Red regarded the medallion with some wariness.

He looked up at Hector. “What kind of position?”

The elder smiled. “Have you ever heard of a heron bird?”

Red shook his head.

“They are adept and stealthy hunters.” Hector said. “Yet they don’t stalk and search for their prey like you might think. Instead, they wade into shallow waters using their long legs and remain still and observant, waiting for a fish to come by so they may catch it. Sometimes they even use bait to attract their prey. They are incredibly patient hunters, and many cultivators have studied these beasts’ mannerisms to develop their own techniques.”

The boy frowned. “What do you mean to say?”

Red was always interested in learning more about beasts and other matters of the cultivation world, but right now, his priority was to understand what Hector wanted of him.

The Hector continued to smile. “Some cultivators who studied these herons were from my sect. They incorporated their observations into their weapon techniques and became some of the most adept assassins in the cultivation world. They hid in plain sight, waiting for their victims to wander by. Then, in the blink of an eye, they struck, and suddenly our sect had one less enemy to worry about. Most of the time, the people in the scene didn’t even see what happen before our assassins left the scene.”

Red sighed. “So that’s what you want me to be? An assassin?”

Domeron spoke up. “I think it fits you. This practice requires patience, ruthlessness, and an eye for opportunity. Out of everyone in this sect, you are the only person who has all three of those traits in abundance.”

The boy wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to be flattered.

“Of course, I do not intend to send you on political assassinations like our sect did.” Hector said. “What I want is for you to protect and watch the back of those three. They lack the resolve and ruthlessness required to thrive in the cultivation world, and although I hope one day they will grow up too, I must have someone willing to do what’s necessary with them.”

“You mean you want me to kill everyone who threatens them?” Red asked.

Hector nodded with a grin. “More or less. Of course, I don’t mean to trick you. You would still be an assassin, trained to get rid of the enemies of this sect. However, you may rest easy in the fact that you are doing this for your companions and not for my own personal interests.”

Red sighed. “That doesn’t sound very convincing.”

The elder scoffed. “Nothing I say will be fully convincing to a paranoid child like you. How about a promise then - if you do not agree with a mission I assign you, you may refuse it. How does that sound?”

Red hesitated. This was an extremely important decision he was about to make, and he wasn’t willing to rush into it while not aware of all the benefits and dangers involved in it.

Domeron seemed to have almost read his mind. “Your training will also change. I will not only teach you how to fight, but I will also teach you how to kill. This will involve teaching you the weapon arts of the Great Heron School of the Ocean Bearers Sect.”

The boy’s interest was piqued. “You mean like a Spiritual Art?”

The swordsman nodded. “More or less. It’s something you will be able to use in the future if you break into the Lesser Ring Realm.”

Red’s hesitation disappeared. “Then I’ll do it.”

Hector glared at the boy. “What, was the prospect of helping your companions not attractive enough for you? All I needed to do was to offer you a reward for you to do something?”

Red nodded. “Yes.”

“Bah, get out of here, you greedy brat!”

“… What do I do with the medallion?

“Just take it with you! I don’t care!”

Red examined the lump of metal. “Can I sell it?”

Hector’s eyes twitched. “If you sell it, I’ll skin you alive!”

Red supposed that was a no.

Domeron sighed. “Just go rest. Your training will begin tomorrow, and I’m sure Goulth will also want to talk your ear off.”

Red nodded and walked towards the exit, leaving behind a fuming Hector and a smiling Domeron.

As soon as he walked out of the hall, he saw Narcha and Eiwin waiting for him near the fence. The boy wondered whether they had heard any of his conversation with Hector, but he didn’t think the elder would be careless when talking about so much important information.

Narcha waved him over. “Come here, kid!”

Red walked to them.

The warrior smiled. “You’re still alive, huh?”

The boy frowned. “Were you worried Hector was going to kill me?”

“Well-”

“We were not.” Eiwin cut her companion off. “We were simply worried Hector was going to punish you for bringing Allen out… Wait, did he?”

Red shook his head. “He just wanted to talk about the trial.”

“Talk about the trial?” Narcha seemed confused. “What else could you tell him we didn’t already?”

“He thought I was a more impartial witness to the events there and could give him a more reliable account on what happened.” Red said. “He told me he couldn’t trust you because you were too hot-headed, and he couldn’t trust Eiwin either because she always covers for you.”

The boy lied as naturally as he breathed, and the two women seemed to be convinced by it.

Narcha gritted her teeth in anger. “That bastard! That’s exactly something that he would say!”

‘I know, which is why I came up with it.’

“Enough, Miss Valt.” Eiwin shook her head. “It is understandable that Master Hector would be wary of us after what happened. Besides, we didn’t omit anything in our report, so there is nothing he could fault us for.”

