"Alright, the time is nigh!" The merchant raised his hand like a seasoned auctioneer. His voice cut through the excited buzz. "Ten thousand spirit stones for each attempt—who wants to go first?"
That number hit the crowd like a slap.
"Ten thousand?!" a cultivator blurted out, voice cracking with disbelief.
"It was five thousand last time!" another yelled, brows furrowed as if inflation had just personally insulted his ancestors.
But the merchant merely smiled, the calm of a man who had dealt with enough entitled buyers to be immune. "Supply and demand, cultivators, supply and demand," he said with a shrug, like he was teaching toddlers the law of the land.
As the grumbles continued, a new voice sliced cleanly through them.
"Here. Let me go first."
It wasn't loud, but it didn't need to be. The voice carried a distinct confidence, not arrogance—assurance. Feminine, yet sharp, masked behind a subtle but commanding presence.
Heads turned, parting slightly to reveal the figure stepping forward. She wore simple but elegant robes, dark violet with silver trim. And a mask—plain white, featureless, save for a subtle floral pattern etched across one side.
The crowd hushed, murmuring guesses. A noble? A rogue cultivator? An assassin?
But Kazel's gaze sharpened. He didn't need more clues. That voice stirred something from his memory—not something distant, but recent, still warm, still lingering.
( Could it be...? )
His eyes narrowed slightly, arms folded across his chest as he tilted his head just a bit. Not many could stir him with just a sentence.
The merchant grinned as the masked woman handed him a hefty pouch. He gave it a quick shake and grin widened even further. "To the exact cent. Spirit stones, all accounted for. Alright, miss cultivator—step right up."
She nodded once and moved toward the display.
Kazel observed her carefully, arms still folded. Something about the way she carried herself—so calm, so deliberate—it was familiar. Too familiar.
"Do you know her?" Jin Shui whispered, leaning in slightly.
"You could say that," Kazel replied, eyes not leaving the woman for a second.
Jin Shui gave a small hum, intrigued, and turned his attention fully to the unfolding scene.
The masked woman tapped her fingers lightly across the Soul Nuts on the table, one by one. Each knock gave off the same hollow, wooden sound. Unimpressed cultivators muttered under their breath, while others watched in anticipation.
Then she picked one.
With a casual motion, she held it in both hands and applied pressure. Crack. The shell split neatly, flaking away to reveal its core.
The crowd leaned in.
Inside was… just a nut.
Brown, earthy, ordinary. No glow. No mist. Nothing special.
"Hmm?" Kazel's brows lifted slightly.
"The content should always be a nut," Jin Shui began, speaking like someone who had played this game more than once, "but with mist—comes grade."
He glanced at the dull, lifeless nut in the woman's palm.
"No mist at all means it's the lowest kind. A no-grade. It's like a consolation prize—you can eat it, I guess."
Kazel raised a brow. "And what are the mist types?"
"Gray, green, blue, yellow, purple… and then the rarest—red," Jin Shui explained, crossing his arms. "The stronger the mist, the better the nourishment for your spirit beast. But this one?" He clicked his tongue. "She just burned ten thousand spirit stones for a snack."
Before the murmurs had even settled, the masked woman raised her hand again—and placed another pouch on the table.
"Again," she said calmly.
A collective gasp rose from the crowd. Eyes widened.
Ten thousand more, just like that.
Jin Shui let out a low whistle. "Well, either she's rich... or she's desperate."
Kazel said nothing, but his eyes narrowed slightly. That calm, unbothered demeanor. That voice. That confidence.
( Yeah... I definitely know her. )
The mysterious cultivator reached out and grabbed another Soul Nut at random.
Crack.
Nothing.
Again.
Crack.
Still nothing.
The crowd's earlier excitement began to wilt into awkward silence. A few cultivators exchanged glances. One of them couldn't help but whisper, "L-Lady, perhaps… you should stop?"
"Shut up," she snapped, her voice sharp and unyielding. "Again."
Another pouch landed on the table with a soft thud. The merchant, unfazed, took it with a grin and stepped aside.
Blank. Again.
The woman clicked her tongue and stepped back, exhaling with restrained irritation. Her poise didn't falter, but even behind the mask, one could feel her pride smarting.
Meanwhile, Kazel stood quietly in the back, arms crossed, a familiar glint in his eye.
( Shishi. )
( Yes? ) both voices in his soul answered.
( Any way around this Soul Nut gamble? )
( Frostfang might help, ) one said cautiously, ( but don't count on it. )
( Out of two nuts, how many are we talking? One? )
( One. Or none. Frostfang's nose is sharp, but he's not trained for this kind of scent. )
( Fair enough, ) Kazel thought, then casually stepped forward and pulled out a pouch.
"Oi?" Jin Shui blinked, surprised, as the soft clinking of spirit stones echoed from Kazel's hand onto the merchant's table.
