thefictionvixens Chapter 586: The Privilege of the Strong
Chapter 586: The Privilege of the Strong
Mary scooped the heavy leather purse into her arms, wrapping her fingers around the reinforced straps and clutching it tightly against her chest as if her absolute life depended on it.
"Mother, let me carry that for you," Roy whispered, a look of profound embarrassment crossing his face as he reached out toward the bulky bag. "It’s entirely too heavy for you, and we are right in the middle of the sect’s courtyard."
"Get your hands off, boy!" Mary hissed back in a fiercely protective, suffocating whisper, her eyes darting around the courtyard like a cornered beast guarding its golden eggs. "I am perfectly fine! This bag stays right where I can feel it against my ribs! Go watch the perimeter!"
Roy let out a long, deeply defeated sigh, turning his helpless gaze toward Ethan, who merely offered a subtle, highly amused smirk before turning on his heel to lead them out of the outpost yard. Louisa followed closely behind her mother, her head kept firmly down, her eyes tracking Ethan’s boots with that lingering, intoxicating mix of profound adoration and deep-seated terror.
Unlike their departure the previous evening, the atmosphere inside the bustling commercial streets was completely, fundamentally altered.
Word of the catastrophic massacre in the northern valley had traveled through the city’s underground network with supersonic velocity. Every single local gang, rogue mercenary faction, and back-alley informant already knew that a nameless, black-armored monster had single-handedly wiped out two hundred battle-hardened killers without sustaining a single scratch. As Ethan’s tall, imposing frame cut through the crowded thoroughfares, a sea of thugs, low-level cultivators, and merchant guards instantly scrambled to the sides of the road, clearing a wide, unobstructed path for his party.
Nobody was stupid enough to block their path. No arrogant young masters stepped out from the luxury restaurants to challenge them, and not a single cutthroat dared to linger in the shadows of the alleyways as they passed.
The wooden stairs of the modest lower-district inn creaked softly under their heavy steps as the four of them ascended toward their private quarters. On the way through the main lobby, the usually loud and demanding receptionists didn’t utter a single syllable about the room bills, late fees, or checking out. Instead, they stood rigid behind the front counter, their heads bowed in deep, trembling reverence, treating Ethan’s party as if their presence in the establishment was the highest honor imaginable.
The gossip mill of the frontier was an incredibly fast creature. The workers had already received word of the astronomical mountain of wealth the party had just hauled to the sect outpost—and their sharp merchant instincts told them that the six massive cargo sledges were merely a tiny, superficial fraction of the true hidden fortune this black-armored master possessed.
The moment they stepped inside the familiar, candle-lit confines of their top-floor suite, the heavy iron door clicked shut behind them, sealing away the murmurs of the city.
Ethan let out a long, heavy sigh. With a smooth motion of his hands, he unbuckled the leather straps of his midnight-black Star Iron armor, sliding the heavy top section off his broad shoulders and tossing it onto a sturdy wooden table. He hadn’t wanted to strip down on the public roads to avoid revealing his fully healed skin, but walking through the crowded city streets with a massive, tree-trunk-sized hole piercing directly through his midsection had been incredibly annoying.
"Well, damn," Ethan muttered, running a hand over his smooth, unscarred abdomen before offering a dry, self-deprecating chuckle. "That armor barely lasted me a single day. Ha ha! I guess I’ll have to head back to the central forge and purchase another set, but that will have to wait until tomorrow. Right now, I am absolutely dead. Every single meridian in my body aches."
Mary quickly set the heavy leather purse of spirit stones onto the main bed, her shoulders finally dropping as she let out a breath she felt like she’d been holding for hours. "You practically took a mortal strike from a six-meter tyrant matriarch and then proceeded to butcher ninety men with two swings of your blade, Ethan. The fact that you are only complaining about an ache is a literal miracle."
"Master Ethan, let me help you clean the residual blood from the suit," Roy offered immediately, stepping forward with a clean basin of water he had grabbed from the corner.
"Don’t worry about it, Roy. Just rest your own muscles," Ethan replied, stretching his arms as his hollow core slowly continued to draw in the ambient spiritual energy of the room.
Knock, knock, knock.
A series of light, incredibly polite taps echoed from the wooden door, interrupting their conversation. Roy’s hand instinctively twitched toward his katana hilt, but Ethan merely gestured for him to open it.
Standing in the hallway was the innkeeper himself, accompanied by three nervous kitchen maids carrying massive, silver-plated trays piled high with steaming, premium dishes. There were roasted spirit-deer ribs, thick bowls of high-energy medicinal grain rice, and bottles of expensive, vintage plum wine that usually cost months of a commoner’s salary.
"Apologies for the intrusion, noble masters!" the innkeeper squeaked, his face twisted into a mask of pure, sycophantic hospitality as he bowed so low his nose nearly touched his knees. "We noticed your party returned late from the dangerous northern ridges. As a token of our deepest admiration for Master Ethan’s unparalleled martial prowess, the establishment has prepared our finest imperial-grade feast for you. There is absolutely no need to order, and there will be no charge on your ledger! We only pray that your stay here remains entirely comfortable."
The hotel’s intentions were as clear as water; they were aggressively offering preferential treatment, desperately trying to cater to Ethan’s every whim in the hopes of gaining a tiny shred of favor, a tip, or the protection of a rising elite who could crush mercenary coalitions before dinner.
-------------------
From this moment forward, to avoid confusion regarding cultivation ranks, I will include this footer with the current established levels.
Note: These are only the ranks mentioned so far to avoid spoilers.
Body Refinement Realm
Skin Refinement / Bone Refinement / Organ Refinement
Spiritual Gathering Realm
Spiritual Perception / Spiritual Mist / Spiritual Condensation
Spiritual Core Realm
Core Solidification / Core Awakening / Spiritual Collapse (Half-step Spiritual Core)
Spiritual Soul Realm
Spiritual Soul Awakening / Soul Nourishing / Soul-Core Fusion
Golden Core Realm
Prime Fusion / Core Perfection / Core Destruction
Spiritual Sea Realm
Stage 1 ?? / Stage 2 ?? / Stage 3 ??
Dao Manifestation Realm
Stage 1 ?? / Stage 2 ?? / Stage 3 ??
Spiritual Transcendence
Stage 1 ?? / Stage 2 ?? / Stage 3 ??