The warrior nodded with some reluctance. “I suppose you’re right…”

“Is that all you wanted to ask about? I’d like to rest if that’s fine.” Red said.

“Wait!” Narcha stopped him. “There’s something else.”

The woman picked something out of her pouch before handing it to Red. It was a glass vial full of dozens of green-colored pills.

Red examined the medicine. “What is this?”

“Wood-Attributed Vein Opening Pills.” Narcha said. “I exchanged for them with the remaining Spirit Stones we had.”

The boy frowned. “Why didn’t you give this to Hector?”

The warrior shook her head. “That’s because it belongs to you. You gave out all your Spirit Stones to me to exchange for the medicine and couldn’t exchange for anything for yourself. It’s only fair I got something for you.”

Red didn’t know how to respond.

Eiwin smiled. “You don’t need to hesitate, Red. These pills will be very useful for you in opening the rest of your veins. Wood is the most gentle of elements too, so the energy in the medicine will be very easy to control.”

Red nodded, storing the vial in his pocket. “Thank you.”

Narcha scoffed. “There’s no need for thanks. If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t have gotten very far in that trial.”

Eiwin nodded. “She is right. You have helped us in more ways than you can possibly know, Red, so it’s only fair you are rewarded for it.”

“Now go and have your rest!” the warrior waved him off. “We are tired too, so we’ll be going to our own rooms.”

Red nodded again and walked away.

At this point, his crimson sense could already encompass the entire sect, so the boy knew there was no one waiting for him near his room. That was ideal. He needed time to think.

Red entered the small wooden building, closing the door behind himself. He didn’t even bother turning on the lantern, as his improved vision allowed him to see in the room's darkness. He sat on the bed, taking out the bottle of pills Narcha had just given him.

The boy was conflicted.

‘Do I tell her about the Parting Storm formation?’

Red didn’t know. There were too many complications with this matter. On one hand, it was the best way he could repay Narcha for lying to her, but on the other hand, it was an enormous risk he would be taking.

First of all, the boy couldn’t reveal this formation to any other specialists, considering the value it had. He needed to build it himself, but he didn’t know how long that would take him. Narcha only had a few years left to open her Spiritual Sea, and Red was just not sure he could learn it by then, much less gather all the supposed rare materials. Then there was also the fact that this formation wasn’t a pill - it didn’t guarantee you could open your Spiritual Sea. Sure, for Narcha it was better than nothing, but was it worth it for the boy to give her false hope?

Maybe it was the only chance she had, but Red needed time to do his research first. As long as he felt it was possible to build this formation within two years, then he would tell Narcha about it. If it was impossible, then there was no point in giving her hope only to waste her time.

At this moment, the boy was too mentally tired to go through the Arcane Scripture book, though. There was, however, something he was keen to try.

He picked out one of the manuals from his pouch and read the title.

‘Storm’s Blessing.’

It was a curious name. Could a storm ever be considered a blessing? Weren’t they a very destructive natural phenomenon? Perhaps there was a deeper meaning behind this, but Red wasn’t in the right mindset to think about it.

He opened the book and right on the first few pages he found out what he was looking - the vein opening technique that the hawk had spoken about. Once he read the name of said art, though, his expression changed.

‘Rain dance?’

Since when could a dance help you open your veins? As Red continued to read the instructions, he was even more perplexed. The manual depicted a set of ridiculous and exaggerated movements, which it called dance moves. Apparently, Red was supposed to repeat this dance until he felt the spirit of the rain calling for him, and by then the blessed Spiritual Energy would enter his body. Not only that, but the boy had to repeat the same sentence the entire time he was practicing the technique.

‘Oh rain, bless your lost child.’

The boy almost thought this was an elaborate prank, but he doubted the hawk would spend so much effort just to trick the trial’s winner. So, Red decided to put the manual down and tried to imitate the movements.

As soon as he did the first steps, the boy hesitated.

‘This is ridiculous.’

Red sighed and put such thoughts to the back of his mind. He repeated the movements many times with diligence, even if he thought of them as silly. The dance itself was very simple, with many hops and movements of the arms, as if praying to the skies.

Red spoke the sentence outloud, knowing through his crimson sense no one else was near him to hear it. This went on for almost ten minutes, with nothing happening.

Just as the boy was thinking that he was doing something wrong, he heard the boom of thunder in his ear. His movements faltered as he was shocked.

‘Is it raining?’

Red looked at the sky outside his window. It was a clear night, with no signs of clouds.

‘What is going-’

Before the boy could complete his thought, another boom sounded in his ear, and he felt a raging tide of energy enter his veins.