Episode 22

“Damage it?” I asked, confused.

“Breaking it is beyond your abilities, so damaging it will suffice. Even a dent or crack will count as a pass,” Carzakh explained.

Noticing our skeptical expressions, Carzakh smirked. “What’s the matter? Does it seem too easy? Then go ahead and give it a try right away.”

Arjan looked at me as if seeking my consent. Though she was still expressionless, she seemed oddly eager. I could tell she didn’t want to be stuck here for half a year either.

“Go ahead,” I instructed her.

“Yes, Young Master Luan.”

Arjan set the scale on the ground and drew a dagger. I still didn’t know where the daggers kept coming from.

She glared at the scale like it was her mortal enemy. Then, gripping the dagger with both hands, she drove it down.

The sound of metal striking metal echoed.

Arjan nearly dropped the dagger, her grip faltering. If her posture had been even slightly off, her wrist would have been injured.

“This…” she muttered.

Carzakh looked at the scale, which had bounced off, and said, “The scales on the Sapphire Snake’s body are far tougher than this. This one’s been detached from its body for quite some time. You two can’t even damage a single scale, yet you think it’ll take us three days to hunt it? Delusional.”

Arjan fell silent. Her expression remained unchanged, but she looked slightly sullen, her lips pressed tight as if she wanted revenge.

“Now that you have an understanding of our target, then—”

Meanwhile, I picked up the scale and interrupted, “So, all I have to do is break this?”

“Did you hear what I said earlier?” he asked.

“I heard you,” I replied.

I absentmindedly stared at the scale, feeling a chill in my hands as I held it.

The coldness came from the Yin Qi infused in the scales. If the scale had been detached for as long as Carzakh claimed but still radiated such intense Yin Qi, facing the Sapphire Snake would be like battling within the heart of a snowstorm.

This is why Osel prepared such a dagger.

Perhaps the key to this strategy wasn’t Carzakh but me.

“Yes, give it a try. What weapon are you going to use? Shall I lend you my sword?” he offered.

“It’s okay,” I replied, tossing the scale like a coin and catching it repeatedly.

Carzakh watched me with his arms crossed—a rather amusing sight, given he was doing it with one arm.

I continued the action about five times before throwing the scale up high.

Piing!

I adjusted my stance as the scale floated above.

During my earlier contact with it, I had memorized its texture, which gave me a clear sense of the force required. My mind instinctively identified the most suitable technique for the Sapphire Snake’s scale.

As the scale descended to eye level, I gathered the Fire Qi within my body and channeled it into my fist.

This was the White Sun Style’s 6th Move, Falling Fire.

The sound of ice shattering echoed as the scale exploded into fragments, scattering in all directions. The aftermath was chaotic, but the two present were more than capable, deftly blocking or evading the flying debris.

“I’m sorry for this,” I said.

Despite my apology, silence hung in the air. Both Carzakh and Arjan stared at me, their expressions oddly similar.

I wasn’t sure if this metaphor was apt, but their looks reminded me of someone watching a dog perform a tap dance. Strange as it sounded, I had expected this reaction and waited patiently.

Carzakh was the first to recover. For some reason, his face was red as he approached me. “That move just now—it is a martial art with distinct styles.”

“That’s right.”

“Who taught you that?”

“I created it myself,” I replied.

Carzakh frowned. “Nonsense. The essence contained in that movement was the result of years of practice. It holds profoundities that only a true master—someone who has dedicated their life to martial arts—could impart.”

As expected of the Swordmaster. His eye for detail was so sharp that Kayan couldn’t compare.

Still, due to my circumstances, I couldn’t be entirely truthful.

“I really created it, though I did rely on many reference books,” I insisted.

Carzakh regarded me with suspicion but couldn’t glean any further information.

I felt no shame in my claim. It wasn’t entirely untrue. Even if someone investigated my past, they would find nothing of consequence.

“But… no. Still, if it is Delac’s son…” Carzakh, who had been deep in thought and hesitating, suddenly looked up. “Newbie.”

“Huh?”

The intensity in his gaze was overwhelming.

He isn’t going to insist that he doesn’t accept this answer, right?

Just as I thought this, Carzakh made an unexpected offer. “Become my disciple.”

