Bladewater, the ancestral seat of power of the Acacia clan, was more than two centuries old. It had served as the throne for three clan patriarchs, each bestowed with the title of 'Sea Serpent.' This position was the aspiration of every heir within the Acacia clan—to sit upon the pearl-crusted throne of their ancestors and gaze upon the numerous offspring and descendants of the clan. But it wasn’t a dream for bastards, as Ujin knew all too well. That was why he had set his sights on more manageable goals, like becoming the clan's general and head of security.

  Perhaps the heavens had been in a generous mood the day he was born, for Ujin only bore the eyes of the clan’s bloodline and nothing more. As an illegitimate child of the patriarch, he had been spared the burden of the clan’s bloodline Ethra affinity for water. His mother had always thanked the hegemons for this, knowing it had automatically removed him from the succession line to the Acacia throne.

  When he was younger, Ujin hadn’t understood this, not even when a single punch from his barely trained fists could bring down a peak disciple of the clan as an initiate. The stronger he grew, aided subtly by the patriarch in acquiring a speed affinity crystal, the more he realized how fortunate he was. Ujin had genuinely prayed to whatever hegemon would listen that he would obtain a water Ethra crystal, but in retrospect, he was grateful that prayer had gone unanswered.

  As Ujin walked through the white and blue halls of Bladewater, his destination being the abode of the patriarch himself, he chuckled at the thought. Had he been bestowed the affinity of water, Ujin knew he would be dead by now—if not at the hands of the jealous concubines of the patriarch, then at the hands of one of his siblings during the numerous rift runs and wars the clan fought. Instead, he had been granted the speed affinity along with a high-grade cultivation manual of the ‘Flowing Water Fist Style.’

  This blatant help was the most Ujin could ever expect from the patriarch. Alongside his sworn friend and brother, Bajun, he had perfected his cultivation style into what was known as the Flowing Fists. It was called the Victorious Fighting Fists when he wore a flesh mask in the pit, but those who knew what to look for could see the Flowing Fists in action.

  Ujin sighed as he approached the gold and silver doors, not looking forward to the meeting. Lady Zehra Acacia, the pride and joy of the clan, had been a blessing from the moment she manifested an ice affinity at birth. Supposedly the true affinity of their first patriarch, it was a sign of complete royalty within the clan. The Acacias had spared no expense in ensuring she received the best elixirs, pills, manuals, and teachers the clan could afford.

  Yet, for all their self-importance, Clan Acacia was a lesser clan, one of dozens that called the empire home. No matter how powerful they fancied themselves, in the eyes of the clans, sects, and schools of the central plains, heartlands, and capital itself, they were insignificant. Then, out of nowhere, the clan received a communication construct from the Ironthorn continent, proclaiming that they were the Frostleaf clan and asking for Zehra’s hand in marriage.

  Logically, the clan should have dismissed this proposal outright. Not only did it seem laughable, but it also risked betraying the Talahan clan, which could bring unforeseen problems. It was already bad enough that Zehra was born a lady, putting her right to claim the patriarchal seat on shaky ground, but to willingly send off one of the strongest cultivators the clan had seen in years? The idea was almost absurd.

  Then they saw the 'offerings' sent along with the communication construct via a Nexus Key. The wealth and power of the Frostleaf clan were staggering, with piles of lumens, elixirs, pills, weapons, and even jewelry sent as part of the proposal. All this for the second in line to the Frostleaf clan. Ujin wasn’t sure if this was insulting or demeaning, to marry her off to the second child of some wealthy clan, but it was not his place to decide such matters, so he kept his thoughts to himself.

  The clan accepted the proposal, much to Zehra’s displeasure, but Ujin had watched as the clan molded the child’s thinking from an early age, shaping her into the perfect servant of the Acacia clan. Zehra Acacia lived and breathed for the clan; it was all she knew and cared about. The plan was for her to reach the peak of Lord and serve the clan to the best of her ability—a process the patriarch decreed would take no less than five years before she could be allowed to leave the clan's safety.

  Clan Frostleaf, with its odd-sounding name, had agreed to this. So Ujin couldn’t help but wonder what had changed and why they had appeared here again through a Nexus Key. He winced at the thought that the clan couldn’t afford a defensive formation barrier to ward against abrupt Nexus Key usage within their territories, but few clans could. Formations like that were crafted by arcanists and keyed to the bloodline or cultivator who requested their work. These formations lasted for centuries, as arcanists were rare, elusive beings who had vanished from the face of Adamath, hidden within their floating island home, where their presence was requested only by the truly powerful clans and sects that could afford their services.

  The doors opened, and the guards at the entrance bowed at the waist to Ujin as he nodded solemnly, making his way into the grand room. Waterfalls forged with Ethra lined both sides of the room, and the very space bristled with water and blade affinities. Ujin felt the energy caress his skin gently, as if weighing whether it should cut him down or not. Still, he strode towards his assigned position, bowing to the assembled people.

