The avatar of divine wrath slammed against the **Light Sanctuary** shielding Dunce. Sharing the Light affinity, there was no elemental clash. Still, the impact was staggering. Dunce's body convulsed, stumbling back several paces. The golden dome flickered, weakened, cracks spiderwebbing across its surface in less than a second. Under the crushing pressure, Dunce coughed up a mouthful of blood, the vibrant green *Vitality Aura* surrounding him dimming dangerously. His spirit strained at the breaking point.
Mystic Mystic Night, cloaked in his Archbishop's robes, was slightly taken aback. This nameless disciple's defensive magic shouldn't have weathered even the first strike! He pushed more magical power into his staff, *Heaven's Fury*, intensifying the assault. Only two seconds had passed.
Hidden nearby, Tianangang Blademaster had been ready to intervene. But seeing the unique defensive barrier Dunce conjured, he paused. *Interesting…* He settled back to watch, reserving his strength. Maybe the boy had more tricks. He'd step in only when Dunce truly buckled.
Driven relentlessly backwards by the wrathful light, Dunce slid nearly ten meters across the rocky plateau, agony etched on his face. His **Light Sanctuary**, enhanced as it was by the **Azure Dragon's Heart**, was fundamentally a 6th Circle spell. Against the full might of Mystic Mystic Night's divine barrage? Insufficient. At the three-second mark, the golden dome shattered like fragile glass.
The full force of the Archbishop's **Heaven's Fury** crashed directly onto Dunce's **Vitality Aura**. Instinctively, Dunce's left hand surged with heat – the **Guardian Ring** greedily absorbing the divine energy. But the torrent was too vast, too fast. Unable to devour it all, the ring burned, the overwhelming energy blasting through Dunce's defenses. Another crimson spray erupted from his lips. Consciousness teetered on the edge of oblivion.
Mystic Mystic Night felt a flicker of satisfaction. Time to withdraw. He couldn't kill the boy. As he began to lessen the output, a brilliant azure light erupted from Dunce's chest!
A wave of pure blue energy surged forth, coalescing instantly before him. It took shape: a dragon, majestic and potent. It roared, soundlessly, its massive maw opening… and it began to *devour* the golden wrath pouring from **Heaven's Fury**! Oblivious, Dunce succumbed to the darkness, unaware the **Azure Dragon's Heart**, catalyzed by the nascent draconic presence within, was draining Mystic Mystic Night's holy power.
Horror washed over the Archbishop. His formidable **Heaven's Fury** was being siphoned away like water down a drain! His reserves plummeted alarmingly. *What in the Slenderphim's name?!* This made no sense! Fearing critical depletion, he cut off the spell abruptly. The golden radiance vanished, leaving only the staff's subdued glow. Simultaneously, the blue dragon shimmered and disappeared.
The **Azure Dragon's Heart** wasn't inherently a devourer. Its last major act was shielding Dunce from the corrosive essence of the **Blade of the Hades**, absorbing its dark power. That lingering Nether essence, fused with the heart's own dragon might, had manifested as a desperate defense—its first and likely only act of voracious consumption. The stolen divine and Nether energies were swiftly assimilated by the slumbering dragon egg deep within the artifact.
Mystic Mystic Night swayed slightly, staring dumbfounded at the unconscious boy crumpled on the ground. "The **Azure Dragon's Heart**…?" he breathed, incredulous. "Impossible! Why would the Order's legendary relic be… *here*?" He recognized the blue dragon form from ancient Church archives. It was the Heart's unmistakable sigil.
Xiwen landed beside Dunce, scooping him up, his voice tight with anger barely contained. "Archbishop. That lasted considerably longer than five seconds." He channeled potent *Vitality* energy into Dunce's battered body, stabilizing him.
As Dunce fell, Mystic Mystic Moon felt the world spin. She cried out, running to his side, tears streaming. "Dunce! Dunce! Tandor't you dare die!"
Feeling the stabilizing pulse of energy beneath his hands, Xiwen assured her, "He's stable. He'll be alright."
Mystic Mystic Night sighed. Without his artifacts, the boy would have been obliterated instantly. That relic… it complicated everything. Destiny indeed. He moved to his daughter's side, voice weary. "Very well. Since Dunce endured the five seconds… the **Blade** remains under his guardianship. For now." His gaze hardened. "But mark my words. Should he ever use its foul power for evil, the Church *will* exact judgment. Mystic Mystic Moon. We leave." He touched her shoulder, casting a binding spell. She froze mid-sob as he turned to depart.