Arjan was surprised.

“Uh, I don’t want to,” I replied, rejecting him.

Arjan was astounded now.

***

The Iron-Blooded Lord’s obsession with blood ties was unimaginable. More specifically, his obsession was with his own flesh and blood—his offspring.

“The possibilities are latent in the blood.”

This statement symbolized the Iron-Blooded Lord and had become a topic of conversation throughout the entire empire.

No one was more dedicated to nurturing his children than he was. If he saw even a hint of potential, he would spare no effort in offering full support. His children consumed rare elixirs and secret medicines instead of meals and received a famous family sword as a gift. In the name of growth, they were treated like royalty.

However, there was one issue. No matter how much the Iron-Blooded Lord cherished his children, he simply couldn’t focus on one crucial element—teaching.

The Iron-Blooded Lord’s skills were frequently mentioned when discussing who was the strongest in the empire. Naturally, his children revered him above all others and earnestly wished for even a single word of advice from him.

However, it was physically impossible.

He was not only the head of the Badniker family but also the empire’s greatest demon hunter, the imperial family’s sword, and the Great Families’ executioner.

Even if he only completed the minimum tasks assigned to him, he would need at least two bodies to manage them all. Thus, no matter how precious his children were, he had no time to watch their training.

To solve this, the Iron-Blooded Lord roamed the empire to personally invite those who would teach his children on his behalf.

This led to the creation of the Great Master position in the Badniker family.

The Great Masters were a group of ten individuals who each specialized in a different field. Some were experts in weapons like swords, spears, axes, and bows, while others taught etiquette, culture, and history. There were even scholars in theology, spiritual studies, and magic.

The Iron-Blooded Lord carefully selected the best talents in each field from across the empire.

Carzakh knew one fact. Among the Great Masters, the Iron-Blooded Lord’s children showed the most interest in the Swordmaster—himself.

It was understandable. The Iron-Blooded Lord’s weapon was a sword. Naturally, most of his children, who admired the family head, would focus on the Swordmaster. Thus, Carzakh found this situation even more confusing.

What is this kid thinking? What did this newbie just say?

“Uh, I don’t want to.”

He was certain that he heard it correctly. He wasn’t deaf, so he hadn’t misheard.

Carzakh immediately considered another possibility. “Did you misspeak? That can happen. I will repeat it, kid. Become my disciple—”

“I don’t want to,” I interrupted him.

Carzakh’s jaw dropped.

***

I didn’t change my mind when I saw Carzakh’s blank expression.

Carzakh regained his composure a moment later and said, “You don’t seem to realize what a rare opportunity this is. Or do you think I am lying? Aha, I get it now—you are worried I’ll pretend this never happened later, right? I’m not that despicable. I never go back on my word.”

“Really?”

“Yes! So think again carefully,” he pressed.

“I won’t change my mind,” I insisted.

“Ha, haha.” Carzakh burst into laughter as if he had gone crazy. Then he looked at Arjan, shifting his focus. “Your young master seems crazy. As his butler, don’t you have anything to say?”

Arjan pondered for a moment. Then she looked at me and said, “Young Master Luan, this is an invaluable opportunity.”

She spoke in her characteristic calm voice, “The connection between the Swordmaster and his disciple isn’t just about learning martial arts. If a Great Master acknowledges you, the Council of Elders’ perspective will change. Soon, the news will reach the family head’s ears. Ultimately, this could be the first step in changing your negative reputation, Young Master Luan.”

Carzakh gave Arjan a thumbs-up before turning back to me again. “It is a very political perspective, but in any case, it is a good one.”

Carzakh, his beard reaching his collarbone, stared at me with intense eyes, making me feel uncomfortable.

Her analysis is not bad.

I understood what Arjan meant. In addition to her explanation, the benefits of having Carzakh as my master were endless.

“Still, forget it.”

I wasn’t rejecting this offer out of ignorance. In fact, right after I turned it down, I wasn’t sure why I had been so firm. After some thought, the reason became clear. Maybe I didn’t want anyone as my master other than Bai Luguang, the First Under Heaven.

“No, but—”

“Let’s stop discussing this,” I interrupted him. “Now that I’ve broken the scale, you will do as I say, right?”

