Tunde snapped out of his cultivation, his eyes widening. He inhaled deeply, feeling the Ethra sink into his body like a sponge, as every nerve and Ethra line blossomed with raw power. It was night, the room shrouded in darkness, yet Tunde could see clearly, as if it were day. His eyes pierced the gloom without even needing Ethra sight.

  "Ifa?" he called within himself, receiving no reply, which meant Ifa was still within whatever form his void space had taken. His gaze shifted to Sera, who seemed deep in cultivation. The black and red lines that had once covered her body were now gone, leaving her skin smooth as a child’s. Even her scars had vanished, a thought that made Tunde smirk wryly. She had always taken pride in her scars, seeing them as marks of honor, but cultivation had wiped them clean. Now she was a flawless, beautiful yet lethal cultivator. Her breathing was calm and even, and her once raging aura seemed restrained, as if she had drained the malevolence from it.

  Tunde sighed and got to his feet. He changed into fresh robes and quietly made his way to the door. His senses were alive, in tune with his surroundings. As he opened the door to a quiet hallway, Sera’s voice came softly from behind him.

  "Going out?" she asked.

  He turned, surprised. She had cut off her cultivation. "Relax, I finished hours ago. I was just refining my aura," she explained, rising gracefully to her feet.

  "How do you feel?" Tunde asked, watching her stretch and yawn.

  "Better. I realized how much I’ve neglected my aura. Taming my bloodlust was the first step," she replied.

  She glanced around the room, frowning. "Where’s Zhu?"

  "Training with Ifa, somewhere discreet," Tunde answered, stepping outside.

  "Might as well stretch our legs; the night is young, and Shimmersteel seems lively," Sera said, heading to the washroom.

  Tunde lingered at the stairs, listening to the laughter and noise coming from the tavern below. The people were in a jolly mood, without worries to keep them up through the night. A few minutes later, Sera emerged, dressed in a black and red robe with her hair tied neatly into a ponytail. The sword named Slaughter was sheathed at her waist.

  "You could leave the blade behind. We’re just taking a stroll," Tunde remarked, eyeing the weapon that had once been his.

  "Being around you is dangerous enough," Sera replied with a smirk. "Might as well be prepared in case anyone decides to come after you."

  Tunde chuckled as they made their way downstairs. The room was bright and lively, filled with the scent of meat and booze. Liquor flowed freely as cultivators of the Lord rank sat with friends and consorts, eating and drinking the night away. Dressed in black robes, Tunde and Sera stood out like sore thumbs among the white-robed cultivators, who all seemed to be from the same sect. Thankfully, no one paid them any attention as they slipped out into the streets of the pleasure district, where Ethra crystals illuminated the area as far as his eyes could see.

  Tunde could sense the Ethra and aura in the air, all manner of affinities swirling on the breeze. The convergence was making its imminent arrival known. He tucked his hands into his robes and sighed, glancing at Sera. "So, where to?"

  "You didn’t have a destination in mind?" she asked incredulously.

  Tunde realized he hadn’t thought that far ahead. "The trading district?" he suggested cautiously.

  Sera rolled her eyes. "Figures. Lead the way," she said with a chuckle.

  Together, they navigated the streets, passing couples stealing kisses when they thought no one was looking and finely dressed women standing at brothel doors, eyeing passersby with hungry looks. Tunde quickly turned his gaze away, focusing on finding the trading district. Along the way, they bought a few delicacies from the small shops that were still open.

  "How does it feel to be at the pinnacle of the Lord realm?" Sera asked softly as Tunde drank from a small wooden gourd he’d bought, admiring its shape.

  He paused mid-swing and glanced at her before swallowing. "Good, if that’s what you’re asking," he replied.

  "You’re one of the strongest cultivators around here now," she observed.

  Tunde snorted. "You’re at the peak of the Lord realm yourself."

  Sera shook her head with a tight smile. "True, but you’re something else. Your presence doesn’t feel like the Lord realm anymore. I’d bet your aura has advanced past its limits."

