“Who else? My master,” Dante sighed. “He’s been short on spirit stones for ages, but he still spent tens of millions at the auction. Where do you think he got them? Borrowed from the other Elders, of course.”

  Lauren blinked. “He… borrowed?”

  “The Talisman Sect’s been rolling in spirit stones lately from selling talismans,” Dante explained. “Mr. Cornelius used to have plenty. But he recently acquired some kind of ancient Talisman inheritance, and now he’s making everyone in his sect re-refine it, buy materials, you name it. The cost’s insane. He’s broke.”

  Lauren’s expression softened. So that “special Talisman inheritance” must’ve been the one she’d passed on to her master.

  “Ms. Lauren, I… uh…” Dante trailed off, looking painfully uncomfortable.

  Lauren arched an eyebrow. “…What did you do?”

  Dante winced. “You know the spirit stones you gave me for processing the mermaid scales? I… accidentally spent them.”

  Lauren stared at him, deadpan. “…You spent them?”

  Knowing Dante, he wasn’t the type to squander money. He wouldn’t even touch her robe fund without asking.

  “Could it have been robbed by the headmaster?”

  Dante froze. His face drained of color as he glanced around like a thief caught red-handed.

  Lauren blinked, then immediately understood. Oh. So the headmaster really was that kind of person.

  Dante cleared his throat awkwardly. “My master was good to me. He didn’t return the spirit stones, but… he did give me a very nice set of armor.”

  Lauren nearly laughed. Nice set of armor, my ass. If he didn’t give the spirit stones back, it wasn’t a gift—it was daylight robbery.

  She sighed, then handed Dante his portion of the proceeds. “Here. These are the spirit stones from the Blood Qi Pills Master sold.”

  After accounting for the auction fees, each of the four of them—Lauren, Dante, Nash, and Westin—received thirty-five million spirit stones.

  Add to that the spirit stones Drake had given her earlier, and Lauren was now, without exaggeration, one of the wealthiest cultivators below the Nascent Soul stage.

  Dante’s face lit up. He couldn’t hide his grin; even the normally calm and collected man broke into genuine laughter.

  Then a thought struck him, and he quickly stuffed the storage bag into his robes.

  “Master can’t know about this,” he muttered.

  Lauren chuckled. “Right.” Then, lowering her voice conspiratorially, she asked, “Oh, by the way—Immortal Herbert’s real name is Porky, isn’t it?”

  Dante’s eyes widened. He leaned in and whispered, “Keep that to yourself. Only the old-timers know. If anyone calls him that to his face, they’re basically asking to get flattened. Let’s just… not mention it in front of him. Unless you want to end up like my master.”

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “What happened to the headmaster?” Lauren asked, curious.

  “He got shocked,” Dante said flatly. “Literally. He’s lying there, still twitching.”

  Lauren pressed her lips together, fighting the urge to laugh. But with powerful cultivators like Gerald around, she didn’t dare. For all she knew, he might be eavesdropping from halfway across the sect.

  After chatting with Dante a bit longer, she finally took her leave.

  It was time to prepare for her closed-door cultivation.

  Breaking into the Nascent Soul Stage wasn’t something to take lightly—it was every bit as perilous as the Foundation Establishment and Core Formation breakthroughs.

  Heavenly thunder, bizarre phenomena, inner demons—she’d have to face all of it head-on.

  Before starting her seclusion, she consecrated her new talisman pen and refined the Strange Fire she had acquired. Then she stopped by Elder Zane’s quarters to check on things.

  Timothy was still recovering, and Indiana was nursing him back to health. That meant those two troublemakers were off the board for a while—a huge relief.

  At least for the next few months, there wouldn’t be any unnecessary chaos.

  Lauren spent the rest of the day gathering beast cores and materials from completed sect missions. As she turned to leave, she casually posted another quest for more beast cores.

  Elder Zane raised an eyebrow. “Why do you need so many beast cores? Don’t tell me you’re using them for cultivation.”

  “Huh? No,” Lauren said quickly.

  “That’s good,” Zane said, his tone softening. “If you ever do use them for cultivation, do it sparingly. A little can be beneficial, but overuse invites karmic backlash. It may not show now, but when you try to ascend later, it’ll hit you hard. It’s irreversible—worse than erysipelas.”

  Lauren bowed respectfully. “Understood. Thank you, Elder Zane, for the warning.”

  Once she had finished arranging everything, she decided to pay her master a visit—to borrow the Ice Cave for her impending breakthrough.

  But outside Starfell Hall, she ran into Tarot, who was waiting by the entrance.

  “Master’s busy,” he said. “Immortal Herbert’s inside.”

  Lauren blinked. “Herbert? What’s he doing here?”

  Tarot shrugged. “No idea.”

  Lauren frowned slightly. “Guess I’ll wait, then.”

  .....

  Inside the palace.

  Herbert was still fuming over the Blood Qi Pill incident. But after all, he’d already bought it—and eaten it. Compared to those who wanted the pill but couldn’t even get close, Drake hadn’t treated him that badly. There was really nothing to resent.

  If anyone deserved blame, it was that scheming bastard, Gerald. There were two pills, and they’d agreed to split them evenly, right? But no—Gerald had to play dirty. He had it coming.

  Typical bully. Always pretending to be upright, but the moment you turned your back—stab, stab, stab.

  Herbert shook his head, forcing his temper down, and carefully unfolded the letter Drake had given him.

  “It’s all a blur down here,” he said with a helpless sigh. “I can’t make out a damn thing. Immortal Drake, could you… maybe read it for me?”

  Drake glanced at the parchment, then back at him, his voice cool. “I know you can’t see clearly.”

  Herbert froze, the polite smile on his face twitching.

  You know I can’t see clearly… and you still gave it to me? What kind of game are you playing, old man?

  Drake didn’t even look up as he said, “Once you break through to Mahayana, you’ll be able to read it yourself.”

  Herbert: “…”

  Internally, he was swearing up a storm, but outwardly, he kept the same forced, diplomatic smile. “Immortal Master, of course I hope to break through to Mahayana, but you know how hard it is. I—”

  “If you can’t break through,” Drake interrupted, “then there’s no point in knowing what’s written there.”

  Herbert: “…”

  He’d never felt this speechless in his life. Then why the hell did you write it for me in the first place?!

  Drake looked at him, expression unreadable. “You’ve been stuck at the threshold of Mahayana for years now. You’ve got all the right conditions, so why can’t you take that final step?”

  Herbert’s lips parted, then closed again. If I knew that, would I still be stuck here, you old bastard?

  Drake continued calmly, “You have a Thunder Spiritual Root. You’re naturally resistant to tribulation lightning. You shouldn’t be blocked at this stage.”