Carzakh was still dissatisfied. “Newbie, you indeed managed to damage it, but Arjan couldn’t.”

“She is hiding her strength, so it is fine,” I countered.

Carzakh knew more about this matter than I did. They had likely discussed it before I woke up.

Carzakh groaned, sighing deeply. “I can’t lie to Delac’s son, even if it costs your life.”

“I won’t die,” I said with a smile. “Let’s get out of here together, Senior.”

***

After weighing numerous factors, three days later was deemed the optimal time. The decision concerned not only the group’s condition but also the timing for rationing the remaining food, sharing critical information, and navigating the precarious window to return to the main house.

“It looks delicious. Is there no more?” Carzakh asked.

“Uhuh. We need to eat sparingly,” I replied.

Carzakh had become something of a jerky gourmet.

I had wondered what he ate to survive in this place. It turned out that he consumed water or moss that seeped through the cracks. Occasionally, he caught and ate cave bats. Compared to his usual fare, the hard beef jerky seemed like a feast.

After a brief meal, Carzakh started informing us about the Sapphire Snake.

He said, “Do you know that even among the Jewel Beasts, there are different levels?”

“Yes. The ones that the family head hunted were low- to mid-ranked.”

Carzakh nodded. “That’s right. The Sapphire Snake obviously belongs to the advanced rank. You can tell just by its size.”

He started sketching a snake on the wall with a sharp stone as he continued, “Physique is crucial in battle—so much so that I don’t need to explain it. Imagine a snail this size. It would be a disaster. But this isn’t a snail—it’s a snake. Cunning as well as massive.”

We nodded.

“A head-on confrontation is madness. I have observed it for a long time. In the last fight…” he trailed off.

Carzakh’s drawing of the snake was remarkably detailed, especially for someone using their left hand. Perhaps he’d always been left-handed.

“I found its weakness.” Carzakh stabbed at a certain spot on the snake painting with the stone. “There is an inverted scale under its chin. This is its weak point.”

An inverted scale…

“The reverse scale,” I murmured, recalling the imoogi I had killed on Spirit Mountain.

“What did you say?” Carzakh asked.

“Nothing.”

Carzakh stroked his beard habitually, his eyes distant as if lost in memory. “During a chaotic fight, I touched that scale, and it went berserk—like it had been kicked in the balls.”

Suddenly, Arjan clenched her fists tightly.

Did she like such jokes? It was a bit off-putting.

“It would’ve been fatal if I had stabbed deeper,” he added.

“Stabbing won’t kill it outright, but it will definitely make the battle much easier,” I commented.

“Exactly. My plan is to sneak up on it while it is sleeping, strike the weak point, and start.” He added with a slightly embarrassed expression, “I’ve had several opportunities to do so while I’ve been here, but I’m not exactly skilled at moving discreetly.”

It was the same for me. Stealth wasn’t my specialty either.

Naturally, my eyes drifted to Arjan.

Carzakh, knowing her better than I did, also looked at her.

Arjan quickly understood. “I will take on that mission.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Afterward, Carzakh shared additional precautions with us.

Initially, I worried that he was only pretending to follow my words, but I soon realized this concern was unfounded after listening to his passionate explanation. In fact, Carzakh seemed far more committed to hunting the Sapphire Snake than either Arjan or I.

Once he finished speaking, I simply relaxed—training, eating, sleeping, and talking with Arjan.

Of course, there were still some annoyances.

Carzakh, seeing me train, started to get on my nerves again. “Hey, do you really not want to be my disciple?”

On the first day, I politely declined, but as he continued to whine, my patience wore thin. “If you have nothing to do, then leave. Go train or something.”

If I dismissed him like a mere merchant, Carzakh would leave, grumbling, “You rude brat! You think you are so great!”

Then, he would return and follow the same script.

Honestly, chasing Carzakh away was more mentally exhausting than training.

***

The chaotic, tumultuous three days passed in the blink of an eye.

“Are you ready?” Carzakh asked.

“Yes,” we replied.

“Let’s go.”

“Okay.”

Carzakh stretched his neck joints, muttering, “Once it is all over, maybe I will try some snake meat.”

Finally, the day of the snake hunt arrived.

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