Chapter 8: Kylian Joined the Sect! A Creature from the Sea!

The boy was none other than Kylian Thubron, the one the Thubron family had been hunting down! When Kylian woke up, he saw Nathaniel Urwin fumbling around on his right arm. He had mistaken Nathaniel for someone from the Thubron family and caused a ridiculous misunderstanding. But he understood it clearly by then. The man in front of him meant no harm, and the guard in Kylian's chest finally eased. When he heard that the Skysoar Sect was willing to take him in, something stirred inside him. Given his situation, there was only one road left. He had to join the Skysoar Sect. The Thubron family had mobilized their entire clan to kill him. Just yesterday, they had forced him to jump off a cliff! If fate had not spared him, he would have died there. Instead, he had met Byron Cutmore. "Kid," Nathaniel snapped, "say something. Are you joining my Skysoar Sect and becoming my master's personal disciple, or not?" Nathaniel had been waiting at the side until his patience ran out. He had already taken a slap from Kylian for no reason, and seeing the brat hesitate when their master asked a simple question made his temper flare. He smacked Kylian hard between the shoulder blades. Kylian sucked in a sharp breath, pain twisting his face. He shot Nathaniel a furious glare, then forced the words out through clenched teeth. "disciple Kylian Thubron greets master!" "Good." Byron nodded, satisfied. "From this day forward, you are my personal disciple." He gestured to the man beside Kylian. "The one next to you is Nathaniel Urwin. He's your Eldest Disciple." "And you have a senior sister as well. Her talent isn't great, so she's been burying her head in cultivation." Byron couldn't see anything special about Denise Lyson. He had even asked Adelynn Cougle, and Adelynn had said the same, nothing remarkable, just that her soul seemed a little stronger than most. So Byron had filed Denise away as someone with mediocre talent. As he spoke, he took out sect robes and a token and handed them to Kylian. "Nathaniel," Byron said, "take your junior brother around the sect. I'll head to the Tome Spire and find a couple of suitable techniques for your junior brother and junior sister." "Yes, master!" Nathaniel replied respectfully. Then his expression turned ugly as he looked Kylian up and down. "Junior Brother, come on. Walk with your senior brother." Before Kylian could protest, Nathaniel grabbed him by the collar and hauled him straight out of the hall. The moment they stepped outside- "Ahhh… Senior Brother… have mercy…!" Byron let out a soft chuckle and didn't bother interfering. He turned and headed for the Skysoar Sect's Tome Spire. From the system's introduction, Byron already knew that the sect's buildings came with basic starting resources. The pill pavilion, for example, had an initial reserve of a thousand pills. The Tome Spire had its own stock as well: a thousand techniques and martial skills. When Byron arrived, he went straight for the top floor. "I can't tell what kind of constitution Denise has," he muttered, "but she joined the sect on her own initiative. She deserves an Imperial-level Cultivation Method." He narrowed his eyes, thinking of Kylian. "As for him, that arm looks like some kind of bloodline power. His family may have produced a great figure in the past." Even though Byron's cultivation was gone, his experience and eye for talent remained. He could still judge what sort of method suited what sort of body. After careful selection, he finally found two Imperial-level Cultivation Method manuals, one suited to Denise Lyson and one suited to Kylian Thubron. Skysoar Sect Main Peak. Nathaniel had already returned to his residence to cultivate. Denise stood before Byron, stiff and unwilling, as if every second here offended her. Kylian, on the other hand, looked ready to burst with excitement. Inside, he was practically cheering. This sect was absurdly powerful. He had done nothing but stroll around the grounds, and his cultivation had already begun to press against a breakthrough. Byron handed a manual to each of them. "These are methods I chose personally for you two," he said. "Once you return, cultivate diligently. I have plenty of good things here. As long as your cultivation breaks through, you'll be rewarded." He paused, then added with a smile, "I won't tell you the grade of these methods. You only need to know one thing. They're extremely powerful." Denise forced the anger in her chest down, drew a slow breath, and said, "Thank you, master." Then she turned and left, manual in hand, without another word. Watching her go, Byron sighed to himself. Maybe Denise didn't like dealing with people. Once she got used to the sect, she would be fine. Kylian was the complete opposite. At that moment, he practically worshiped Byron like a second set of parents. He held the manual with trembling hands, eyes bright with emotion. "Thank you, master! This disciple won't disappoint you!" Byron's mood lifted instantly. Look at that. That was the attitude Kylian had. Unlike Denise. Bad temperament, bad talent. He would have to keep a closer eye on Denise. … Back in her residence, Denise took the manual Byron had given her and didn't even bother opening it. She tossed it under the bed. "Hmph. That trash master," she muttered. "He delayed this emperor's cultivation just to hand over a trash method." "I've already memorized hundreds of saint-grade methods. What could you possibly give me?" "An Imperial-level Cultivation Method? Pah." "Nathaniel is already in the Spirit Spring Realm. This emperor absolutely cannot lose to him!" And so, Denise left the Imperial-level Cultivation Method to gather dust while she cradled her own saint-grade method and threw herself into furious cultivation… Greenspire City, the Thubron family's main hall. "Clan head, Kylian Thubron fell off the cliff. His whereabouts are unknown." The Thubron family members who had been hunting him had returned. Christian Thubron sat in the seat of honor, eyes sharp as blades, his thoughts cold. Kylian's bloodline power had begun to awaken. If Kylian was allowed to live, he might threaten the Thubron family in the future. Christian's voice turned icy. "Mobilize every spirit hound in the clan. If he's alive, I want him brought to me. If he's dead, I want the corpse." The Thubron family's disciples immediately sprang into action, determined to dig Kylian out no matter where he had crawled. When the others had left, Christian silently pulled a worn piece of beast hide from his robes. "Kylian," he murmured, voice thick with malice, "the First Ancestor left guidance behind. Any time a descendant awakens the bloodline, the rest of the clan only needs to eat their flesh and drink their blood to ascend to the imperial throne with ease." "So for the sake of the Thubron family's future, you have to die." "When the time comes, the Thubron family will produce several great emperors. The entire Mystpeak Continent will kneel beneath our feet." "One life in exchange for the Thubron family's eternal prosperity. Don't be ungrateful…" He was still plotting when a clan member came sprinting in, panic written all over his face. "Report, Clan Head! The sea… someone came from the sea…" Christian jolted upright so fast his chair scraped. "Someone came from the sea again?" His brows crashed together. "They usually come once a year. It's only been three months!" Before he could think further, a blue streak of light flashed into the hall. "Clan Head Thubron…" The newcomer's voice dragged, strange and rough. "It's been a long time…" Christian's face went sickly green. He lowered his posture at once, forcing his tone into something respectful. "Crab Sea Envoy," he said carefully, "may I ask what brings you here this time?" The Crab Sea Envoy's body was wrapped in dark blue scales, and faintly, patterns like a crab shell showed through. His hands stayed tucked into his sleeves, but when they shifted, sharp pincers glinted at the fingertips. On either side of his face, swollen eye stalks trembled slightly. Black, bead-like eyes rolled and flicked as they watched the room. He was shaped like a man, yet most of his crab-like traits remained. The Crab Sea Envoy spoke slowly, each word stiff, as if carved out of stone. "Food… less… need ten… human cultivators…" Christian's expression turned iron-dark. Three months ago, they had already taken ten members of the Thubron family. And they were here for ten more. Did they really think the Thubron family was a granary?