Everyone else was bowing to the Blazing Sun Immortal, heads lowered in reverence or fear. I dropped to one knee too, not out of respect, but simply to avoid drawing attention.

Yet my mind was elsewhere.

It felt weirdly anticlimactic that we’d already dealt with the threat I thought would wipe us out, or outright destroy the Sect. We’d had solid strategies in place for the beasts, and most of the plans had gone perfectly.

I guess it was to be expected. After all, they’d already dealt with a beast wave the previous year. It would’ve been strange to fail a second time. I might have underestimated everyone’s intelligence. and never expected for them to deal with the threat so well.

My gaze wandered toward the giant monstrous beasts in the distance; the enormous red snake, the lion, and many other such creatures scattered across the battlefield.

After harvesting all the resources from the beasts’ bodies that could be used for pill refinement or artifact crafting, we’d move on to the meat. Core Formation beast meat wasn’t just a delicacy; it was a cultivation treasure. And those things were massive. Enough to feed the entire Sect for months.

We were likely all going to eat Core Formation meat, even to the lowliest disciples. And the Qi in that flesh? It would help boost cultivation, even for someone at my stage.

Depending on the preservation methods available, to prevent the meat from going bad, the only option might be to ensure that every disciple received a generous helping of Core Formation beast meat with every single meal. The Sect was poised for a wave of growth following this battle.

That worked out for me too. I could study whether consuming excessive high-level beast meat had any adverse effects on cultivation.

Logically, there had to be some. Everything came with a cost. Even heavenly treasures, literally perfect for raising cultivation, caused issues if overused.

But then again, there was the theory that the bodies in this world were just different enough. They could naturally adapt to the Qi in beast meat. Maybe the side effects were minimal… or even nonexistent. Similar to how some people on Earth could drink milk while others were lactose intolerant.

I withdrew my gaze from the field of corpses and turned my attention to the many people around me.

They were staring at the Blazing Sun Immortal like he was a god.

Maybe, a few years ago, I would’ve worn that same expression.

But since then, I’d read more about immortals in the inner library. I’d met a ghost of an immortal. And an actual immortal.

In all honesty? They were all weird in one way or another. An average guy with average sensibilities would never become immortal. In a strange way, they were… true to themselves. Completely and unapologetically.

The best way I could describe them was like how people acted when they were with close friends, by saying dumb or unfiltered things, letting their crazy selves and radical opinions out without worrying about consequences. Immortals were kind of like that, except they never turned it off. They had embraced every part of themselves and didn’t care who saw it.

The first to raise his head was an old man with a coiled snake tattoo curling along his left cheek, its tail disappearing behind his ear, and its fanged mouth resting just below his eye.

He was the elder who had helped me analyze Song San’s poison.

“Blazing Sun Immortal,” he called out, bowing low. “We are honored by your intervention. We would be even more honored if you took charge of the Sect during this time of need.”

The Blazing Sun Immortal looked down at him with an unreadable expression.

“Nah. That just sounds like it would be a drag,” he replied, completely indifferent.

The poison elder’s eyes widened like saucers, and he seemed to forget to breathe for a moment. No doubt he’d built up the courage to ask an immortal something, and this was the answer he got.

“I see that some of you are shocked by my answer,” the Immortal added lazily. “So I’ll elaborate a little more.”

He floated there a moment before continuing.

“The Blazing Sun Sect was made to serve me... not the other way around.”

“What?”

Some of the people nearby couldn’t hide their reactions. A few looked like they were having a full-blown existential crisis.

Loyalty to the sect might plummet after this. But the Blazing Sun Immortal didn’t care what they thought or whether they were loyal.

It was like watching a so-called loyal employee discover that the company he’d devoted his life to was just a machine made to make the owner a shit ton of money.

And just like that, the Immortal didn’t say anything else.

He disappeared.

Gone.

People were left stunned, their minds spinning. No doubt they'd just been slapped in the face by a very cold truth.

I wasn’t surprised, not really. Though it definitely made the situation inside the sect more complicated.

But I was the elder in charge of martial technique. Bureaucratic headaches weren’t my responsibility.

I jumped down from the walls and made my way to the downed Zun Gon. He was still breathing, barely. There was a deep gash along his side and a scalding burn across his chest.