The murmurs started again—but this time, with a spark of recognition.
The merchant paused mid-count and raised his brows. "Ah, another customer! Wait… that robe… that one-shoulder cape—are you perhaps… the Sect Slayer? Young Master Kazel of the Immortal Sect?"
Gasps rippled across the crowd.
"That's him?"
"The one who destroyed two sects?"
"He's wearing it! The Immortal Sect's robe!"
"The one-shoulder cape… yeah, that's Kazel!"
A wind seemed to blow through the floor.
The woman's eyes widened behind her mask. Her pupils dilated.
( …No. It can't be. )
( That's… him? That thief… that boy… the one who stole the Shishis from me...)
Kazel, meanwhile, merely stood still, watching the crowd with half-lidded eyes, chin slightly raised, like none of this concerned him. Beside him, Jin Shui chuckled with arms folded.
"Well, now it feels like the party's started."
The merchant, full of new reverence, finished counting and bowed slightly. "May fortune smile upon you, Young Master Kazel. May the Soul Nuts reward someone of your… caliber."
Kazel didn't bow back. He only smirked.
( Let's see if your luck is worth ten thousand spirit stones… or the weight of my name. )
( Frostfang. )Kazel called inwardly, and his body reacted in kind. A pulse of energy moved through him—not with force, but with quiet command. The shift was subtle, yet unmistakable. His posture didn't change, but his presence did. A slow thrum filled the air, like the sound before a storm.
And everyone felt it.
The cultivators near the stall tensed, their chatter dying out. The masked lady narrowed her eyes.( This isn't Shishi… )Jin Shui straightened beside Kazel.( So this is the Frostfang… )
Kazel sniffed lightly. The scent of the market was muddled—dozens of hands had handled the Soul Nuts, and the musk of cultivators clung to them like dust.
( Ugh… the smell is all over the place. )He stepped forward and raised his voice. "Everyone, step back."
There was no aggression in his tone. No force. Yet they obeyed. Instinctively, silently, like prey recognizing a predator. The crowd took a clean step back without complaint.
"More," Kazel added.
And like a well-trained formation, they stepped again—synchronized and neat, as if compelled by an invisible thread.
"Good," Kazel muttered, eyes closing. He raised one hand slightly, fingers open as though feeling the current in the air. The bustling market faded behind him. All that remained was the scent—the swirl of nut and spirit and instinct.
( Clearer now… )
His head tilted.( There. That one… peculiar fragrance… nutty, but with a bite. Could be it. )
Without hesitation, his hand swooped in like a hawk snatching prey. The motion was so smooth, so sudden, it made the air hiss.
"He has chosen!" Jin Shui called, voice brimming with anticipation.
The crowd, as if choreographed, stepped two paces forward—eager to witness what would come of this pick.
"Is that your final choice?" the merchant asked, reverently now.
"Yes," said Kazel, not even looking at him.
"Then it's yours," the merchant nodded.
Kazel raised the nut, turned it once between his fingers—then crushed it with his bare hand.
Snap.
A soft hiss escaped the cracks. Then came the glow—mist began to rise from the core.
"Blue…" someone whispered.
"Blue mist!"
Gasps rippled through the watchers.
A rich blue vapor curled into the air, pure and vivid as lapis. The Soul Nut's reward. One of the better grades.
( Lucky brat… ) the masked lady gritted her teeth behind the mask. Watching the calm expression on Kazel's face only twisted the knife deeper.( I spent nearly a hundred thousand spirit stones and nothing. He steps up once… and blue. )
The young master of the Immortal Sect had made his move.
And the Soul Nut had answered him.
Kazel's fingers dusted off the last flake of the crushed nut from his palm as the blue mist slowly faded. He let the murmurs roll over him like background noise—praise, awe, jealousy. Nothing new. What did catch his interest was the weight of a stare. He didn't need to search for it. He already knew where it came from.
His eyes slid to the side, locking onto the masked lady.
Or rather—Ondira.
That was a name he hadn't heard in a long time. But the posture, the subtle twitch of her fingers, even beneath the cloak… he knew. That was her.
He offered her a smile—not smug, not mocking. Just enough to sting.
And then, with all the elegance of a noble and the cockiness of a street brat, Kazel winked and brushed past her, the edge of his one-shoulder cape grazing her cloak. Barely touching. Barely not.
He turned to walk away.
"Wait right there."
Her voice cut like a whip. Firm. Direct.
Kazel stopped mid-step.
But he didn't turn around.
The entire second level of the Jade Basin stilled. It was like the air had thickened. The hum of voices died off in a wave, and even the merchant seemed unsure whether to breathe too loudly.
The scent of energy lingered in the air like ozone. The champion of the Scale Dalgona had been challenged—maybe not to a duel, but to something. And that something was enough to drag every pair of eyes back to the masked woman and the young master in robes and cape.