CHAPTER 86: CONVICTION - 1

"What?"

"That man... he went to Silverwood with his big monster and proclaimed himself the new lord there." The guard remained kneeling, his body trembling as a heavy silence fell over the room.

"I knew it!" Aiden’s voice shattered the quiet. He slammed his fist on the table, sending a goblet of wine skittering across the polished wood.

"See? That bastard not only survived, but now he dares to claim a city for himself."

The other four heirs said nothing, each lost in their own deep thoughts.

After a long moment, Daemon raised his eyes to stare at Anya.

"Why do you think he did that?"

"Obviously, after getting a little stronger, that worthless—" Aiden began to snarl.

"I have no idea," Anya cut him off, her voice a soft murmur. Her gaze turned distant, her pupils glowing with a faint green light.

"He is far stronger than any of us. Stronger than the entire province combined into a single army. If his goal was to rule this land, no offence, Prince Daemon, he could have simply walked into the capital and usurped the throne. No one could have stopped him."

She paused, her words hanging in the tense air.

"But he didn’t..." Daemon leaned back in his chair. The weariness in his eyes was so profound that dark, bruised circles of exhaustion had formed beneath them.

The once vibrant and confident prince was now a shadow of his former self, even with a newfound strength that could rival the first ancestor of his family.

All because of one man.

His gaze drifted to Joric Ashton, who had remained utterly silent the entire time. After the death of Kaelen and the slaughter of the family’s most talented disciples, the Ashton clan should have been in chaos.

But because of this one man’s survival, they had been given a new chance to breathe. He was their new heir.

Daemon still had no idea how Joric had survived Kaelen’s blood worm attack. According to Shade, blood worms were a parasitic species from the demonic realm.

Blood demons would hatch the eggs and feed the worms with their own blood, turning the creatures into a living extension of their body and will.

Once planted in a host, the worms were undetectable. They would slowly corrupt the host’s blood until it, too, became an extension of the planter.

There was no known cure. It was still a mystery why Joric alone had survived.

Did Kaelen simply forget to implant the worm in him?

Impossible.

There was something strange in Joric that he couldn’t pinpoint. It was always like this man was shrouded in a veil no one could probe into.

Shade had warned him to be wary of this man.

Before the Labyrinth, Daemon would have scoffed at such a warning. ’I, the great prince and future emperor, will not be scared by the heir of a fallen family.’

But the Labyrinth had taught him a harsh lesson. It had opened his eyes. He was not the same arrogant boy who had eyes but could not see Mount Tai.

He was a changed man.

"That man’s aim was never the province," Joric suddenly spoke, his voice cutting through the heavy atmosphere. His words instantly changed the feeling in the room.

"Oh?" Aiden laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. "Then what? Does he want the whole Whisperwood?"

He looked around as if he had told a funny joke, but no one mirrored his amusement. They all seemed frozen in their seats, a new terrifying possibility dawning on them.

"Don’t tell me you all actually believe that. The Whisperwood is—"

"You fool," Lysander breathed, his voice heavy. "He isn’t talking about the Whisperwood. He’s talking about the world beyond it. The people outside. For the gods’ sake, that man wants to own the entire fucking world."

*

* *

"That’s absurd... truly absurd." Derin the Abandoned shook his head, his voice laced with a weary disbelief.

"To own the world? Fellow Daoist, even if I believed you possessed such strength, why would you start here? We are just old bones and abandoned souls. What could we possibly offer you besides our heads?"

Rhys said nothing. He simply held out his hand, and a single, crystalline object materialised in his palm. It pulsed with a gentle, purple light, radiating an energy so pure and vibrant that it felt like holding a piece of life itself.

Derin’s eyes widened, a sharp intake of breath hissing through his teeth. "This is..."

"A Lifespan Crystal," Rhys stated, his voice calm and even. "A single piece can add one hundred years to your life."

He watched as a cascade of emotions flashed across the commander’s face: surprise, then awe, which quickly hardened back into deep suspicion.

"You’re showing me this... but not for the reason I think, are you?" Derin asked, his gaze sharp.

"This is some kind of trick."

"And why do you think so?" Rhys countered. With a casual flick of his wrist, a swirling portal tore open the air beside him.

From its depths, a river of glowing purple crystals poured out, forming a small, glittering hill just outside the city gates.

The crowd of onlookers gasped. Even the mortals, who possessed no cultivation, could feel the overwhelming vitality pouring from the mountain of treasure.

It was a scent more intoxicating than any food, a promise more powerful than any gold.

For a long moment, Derin said nothing. His eyes were fixed on the impossible wealth before him, but his expression was not one of greed.

It was one of deep, cautious thought. If this had been anyone else, they would have already been on their knees, begging for a chance.

But this man was different.

Rhys moved his hand again. This time, countless scrolls tumbled from the portal, piling up beside the crystals and stunning the onlookers even further.

They were skill scrolls, most of them Mortal and Earth grade, but in the Azure Province, they were a treasure rarer than diamonds.

Here, all powerful techniques were monopolised by the great families. Unless one swore their life in service, a common cultivator would never get their hands on a single scroll.

The only other way was to hunt Feral-grade beasts, a feat that even elite experts couldn’t accomplish efficiently.

"I am indeed stunned by your resources, Fellow Daoist," Derin finally said, his voice rough with emotion. "But how could we, the ’shits of the province’, ever use any of this effectively, let alone become useful to you?"

A slow smile curled Rhys’s lips. His gaze wandered over the people gathered at the city gate. He saw the soldiers on the walls, their initial fear now mixed with a deep shame.

His gaze made them flinch, but their shame was stronger, and they lowered their heads. They knew what they were.

They were here because they had been deemed useless.

If any of them had possessed even an ounce of talent, the great families would never have cast them out.

They weren’t even considered worthy enough to be used as cannon fodder. They were the forgotten dregs of the province, ’the shits of the province’.

"Perhaps you are as you say, ’the shits of the province’..." Rhys let his voice linger for a few moments, allowing their own self-loathing to settle in the quiet air. "...at least according to the great families and their useless measuring system. But to me, there are no useless people. There are only misguided people."

Rhys slowly raised a hand to his face. The blur of shadow that had concealed his features dissolved, revealing him to the world.

His face was sharp and handsome, but it was his eyes that held their gaze.

They were pitch-black, bottomless voids that held an ancient, unshakable confidence.

"If they were true," he said, his voice now ringing with a power that was entirely his own, "then why would I, Rhys the Abandoned, be standing here now, with the confidence to face the great families on my own?"