Darian's eyes were half-lidded. Beneath his calm exterior, rage simmered, boiling against the dam of his self-control. For ten long years, he had endured the mockery and ridicule of the Valeblue clan disciples. And yet, despite it all, he still held some measure of affection for the Valeblue family—especially for the middle-aged man he respectfully called Uncle Theron.
After all… this was the place where he had grown up.
So, he stood silently, waiting for Theron's judgment.
"Patriarch," Lucian's deep voice cut through the still air, "I earnestly request that you grant me these two demands."
The martial arena fell into utter silence. Even the elders, lined along the side, were momentarily speechless. Only Eldric, the Third Elder, narrowed his eyes and cast an unreadable glance at Darian.
Lucian had made his requests with perfect composure. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, face calm, as his eyes locked onto the patriarch. Behind him, the Spirit Core pulsed gently, radiating a quiet authority—a silent reminder of his confidence.
That cripple? That waste who has been useless for a decade? How dare he hold the Blood Dragon Jade? Lucian's heart swelled with pride and fervor. I am the true owner of that treasure! Only I am worthy of it—a treasure that can send a Cleanseborn Realm cultivator soaring to the heavens in one step!
The Blood Dragon Jade had been in his thoughts for years. Blood Dragon Devours the Moon! he mused. This jade can grant a cultivator a fortune beyond imagination within the Cleanseborn Realm.
A faint trace of bitterness passed through Theron's eyes. The jade had been left for Darian by that person, to be returned once he stepped into the Cleanseborn Realm. It had never belonged to the Valeblue family. But no one had expected Darian's cultivation to cripple.
So that's it… Lucian has been after the jade all along. No wonder he made that wager before entering seclusion—he must have known he could condense the Spirit Core. Theron sighed inwardly. If only the jade truly belonged to the clan… but it doesn't.
For once, the always-decisive patriarch hesitated. Then his expression became unreadable. Rising from his stone seat, his gaze swept over Lucian before settling on Darian's young face.
"As for the engagement with Aeris," he said slowly, "Darian had already asked me in private to annul it. That arrangement was nothing more than a jest to begin with. Therefore, I officially declare it annulled. From this day forward, no one shall mention it again."
No one was surprised—except Aeris. Her delicate body trembled, pearly teeth biting into her crimson lips. Relief flickered in her eyes, but it was drowned by humiliation and resentment.
"As for your second request… the Blood Dragon Jade—" Theron paused.
Even Lucian's composure wavered, his gaze sharpening as anticipation peaked. Around them, the Aeris disciples leaned forward, eager for the verdict. Though most knew nothing of its true purpose, they all understood one thing: the Blood Dragon Jade belonged to Darian… and Lucian wanted it.
Finally, the patriarch spoke.
"Lucian, at seventeen, you have condensed the Spirit Core and stepped into the Cleanseborn Realm. Your talent is exceptional—you are the pride of our clan. Before your seclusion, I promised to grant you two requests upon your breakthrough. And I am a man of my word."
Darian's fingers tightened into fists, his knuckles whitening. His heart sank, a bitter wave rising within him. Deep in his half-lidded eyes, a faint golden light flickered.
Lucian's lips curled. His victory felt inevitable.
But then—
"However," Theron's voice hardened, "the true owner of the Blood Dragon Jade is Darian, not I. It was never the Valeblue family's property—I merely safeguarded it. I have no right to give it away. Whether or not you obtain it must be decided by Darian himself. This is not a refusal… it is something I cannot grant at all."
Darian's body trembled. The heaviness in his chest eased. He slowly exhaled, lifting his head with a faint, genuine smile.
The Aeris disciples stared in disbelief. The patriarch had refused the number one genius of the clan—for a cripple?
Lucian's expression darkened, the Spirit Core behind him throbbing violently. "Patriarch, for you to reject my request for the sake of that waste—this, I cannot accept."
"Lucian! Do not be rude!" Eldric barked. Rising to his feet, he smiled politely toward the patriarch. "Patriarch, Lucian is still young. If his words lack propriety, I ask your forgiveness."
"Haha, Third Elder, you speak too seriously," Theron replied with a faint smile. "A genius has his own temperament—how could I take offense?"
Eldric's gaze slid to Darian, cold and sharp. "The Blood Dragon Jade is no trivial matter. Darian cannot cultivate now. Returning it to him may do more harm than good."
So that was it—they had coveted the jade for years.
The Third Elder's tone sharpened. "Without the strength to protect something, one has no right to possess it. Darian is only at the Fifth Stage of the Ironbody Tier. That jade will be a curse in his hands—it may even bring about his death."
The other elders nodded in agreement.
"The jade should go to Lucian."
"Yes. Even if you give it to Darian, he cannot protect it."
"The world is dangerous. Better to give it to someone capable."
"Enough!" Theron's voice cracked like a whip. "As patriarch, I decree that the Blood Dragon Jade belongs to Darian. This matter is closed—no one is to bring it up again!"
Eldric's face twitched, but he suppressed his anger. His gaze met Lucian's, a silent message passing between grandfather and grandson.
Lucian turned, his eyes locking onto Darian's. "So what if the jade is yours? Can you get it without relying on the patriarch's charity? And if you do—can you keep it? Do you have that ability?"
His words rang across the arena like blades. "Fifth Stage of the Ironbody Tier? Hah! You're not even worthy to carry my shoes. I, Lucian, have the ability to guard the Blood Dragon Jade. You—do you? If you do, prove it to everyone here!"
A wave of jeers followed.
"That's right! Trash Darian has no right to the jade!"
"Lucian is the clan's true genius!"
"Darian doesn't know his place!"
Theron's expression darkened. He knew exactly what Lucian was doing.
Provocation.
The challenge was clear: fight him.
If Darian ignored it, the entire clan would see him as a coward. If he accepted… Lucian would crush him.
But then— Darian chuckled.
His handsome face wore an easy smile, but behind it was an edge honed over a decade of silence. Slowly, he raised both hands. His fingers curled into fists. His black hair whipped in the wind, and though no aura of cultivation surrounded him, the sheer force of his will pressed outward like a storm.
"So what if it's provocation?" His voice was calm, but carried an unshakable weight. "What's mine… I will protect myself."
Then his eyes sharpened.
"Hahahaha… Lucian! As you wish—one month from now, dare you fight me? If I lose, the Blood Dragon Jade is yours. If I win, from that day forward, whenever you see me… you will turn and walk the other way!"
The words struck like lightning.
The arena froze. Then—
"Did I hear that right? Trash Darian is challenging Lucian?"
"One month later? Has he gone mad?"
"Tsk… I almost admire his courage."
Kaelen sneered. Aeris's face turned cold as frost—she made a silent decision in her heart.
Even Lucian was momentarily surprised. He had expected submission, not defiance. But this was even better.
"Good! Good! Good!" Lucian laughed, his voice filled with icy arrogance. "One month from now, right here, I will fight you. I'll grant you that shred of dignity before I destroy you."
Darian… you've just signed your own death sentence. The Blood Dragon Jade will be mine.
Darian cupped his fists toward Theron. "Uncle Theron, please bear witness. I'll take my leave."
Without another word, he turned and walked away—his back straight, unyielding.
Buzz—
As he left the arena, Darian's face flushed with heat. Deep within, an unstoppable, earth-shaking transformation surged to life…