  Tunde offered only a tight smile. "The path of advancement always pushes you further, and you know that too. First, I just wanted to survive. Then came the rift, the duel with Thalas, another rift, and an invasion, followed by yet another invasion. There’s always something that forces me to push on, to be better."

  "And now you’ve been invited to the capital," Sera added with a nod.

  "What about you?" Tunde asked. "Why do you keep advancing?"

  Sera shrugged. "To get stronger. I want to travel the world, and to do that, I need to be powerful—so powerful that no one can trample over me."

  Tunde chuckled. "Fair enough."

  As they entered the trading district, they were greeted by stalls selling an assortment of items—battle pills, elixirs like blood rejuvenation, endurance, and even rage pills. Tunde was surprised by the variety but resisted the urge to use the gold aurum card gifted to him by the Acacia clan. His Ethra sight revealed the impurities in the shoddily made pills and elixirs. They might offer short-term help, but in the long run, they would slow down or even destabilize a cultivator’s advancement. For him, his concept would break them down easily, but he still considered them a waste of money.

  Sera took delight in inspecting the various blades, playfully haggling with the sellers as she ‘borrowed’ his aurum card to buy weapons she didn’t need. It had been a long time since Tunde had seen her so happy. He left her to it, his eyes roaming the district, taking in the sights and sounds. Switching on his Ethra sight, he examined the various Ethras mingling in the area—mostly fire and metal, casting an iridescent glow.

  Suddenly, he saw a flash of Ethra that made his blood run cold. Tunde froze, staring carefully in the direction where he had seen it. There it was again. His initial rage cooled as he reminded himself not to assume anything yet. Sera rejoined him, noticing the serious look on his face.

  "What’s wrong?" she asked softly.

  "Hopefully nothing," Tunde replied, watching as she sent all her items into her void ring and placed a hand on Slaughter. They moved quietly towards a stall with the sign 'Merchant Tanyu' hanging above it.

  **********************

  The outside of the shop was a shoddily—or as Tunde suspected, hastily—built structure of wood, with the plaque of the merchant Tanyu prominently displayed. Tunde activated his Ethra sight, observing the figure sweeping outside the stall with monotonous movements. Nodding to himself, he whispered softly to Sera at his side, "There’s a possibility the owner of the store is not who he seems to be," he began. "Even more likely is the fact that he might, in fact, be after me. That servant... it’s not fully human—part construct, perhaps."

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Sera discreetly glanced at the figure, while Tunde smiled at passersby who occasionally shot curious looks in their direction.

  "What do you plan to do?" she asked softly.

  "Not fight, for one. You heard the patriarch. If he’s after me, we leave Shimmersteel tonight. If not, we let him be," Tunde said. He couldn’t afford to risk a fight breaking out in the middle of the trading district again.

  Sera gave a slight nod, indicating her understanding. Tunde acknowledged the servant with a nod as they passed, though the figure barely glanced at them before returning to work. Swallowing his disgust at what his Ethra sight had revealed, Tunde turned away. The servant was dead—in every way that mattered. Somehow, an artificer had managed to keep the body moving, its bones now metal, etched with inscriptions. The core of the body was merely a battery to keep it animated, and the skull, completely void of a brain, was filled with intricate markings. Tunde couldn’t help but wonder how such a feat had been accomplished.

  Inside the stall, the atmosphere was warm and welcoming, with incense burning in the air. Tunde relaxed his posture, though he kept his awareness sharp. His eyes roamed over the impressive array of weapons lining the walls. They were striking, even to his trained eyes. He couldn’t help but recall Borus, who had once crafted him an axe that was equally as remarkable. But nothing comes free in life, as Tunde had learned repeatedly.

  Rows of weapons gave way to light armor; the kind Tunde had never seen before. He had encountered imbued robes, but actual armor made of Ethereon was something new to him. As he stared, Sera remained uncomfortably rigid at the edge of his vision. Slowly, he made his way toward the counter where, no doubt, the stall owner would be waiting. His pace quickened before he slowed, recognizing the figure conversing with the merchant. The man turned, smiling.