"My Tianangang Mountain Range," a calm, resonant voice cut through the air like a blade, "is not a place you simply visit, flex your power, and walk away from. Not so easily." A gentle breeze stirred, and Tianangang Blademaster stood before them. Unseen one moment, *present* the next.
"Master!" Xiwen and the others bowed deeply, relief palpable. They were aware of the conflict's escalation and Xiwen had discreetly sent word to the master in the rear peaks. Dealing with the Church required the Old Master's weight.
Mystic Mystic Night assessed the figure before him – the legendary Blademaster. Unassuming at first glance… but then he saw the eyes. Ancient, deep, holding the cold gleam of a honed blade within a face incongruously youthful.
The Blademaster turned slowly, his gaze locking onto Mystic Mystic Night's. It felt like standing exposed before a mountain summit. "I remember you, little monkey," he stated, voice devoid of warmth. "Grown into a fine Archbishop since I saw you decades ago. Come to kick up dust on my mountain. Your own father would call me 'Grand Elder Leaf,' were he here. Tandor't think your Church emblem grants you immunity here."
Mystic Mystic Night's heart lurched. His heritage as the Pope Mystic's son was a well-guarded secret! How could this man know? The Blademaster exuded an aura that made arrogance feel foolish. He bowed stiffly. "You honor me, Blademaster. I am Mystic Mystic Night."
Tianangang ignored the gesture. "Your purpose? To test my grand-disciple? To see if he measured up to *your* standards?"
Mystic Mystic Night bristled inwardly at the dismissal. "The **Blade of the Hades** is anathema, Old Master. I merely sought to assess his capacity to control such darkness."
The Blademaster snorted. "My grand-disciple's strength is *my* domain to assess, not yours. Since you tested him…" A cold smile touched his lips. "…perhaps it's time I tested *your* command of the arcane?"
A chill went down Mystic Mystic Night's spine. Challenge from *this* man? "Old Master," he managed, voice tight, "I concede your power far surpasses my own."
"Wise," Tianangang said flatly. "Let this be the last intrusion by your Order near my peaks. Suppress your resentment. If you seek a fight, send your father. Now. Watch." His left hand lifted, fingers splayed towards the sky.
A subtle shift in the ambient energy. The swirling mountain mist responded instantly, drawn like a massive tide towards the Blademaster's outstretched hand. His right wrist flicked. The gathered mist coalesced, solidifying into a gleaming blade of pure, condensed vapor held effortlessly.
Without flourish or apparent effort, he gestured. The mist-blade *shot* like a comet across the gorge towards a distant, jagged peak. All eyes followed its trajectory. There was no cataclysmic explosion. The sword simply… pierced. A massive, perfectly circular hole appeared near the summit, sheer cliffs untouched, no debris falling. It looked as if the mountain had *always* held that hole. Silence. Awe. Where Mystic Mystic Night's magic had been impressive power, *this* was transcendence. Unthinkable power wielded with casual grace.
Mystic Mystic Night drew a sharp breath. He knew his strongest destructive magics couldn't achieve such precision and force on a target so distant. The casual ease was terrifying. The man was right. Only his father… perhaps… could stand against this. "I… see your point, Old Master."
"Good," Tianangang said, hands clasped behind his back once more. "The Great Calamity approaches. Reserve your strength for that fight." His words resonated with prophetic weight.
Mystic Mystic Night's expression warred with frustration and reluctant acceptance. Finally, he said, "As senior to me, your words carry weight. I cannot dispute them."
A soft voice, carrying only to Mystic Mystic Night's ears: *Dispute internally? The boy is *your* junior. Apply your own logic. Could you endure five seconds against *my* full focus?* Tianangang continued aloud, "The **Blade** *is* perilous darkness. Dunce's current strength is insufficient to guard it long. But I will prove his potential to you. Five years from now, in this same place, you will face Dunce in single combat. If you win, the **Blade** is surrendered to the Church. If *he* triumphs… you will give your daughter's hand in marriage to him. Accept?" He had heard of the bond between Dunce and Mystic Mystic Moon from Xiwen. This was the leverage.
