CHAPTER 82: THE SECT MASTER

"Y-Yes."

The disciple stammered and quickly stepped aside. He didn’t want to lose his life just for pretending to be loyal.

Edward didn’t spare him a second glance. He was in a hurry, and definitely not in the mood to entertain someone so far below him in the food chain. He turned his head slightly and spoke to Zereth beside him.

"Wait here."

Without another word, he strode through the gate and vanished into the darkness ahead.

Beyond the gate stretched a long, damp tunnel. At the end of it was a cave-like chamber. Rough and unpolished stone walls were enclosing this vast space which was dimly lit by flickering blue flames mounted on torches hanging in the walls. In the center of the room, there was a slab of black stone. And a man who appeared well over a hundred years old was sitting in lotus position on top of it.

His body looked frail—thin skin stretched over bones that seemed ready to break with a gust of wind. But despite that, his presence was suffocating. Even in stillness, the pressure in the air made it hard to breathe. He was completely absorbed in meditation.

Then—

Tap... Tap... Tap...

Soft footsteps echoed faintly from the other end of the tunnel. Like someone was walking slowly toward this room.

When the footsteps reached the mouth of the cave, the old man’s eyes finally opened—sharp and cloudy.

A shadow emerged from the tunnel. It was Edward.

He stepped inside and dropped to one knee immediately. Then bowed his head low to show proper respect.

But before he could utter a single word, a sudden shadow burst slammed into him.

WHAM!

Edward’s body flew across the room like a ragdoll and crashed into the rocky ground with a heavy thud. Blood trickled from the corner of his lips.

A raspy, cracked voice followed—one that sounded like dry bones grinding against each other.

"Edward! How dare you interrupt my meditation? Did I not make myself clear? I am in the middle of selection!"

The cave trembled slightly with his fury.

Edward coughed with his face down and forced himself to reply. "F-Forgive me, Sect Master. But... it’s urgent."

"Urgent?" the old man snarled. "Then speak. But if this turns out to be nonsense, you’ll die where you kneel."

Edward wiped the blood from his lips and nodded quickly. "Master, do you remember the healer named Zereth... the one who used to work under us?"

"Zereth?" the old man’s tone remained cold. "Yes. What about him?"

"He encountered a boy. This was three years ago. A boy with no mana core at the time. And yet..." Edward hesitated.

"Speak plainly!" the old man barked.

Edward swallowed. "He still lost. Zereth was defeated. He slipped into a coma for years. And when he finally awoke... his first request was for our help—to abduct that same boy. We sent a Tier 4 mage and two Tier 3s. But..."

He paused. "They died...All of them."

The old man’s expression didn’t change. "So? Zereth was weak. Perhaps that boy had hidden guardians. It’s common for noble families. Why should I care about the deaths of a few fools?"

"No, Master," Edward said quickly. "I think.... it was the boy who killed them. Alone."

The Sect Master’s brows furrowed slightly. But he remained unconvinced. "You’ve lost your mind mixing with that idiot."

Edward didn’t flinch. "Please, Master. Hear me out fully first. That boy participated in the Tournament of Young Mages this year. He awakened before the age of fourteen. He has three elemental affinities. In the quarterfinals, he defeated a Tier 2 mage. But that’s not the important part."

He leaned forward slightly, voice dropping to a near-whisper.

"He took a direct killing blow, Master. But he stood up—injured, yes—but alive. I swear, even I would’ve died from that attack. But he..." Edward exhaled slowly. "His body was odd beyond words. I believe he’s using a body-enhancing technique. Something that strengthens the physical vessel far beyond normal magic reinforcement."

And at that, the old man finally stirred. The fury in his face faded. His eyes narrowed with intense curiosity.

"...Are you sure?" he asked, voice low but sharp as steel.

"Yes, Master. I am fully confident."

The silence that followed was heavy. The Sect Master fell into deep thought, his long fingers curling slightly atop his knees.

If what Edward said was true...

Then this boy either has a magic artifact or a technique far superior to magic that enhances strength.

"How did Zereth meet the boy?" the old man finally asked. "Tell me everything."

Edward began recounting the story. How the first wife of House Smith—Mirena—had secretly contacted Zereth years ago. How she had suspicions about her stepson and had requested Zereth to test the child’s strength discreetly. How Zereth had been shocked and terrified after his failure, and how his obsession grew even while in a coma.

He described everything—the time when they sent men to abduct the boy’s mother, but how the plan failed, and how Zereth was still recovering, but his fear hadn’t faded.

As Edward spoke, the Sect Master’s expression darkened.

To defeat a Tier 4 mage before even turning fourteen.

To survive a killing blow that would destroy seasoned warriors.

"This boy... he is either a freak of nature. Or he has some valuable weapon in his possession." The old man thought.

"...What’s his name?"

Edward hesitated for a second before answering.

"Logan. Logan Smith of House Smith."

The old man muttered the name under his breath. Then his eyes gleamed with something dangerous.

"You said his stepmother asked for Zereth’s help, Right? Have her brought here. The sooner the better. She sure knows something."

Edward nodded quickly. "Yes, Master."

The old man slowly rose from his meditation stone, bones cracking slightly as he stood upright. Despite his appearance, the cave itself seemed to bow in response to his rising presence.

"And have someone keeping an eye on the boy as well. I want his every detail." The old man blurted again.

"Yes master." After replying Edward bowed with respect and left the place in a hurry.