  "Ah, Tunde. How nice to see you," Highlord Ujin said, his tone almost too friendly for Tunde’s liking. A quick check with Ethra sight confirmed that it was indeed the real Highlord and not a clone, as Tunde had momentarily feared. He bowed respectfully, Sera following suit.

  "Highlord Ujin, I greet you," Tunde said calmly, his mind racing. Did the artificer know the Highlord? And why was Ujin here, so far from the Acacia clan’s main home? Despite the questions swirling in his mind, Tunde maintained a composed expression.

  "I see you’ve heard about the stall that’s been driving out other weapon merchants in Shimmersteel," Ujin remarked, his voice measured. A light chuckle came from behind the Highlord, and Tunde noticed a nearly imperceptible stiffening in Ujin before it vanished.

  "You do me great honor, venerable Highlord," said the figure behind him, stepping forward. Ujin moved aside, revealing a pot-bellied, round figure dressed in expensive attire, gold chains and rings adorning his body. The merchant smiled at Tunde, who once again bowed, this time letting his Ethra sight pierce through the shrouds hiding the artificer’s true form.

  "I greet the merchant," Tunde said, noticing a flicker of surprise flash across the merchant’s face for just a moment. The merchant was, in fact, female—hidden beneath not one, but two layers of disguises. The first shroud was the guise of merchant Tanyu, whom Tunde suspected was already dead. The second layer was that of a lithe man, likely used for travel. And beneath it all was her true form.

  Standing straight, the merchant smiled. "What may I interest you in?" she asked.

  Tunde pointed to the rack of armor. "Ah, those," the merchant said, following his gaze. "They come from Silvershade. Their... cultivation methods are a bit different from ours."

  "Oh? In what way?" Tunde asked, keeping his eyes fixed on the figure in front of him, while Highlord Ujin quietly browsed the wares again.

  "They prefer to imbue their clothing rather than their bodies. It’s said to preserve their Ethra lines, allowing for better casting in battle," the merchant explained.

  Tunde nodded. "I see. Have you been to Silvershade yourself?"

  The merchant laughed lightly. "Cross the Boundless Seas? Oh no, these items came through a larger merchant—one who operates out of the capital. I’m merely a humble retailer."

  "Do not attack. We know what he is," a soft voice whispered in Tunde’s mind. He recognized the tone—it was Highlord Ujin, using Ethereal Voice. Such mastery meant Ujin was nearing the realm of masters. If the Acacia clan knew the merchant’s true identity, did that mean she wasn’t after him?

  "We also had another merchant who sold items around here. Borus—perhaps you’ve heard of him?" the figure asked, her fake smile still plastered on her face.

  "Indeed," Tunde replied, turning slowly. "Unfortunately, he died during the attack by the Revenant Cult. A shame, really."

  The merchant blinked slowly before nodding. "I see," he said, as Tunde turned his gaze away from the artificer in disguise and began to make his way toward Highlord Ujin. But the merchant spoke again.

  "Although, I couldn’t help but notice you share the same name as a cultivator Borus grew fascinated with during his time at... Jade Peak. Tunde, yes, that was the name," the merchant said.

  Tunde paused; his relic ready to manifest at a command. He turned back to the merchant. "Indeed, I am that Tunde," he replied. The merchant nodded, and Tunde noticed Ujin’s gaze on him. Glancing upwards, Tunde saw that the roof of the stall was surrounded by cultivators of the Lord realm.

  "And you survived Jade Peak, where an artificer could not?" the merchant asked.

  "Artificer?" Tunde said, feigning ignorance.

  "I grow weary of this act. You know who—or rather, what—I am. I could feel it as you peeled away the layers of my shroud as easily as soft paper," the merchant said with a laugh.

  "I take it then that you are also an artificer?" Ujin asked, his tone shifting from cheery to cold.

