Kazel sat comfortably, now fully dressed in his robe, the fabric neatly draped over his frame. Across from him, Arhatam nursed a cup of plain water, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim. The fresh red bump on his forehead was still faintly smoking, a testament to Kazel's earlier wrath. The two sat in a tense but familiar silence, the only sound being the occasional clink of the cup against the table.
On the table between them, a small stack of pouches lay untouched—undoubtedly filled with Spirit Stones.
"Kazel," Arhatam finally spoke, his voice wary.
Kazel leaned forward slightly, his expression unreadable. "Arhatam, as you might know, I'm rebuilding the Immortal Sect."
Arhatam blinked. "Yeah?"
"And I want you to join me."
The cup in Arhatam's hand nearly slipped. His brows shot up. "W-What?" He searched Kazel's face for any sign of jest, but the young tyrant was completely serious. "Are you sure?"
"I am."
Arhatam ran a hand through his hair, still stunned. "Then… what's the plan? How do I fit in? And more importantly… what do I get?"
Kazel smirked, expecting the question. "Accommodations. Your own abode within the Immortal Sect." He gestured toward the stack of pouches. "And of course, Spirit Stones. I've erased two sects; their treasuries now belong to me. But I can't hoard it all for myself—I need to lay a strong foundation, and that foundation is the Immortal Sect."
Arhatam hesitated, glancing at the pouches before looking back at Kazel. "But…"
"Of course, the sect is still in ruins," Kazel admitted. "I'll either visit you or send someone to retrieve you once the rebuilding is complete."
Arhatam opened his mouth to speak, but a new voice interrupted.
"Is your father okay with this?"
The two turned to see Noel stepping into the living room, his presence calm yet authoritative. His eyes landed on Kazel, scanning his son's condition before a smile curved his lips. "It's alright. My say is his say."
Kazel nodded in gratitude, a quiet but firm understanding passing between father and son.
Arhatam exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple. (Damn… I'm envious.)
"Father, where have you been?" Kazel asked, watching as Noel stepped into the room, exhaling deeply as if he had just escaped from a battlefield.
"You wouldn't believe it," Noel sighed, rolling his shoulders. "I'd rather be swinging a sword in the backyard, but instead, I've been drowning in invitations from the remaining three sects."
Kazel smirked knowingly. "Of course. They want to befriend us."
Noel nodded before dropping onto a seat, his exhaustion evident. "They're being cautious. Nobody expected us to take down two sects in a single day. Now, everyone wants to be on our good side."
Just then, Lana entered, balancing a tray of tea and cookies. She placed it down gracefully. "Then we should pay them a visit," she suggested, pouring a cup for Noel.
"That's impossible," Noel shook his head, already reaching for a cookie. "I'm beat." He took a bite before casually offering the tray to Arhatam.
"It's not entirely impossible," Kazel countered. He leaned back, tapping his fingers on the table. "They want to meet me. And I have time."
"I-I think I should go," Arhatam muttered, already making a move to stand.
"Stay," Kazel said flatly. "You stay, Arhatam."
"A-Are you sure?" Arhatam hesitated, glancing between him and Noel.
"You want another bump?" Kazel raised a brow.
"No thanks," Arhatam mumbled, immediately sitting back down, rubbing the faint mark on his forehead.
Kazel shifted his attention back to his father. "I've seen the gifts pouring in. Most of them are useless to me, but they'd be beneficial for rebuilding the sect." He tapped his knuckles against the wooden table. "And before I visit the sects, I need to see Old Pao."
Noel raised a brow before sighing. "Sadly, you're too late. Uncle Pao isn't in the Land of the Lamb anymore."
Kazel's smirk faded. "What?"
"He left," Arhatam confirmed with a nod. "He was the one who asked me to watch over you, saying something about the wind calling his merchant instincts elsewhere."
"Heh." Kazel leaned back, crossing his arms. "That erratic old man. Never stays in one place for too long."
Lana straightened slightly. "You mentioned rebuilding the sect. What about the two now-empty sects?"
