As the adepti waited patiently, Morax's mind was already turning over how he would deal with that little nuisance if he didn't show.
Xuekui, already nearing the area, suddenly felt a chill down his spine and instinctively quickened his pace.
Where was the crane?
The poor little bird had cried itself hoarse and now buried its head in Xuekui's chest, refusing to look up.
Before long, Morax finally exhaled in relief—then narrowed his eyes at the quasi-adeptus crane in Xuekui's arms.
A frown. Then surprise.
Where did this brat pick up a quasi-adeptus beast? These days, recruiting someone came with a free bonus?
Morax thought of his own subordinates and suddenly felt a wave of dissatisfaction.
He had to go out personally and rely on luck to recruit people. None of them ever helped. Just like that, the white-haired brat on the ground looked a lot more pleasing.
The other adepti stared at the short child carrying a crane—then all turned to look at the black crane among them.
"What are you looking at?"
The black crane snapped, eyes bulging. "Look somewhere else!"
Everyone turned back—only to watch the crane in Xuekui's arms suddenly leap up and peck the yaksha's head like it was avenging generations of hatred.
Xuekui crouched and guarded his head, looking miserable.
…This kid's entrance was certainly unique.
Morax watched the ridiculous scene with a blank expression. He felt like he'd started getting used to it.
He wasn't sure if that was good.
"You really know how to cut it close," Morax said. "You arrived on the last day." Xuekui, still crouching, grabbed the crane off his head and looked startled.
Last day?
So he really nailed the timing? Lucky.
But he couldn't look like he'd forgotten.
He set the crane down, gesturing for it to stay away. Morax glanced at it. A golden barrier enveloped the bird.
Xuekui finally relaxed, inhaled, and gave his reply with confidence. "Of course! Old man—let me show you how much I've improved." The adepti collectively leaned back as if struck.
Old… man?
They should be angry, as Morax's followers.
And yet they couldn't help feeling admiration for this tiny yaksha. Morax was stern and serious. Fear and reverence coexisted.
Anyone who'd endured Morax's "teaching" never wanted a second round.
And rumor said Xuekui's first meeting with Morax had involved "a small conflict." With Morax's temperament, there was no way he hadn't disciplined him.
So this kid was insane.
The four yaksha were suddenly surrounded by stares.
Bosacius could read something in the deer's and cranes' huge eyes. Are all yaksha this fearless?
"Uh… well… uh…"
Bosacius opened his mouth, then had no idea what to say.
He couldn't exactly admit he wasn't as bold as a child. So he stayed silent, looking at Xuekui differently.
A true newborn calf, unafraid of tigers.
Morax, for his part, was perfectly calm at the disrespect. "Then begin."
The adepti leaned back again. Just… like that?
The Lord wasn't angry? They stared at Xuekui again.
Could it be Morax's arts had advanced to the point of creation? Was this kid… his construct?
While everyone spiraled into nonsense, Morax moved immediately. He wasn't about to let the child take the first strike.
He was the examiner.
If he didn't push the brat to wring out every last drop of potential, what was the point?
Morax raised a claw and tapped his forearm. Golden light flashed, and a gigantic stone spear—far too large for any mortal—formed in midair.
With a sharp whistle, it shot forward like an arrow, leaving only an afterimage. Before, you would never have caught this.
Morax's eyes sharpened.
Let this strike prove whether the child had spent three months striving… or wasting time. The moment the spear erupted with that speed, Xuekui knew he couldn't dodge.
In truth, even after waking, he still hadn't fully traced his true form.
That missing piece was critical—likely part of what birthed him—so he was only a step away… but still a step short.
Yet he stood here, meaning he hadn't gained nothing from the leylines.
Before, he would've been hit without even reacting. Now, cleansed by the leylines, he could at least respond. Not enough to fully evade.
But who said he had to evade?
His ice spear tip met the stone spear's point. His wrist spun, guiding the strike off course. His body followed the force, sliding sideways.
The stone spear skimmed past him and pulverized a distant hill into rubble. The adepti stared. That scene felt familiar.
When Ah Ping had sparred with the Lord, she'd deflected the stone spear in the same way. All eyes turned to Ah Ping.
She shrugged.
"I told you. He learns fast."
The adepti leaned back yet again. So it was real.
Morax nodded slightly. Not bad. No wasted time. Then he fell into thought. Martial arts… interesting.
Whether it was that young woman earlier or this child now, it proved there was promise here.
Even gods had to learn, think, and improve. Morax never believed himself invincible. He wouldn't ignore any chance to grow stronger.
As his thoughts moved, the test continued.
Knowing Xuekui couldn't levitate before, Morax sent stone spikes racing beneath the ground toward him.
Xuekui frowned.
The spikes were easy to dodge, but dodging would shrink his footing, cornering him.
Understanding Morax's intent, Xuekui stomped down. Ice spread, colliding with the spikes. Ice crystals sprayed—
The spikes still advanced. But slower.
Morax's gaze sharpened with approval.
Xuekui's absorption efficiency was still absurd. His elemental strength had improved. His control was cleaner.
Then—
Morax's lips curved as Xuekui used the slowed spikes as cover and charged straight at him. Xuekui's face was flat.
He was a yaksha.
How could he tolerate being beaten without striking back?