  "Please, Highlord Ujin, let’s not insult each other. You knew that the moment you stepped into my humble shop. Was it the patriarch who tipped you off?" the merchant asked as the false body he wore began to burn away like paper, revealing the form of the young man Tunde had previously seen.

  "The artificer is a woman," Tunde said, as Sera drew her blade from its sheath.

  "Tsk, tsk, tsk, spoiling all the fun," the male figure laughed as his skin, too, began to burn away. Ash floated in the air around the artificer.

  "By the patriarch and the Acacia clan, I hereby place you, artificer of the Technocracy, under arrest for stepping foot in our territory," Ujin said as the doors broke open and a dozen Lord realm cultivators entered, weapons drawn. "Resist, and die," Ujin finished.

  The artificer, now revealed as a woman with silver metal hair and glowing silver eyes, laughed. Her skin crawled with etched writings, similar to how Borus's body had been marked. "You borderland weaklings think you can take me down?" she scoffed, waving her hand. From her void ring emerged a dozen metal skeletons, wielding crude weapons covered with aura. Each one exuded the strength of a peak Lord cultivator.

  "I came only for what you stole from Borus. Hand over the relic, or watch Shimmersteel burn," she declared.

  "What you seek was lost to the ruins of Jade Peak—right after I killed the artificer, of course," Tunde responded, drawing his naginata.

  "An artificer," Ifa hissed in his mind, making his presence known again.

  "Welcome back," Tunde said dryly.

  "A friend of Borus?" Ifa asked.

  "After the fang," Tunde replied.

  The artificer’s aura flared, but Ujin countered by shielding the other Lords from its oppressive force. Tunde, however, felt nothing. He refrained from unleashing his own aura, uncertain if revealing that he had surpassed Lord realm aura manipulation would be wise in front of Ujin.

  "You risk the wrath of the patriarch," Ujin snarled.

  "About that..." the artificer said, tossing a disc into the air. A dome of silver power shot out, encasing the area as Ujin’s eyes widened.

  "Impressive. A defensive barrier, formation grade 6. She came prepared," Ifa mused.

  "You don’t seem worried," Tunde noted.

  "I could unravel it with time. Besides, the Highlord shouldn’t be a problem for you, should he?" Ifa asked, amusement lacing his tone.

  "She’s a Highlord," Tunde reminded the spirit.

  "And you’re a Highlord in all but name and advancement. You walk the path of the Void Devourer—don’t make me lose face," Ifa retorted.

  "Highlord Ujin," Tunde called out. "I seem to be in a bit of a predicament, as per the patriarch—"

  "He has released you from your oath, so long as you do not take it beyond this battle," Ujin interrupted.

  Tunde paused, then nodded. The artificer sighed. "Bring me his dead body," she commanded, and the metal skeletons sprang into action.

  Tunde’s naginata sliced one effortlessly in two, the aura-imbued weapon cleaving through the creatures. Ujin, meanwhile, launched himself at the artificer. Sera moved swiftly, blocking the attack of the servant they had observed earlier, who was now burning with the aura of a peak Lord.

  Tunde left Sera to handle the servant, essence flame coating his weapon as more skeletons manifested from shimmering rifts around them. "A domain. That artificer is no ordinary Highlord," Ifa muttered, a hint of concern in his voice. That meant Ujin might be in trouble.

  Tunde shot toward the fight between Ujin and the artificer, his weapon trailing his aura as he aimed a strike at her. The female artificer twisted out of the way with nimble grace, laughing as she produced two circular blades from her void ring. The spinning weapons hovered at her sides, whirring with dangerous energy.

  "Do you even know who you’re harboring?" she taunted Ujin, whose arms were now covered by intricately styled gauntlets—powerful soulbound weapons.

  "You are an abomination," Ujin spat.

  The artificer sighed. "I’ll have to pry the relic from your cold, dead hands then," she snarled, attacking them both with a ferocious onslaught.