The exhilarating sensation of his bones shifting in composition and shape tickled him from within. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch, but in a good way. Like he could punch a wall and actually have his fist pass through it without breaking.

He couldn’t, but still, he felt like he could.

“Six months just to break through to the Second Layer,” said the Shadow, within a mirror that had been replaced in his absence, “You’re slow beyond compare.”

“And that’s thanks to Emma,” he said, “While you watched me do something useless for months.”

Before the auction, she gave her advice on Cultivation. Namely, using the Qi to refine parts of his body rather than try to absorb more, like he assumed he had to do.

The Shadow didn’t respond. It merely grinned within the mirror.

Most would scream in terror if they saw a mass of darkness within their mirror, but it was something that he was getting used to.

“I can properly hit people now,” said Adrian as he stared down at his hands.

He clenched his fist and felt that the bones were closer together but wider, giving a sense of being more compact. His skin had darkened significantly, courtesy to not having ejected the impurities that were pushed out of the bones.

“I feel disgusting,” he said, after a few seconds.

He’d have to practice bloodletting for the impurities to leave his body but he didn’t have much time for now.

The matches would begin in an hour and if he let out too much blood, he’d be weakened significantly. Just a tiny bit wouldn’t hurt, he supposed.

There was no stench yet, but if he started to bleed, then the reek of the impurity would escape his body. Even if he could possibly be weakened by it, it made him feel dirty on a fundamental level.

Adrian bit into his thumb and cracked the skin for the blood to drip down into a pre-prepared bucket.

As wasteful as he was, he liked this rug and didn’t want it to be replaced. Its color was relaxing to the eye and it was comfortable to bare feet.

The putrid blood dripped into the iron bucket and an unbelievable stench that could be likened to waste emanated his room, forcing him to open a window for proper air circulation as the thick black blood accumulated in the bucket.

Almost a cup’s worth dripped down and that was when the wound closed: the healing factor due to his subconscious usage of Qi, which every Cultivator had to some degree.

It was said that immortals could recover from any injury short of a loss of their head or total destruction of the body.

“For the first time, I am elated that my sense of smell has not followed me into the mirror,” said the Shadow.

He’d love nothing more than a quick dip into a bath but he was pressed for time, and on top of that, a bath would do him no good save for making him feel clean.

The impurities that were expelled from the muscles and the flesh came straight from the pores, so they were easy to clean but the impurities from the bones ejected themselves into the veins and circulated through them.

Adrian brought the thumb he’d bitten close to his eyes and stared at the mark he’d left: it was like a bite mark, except if it didn’t pierce the flesh despite the fact that he did.

The Qi within him healing his wounds was less regeneration and more akin to turning back time, or reverting the body to a state it hadn’t been injured in. It was due to this that Cultivators could live for millennia, their aging halted as the Qi kept them in their prime for longer than they should be in.

“I forgot,” said Adrian, staring off at empty space.

“Forgot what?” asked the Shadow.

“I had to meet her at the Beaumont Estate before the tournament,” said Adrian.

Wait… couldn’t it read his thoughts?

Then why was it asking?

“I was testing you,” the Shadow said quickly, now inside his head instead of the mirror.

He grabbed a fancy shirt from the bed and put it on, then jumped out the window as if it was the exit. He looked natural while doing that, too, as if he was used to it.

With the elegance of a paper in the wind, which wasn’t a lot, Adrian floated down to the ground and landed.

Soon, he’d learn to activate it mid-fall but he ended up panicking after the first second passed, only to activate the Cloud Body Technique while panicking most of the time.

By far, it was the technique that he’d used the most and had served him the best, for the Mystifying Palm, while strong, wasn’t practical against an opponent like Diana: the one he’d barely managed to defeat last time.

There was no need to hurry over to the Beaumont Estate, for there was a carriage with their insignia waiting outside the doorway of the house. The lack of a fence or gate made the mansion look more welcoming than an estate.

“That’s convenient,” he mumbled as he walked up to it.

The chauffeur that had been standing next to the door opened it for him before taking his seat at the front of the carriage.

How long had they been waiting over there?

“Can’t believe I didn’t know I could do this,” said Adrian after he took a seat opposite to Emma, who was dressed in practical clothes that would often be associated with men: a leather armor that extended to her elbow and loose brown pants.

“I expected that you’d be busy cultivating,” said Emma, “Since you couldn’t stay put even on the way back.”

“So… what happened? When the items came, I mean,” said Adrian.

They got three items, two of which that no one knew about save for the people from the Imperial Auction House. If the Ginseng was such a treasure, then the other two had to be as well.

“Everyone expected it,” said Emma and shrugged, “But you made all the Young Masters drop their jaws. That alone is enough. Now everyone thinks that the Beaumonts are better off than we actually are.”

The carriage had already started moving.

“That’s good, then,” said Adrian, and he sunk back to his seat.

He wanted to do the bloodletting ritual earlier than later and that meant he wanted the fights to finish quickly.

“How long did you take to reach the third layer?” asked Adrian.

