“No,” Edmund said calmly. “From the first time you met him, you were already hostile. And at that time, he hadn’t done anything to your family.”

  Lauren pressed her lips together.

  In this life, he hadn’t. In the previous one— Indiana had brought Timothy and others to the Evercrest family.

  Back then, the Evercrest clan had no protective formation.

  Her grandfather hadn’t even reached Golden Core. Indiana alone could have slaughtered them.

  Timothy and the others had simply ensured no one escaped.

  Edmund noticed the shift in her expression. “What is it?”

  Lauren shook her head. “Nothing.”

  Then she added lightly, “Go check on your senior brother. He’s been in seclusion for ages and still hasn’t broken through.”

  “Advancing to Spirit Severing is naturally slower,” Edmund replied. “It took you three years to reach Nascent Soul.”

  “I spent those three years widening my meridians,” she said calmly. “If I’m going to climb higher, I might as well build a foundation that won’t collapse.”

  .......

  Several days later, violent spiritual fluctuations erupted from the direction of Tarot’s secluded cave.

  The sky above Starfell Summit, which had been clear moments ago, suddenly churned.

  Wind howled.

  Clouds gathered at terrifying speed, spiraling inward until they formed a massive vortex overhead.

  White clouds darkened to gray—

  Gray deepened to black—

  Until the entire sky turned into a swirling mass of inky darkness.

  Driven by violent winds, the clouds rolled and twisted like ink spilled into water, staining the heavens into something that looked almost painted.

  Lauren stared upward.

  “Senior Brother’s about to break through.”

  Edmund nodded.

  “He’s about to succeed.”

  “That’s great,” she said, unable to hide her smile. “I haven’t seen him in ages. But… this phenomenon looks strange.”

  Edmund’s brows drew together.

  After a moment, he spoke flatly.

  “Your senior brother cultivates demonic arts.”

  Lauren’s eyes widened.

  “What? That’s impossible.”

  Edmund glanced at her.

  “Why impossible?”

  She hesitated.

  Because… demonic arts were taboo. Forbidden. Feared.

  Edmund’s expression shifted slightly, as though he’d just pieced something together.

  “The world is filled with strange and wondrous cultivation methods. Who decides what is righteous and what is demonic? Good and evil belong to people—not techniques.”

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  He looked back at the vortex.

  “Your master dared to teach demonic arts openly at Starfell Summit. He must believe the same.”

  Lauren fell silent.

  Her master’s perspective had always been… detached from conventional rules.

  For some reason, she thought of the Flower Wife.

  If that woman had met her master back then— Would she have walked such a mad path?

  A layer of soft white light suddenly rose over Starfell Summit, forming a protective veil.

  From outside, anyone looking in would only see dark clouds and assume rain was coming.

  No one would sense the truth.

  Lauren turned. Drake stood behind her, hands clasped behind his back, watching the vortex calmly.

  “Master.”

  She bowed quickly.

  Drake’s gaze never left the swirling darkness.

  “People are foolish,” he said evenly. “They confuse different paths with good and evil.”

  Lauren understood immediately.

  Even so, he could not openly declare that Tarot cultivated demonic arts.

  The Thunder Sect was still a righteous sect.

  When Dante advanced to Spirit Severing, heavenly lightning had descended. Multicolored light bathed the sky. Divine rain had fallen.

  Tarot’s breakthrough… Was nothing like that.

  Demonic qi surged toward the heavens, merging with the thick black mist.

  Within that fog, shapes seemed to twist and coil. At times, two beams of red light flashed from inside.

  Edmund spoke quietly. “Eyes of the Heavenly Demon.”

  Lauren’s breath caught.

  “He’s undergoing the Heavenly Demon’s trial.”

  Two full hours passed. Gradually, the swirling mist thinned. The black vortex shrank— Then was pulled inward, absorbed entirely into Tarot’s body.

  The red lights vanished. The sky cleared.

  Tarot stood in midair, robes fluttering, complexion restored to a healthy glow.

