The Jade Basin was unlike any place Kazel had stepped foot in. Hidden between two rugged mountain ranges, it looked less like a battlefield for cultivators and more like a place the world had chosen to rest. Terraces of moss and pale grass rolled down the slopes, and the air itself felt sharper, fresher—alive.
At its center lay the basin's treasure: a Spirit Pool, known for having the purest energy in the entire Land of the Lamb. Its surface was calm, but its presence was overwhelming. The energy here wasn't just thick—it was clean, undisturbed, and potent. It hummed beneath the skin of anyone who got close, like it could see right through their intentions.
But what made the Jade Basin truly stand apart was its people. They weren't a sect. No elders, no ranks, no rigid rules. Just a band of cultivators living under one name, loosely bound by shared respect and strength. Some were hunters. Some were mercenaries. Others were simply wanderers who found a place worth staying.
They didn't follow tradition—they followed instinct. You earned your place here not through status, but through action. No one cared about your background. Only what you could do, and who you stood with when it mattered.
This was the Jade Basin.
Wild.
Free.
Honest.
And not meant for the weak-hearted.
From the shortcut path—rugged, narrow, and thick with the scent of beasts—a familiar silhouette emerged. His walk was steady, unfazed. His hair was a mess, tossed and tangled by wind and blood. His robes, once pristine, were caked in mud and streaked with dust. His face bore scratches, dried blood under one eye, a smear across the cheek—but his expression?
Still smiling.
The passing cultivators, some sharpening weapons, others trading pelts and coin, paused to look. Their brows furrowed. Who the hell takes that path and walks out grinning?
He didn't care for their stares. He just kept walking, step after tired step, straight toward the heart of the Jade Basin.
It stood alone, this structure—the building. Largest because it was the only one. Widest for the same reason. A massive, layered lodge carved into the basin's belly, with wide beams of darkened wood and stone floors smooth from decades of footfalls. It wasn't ornate, but it didn't need to be. It was practical, and more importantly, it could host over a thousand bodies at once.
Kazel pushed the doors open, the wood groaning softly at his presence. Warm air rushed past him—firelight, chatter, metal clinks and the scent of hot stew filled the space. Nobody stopped him. No guards to test his worth at the door. This wasn't a sect. If you made it to the building alive, that was your ticket inside.
He walked straight toward the long desk where a single receptionist—a woman with short hair and a scar over her nose—was scribbling notes while chewing something bitter.
Kazel stopped in front of her, exhaled, and dropped his sack to the floor.
"Is the Spirit Pool open?" he asked, still smiling.
The woman glanced up, blinking once.
She gave him a once-over.His robes. His boots. The blood on his collar.Then the grin that didn't quite match the mess he wore.
"...Shortcut?" she asked, raising a brow.
"Shortcut," Kazel nodded.
She smirked, setting her notes aside."Pool's open. Third floor. Just don't bleed in it."
Kazel chuckled, "No promises."And with that, he picked up his sack and made his way deeper into the heart of the Jade Basin.
Kazel stepped onto the second floor, and immediately, the air changed. It wasn't just the warmth or the absence of beast-stench. It was the polish. The quiet elegance. No shouting merchants, no haggling customers. Just showcases—real glass displays with weapons that gleamed under subtle light, armor sets resting atop silk, accessories glowing faintly with bound energy.
Here, everything looked like it belonged to someone important.
He passed by a set of twin blades, their curves engraved with flowing silver lines. A spear leaned in a corner, its shaft carved with beastbone and its head like moonlit ice. Nothing was cheap here. No barkers or open stalls—just quiet, measured glances and nodded offers between seasoned warriors and cloaked merchants.
Kazel smiled to himself.( Perhaps I can find my new weapon here... )
But not now.
He continued upward to the third floor—the bathing floor, and more importantly, the place where the Spirit Pool waited.
The energy in the air thickened as he reached the reception desk. It hummed with potency, quiet but dense, like the world had exhaled and left nothing but purity behind.
A neat-haired receptionist sat behind the desk, flipping through a ledger. Kazel stepped forward.
"I believe I have a reservation under my name," he said.
The receptionist didn't even look up. "And your name?"
"Kazel. Of the Immortal Sect."
That made the pen stop mid-stroke. The receptionist blinked, then looked up, slowly.
"Wait a minute... you're Kazel? The Kazel?" The voice rose a pitch, loud enough for the nearby guests and bath attendants to turn their heads.
Kazel didn't even flinch. "Yes. Is there a problem?"
The receptionist laughed, slapping the ledger shut. "Problem? We hope you don't make one! Hahaha!"
More laughter followed from those nearby, but it wasn't mocking—it was almost nervous. Excited. The kind reserved for a figure who could turn tales into legend with just one swing.
"Welcome to the Jade Basin, young master! Let me confirm... Yes, you're booked for a full day in the Spirit Pool—twenty-four hours of uninterrupted soak in the purest energy water in the Land of the Lamb. Food, drink, rest? All provided. No need to step outside even once."
Kazel's brows raised. A smirk touched the corner of his mouth.
"Now that's something."
"Hahaha, enjoy your time, young master Kazel!" said the receptionist with a grin, already waving to an attendant nearby to guide him in.
With calm steps and that easy smile still playing on his lips, Kazel followed.Today wasn't for battle.Today, he would rest—finally—within the sacred waters of victory.
Kazel stepped into the bathing chamber, the soft mist rising around him like a curtain of silence. He unfastened his robe, letting it slide from his shoulders. The muscles across his torso were carved like tempered iron, a map of disciplined brutality and perseverance. His abs, tight and defined, caught the faint light of the glowing lanterns above.
He draped a white towel around his waist, then took a step toward the steaming Spirit Pool.
The water shimmered with a faint blue hue, laced with the purest form of energy found in the Land of the Lamb. The moment his foot touched the surface, it rippled with warmth and serenity. Kazel stepped in fully, lowering himself until the water lapped just above his waist. He let out a relaxed exhale, leaning back against a smooth stone ledge.
He looked around. Only a few others were scattered across the pool, quiet, minding their own business. No chatter. No fanfare.
( Probably too expensive for the crowd... At least I got this one for free, courtesy of my little game with Scale Dalgona. )
Kazel rolled his neck with a soft crack, letting the warmth seep into his sore muscles.
But then, his brows creased slightly.( Hm. Something's off… What is it? )He scanned the room left and right, brows drawing together in curious confusion.( Feels like I'm forgetting something… )
And then the wooden door slid open.
Kazel tilted his head up lazily, and there she was—Mei Rong.
She stood in the entrance with a thin towel hugging her form, steam curling around her figure like a scene out of a dream. Her eyes met his, and for a split second, the air between them tensed—not with conflict, but something far more subtle.
Kazel's eyes lit up in realization.( Ah… right. There's no separation between men and women in this place. This is a mixed bath, isn't it? )
A grin tugged on his lips as he leaned back a little deeper into the stone. He stretched both arms out casually across the back of the ledge, as if his limbs were laid out just for her choosing.
His head tilted. His smirk widened.
( Now then… which shoulder would you like to rest your head on, Mei Rong? )