I crouched beside him and placed a hand on his chest, sending a pulse of Qi into his body. His Qi instinctively lashed out, expelling the foreign energy I’d injected, but that was enough.

Zun Gon’s Qi flared. His body twitched. And then, slowly, he opened his eyes.

“I’m alive?” Zun Gon looked around, surprised. He grabbed at his injured left side in pain, and his hands were quickly drenched in blood.

“Yeah. The Blazing Sun Immortal showed up to save our lives. But he said some things that definitely annoyed everyone. It’s your job to deal with that now,” I said.

Zun Gon nodded, coming to his senses and standing up. Then he seemed to stop the bleeding by somehow tightening the muscles in his abdomen. Then he looked around briefly before his gaze settled on Song San.

“For now, we’ll focus on rebuilding the Sect,” he declared. “But everything will return to normal. So we’ll begin by addressing a few matters.”

Holy shit, was he actually going to hold a meeting and act like nothing was wrong, despite the injury where a good percent of his lower torso was missing? I mean, that definitely had nicked some internal organs and incinerated a couple.

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Zun Gon stared at Song San with notable intensity before continuing, “First, we’ll hold a meeting and decide on a punishment for Song San, for threatening to poison the sect.”

He was going to hold a meeting in that condition? This old guy was hardcore!

“I have to organize some books, so I won’t be able to join the meeting,” I said, bullshitting like it was second nature. “Now more than ever, we need those properly sorted so the younger generation can easily access the techniques they need.”

A few elders who were familiar with my duties knew exactly what I was doing, just making an excuse to skip the meeting, but they didn’t care.

In the time that followed, Zun Gon managed to take surprisingly effective control over the situation and got everyone organized for post-battle recovery.

He was really starting to get the hang of this whole “responsibility” thing.

There wasn’t much left for me to do. As the elder in charge of martial techniques, this wasn’t my department. Either way, Song Song would give me a summary of how the meeting went.

Later, while the Sect was abuzz with repairs and meetings. I returned to my peaceful library. All that war talk was for someone else now.

The wooden pagoda, dusted in snow, greeted me like an old friend. As I stepped inside, the warmth of protective arrays washed over me.

The smell of old books filled my senses. I lay down on the floor and let the worries slip from my mind.

The battle hadn’t gone badly, and I was in good shape. I had only used one multi-layered array to help Song Song hold down a Core Formation beast, and that array was a lot more refined now than the first time I’d used it. I still had over seventy percent of my Qi reserves.

As I began to analyze my condition and reflect on what had happened, a peculiar thought came to mind.

Should I do it now?

I folded my hands behind my head and stared up at the library ceiling, just plain wood. Nothing special.

My stamina was good. No fatigue from the war. It was nighttime. The elders were in a meeting…

This might be the perfect chance. I doubted I’d get a better one.

I stood up and walked toward a certain part of the library, my fingers trailing across the spines of books I’d planned to read.

Eventually, I reached a hidden corner. Behind the shadow of one of the larger shelves was a staircase concealed by the wall and edges, making it almost impossible to notice, usually with so many shelves around.

Humming softly, I stepped onto the stairs.

The world around me turned dark immediately. An illusion array cloaked the path, and a subtle pressure settled on my shoulders.

With each step, the pressure grew until it reached a level where I genuinely began to feel it.

But this was still just an array. And arrays were easy to bypass… Especially when I was the one who maintained, updated, and ensured said array never eroded.

To be honest, I expected myself to feel more nervous about what I was about to do. But I didn’t. I was calm.

I knew exactly what I was doing, going behind the sect’s back. A betrayal of the highest order.

Well… maybe not the highest, but definitely up there.

The only thing I felt was a twist of excitement, as an involuntary smile crept across my face. A part of me was excited to see what the security arrays they used looked like.

When I reached the top, I pushed open a nearly invisible door.

A flood of light greeted me. I narrowed my eyes, adjusting to the brightness cast by the artifact-lit walls.

The room was bare, save for a table at the center with seven scrolls laid out, each with a fine layer of dust on top.

I’d considered hiding them under false scrolls or crafting a secret compartment in the table… but we didn’t have skilled craftsmen available to do something like that. Not yet.

