Inside the Registration Hall, the atmosphere was quiet and still. The structure itself was simple—stone walls reinforced with thin, glowing veins of formation energy that shimmered faintly in the dim light. At the center stood a wide pedestal, and atop it was a smooth, luminous jade disk that pulsed slowly with spiritual light.

A visible formation node.

Without waiting for instruction, Mikael stepped forward and sent his Divine Sense into the jade disk.

Chiing—

The formation node pulsed in response. The hall echoed faintly as the defensive array of the city accepted his imprint, weaving Mikael’s spiritual signature into its structure. A low hum rang out, then faded as the light dimmed, signaling completion.

Rong Tianxiu stepped forward with a shallow bow. “The registration is complete, Honored Core Disciple.”

Mikael gave a small nod.

“If you permit,” Tianxiu continued, “we may escort you through the city. It would ensure no one causes disturbance, and we can also guide you to any destination you seek.”

Mikael paused briefly. He didn’t know the city’s layout, and having four locals—especially elite guards—could prove useful.

“…Very well,” he said coolly.

Rong Tianxiu bowed again and gestured forward. “Please, this way.”

The group of five exited the building. As they passed the two elderly guards at the entrance—both at the 3rd layer of the Spiritual Foundation Realm—they offered respectful bows toward Mikael, who ignored them without a flicker of interest.

Just after leaving the Registration Hall, Mikael turned slightly toward Rong Tianxiu. “As you can guess, I’m planning to explore the Savagefang Mountain Range.”

The leader of the elite guards nodded, already expecting it. After all, why else would someone come to this city if not to explore those deadly peaks?

That was the purpose of Savagefang City—everything here revolved around that fact. From infrastructure to commerce, every part of the city existed to support the endless flow of cultivators entering and leaving the mountain range.

Mikael continued, “I was planning to acquire a map before heading in, but as a local, you likely have a better understanding than I do. What would you recommend?”

Rong Tianxiu took a moment to think. Normally, if someone asked this, he’d simply suggest buying a detailed map and being cautious. But for a Core Disciple of the Wandering Sword Sect, such a generic answer wasn’t enough.

As the group slowly moved away from the quiet, guarded district and toward the more populated parts of the city, he finally spoke.

“I would recommend the Honored Core Disciple visit the Jade Compass Pavilion. They offer the most detailed and precise maps in all of Savagefang City. If you intend to explore the mountain range, having one of theirs will be invaluable.”

Mikael gave a slight nod, prompting him to continue.

“After that,” Tianxiu added, “I’d also suggest stopping by Norkal’s General Goods Store. The name may sound a bit too plain, but their products and service are absolutely top-notch—this I can guarantee.”

“They carry everything that might prove useful in the Savagefang Mountain Range: healing pills, repellent powders, concealment formations, even up-to-date information on the latest activity within the region.”

“I see… In that case, could you lead me to the Jade Compass Pavilion first, then to Norkal’s General Goods Store?”

“O-of course, Honored Core Disciple,” Rong Tianxiu stammered. Even with his experience as a guard in a city as chaotic as Savagefang, he couldn’t maintain his composure.

The reason?

The Honored Core Disciple had spoken politely. He had asked to be led—not ordered it.

In a modern world like Earth—Mikael’s birthplace—such politeness might not seem extraordinary. But here on Diron, where the law of the strongest dictated all interactions, showing respect to someone weaker was almost unheard of, like something out of a fairytale.

Seeing a Core Disciple from a behemoth like the Wandering Sword Sect speak so courteously to a ‘random’ guard—someone ‘merely’ at the 2nd layer of the Spiritual Foundation Realm—was baffling.

For a brief moment, Rong Tianxiu and the other elite guards stood frozen, still processing what had just happened. Then, slowly, realization bloomed across their faces.

They turned toward Mikael, eyes softening with admiration. ‘This Honored Core Disciple is truly a righteous and kind soul.’

If Mikael had heard their thoughts, he would’ve been dumbfounded. He was just being polite because they were technically helping him for free. At the very least, he figured, they deserved basic respect.

If he knew that his casual phrasing had earned him the “good guy” card in their eyes… it was certain that his reaction would have been something to see. Fortunately, he couldn’t read minds.

On that note, the group of four elite guards—each at the Spiritual Foundation Realm—led Mikael, his eye-catching Wandering Sword Sect robes fluttering slightly with each step, into the more bustling part of Savagefang City.

The change in atmosphere was immediate. The air thickened with noise—cultivators passing, merchants bartering, hawkers calling out deals on both sides of the street. But the moment the five-man group appeared, that noise softened—not because of any oppressive aura, but by sheer presence alone.

Robes bearing the Wandering Sword Sect insignia were rare enough in Savagefang City to command attention. But a Core Disciple’s robes?

That was the kind of sight most cultivators might never witness in their lifetime.

Murmurs began to ripple through the crowd.

“Is that—?”

“Those robes… a Core Disciple of the Wandering Sword Sect, right?”