  He looked exactly as he had before— But the aura around him was deeper. Sharper.

  He descended swiftly. Landing before Drake and Lauren, he bowed deeply.

  “Master. I succeeded.”

  Drake gave a small nod.

  “Very good.”

  Lauren grinned. “Congratulations, Senior Brother.”

  Tarot winked at her, looking far too pleased with himself.

  Drake reached into his sleeve and took out a jade slip. He handed it to Tarot.

  Tarot took it, glanced at its contents— And froze.

  “Master?”

  “It contains the perfected second half of your cultivation method,” Drake said calmly. “Cultivate it diligently.”

  Tarot’s expression grew solemn. He dropped to his knees and kowtowed. “Thank you, Master.”

  “Get up,” Drake said lightly. “Go fetch your disciple.”

  Tarot blinked. “My… what?”

  Lauren also stared at Drake.

  Drake remained perfectly composed.

  “This year, the sect is recruiting disciples. I’ve accepted one on your behalf.”

  Tarot looked horrified. “Master, no. I don’t have time to raise a disciple. I still have to collect debts for you.”

  “That is the sect’s rule,” Drake replied coldly. “You cannot take wages without contributing. Now that you’ve advanced to Spirit Severing, you must invest your effort into nurturing the Thunder Sect’s future.”

  Tarot faltered. “I… but…”

  “I did not wish to accept disciples either,” Drake said mildly. “Yet I accepted several.”

  Lauren: “…”

  Tarot: “…”

  “Yes, Master,” Tarot said weakly. “Where is… my disciple?”

  “The orphanage.”

  Lauren blinked.

  Still at the orphanage?

  Tarot’s face went pale.

  He swallowed.

  “May I ask, Master… how old is this disciple?”

  “Six.”

  Tarot physically staggered.

  Six?

  Six years old?!

  That meant— Eating. Sleeping. Bathing. Possibly bed-wetting.

  Possibly crying at night. Possibly needing bedtime stories.

  He broke into a cold sweat. “Master… perhaps we could let him remain at the orphanage for another year or two? Bring him back when he’s older?”

  Drake’s expression chilled instantly. “When you became my disciple, you were also six.”

  Silence.

  “Did I leave you in the orphanage for two more years?”

  Tarot closed his eyes briefly.

  Defeated. “Yes, Master. I’ll go immediately.”

  He turned and flew down the mountain, looking as though he was marching toward execution.

  Drake then shifted his gaze to Lauren. “Work hard. Within ten years, take on a disciple as well.”

  Lauren stiffened. “…Yes, Master.”

  Drake’s expression softened slightly.

  He thought to himself— Girls are definitely more obedient.

  .......

  Not long after, Tarot returned. Behind him stood a beautifully sculpted little boy.

  The child’s eyes were bright and clear—too clear, almost intelligent for someone so small.

  Lauren crouched slightly. “What’s your name?”

  The boy bowed with perfect etiquette.

  “Wayne Sharpe greets Miss. Lauren.”

  Another Sharpe?

  Lauren blinked. “You’re from the Sharpe family?”

  “Yes.”

  She glanced at Tarot. “What kind of spiritual root? Why didn’t Cornelius take him to his own peak?”

  Tarot answered calmly, “He also has a dark spiritual root.”

  Ah.

  That explained everything. Master had clearly prepared this child for Senior Brother.

  Lauren hesitated. “Does he have to hide it too?”

  Tarot shook his head gently.

  “Master hopes that one day, dark spiritual roots will be accepted like any other. The cultivation method I practice now has already been modified. It’s no longer true demonic arts. When I reach the later stages, I won’t need to conceal it.”

  Lauren nodded slowly.

  As Master said— The world is ignorant. Not everyone can distinguish good from evil. In this world, dark spiritual roots automatically meant “demonic cultivator.”

  Maybe one day, that stigma would fade.

  “Did you take him to see Master?” she asked.

  “Of course. We just came from there.”