  Akero, the direct guardian and Highlord Realm cultivator of the clan, sat next to his charge, the cold-faced Zehra, who acknowledged Ujin’s entrance with the slightest nod. Ujin stopped as close to the pearl throne as he was permitted, bowing at the waist. "This humble Highlord greets the patriarch," he said in a loud, clear voice.

  Master Juga Acacia, the patriarch of the clan, nodded at him from where he sat, his head bald to the middle, with long black hair flowing from the crown down to his shoulders. Garbed in a deep blue robe with the crest of Clan Acacia emblazoned on it, the seemingly frail old man gripped the armrests of his chair tightly. It was a fa?ade that every core member of the clan knew he loved to project, especially to strangers, but Ujin wasn’t fooled.

  Taking his seat, Ujin finally turned his gaze to the assembled strangers in white robes, each with a short staff across their folded legs. They waited passively, their cold eyes fixed on the patriarch, who spoke.

  "Now that we are assembled, you may proceed, our honored guests," he said in a frail voice.

  The man leading the delegation nodded. "I thank the patriarch," he began, unfurling a scroll. "On behalf of the Frozen Spear of the Frostleaf clan, patriarch and head of the clan, according to the bond signed between our two clans, I come stating that Lady Zehra is to follow us back to Ironthorn and take her rightful place as lady of the Frostleaf clan."

  Ujin sighed inwardly.

  *******************************

  The bodies of their attackers lined the streets of the district come morning, much to the surprising calmness of its residents. Tunde observed as the guards, who had been conspicuously absent during the battle the previous night, suddenly appeared, finding the bound cultivator Tunde had restrained for them and the bodies of his compatriots, who had bled out—a fact that discomforted Tunde. He had wanted to keep them alive, but the way they had approached him spoke of the killing intent they harbored towards both him and Sera. She now sat in a meditative posture, quietly reflecting on her actions from the night before, as Tunde had instructed at Ifa’s behest.

  Blood and flesh aura rippled around her form as she contained it, breathing softly. Tunde turned his gaze away, replaying the battle in his mind as he watched the guards roughly grab the fire user. The man didn’t resist, meekly allowing them to drag him away to whatever fate awaited him. It struck Tunde how casually the death of a lord was treated in Shimmersteel, highlighting how far behind Black Rock was compared to even a clan like Acacia in terms of power and influence.

  One of the guards glanced up, their eyes meeting Tunde’s before the guard gave a cryptic nod and swiftly turned away. Tunde raised an eyebrow, wondering what that was about, when a knock came at the door, breaking Sera’s meditation. She placed a hand on her blade, Slaughter, her red eyes fixed on the door as Tunde raised a hand to her, signaling her to stay calm. Sera kept her hand on the blade, though she trusted few, except for Tunde and Miria. Tunde couldn’t help but wonder if her cautious mindset was more appropriate than his own. Caution was a trait that could carry a cultivator far on Adamath, something he knew well. But now, the presence outside the door felt powerful, like an Advocate, though Tunde could sense the presence of a lord behind it.

  The door opened to reveal an elderly man in an expensive robe, flanked by the terrified innkeeper and a tall, lithe cultivator who seemed to be her guard. Tunde wondered why he hadn’t sensed the third person and refrained from using his Ethra sight to discover the man’s affinity. What he did notice was the blue robe the elderly man wore, adorned with the crest of a flowing stream—the same crest beautifully carved into the gates of Shimmersteel itself. A lord of Clan Acacia, then. Wary already, Tunde bowed gently.

  “How may I help you?” he asked calmly, refraining from cycling his Ethra. The elderly man folded his hands behind his back and spoke gently.

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  “Greetings, esteemed cultivator. My name is Lord Chao of the Chao family of Shimmersteel, owners of the White Crane Inn,” he said, and Tunde understood. It was about time the owner of the establishment showed up, though Tunde wondered why the innkeeper trembled like a leaf, her head bowed low.

  “I beg the forgiveness of the lord!” she stammered, her voice trembling. Tunde frowned.

  “May we come in and discuss?” Lord Chao asked. Tunde stepped aside, letting them in. The cultivator of Clan Acacia entered last, warily stepping in as if he expected an attack. Once they were seated on the polished brown wooden floor, the elder whipped out a tray with a hot kettle and some cups. He began to pour a brown liquid with the scent of honey into the cups, speaking gently.

  “This is one of our finest tea blends here in Shimmersteel,” he said, offering a cup to Tunde, who accepted it gracefully. The elder offered one to Sera, who reluctantly took it, sniffing at it while keeping her wary eyes on him. Tunde’s gaze drifted to the innkeeper, who remained in her bowing posture after entering the room.