“Core Disciple… and he’s being escorted by the elite guards of the Lin Clan…”

No one dared speak too loudly. Most just watched from a respectful distance, some freezing mid-step, others subtly shifting aside to clear a path. A few merchants instinctively lowered their voices. Others bowed their heads slightly as the group passed—not out of reverence, but out of deeply ingrained survival instinct. In the cultivation world, the weak bowed to the strong. It was nature’s law.

Of course, not everyone was content with merely watching.

A middle-aged man in merchant robes took two careful steps forward, eyes gleaming with calculation as he reached into his sleeve for a small gift pouch. If he presented it respectfully—if he expressed admiration—perhaps he could form a faint connection. Even being remembered by a Core Disciple could change his life.

But before he could open his mouth, one of the guards at Mikael’s flank gave him a look—not aggressive, but sharp enough to remind him of the difference between presence and permission.

The man froze, smiled awkwardly, and slipped back into the crowd.

Others had similar ideas.

A young alchemist’s apprentice clutching a token scroll. A robed woman from a minor clan adjusting her outer robe to expose more cleavage with deliberate elegance. But none of them dared take the first step.

The four guards didn’t speak, but their body language left no room for interpretation. Their formation was tight, their steps disciplined, their attention divided evenly between the street ahead and the crowd around them. They weren’t acting aggressively, but the message was unmistakable—this man was not to be approached lightly.

Mikael, for his part, didn’t spare the crowd a glance.

His gaze remained fixed ahead, emerald eyes half-lidded, calm and distant. Not arrogant—just naturally unapproachable, like a glacier that simply didn’t notice those around it. The slow, steady sway of his robes and the measured confidence in his stride silenced any lingering ambitions from the bystanders.

His cold and indifferent expression alone was enough to cool even the most persistent opportunist.

But inwardly, Mikael wasn’t nearly as composed as he looked. ‘Seriously? I expected this, but it doesn’t make it any less annoying.’

He scanned the faces around him, noting that nearly ninety percent of the crowd was staring directly at him. He found it grating. ‘Having the entire city watching my every move isn’t something I enjoy. Maybe a narcissist would love this kind of attention, but me… I just find it irritating. Still, there’s nothing I can do. I’ll just have to get used to it and learn to ignore it.’

Letting out an inward sigh, Mikael continued walking. His attention drifted slightly as the street narrowed. Not far from the main road, a small group had gathered in front of a raised stone slab where a man was juggling knives wreathed in flame.

The performer moved with practiced rhythm, spinning the burning blades in smooth arcs that left faint trails of embers. Sparks flicked around his feet as he transitioned between broad flourishes and tighter spins. There was no qi behind it—no genuine technique—but his control and timing were sharp enough to earn glances.

Mikael gave it a passing look, more out of idle awareness than interest. He didn’t slow. He didn’t comment. He simply walked on, letting the display of fire fade behind him like a flicker lost in thought.

The crowd behind them shifted. Conversation returned in gentle ripples as the group moved out of the marketplace and into a quieter district. The storefronts here were tidier, the signs carved into wood rather than painted. Embedded formation lines glowed faintly from the walls—steady, balanced, and clean. It was clear these establishments were backed by professionals who knew their craft.

After what felt like a slow walk under the entire city’s scrutiny, the group of four elite guards and a robed Core Disciple of the Wandering Sword Sect finally arrived before one of the largest and most refined buildings in the area.

They didn’t pause.

Without wasting time, they stepped through the grand entryway of the Jade Compass Pavilion. The polished door closed behind them with a soft clack, the sound quickly swallowed by the calm hush inside.

A clerk near the entrance instinctively moved forward, more out of habit than conscious thought. But as he laid eyes on them, his posture stiffened.

His gaze landed on the insignias—the four elite guards of the Lin Clan and the unfamiliar young man in immaculate robes—and his eyes widened in realization. This wasn’t just a group of influential visitors. The person at their center was clearly someone exceptional.

“Esteemed Young Master, welcome to our humble shop,” he said, bowing deeply toward Mikael before offering a second bow to the guards. “And welcome to the lords of the Lin Clan.”

Straightening up, he added, “Would you allow this little one to summon the manager? I don’t believe I am qualified to serve such esteemed guests as the young master and the lords.”

Mikael’s cold gaze landed on him, silent for a moment that stretched like an eternity in the clerk’s mind. Then, with a small nod, he spoke.

“Do so.”

Inwardly relieved to hand off these high-status visitors, the clerk gave one last bow and hurried off to fetch the manager.

As the man disappeared behind a corridor, Mikael rolled his eyes internally. ‘Of course. Bring the manager. If I’m going to “suffer” the curse of being this high-profile, I might as well enjoy a few perks. Having someone competent guide me should make finding a proper map faster, so I suppose it somewhat balances out my “popularity.”’

He paused for half a second.

‘Yeah, no chance. Being this high-profile is definitely more annoying than helpful. That crowd earlier? It was like the entire city was watching my every move. Even if I were some superstar back on Earth, I doubt the reactions would’ve been this excessive.’

He let out an inward sigh. ‘Really annoying. But there’s nothing I can do. I’ll have to get used to this “celebrity treatment.”’

His thoughts were interrupted as a rotund middle-aged man emerged from the back room, dressed in the unmistakable manager robes recognized across cultivation circles.

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— End of Chapter —