“Yep, everything seems to be in order,” I murmured.

Only Zun Gon and I knew this room even existed.

These were the remaining Sky Grade Techniques of the Sect, or at least, the ones not already in use. Techniques currently being practiced weren’t stored here.

I circled the table, checking for any hidden mechanism Zun Gon might’ve set up to catch me trying to steal from here.

Whatever it was, if he’d placed something, it had to have been done before I took over management of the library.

Now that I thought about it, how many people in the sect actually knew Sky Grade Techniques?

The Song Clan Leader was an obvious yes, but I doubted he received those techniques from the sect. He probably inherited them or found them on his own.

Someone like Zun Gon, and maybe my teacher, also likely had access. They were too strong and too valuable not to. Actually, I was sure my teacher did.

But Zun Gon? I wasn’t entirely convinced.

Before the previous Sect Leader left, Zun Gon hadn’t been all that important. But now? He was the pillar keeping the sect together. It would’ve been foolish not to have taken a Sky Grade Technique for himself.

Then again, I knew he could be foolish sometimes.

I scanned the scrolls, memorizing every technique name in the room, wondering which one would be best for Song Song. Certain Sky Grade Techniques had elemental or physical requirements. Song San’s technique, for example, probably required a poison affinity.

I picked up one of the scrolls with a familiar name written on it.

The moment I touched it, I felt a strange knocking sensation at the back of my head; it was an alarm array triggering.

As the elder in charge of martial techniques, I received the first warning. The second would go to the Sect Leader, or the de facto leader in this case, Zun Gon.

The second trigger only activated if someone left this room with knowledge of a scroll’s contents.

This was likely a high-level 6, maybe even a Level 7 array. My teacher had probably placed it here.

Did he install backdoors into these arrays for himself? Probably. He wasn’t supposed to… but would I be surprised if he did? Not even a little.

But even if he had sensed me here, what could he say? I was allowed to be here. It was within my responsibilities to check for missing scrolls. After a battle like that, it wouldn’t be out of the question to come up here and inspect things or catch a thief with their hand in the cookie jar.

Sure, I was the thief in this situation... but the excuse still held water.

I opened the scroll.

Immediately, dark letters poured out of it, shooting toward my forehead. This wasn’t new. The same thing had happened when I learned my own Sky Grade Technique. These weren’t physical attacks, more like a mental wave. Harmless, technically, but still qualifying as a type of mental intrusion.

I activated my Foundation Technique and began analyzing the structure of the incoming letters. I’d already dealt with this kind of transfer once before and had built a few countermeasures in preparation.

Before the dark letters could enter my mind, I tricked them into thinking they already had.

That’s when they condensed into a bead, about the size of my thumbnail. I extended my hand and caught it mid-air, the information neatly sealed inside the little black bead.

But as I held it, I frowned.

This was surprising.

Mental energy was usually only released in significant amounts when coming from a living being. But this bead? It radiated like it was alive. It released enough mental waves to seem almost like a person and a whole separate consciousness.

Anyone with a mental technique would sense it immediately. I hadn’t expected that.

Still, I didn’t waste time panicking. Instead, I analyzed the bead’s structure and began replicating it.

The information might be precious, but the method of delivery wasn’t overly complex.

Soon, an almost identical bead formed in my other hand.

It radiated mental energy too. That was a problem. A beacon, basically, for anyone with strong mental powers.

I sighed, placed the original bead back on the scroll, and watched as the dark letters reabsorbed into the paper. Then I rolled it up, returned it to its place, and even reshuffled the surrounding dust to match its original appearance.

Perfect. Now Song Song has a Sky Grade Technique.

I stared down at the bead in my hand.

While I can’t control how much mental energy the bead releases… I can control how much I do.

Without hesitation, I swallowed the black bead and suppressed my own mental waves.

Now, to anyone paranoid enough to scan me, I’d seem like a normal cultivator emitting average mental energy, nothing suspicious.

I walked down the hidden staircase and returned to my favorite section of the library, tucked between towering bookshelves.

So far, it looked like the heist had been a success. I had made sure to take this risk when the sect was most vulnerable. Now it was time to wait and see if anyone noticed.