DING!System Alert: Lyra Leonhart has advanced to Grade 1 Alchemist.Reward: Rare Alchemist's Handbook – Tier 2 (Top-Grade) + 5,000 Fate Points.
Leo opened his eyes slowly.
The chamber around him was silent, save for the faint crackle of spiritual fire drifting from his palms.
He exhaled lightly.
"She did it," he murmured. "and she was faster than i expected."
The system's reward hovered before him a glowing jade scroll, encoded with the insights and formulas of a peak Tier-2 alchemist.
This… is just what she needs next.
The Leonhart Clan had risen swiftly in Blazecity, but their foundation was thin. Their highest-ranked alchemists barely scratched the threshold of Tier-1.
Letting someone like Lyra be mentored by them would be a waste of her potential — even an insult.
This handbook, on the other hand, held the essence of a true master.
"Good timing, we need this if we want to improve the foundation of our entire clan" Leo muttered as he stretched his limbs.
Seven days in closed-door cultivation had not only sharpened his foundation — his strength had broken into Transcendent Stage Level 5.
But numbers weren't what made him smile.
He raised his hand, and the sword resting by his side trembled.
For a moment, the air warped.
A faint ripple fully invisible to the untrained eye shimmered from the blade and carved a line of pressure across the stone walls, it stretched from the bottom of the floor to the roof.
Sword Intent.
A concept spoken of only in ancient texts. Said to be grasped only by those who transcended body and spirit — usually Soul Stage cultivators or higher.
But here he was.
"Although it's only the first step towards Sword Dao" he said under his breath, "but I am one step closer to the peak and that's what matters."
[Understanding the Sword]
In the Great World, the martial path had many roads.
Some walked the Way of the Fist, others the Path of the Flame, or the Art of the Thousand Seals. But among them all, the Way of the Sword was known for its sharpness and purity.
Sword mastery was not just technique. It was will.
Those who transcended technique could grasp "intent" — a projection of their understanding of the sword itself.
From lowest to highest:
Sword Pressure – raw presence, often awakened in Blood Stage or Core Break Stage.
Sword Intent – projection of will; invisible blades, mental suppression.
Sword Domain – area control; a battlefield ruled by sword laws.
Sword Dao – the final path. A divine law unto itself.
Leo had now stepped onto the second tier — true intent.
"With my current cultivation, my top-grade innate body, and this newborn Sword Intent..."
He paused, eyes narrowing.
"Even if I faced a Soul Stage cultivator head-on, I might not win... but I wouldn't die, either."
That mattered.
In a world where the gap between stages was like heaven and earth, surviving was half the battle.
Meanwhile, in the Southern District of Blazecity…
At one of the Leonhart Clan's managed marketplaces, chaos was unfolding.
It began with two boys, barely in their teens, squabbling over a merchant's herbs.
The argument escalated. Words turned sharp. Then, fists flew.
The crowd barely had time to react before the younger boy, lean and sharp-eyed, launched forward with Skin Stage Level 5 power.
The crowd gasped.
"At that age?!"
"Must be from one of the noble houses."
"Reckless. He's going to get himself killed…"
But the target — a round-faced boy with a lazy grin — twisted at the last second, narrowly avoiding the punch.
And in that moment, his aura flared.
Skin Stage Level 9… almost Bone Stage.
It was no accident. The chubby boy's face flickered with the barest hint of a smirk.
Gotcha.
That punch had come from Yan Leonhart, grandson of a Leonhart elder. His opponent? Tianqi Drake — youngest son of the Drake Clan's patriarch, and brother to none other than Gavin Drake, the famed disciple of the Skycloud Sect.
"One punch," Tianqi thought smugly. "That's all I needed. Now I've got a witness — and an excuse."
He wasn't here to shop.
This was a setup.
"Once I go back and cry foul, father will reward me. Gavin also said he'd give me a bottle of Tempering Essence. If I hit Bone Stage by sixteen, he'll take me to the Skycloud sect himself."
He licked his lips in anticipation.
BOOM!
The next instant, his smugness vanished.
A palm struck his chest like a hammer made of iron and fire.
He flew backward like a ragdoll, rolling across the cobblestones until he crashed into a stall, scattering fruit and wood.
"Gah—!"
Blood spewed from his mouth.
"Enough!" barked a harsh voice.
A tall man in Leonhart guard robes stepped forward, his aura simmering.
He knelt briefly beside Yan.
"Young master Yan, are you hurt?"
"I'm fine…" the boy muttered, surprised.
The guard turned toward the collapsed Tianqi with a cold glare.
"You dare attack in Leonhart territory? Did you think no one would intervene?"
Tianqi coughed violently, anger and humiliation burning his face.
"Y-You don't know who I am…"
"Oh, we know," the guard snapped. "You're a heir of Drake and your brother's Gavin. But this is our domain, not the Skycloud Sect's."
He stood tall and showed no intent to bow down his head, he said
"You picked the wrong stage for your little performance, Drake boy."
Somewhere deep within the Leonhart estate, in a sealed meditation chamber lined with formation runes and flickering soulfire lanterns, Leo's eyes slowly opened.
The air around him seemed to still.
A blurry ripple had pulsed through the Eye of Fate, faint but sharp and yet, even through that fragmented vision, Leo saw enough.
A thread of karma had been stirred. The pieces were small, but the intent behind them was not.
Tianqi Drake, he hummed.
As he exhaled slowly, a breath that seemed to carry both amusement and a flicker of cold calculation.
The Drakes are making their move. Testing waters… poking boundaries. Not unexpected.But still, to use their own son as bait? Is it Desperation or confidence?
His gaze shifted toward the far wall toward where Blazecity's bustling skyline lay just beyond stone and steel.
"They've started testing the edges," he murmured calmly "They want to make sure that I am fully dead."
He paused, fingers brushing the ancient hilt of his sword. He didn't yet need it. Not for a child's trick.
But they will need to learn, he thought, the gleam in his eye sharpening.If they tug at fate's strings, I will remind them who weaves the tapestry.
His hand dropped away from the blade.
"Then let's give them something to fear," he said aloud, lips curling into a faint, knowing smile.
"Let's give them… clarity."
He turned, the chamber behind him sealing shut with a hum of warding light.
Outside, Blazecity carried on unaware that in one quiet moment, the storm had begun to stir.