Cade knew Lythienne wanted to find out the bead’s purpose, but at least she wasn't demanding he tell her outright. Interestingly, the elder went straight to the point, not even bothering to inquire how he’d discovered they had the bead in their possession.

  He had to give her something.

  “Senior, I’m sure you’ve already researched the bead extensively. It doesn’t help with cultivation, doesn't enhance qi, and it can’t even strengthen the body. It’s not an irreplaceable treasure, but rather a matter of utility and convenience. However, I’m not against sharing what I know—for a fee,” Cade answered. While a concession was necessary, it didn’t mean he had to part with the knowledge for free.

  The sum didn’t need to be reasonable—just so long as it skirted the edge of absurdity without actually crossing it.

  “How direct of you! Very refreshing. And how much would you be asking?” A faint smile still tugged at Lythienne’s lips.

  “500 mid-grade crystals—all upfront. Naturally, Senior can’t expect me to return the payment if you don’t like the answer, which I’m almost certain won’t satisfy you,” he said with an apologetic smile.

  The amount was equal to five million low-grade spirit crystals—an absolute fortune. Considering his ring had failed to extract the blood from the giant insect, Cade realized he might be forced to buy a Rank 4 carcass on the open market. This amount would go a long way toward that. He’d finally have enough potent blood to reach the great circle of Flesh Fortification—though he didn’t truly believe the elf would agree to his terms.

  “That’s a great deal of wealth,” Lythienne noted calmly, unperturbed by the ridiculous demand. “You’re right in thinking I probably wouldn’t be happy with the transaction, as I seriously doubt this bead is all that useful. However, if you can provide me with Malon’s arms now, instead of waiting for the Voidwalker family representative, I will send someone over with the bead as soon as I return to the Tower. You will receive it; you have my word.”

  “Not a problem, Senior,” Cade nodded. He pulled Malon’s limbs from his ring, blood still trickling from the stumps. Wincing slightly, he handed the grisly appendages to the elven elder, who didn't even blink as she collected them.

  “I greatly appreciate Senior’s attitude. Thank you for being so reasonable with me,” he said, cupping his fist.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cara staring at him like a venomous viper. When she realized he was handing over Malon’s arms but keeping hers, her body began to shake with barely suppressed fury. A brief smile of satisfaction touched Cade’s lips, vanishing before he straightened up.

  “Since you didn’t tear out my disciple’s energy core—as I’ve heard you’ve done in the past—I see no reason why I should act irresponsibly,” Lythienne smiled. “Besides, I know Malon. He’s a good student, but also a product of his upbringing. You gave me his arms and took my word for payment; I’m happy to offer you this silver bead in return. I’m a little curious as to its use, but I'm not five-million-crystals curious. Since we haven’t discovered its purpose after studying it for so many years, it simply isn’t fated for the Tower.”

  She flashed a quick seal, and the bubble of silence around them vanished.

  “Thank you, Senior,” Cade said with a straight face, offering a bow.

  On the inside, he was ecstatic. The bead would make up for the loss of the blood from the mantis-ant carcass. He still had to figure out exactly what had happened there.

  At least I’ve managed to recover a few drops. It should be enough for the third stage of Asura War Form—but first, I need to learn more about this giant insect. Is it strong, fast, tough? Or just big and otherwise average?

  Thanks to Senior Sister Night—who he strongly suspected had a hand in helping Thror Silver Fang escape his time-bubble prison—he had a perfect candidate for the second stage of War Form. If the mantis-ant was decently strong, he’d use it for the third stage when the time came, unless he stumbled on a better option before then.

  Cade quickly returned to Grandmaster Erendriel’s side. The old elf, alongside other Saints, was preparing the Sword Dao disciples to move out from the underground cave and return to the monastery.

  “Sorry for the trouble, Grandmaster,” Cade apologized, theatrically coughing into his hand. Erendriel glanced at him solemnly, then his lips slowly stretched into a wide smile.

  “Who cares about them!” Erendriel laughed. “I’d be offended if you didn't do something to those obnoxious heirs. That being said...”

  “Yes, Grandmaster?”

  “You should be prepared if you ever travel south. The Long family won’t let this slide.”

  “Thank you for the warning. I’ll be very careful,” the Asura replied.

  “Good. Let’s go then.”

  The column of black and white-robed disciples moved out. Cade used the journey to brief the Saint on the Death Dao situation. Erendriel didn’t seem surprised by the news; he must have expected there were more spies.

  Once they reached the foot of Sword Dao Mountain, Cade chose to make a detour. He needed to take the mantis-ant’s carcass out of his ring and find out what had robbed him of his precious blood essence. He traveled a few dozen miles into the desert, and after confirming he was alone, he brought out the huge insect.

  The massive, black form instantly covered the area in a foul stench. Cade frowned. He recalled the smell when he first picked up the carcass but had paid little attention at the time, too giddy about obtaining such a corpse. Now, it dawned on him that this offensive odor resembled the rotting smell of the putrid werelion he had fought months ago.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  He took out Legion and attempted to cut through one of the thick appendages. The shining black carapace resisted the weapon, forcing Cade to chop at it like a drunken woodcutter. After two dozen attempts, the chitinous armor finally gave way. When the blade cut into the soft tissue, a murky yellow ichor spilled onto the hot desert sand.

  The stench grew unbearable. Cade’s heart sank; the enormous carcass had been almost fully converted into a ghoul. The few drops of blood his ring had scavenged likely came from the last unspoiled parts. He hadn't paid much attention to the formation Death Dao was using to release the corpse back in the Realm. He'd assumed it was related to time manipulation, but clearly, increasing the time flow wasn't its only goal.

