Mei Rong stepped into the pool with the grace of someone entirely unbothered, submerging herself on the opposite side of Kazel. His smirk twitched at the corner, and though he didn't say it aloud, his gaze followed her with a mix of amusement and mild dismay.
She leaned back, arms resting along the pool's edge. "Fancy meeting you here, Sect Slayer."
"It's nice to meet you too, Mei Rong," Kazel replied, spreading his legs a bit further in the water, sinking into a comfortable sprawl as if to reclaim his territory through sheer relaxation. His tone was warm, but there was a teasing undercurrent in it—as if to say, you're the one who came to me, not the other way around.
Mei Rong tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly in intrigue. "So… are you here on personal funding, or is this thanks to your victory in the Scale Dalgona?"
"The latter," Kazel said without hesitation. "Wouldn't have bothered if it weren't free."
"I figured," she smiled faintly. "As for me… not exactly personal funding either. My uncle owns this place."
"Is that so?" Kazel lifted a brow, a quiet hum of realization in his voice.
"You haven't noticed?" Mei Rong asked, brushing a wet strand of hair behind her ear. "My name is Mei Rong, my sect patriarch is Bai Rong, and the major sponsor of the Jade Basin is Wu Rong. Connect the dots, Sect Slayer."
"Hah, of course…" Kazel chuckled under his breath. "Should've seen it sooner."
Kazel exhaled through his nose in amusement, closing his eyes for a second to enjoy the soothing warmth of the pool. But Mei Rong wasn't finished.
"So, Sect Slayer…" she said again, this time with a sharper edge of curiosity. "I've heard you vanquished a dangerous beast up in Northpeak. A Frostfang Alpha, wasn't it? Quite the tale."
Her eyes flicked to him. "That story's been dancing around here since morning. But of course, nothing eclipses the other part of your legacy—the slaying of sect disciples, that is."
She let out a small, elegant laugh—soft, but with a certain weight behind it.
Kazel's eyes remained closed, his grin faint. "Well, if the first part doesn't entertain them enough, the second one usually does the trick."
"I see that modesty wasn't one of the prizes you won," Mei Rong said, her smile widening as she floated a little closer.
"And I see curiosity wasn't something you could hide well," Kazel replied, cracking one eye open.
The steam curled between them, faint ripples chasing the silence.
Kazel let out a soft exhale and closed his eyes, letting the heat of the spirit pool settle into his bones. But it wasn't just the warmth of the water that wrapped around him—it was the purity of the energy saturating every droplet, every wisp of steam. He began his cultivation without a word, slipping into his soul space like a man stepping into a familiar room.
Inside, it was like a festival of energy—snapping, cracking, bursting.
The energy popped like candies, bright and volatile, like the sour and sweet ones that first bite your tongue then melt into something addictive. It raced through his spiritual veins, every pulse a little explosion of clarity and light. Never before had energy felt this pure, this wild, this free.
It didn't just seep into him—it rushed. Like a river through dry land, it filled every crevice of his being, washing away the fatigue from the journey, cleansing the lingering scars from his last fight. The Four Beasts within stirred as well, restless, awakened by the flood. The Frostfang lingered at the edges of the soul space, still new, still bristling. But even it bowed slightly beneath the weight of the energy that now saturated their shared world.
Kazel gritted his teeth slightly as his muscles twitched under the strain—not of pain, but of raw potential building inside. (This... this is different,) he thought. (No impurities, no resistance. This energy... it's the purest I've ever touched.)
The energy didn't just empower him—it was rebuilding him. Bit by bit. Breath by breath.
And in the center of it all, Kazel remained still—eyes closed, posture relaxed, as if nothing was happening at all.
Kazel opened his eyes, the warmth of the spirit pool still lingering on his skin. Night had fully descended, cloaking the world in soft silence and silver light. The moon, round and bold, sat proudly at the center of the sky like a crown above the basin. The buzz of cultivators had long faded, and even the spirit energy in the air seemed to hum a gentler tune now.
A voice broke the calm.
"Hello there, Kazel."
Kazel blinked, and slowly turned toward the figure stepping through the mist.
"You're..." He squinted, recognizing the familiar gait, the sharp yet serene aura. "...Xie Lian?"
Xie Lian stepped closer, the steam trailing off his robes like drifting feathers. "Surprised to see me?"
Kazel tilted his head lazily. "Well, unless you've mastered shapeshifting, not really."
"I see... You must've thought I was Mei Rong," said Xie Lian, a small smile playing on his lips. "She left hours ago."
Kazel leaned his head back against the smooth rock edge, gazing at the moon again. "The prize of the poor, the common thing of the rich."
"Congratulations on winning the Scale Dalgona," said Xie Lian, his voice polite but edged with something else—curiosity, maybe even caution.
