch Clan's genius mage was planning.
It was at this time that Wharton made his breakthrough.
Late that night, Linley was studying the formula in his study when he suddenly sensed a violent surge of energy from the training grounds in the residence's rear courtyard. He set down the parchment and hurried over.
On the training grounds, Wharton was enveloped in dark red battle-qi. Unlike that of ordinary warriors, his battle-qi didn't flare outward. It flowed close against his skin like a layer of liquid armor. His eyes were closed, his fists clenched, and his body trembled slightly. He was clearly trying to break through a threshold.
Linley stood at the edge of the grounds without disturbing him. He could feel his younger brother's aura climbing steadily-peak seventh level, early eighth level, middle eighth level...
At last, Wharton opened his eyes. The dark red battle-qi burst forth with a roar, forming a visible ring of air around him. The ground cracked, and fragments of stone flew.
He had become an Eighth-level Warrior.
What was more, Linley could feel that the aura of the dragonblood in Wharton's veins was several times stronger than before. If he transformed now, he could probably reach the late ninth level.
Wharton drew in his battle-qi, looked at Linley, and smiled. "Brother."
"When did you get back?" Linley walked over.
"Three days ago." Wharton flexed his wrists. "Grandpa Hiri said you'd been busy lately and told me not to disturb you, so I cultivated on my own."
Linley studied his younger brother. An Eighth-level Warrior at twelve-his talent would shock people to death if word got out. But Linley didn't ask further. Everyone had secrets of their own.
"Did you come back for something?"
"Yes." Wharton nodded. "I heard you've been collecting cloud lingzhi. Brother, what are you planning?"
"Hemolytic Poison." Linley's voice was terrifyingly calm. "Lord Cesar said that just a fingernail-sized amount mixed into food or drink can leave a Ninth-level Warrior with less than a tenth of his strength for twelve hours."
"Brother." Wharton's voice was a little hoarse. "When are you planning to do it?"
Linley carefully put the jade bottle back on the stone platform and turned around. The seventeen-year-old was handsome, but too much had settled in his eyes that did not belong to someone his age-the grief of losing his father, the anger of learning the truth, and killing intent that had been brewing for a long time.
"After I prepare the poison," Linley said. "I've already made my plans."
He pulled a roughly drawn diagram from his robes and spread it on the stone platform. It showed the layout of part of Fenlai's royal palace, with several locations circled in red.
"Every three days, Clayde takes a walk in the imperial garden in the evening. It's one of the few things he does on a fixed schedule. I'll deliberately 'injure' myself the day before and send someone to the palace to request a healing potion. By custom, the royal family will send a court physician, and Clayde himself might even come to visit. After all, I'm now the kingdom's youngest genius master stone sculptor and a genius mage at the Ernst Institute."
Linley's finger traced the route marked on the diagram.
"If he comes, I'll poison his tea. If he doesn't, I'll ask for an audience at the palace to thank him for the medicine. Either way, as long as he drinks something laced with Hemolytic Poison..."
"And then?" Wharton interrupted. "After the poison takes effect, you'll kill him in the palace? Brother, that's the royal palace. It's heavily guarded and monitored by magic formations. Even if the poison greatly weakens Clayde, how can you be sure you'll get out unscathed?"
"I have Bebe." Linley looked at the black Shadowmouse crouching in the corner.
Bebe gave a squeak and darted onto Linley's shoulder, a vicious light flickering in his little eyes. The Shadowmouse was now an eighth-level magical beast, so fast that even an ordinary Ninth-level Warrior would struggle to catch him.
"Bebe can create chaos, and once I transform into a Dragonblood Warrior, my speed will reach the ninth level too. As long as the plan is thorough, we can leave the palace before the guards react." Linley's voice was full of confidence. "Wharton, I've waited too long for this day. The words Father couldn't say before he died, the truth about Mother's disappearance... Clayde has to die."
Wharton's heart sank.
This was the plan. In the original story, this was exactly what Linley had done-pretend to be injured, lure Clayde to his home, poison him, and then...
Then Heidens, the Pontiff of the Radiant Church, would appear out of thin air.
That peak Saint-level expert would arrive the moment Clayde's poison took effect and Linley was about to succeed. He would gravely injure Linley in a single move and throw him into the Ecclesiastical Tribunal's dungeon. If the Day of Destruction hadn't arrived six months later and Dylan hadn't destroyed Fenlai City, Linley would have died in that dungeon long ago.