  Death Dao had wanted to turn the carcass into a ghoul inside the Realm to intimidate the disciples into submission. Since the carcass wouldn't have a life signature, it was possible the Realm’s killing formations would have ignored it. Death Dao cultivators would have been invincible with a Rank 4 ghoul backing them up. They could have infected anyone they liked, turning the best and brightest of the three organizations into agents of their undead sect.

  It was a brilliant, terrifying plan.

  Cade swiped the ghoul back into his ring, unsure what else to do with the damned thing. Sighing, he returned to the monastery and headed straight for Erendriel’s mansion on the Saint level. Upon explaining his discovery, he was surprised to see that the information didn’t shock the old Saint as much as he'd expected.

  “Death Dao always schemes, as they lack the strength to attack openly,“ Erendriel exhaled, staring into the distance. “They must have realized our Matriarch was in closed cultivation. Luckily, she should be out soon. If we have any other spies in the monastery, she will find them.”

  His gaze shifted back to Cade. “It seems you and the other disciples have saved the three sects from a calamity. Your actions struck a serious blow to Death Dao’s plans for the Desert of a Thousand Lakes. I’m sure the Matriarch will come up with a satisfactory reward for you all.”

  “No reward is necessary, Grandmaster,” Cade said, shaking his head. “After all, it wasn’t for altruistic reasons. Although...”

  “Mhm. Here it comes. What do you want?” The Saint raised an eyebrow, letting out a short chuckle.

  “Nothing much! I’m just interested in what kind of insect this mantis-ant is and what its strengths are. As a child, I spent my spare time reading an old bestiary, but I’ve never seen a creature like this mentioned.”

  “Describe it again, in detail.”

  Cade did as he was asked, describing the size, proportions, number of limbs, and the carapace. The Saint nodded, thinking for a moment.

  “If I’m not mistaken, it’s a Reaper Monarch—of the abyssal subspecies, given the black carapace. Definitely not an ordinary Reaper; those were much smaller. Monarchs could grow even bigger than the one you found and easily reach Rank 6. Just imagine that.” Erendriel smiled.

  “I cannot. I can’t even imagine what Rank 5 is capable of,” Cade admitted.

  “Exactly. These creatures were artificially created a very long time ago and bred for one purpose: war. While they can’t transform into bipedal forms, they were still highly intelligent at higher ranks. As for their strengths... their carapace was hard, but there were tougher creatures. Nor were they particularly fast, though you wouldn’t call them slow. Do you know what an ordinary ant’s best attribute is?”

  “Not really,” Cade answered.

  “It’s the capacity to perform highly strenuous work for extended periods. In the Reaper Monarch’s case—the ability to fight for days on end without tiring.”

  “I see. And how strong were they?”

  “Not the strongest creatures in existence, but definitely above average. The Monarch would be significantly stronger than its kin.”

  “Fascinating. Were they common?” Cade asked.

  “The Monarchs less so, but still not rare,” the Saint confirmed. “Reapers were highly trainable and easy to breed. They grow quickly, and their unique biology makes them very energy-efficient, requiring only moderate feed relative to their bulk. They made perfect soldiers for bestial armies. Keep in mind, we’re talking about times when cultivators could destroy planets without so much as raising an eyebrow. 'Above average' then and now does not mean the same thing.”

  Cade stared, his mouth half open. Crap, this might be a great score after all! Since the monarch’s raw strength was high, that’s already enough for my purposes. If it's laws could improve my energy efficiency, at least a little, that'd be amazing.

  Smiling with satisfaction, the Asura cupped his fist. “Thank you, Grandmaster. I have learned a lot. I won’t trouble you any longer; I have spoils to examine.”

  The elf nodded, already shifting his focus to a comms gem blinking impatiently in his hand. “Sure. Try not to trip while walking downstairs,” the Saint added with a playful glance at Cade's blindfold.

  “It’s a special cultivation art!” Cade retorted.

  “Mhm. Just don’t expect any special treatment to go with it. Off you go.”

  The Asura chuckled internally. The old fox clearly knew something was going on with his eyes but didn’t press the matter. Cade appreciated that respect for privacy. Erendriel never tried to control his life; perhaps that was why he only accepted in-name disciples—to avoid the temptation to interfere. Or maybe I’m overthinking it, and he’s just lazy.

  On the downside, Erendriel had made it clear he wasn't interested in his disciple's outside troubles. It would have been great if Cade could ask him to deal with Massgrave, but just imagining the look of disappointment the Saint would give him made him wince. Besides, he preferred to manage on his own whenever possible.

  Returning to the inner court, his primary concern was finding a way to hold Jade’s body in stasis until she could be cured. Reeve should have dropped her off at the infirmary for a checkup.

  There was also the matter of the silver pendant and visiting Tower Oasis to sell his spoils. He wanted to learn the reservoir technique in Ang War’s Red Reaper Scripture, reach the late stage of Flesh Fortification, and complete the second stage of War Form. Only then would he feel confident enough to travel to the heart of the Brightheart Empire.

  Just as Cade cracked the front gate of his home, Lucy came rushing out, her cheeks pink and a relieved smile on her face.

  “Senior Cade, you’re alive! I was so worried!” the girl exclaimed, stopping in front of him and clasping her hands. Her emerald eyes glimmered in the light of the sunstones.

  “Thank you, Lucy. Luckily, I’m still in one piece. How were things here?” Cade smiled. He’d missed her cheerful presence; without her, the house felt like a lifeless chunk of stone.

  “Everything is fine, Senior!” Lucy beamed. “Oh, I almost forgot. There is a message waiting for you.”

  Cade’s brows pulled back in surprise. “A message? From who?”

  Lucy pulled out a plain letter, handing it to him with both hands.

  “Someone named Roy Crowe.”

  Thump.