She had better talent than him if the Shadow’s words could be trusted, and that meant he’d take longer.

“Within a year of awakening,” she said, “It’s all smooth-sailing until you have to break through to the Flesh Refinement layer, which is where the bottleneck is. I’ll instruct you after you breakthrough.”

He did need an instructor, for the Shadow was more of an observer that threw in a witty remark every now and then than anything useful.

“And when did you awaken?” asked Adrian.

“Back when I was twelve,” she said.

That’s six years ago!

Would it actually take that long for him as well?

No, he didn’t care about that.

He wanted immortality and that meant time was of no essence to him. Perhaps it’d take him millennia to achieve it or even more, but he didn’t care. He would reach the top, no matter what, and then achieve immortality that even other immortals wouldn’t dream of.

“Giving up?” she asked with a small smirk.

“I think I’ll be in solitary cultivation for a bit,” said Adrian, “I hear it helps.”

Emma looked at him, a weird expression on her face: not quite a smirk, but something along the lines of a normal smile.

“What?” he asked.

“No one does that,” she said.

“But you did,” he countered.

“That’s just a fancy way of saying that I went missing for a bit. It happens a lot,” she said, “It’s easier to explain that way.”

Then no one did Closed-Door Cultivation?

“Not at all,” she said, “I got lost in the Cloud Mountains north of Dreamy Firmament City. They called for an immortal from the capital to save me. That’s why our treasury’s shrunk considerably.”

She got lost in the mountains from where no one returns from?

And an immortal could find her from such a place?

“We’re here!” shouted the chauffeur, interrupting their conversation.

Emma pulled out a pocket watch from a small purse she often carried and took a glance at it. It was silver, with a button that made it pop open.

“Just in time,” she said and clicked it shut.

“Wasn’t it faster to just run here?” asked Adrian, “Since we can run faster than carriages.”

“That is absolutely unacceptable,” she said and puffed up her cheeks a bit, “We must show up fashionably. Together and in my carriage. Since you’re my betrothed.”

That made Adrian think about how similar she was to his father.

Both of them liked showing off. One just had a lot more at his disposal to show off with, whereas all Emma could do was look dramatic with her actions.

“Hold the door for me,” said Emma and added, “To show off.”

Adrian hopped off the carriage and held it open, but Emma rubbed her forehead.

“Never jump off. Always use the stairs,” said Emma.

Then she made her way down the extendable stairs of the carriage that was folded into a small box after kicking it down, “It’s so inelegant. That’s why you have to do it. But very well, there was no one to see it this time.”

“Alright,” said Adrian and rolled his eyes while looking away.

It had seemed easy to just become her husband and get rid of troubles down the line, but now, she was demanding him to look stylish at all times?

Then they walked into the participants’ area, their hands linked.

He was getting used to it.

“If you’re matched against someone stronger than you, which means someone other than Isabella, then it’s better to put up a show and then forfeit,” suggested Emma, “You might get humiliated otherwise.”

He gave her a nod.

Adrian knew better than her that he had no chance against Tristan but he felt that he had a chance against Edna and Eric.

Eric was silently sitting on one of the benches with his female follower, whom Adrian knew to be Isabella. She was quite strong, as she’d managed to defeat one of the Young Masters from the minor Noble Houses with little difficulty.

Tristan and Edna, on the other hand, were as noisy as Adrian expected them to be.

“No, you do that!” shouted Edna.

“No way! That’d be unfair,” growled Tristan, “You join them.”

“Screw that. I already have a combo move planned with Adrian!” she shouted, “I wanna use it.”

“No, no, no. It’d be unfair if I join that side so you do it,” said Tristan, “I want a proper fight.”

“Boo. You’re gonna get wasted by our combo either way,” she said.

“Blah, blah, blah. I wanna fight Eric so you go there,” he said.

Just… what the hell was happening?

Emma stared at the two of them and covered her mouth with a delicate hand, intentionally failing to hide a smirk.

She just wanted to look cool.

“Oh my, oh my. Don’t you think you need my permission to get close to my husband?” asked Emma out loud, “It’s improper, don’t you think?”

Edna glared at her, one eye widened and the other narrowed. Then she tiptoed toward Emma, whispered something into her ear and that made Adrian get goosebumps.

“Hmm, hmm,” nodded Emma, then she said out loud, “That sounds good. I shall allow it.”

What was she allowing?

“Bah, the women on this continent are too feisty,” said the Shadow inside his head, “Perhaps that is the charm.”

Edna stepped the duo and she stuck her finger out.

“Huh?!” shouted Tristan, “That’s unfair!”

“Quiet down,” growled Eric, earning himself a glare from Tristan, to which he answered, “It’s unsightly.”

“Fine,” Tristan grumbled and took a seat next to Isabella and Eric.

He was lost —too lost.

“What the hell’s happening?” asked Adrian.

“The next match is a team fight,” said Emma, “Three against three. She wants to do a cool-looking technique with you. It’s fine, right?”

Edna… was on their side while Tristan was on the other side?!

That was bullshit.