"They're ours," Noel answered. "Even the local bandits didn't dare touch anything after what you did."
"Then we should dismantle them and use the materials to rebuild the Immortal Sect," Kazel stated without hesitation. "I don't have enough men right now to guard and maintain multiple locations, so it's better to consolidate our resources."
"D-Destroy?" Lana raised a brow. "Wouldn't that be wasteful?"
"It's more wasteful to let those places rot and collect dust," Kazel countered with a smirk. "We should have enough money to rebuild the Immortal Sect, right, Father?"
Noel took a sip of tea before nodding. "Yes. In fact, we might even be able to expand it."
"No," Kazel corrected, his expression turning sharp. "We should invest in higher-quality abodes first, not just widen the space. I want the Immortal Sect to be luxurious, exquisite." His blue eyes gleamed. "We need to look powerful—because we are."
Kazel stepped outside with Arhatam walking slightly behind him. The moment they entered the bustling market, the lively chatter and the rhythmic clatter of trade came to a halt. Every pair of eyes turned toward the young master who had dominated the rumors for the past week.
For a brief moment, silence stretched across the marketplace. Vendors froze mid-bargain, their hands hovering over silver coins and spirit stones. Patrons who had been discussing mundane affairs now whispered behind their palms. Some faces lit up in admiration, while others eyed him with a mixture of awe and caution.
Arhatam faltered, the weight of so many stares making his steps hesitant. "Damn... you really shook the world, huh?" he muttered under his breath.
Kazel, however, walked as if he owned the very ground beneath him. The gazes didn't faze him; they only reaffirmed his presence. He smirked as he glanced at the stalls lining the street. "See anything you like?" he asked casually. "Take your pick, and I'll buy it for you."
"N-No, not at the moment," Arhatam stammered, hastily shaking his head before quickening his pace to keep up.
Among the crowd, some smiled at him, nodding respectfully. Some parents ushered their children away, while others clung to their mother's legs, peeking out at him with wide, curious eyes. Then, a small, brave voice broke through the murmurs.
"Y-Young master! I want to be strong like you!"
Kazel halted, arching a brow as his gaze landed on the child—a boy no older than six, standing with clenched fists and an eager expression. His mother gasped, instinctively pulling him back.
"S-Sorry, my l—"
Kazel raised a hand, silencing the mother before she could scold her son. Slowly, he knelt down, leveling his gaze with the boy's. He placed a firm yet gentle hand on the child's head. "To be strong like me... That would be a task greater than seizing the heavens," he said, his voice steady, carrying weight beyond his years. "But..." He smirked, ruffling the boy's hair. "It's not impossible. Nothing ever is."
The boy's eyes widened, shimmering with admiration. He stood frozen in place, as if the words had lit a fire deep within him.
Kazel straightened and continued walking, leaving behind a child with a dream burning brighter than before.
Kazel stood in front of Arhatam's modest abode, the wooden structure standing sturdy despite its simple design. He turned slightly, glancing back at his friend. "Well, I'll visit you later as promised. Of course, you're always welcome at my home."
Arhatam crossed his arms, leaning against the doorway. "Thanks, but where are you off to now?"
"The Ironhide Sect."
"What?!" Arhatam's posture straightened in alarm. "That's the Northern Peak! That's insanely far!" He pointed in the direction of the towering, snow-covered mountains. "You should at least take a horse. Do you even know how long it'll take to get there on foot?"
Kazel smirked, his gaze drifting toward the distant peak. "I'll be fine." He waved a casual goodbye, stepping off into the road without a second thought.
Arhatam sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Crazy bastard…" he muttered, watching Kazel disappear down the street.
The wind was crisp as Kazel set his eyes on the Northern Peak, the Ironhide Sect's domain. Snow blanketed the upper reaches of the mountain, but to him, it was just another challenge to overcome. He welcomed the cold, the long road ahead, and the thin air that awaited him at the peak.
(That Green Tortoise… or was it Turtle? Whatever it is, it'll make a fine addition to my arsenal,) Kazel thought, a smirk tugging at his lips. With a steady pace, he began his journey, his steps unwavering.