  “On behalf of my family, I wish to express my profound apologies and embarrassment for the events of last night,” Lord Chao said, a frown creasing his face. “Such occurrences, while not unheard of, have never happened within the White Crane—until now.” He glanced at the innkeeper, who trembled even more under his gaze.

  “Did she have something to do with it?” Tunde asked cautiously. Chao nodded, while the Acacia clan cultivator remained relaxed, his eyes closed, arms folded into the sleeves of his robes.

  “Indeed. Apparently, she runs—or rather ran, since most of them are dead or soon will be by your hand—a group of would-be mercenaries,” the elder explained. “They took advantage of those who lodged within the Crane, stealing their possessions or eliminating them as soon as they checked out. Much to my dismay, this has been going on for quite some time. I take full responsibility for this negligence and have taken appropriate measures against all involved.”

  “She wasn’t the only one?” Tunde asked, and the elder shook his head slightly.

  “No, it pains me to admit it, but she was just one in a series of my workers who sought to exploit my lack of oversight,” he replied. “I believe the coin given to you by Highlord Ujin, who has always enjoyed my patronage, led them to assume you were some spoiled brat with an aurum card filled with lumens and rings filled with resources.”

  Tunde scratched his beard lightly, giving the elder a slight smile. “I suppose so, and I thank you for your hospitality. Your establishment is beautiful and well-kept, but I bear no ill will toward her or you. It’s not the first time I’ve been attacked by those who sought to take from me,” Tunde replied. The Acacia clan cultivator cracked open an eye, staring at him silently before shutting it again. Tunde wondered what that was about.

  “I see. You do indeed seem like someone the heavens have tested over time. Still, it would be a loss of face for me if I did not offer compensation for this slight,” the elder said, producing a gold aurum card from within his robe and sliding it toward Tunde. “This is one of the gold aurum cards of the Chao family. It is accepted anywhere in Shimmersteel. Please use it to your heart’s content. Your stay here at the White Crane will also be free of charge. It is the least we can do for you.”

  Tunde frowned. This was exactly what he had hoped to avoid. He silently cursed himself for agreeing to duel in the pit. The attention he had wanted to avoid was steadily being drawn toward him, and now that a member of Clan Acacia had seen him, he would no doubt inform the clan. Tunde could only hope that Zehra wasn’t anywhere near the district or even suspected him. She and her lord would have expected him to die within the rift along with the revenant invasion.

  Then again, it would be an insult to reject the card, and Tunde sighed inwardly. Accepting the card with a bow, he said, “I thank the elder and his family. I will ensure to use the card in a way that does not cause the Chao family any problems or loss of face.” Sera bowed along with him, thankfully keeping quiet.

  Elder Chao gave a soft smile, eyeing him. “You are a curious young man, Lord Tunde,” he said. “First, you somehow gained the favor of Highlord Ujin, and now you will journey with him into the peak Tier 4 rift that opened up a few days ago—something dozens of lord realm cultivators would give an arm and a leg for.”

  Tunde blinked. “What is special about this rift?” he asked.

  “The convergence is upon us. Rifts, much like during the beast surge, will see an increase in power and resources,” the elder explained. “Except in this case, rather than rift creatures and the like, there will be Ethra affinity crystals ripe for the taking, along with other items such as cultivation fruits. It is a bounty just waiting to be harvested.”

  “I believe the Highlord simply wants to see what I’m worth in a fight,” Tunde responded.

  “True, plus the fact that the rift will be pulsing with powerful rift creatures, possibly even sentient ones at that,” the elder said as Ifa spoke in Tunde’s mind.

  “The higher the rift, the closer it is to whatever realm they came from. With a Tier 4 or lord realm rift, you should face some capable twisted abominations,” Ifa said quietly.

  “I see. Perhaps the heavens will smile on me once again,” Tunde replied to the elder, who gave a soft smile.

  “Now that we have discussed compensation, what do we do about her?” the elder asked, gesturing to the trembling innkeeper as if waiting for Tunde’s response.

  Tunde bowed fluidly. “I leave her judgment to you. I bear her no ill will and can only hope you show some leniency. Everyone deserves a second chance,” Tunde replied, and the elder nodded solemnly.

  “I see. I understand,” he replied, snapping his fingers. The Acacia clan cultivator moved with a fluid grace Tunde had rarely seen among cultivators. In one smooth motion, his arm was covered in a blue blade aura as he sliced the woman’s head cleanly off her neck. Her shocked face fell into a void ring, along with her body that crumpled up together.

  Tunde blinked in shock as Sera was halfway through drawing her blade, her eyes wide. Perhaps what surprised Tunde the most was the absence of a single drop of blood on the ground. The lord had killed her in one fluid, smooth movement, so clean and precise it was almost unbelievable had Tunde not tracked it with his eyes. To Sera, a mid-level lord, it must have seemed like a blur.