Kazel let out a breath that bordered between a chuckle and a sigh. "Bit late, don't you think?"
"I did send my regards—my clan's too—back when you were bleeding out."
Kazel's eyes shifted back down to meet his. "Oh? So you did infiltrate my home."
"Of course," Xie Lian replied calmly, stepping into the pool without hesitation. "That's what an owl does."
"Really now?" Kazel narrowed his gaze just a little. "I thought owls only mimic the sound of their prey."
"Then you need to learn more."
Kazel smirked, his arms draped casually along the edge. "Indeed." His voice was soft, but under it, something unspoken stirred. Tension, history... calculation. The pool was calm, but the water between them? Anything but.
"Well, if you've got nothing important to say…" He started to stand, water cascading down his sculpted frame—until a sudden jolt ran through him. That familiar, ecstatic tingling spread from his core outward, like lightning flickering through his nerves. His eyes lit up as a smirk touched his lips. "Oh… looks like I advanced."
Xie Lian's brow lifted. "What do you mean?"
"I hit the ninth level of the Body Tempering Realm, of course," said Kazel with a casual tone, stepping out of the spirit pool and grabbing his towel. Droplets clung to his skin as he walked barefoot over the polished floor.
"You mean… you hadn't reached your peak yet at the Scale Dalgona?" Xie Lian's voice, for the first time, held a sliver of disbelief.
"Nope," Kazel replied, patting his shoulder dry with the towel. "Still had room to grow."
He tossed the towel around his neck and walked off without looking back, leaving Xie Lian standing in the bath, steam curling between them. Kazel's footsteps echoed lightly against the stone, growing fainter as he headed off to change back into his robes—every step now bearing the quiet strength of a man on the cusp of something greater.
Kazel descended to the second floor, his steps light but firm, a relaxed curiosity pulling at the corners of his mouth.( I should check out the second floor ) he thought as he stepped into the open-floor display hall.
The lighting was warm, almost golden, casting an inviting sheen across rows of weapons, armor, and trinkets locked safely behind crystal-clear glass. It was a place not quite like a market—this wasn't a space for haggling or shouting—but more a curated gallery where only the confident stepped forward to buy, and only the wealthy could afford to ask for the price.
His eyes wandered, until a murmur from the crowd tugged his attention. One corner of the floor brimmed with activity—a dense gathering forming a half-moon around one particular merchant. Kazel tilted his head, squinting over the bobbing heads.
(Hm? What's got them all bunched up?)
He pushed through politely, half-expecting to see a familiar, pudgy face gleaming with joy and salesmanship.
( Pao Pao? ) he thought hopefully—but no, the merchant at the center was someone else. Plainer looking. The man had a subdued presence, but clearly, his wares did all the talking.
Kazel felt a bit dejected for a moment—then someone clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"Well well, if it isn't the champion of Scale Dalgona."
The voice was unmistakably smug, too familiar to be mistaken.
Kazel turned his head slightly and gave a polite but firm gesture, grabbing the wrist and tossing the arm away with effortless ease.
"Jin Shui," he said, eyes narrowing just a touch. "What's this? All the surviving young masters just gathering here like flies to light. Though I don't see Batu—so I guess it's not all of us."
Jin Shui chuckled, brushing off the casual rejection of his greeting. "Surviving, huh? Funny word. A little dark, but fitting, considering the event."
"So, I take it you're here for the same thing?" Kazel asked.
"For the nuts?" said Jin Shui, brows raising. "Oh, you didn't know?"
Kazel arched a brow. "The nuts?"
"Yep." Jin Shui pointed toward the merchant's table. "He's got Soul Nuts for sale. That's what's got everyone crowding like kids before winter festival."
Kazel leaned to peek over the shoulders of a few onlookers—and sure enough, nestled on velvet-lined trays were massive walnuts, each about the size of an adult's hand. They looked earthy and ordinary, but the fact they were drawing this much attention meant otherwise.
"They're for feeding spirit beasts," Jin Shui continued. "A rare way to nurture them without the whole go out, hunt, kill method."
Kazel nodded slowly. "So they've turned spirit beast training into snacking, huh?"
"Pretty much," Jin Shui said with a grin. "But there's a catch. Not all of them are worth the price. Sometimes you crack one open and it's just… empty. Or weak. Trash-tier stuff."
"So it's gambling," Kazel said flatly.
"That's how they make money." Jin Shui shrugged. "You're not buying a nut—you're buying the chance."
Kazel looked again at the crowd—some were excited, some looked disappointed already, holding cracked-open shells in hand. He turned his gaze back to the merchant behind the stand. The man looked calm, like someone who knew exactly how many hopes would be dashed today.
And Kazel, with that lazy smile returning, rubbed his chin.
( I wonder what the odds are of me cracking something useful… )