  "Was that necessary?" Tunde asked calmly as the elder sipped from his cup.

  "Indeed. Sparing her would only be seen as a sign of weakness on my part," Lord Chao responded.

  "I see," Tunde replied, trying his best to keep the anger out of his voice. "And what happened to being lenient?"

  "I will be," Chao said. "Her family and close relatives won't suffer for her crimes. They will get the second chance she paid for with her life—a fitting reminder to those who work for me that the Chao family does not suffer fools." He spoke calmly as he got up from his seat.

  Tunde rose as well, noting the elder’s eyes moving to the seething Sera. "Your, ah, lady friend seems to disagree with my actions, but I see you understand," Chao said as Tunde inclined his head slightly.

  "As per the law, you are now honored guests of the Crane. My friend here will ensure that you are treated as guests from the Black Rock Sect that you are," Chao said before smiling and calmly leaving the room.

  They knew. Tunde realized this as he bowed back at the retreating form of the elder and the cultivator who paused at the door, glancing back at him slightly. Tunde met his gaze with cold steel, saying nothing as he waited to see what the man would do.

  "It would be wise not to draw more attention to yourself," the man said cryptically before leaving.

  As the door closed, Tunde raised a finger to his lips, halting the tirade of rage Sera was about to unleash. Waiting until even his lord-rank senses could no longer detect their presence, he turned to Sera. "We need to leave now," she hissed.

  "You know we can't, not with the Highlord monitoring our every move," Tunde replied calmly.

  "Even we so-called barbarians weren't this brutal. We followed laws," she said.

  "And so do they, but their laws are different from ours, it seems," Tunde said, his eyes drifting to the Ethralite ant that scuttled out of the corner where it had been hiding, shimmering into existence. The creature had gone completely unnoticed by the elder and his lord-rank guard, and Tunde idly wondered what other abilities it possessed.

  Jade and cosmic Ethra—it had taken a piece of him as well. Tunde watched the creature climb up his arm, its antennae waving lazily in the air as its mandibles clattered together in a familiar manner Tunde understood. The ant had taken to exploring the entire room, moving up and down, fascinated by the smallest of things as if it had been dropped into a whole new world.

  At this point, Tunde was truly bothered by how to carry it around and voiced his concern to Ifa. "Simply put it in your void space," the sentience said, as if it were obvious.

  Tunde blinked. "You just saw what happened to a body placed within a void ring," he replied, shuddering as he remembered the crushed and mangled body of the woman.

  "A dead body. The Ethralite is a being of raw Ethra. Plus, it has a faint taste of cosmic concept from you. It should be fine," Ifa replied.

  Tunde stared at the creature as it bit down on the table, its mandibles crushing the reinforced wooden structure. Shifting his gaze away from the ant, he turned to Sera, who had taken her place by the window, watching the comings and goings of the district.

  "What exactly did you have in mind when you came here?" she asked.

  "To see the world one city at a time," Tunde responded. She said nothing, the two of them enjoying the silence before she perked up.

  "They are coming," she said, and Tunde turned, following her gaze to see the Highlord calmly walking through the streets with several people behind him. Tunde nodded, turning to the Ethralite as he opened his void space in the seamless manner he had learned to do. The creature hesitated, staring at the floating void where Tunde knew a lot of his resources simply drifted about. It clacked its mandibles as if seeking reassurance before Tunde rubbed its head fondly, handing it an Ethra crystal. The creature grabbed the crystal before jumping into the void space, the aperture sealing shut.

  A few moments later, there was a soft knock on the door, and Ujin’s face appeared as the Highlord stepped in. Tunde and Sera bowed in deference.

  "You two look surprisingly calm for people attacked in the middle of the night," Ujin observed.

  "The Highlord thinks highly of us, but it wasn’t our lives at stake," Sera replied, surprising Tunde, who glanced at her. Ujin laughed.

  "Well spoken, young one, well spoken," he replied before turning to Tunde. "I believe you are ready, yes?" Tunde nodded gently. "Good. Then we leave for the rift. The skies above are boiling with unreleased Ethra; the convergence will soon be upon us, and the noble Acacia clan has directed me to plunder the rift," Ujin said. "Not that I need to explain myself to you," he added, as if realizing he just had.

  Tunde nodded solemnly. "Indeed, venerable Highlord. This is merely a lord seeking to repay the benevolence of the Highlord, nothing more," he said, bowing once again.

  Ujin rubbed his beard, pondering. "Tell me, have you heard of the name Zehra Acacia?" he asked, and Tunde forced himself not to shiver.

  "In passing, around these parts," he replied.

  "I see," Ujin said softly. The Highlord folded his arms behind his back with a sigh. "Then we move," he said. Tunde nodded, and with Sera by his side, they left the room in tandem with the Highlord.