Mystic Mystic Night's eyes widened fractionally. A marriage clause? *Five years*? He almost scoffed. Five years was nothing. Dunce wouldn't reach Xiwen's level in thirty! His own power was still growing daily. The terms seemed… advantageous. "Agreed, Old Master," he declared, making his decision. "Five years hence, I shall return." He grasped Mystic Mystic Moon's immobilized arm, holy light gathering around them for teleportation.
"Wait!" Mystic Mystic Moon's choked sob stopped him.
Mystic Mystic Night glared, the Blademaster's pressure a constant weight. His humiliation stemmed from his daughter's actions. If the Blademaster demanded she stay… "*What now?*" he snapped.
Tears streamed down Mystic Mystic Moon's face as her father released the binding. "Father… I have something to return. To Dunce." She stumbled towards the impassive Blademaster, desperation in her eyes. "Grand Elder Leaf… please tell him… tell him Mystic Mystic Moon will never forget him. To take care. If fate allows… I will find him." She tugged off the **Spirit's Band**, its usual vibrant green faded here, offering it to him. "The Elf Queen gave this to us… to help find her lost kin. I… I just can't go with him anymore."
Tianangang took the bracelet, his stern features softening almost imperceptibly at the girl's grief, a sudden pang of memory for his own lost daughter. "Child, hone your gift upon your return. Your paths will cross again. I have little to give now… perhaps later, a guardian for you."
Sobbing anew, Mystic Mystic Moon cast one final, heart-wrenching look at Dunce, cradled unconscious in Xiwen's arms. "Tell him… tell him… I wish he would be my partner… forever." She spun and fled, tears like scattered diamonds catching the mountain sun.
Mystic Mystic Night sighed heavily, giving the Blademaster a formal nod before vanishing after his daughter in a flash of white radiance. Tianangang stood alone for a moment, murmuring to the sky, "Owen… your life held only bitterness. Let your disciple find the happiness you were denied. That is all I can offer you now."
Xiwen and the elders gathered. Zhou complained, "Master! How could you let him leave like that? His arrogance–"
"Zhou," Tianangang cut him off, his gaze piercing. "Three months of closed-door meditation. Curb your recklessness. Xiwen, enforce this." His expression grew serious. "That Archbishop possesses rare talent, potentially exceeding his father's. His future burns bright. While I could subdue him, consider the cost: all your precious peaks reduced to dust under the combined might of the Church's High Monk Priests unleashing forbidden spells. Against the Pope Mystic alone? Uncertain. At range, given time for his prayers… uncertain. Their divine connection grants potent, unnatural strength." His eyes swept over his disciples. "Cultivation remains paramount. The true conflict nears. I sensed Owen's presence within the boy… and his torment. Revenge must come, but the Sword Sanctuary cannot openly pursue it. Owen's actions carried shadows. Open involvement would stain our legacy." He stepped towards Xiwen and took Dunce's limp form. "Leave it to Dunce. It is his path, his responsibility, his Master's requiem."
"But Master!" Cultur protested. "Dunce is still so young! Even with his talent–"
Tianangang raised a hand. "My decision stands. Meet me at my retreat in six months. Until then… no disturbances." He turned, Dunce cradled against him, and vanished into the shadows of the mountain.
Xiwen bowed deeply towards the emptiness, his brothers following. "Back to the Sanctuary," he ordered. "It seems the Old Master… will be taking Dunce's training personally." He leveled a look at Zhou. "Three months. No excuses. Elder Leafs, intensify cultivation for all. The Old Master sees storms gathering. We must be ready." Cultur bowed in acknowledgment.
***
Within a shadowed chamber, thick stone walls muffling all sound.
"Why summon me?" A low, grating voice asked.
"Would I be here without cause?" An almost identical voice, equally devoid of warmth.
"Speak." The first voice remained flat.
"One of mine was ambushed and slain by one of *yours*. An *Acquirer*. Explain, *Master* of the Shadow's Guild." The Thieves Guildmaster materialized from the gloom. The Thieves Guild's sanctuary was hidden, but no secret to the master of subterfuge.
"Hmm? What?" The Master's voice held genuine surprise.
"My Acquirer. Slain by one of your assassins. You know the resources an Acquirer consumes! More than your disposable *Annihilators*!" The Guildmaster's anger was barely contained.
"Impossible," the Master stated flatly. "To kill an Acquirer one-on-one requires, at minimum, a *Primal Slayer*. All mine are accounted for. No external missions authorized. Are you mistaken? Our Guilds maintain… symbiosis."
A derisive snort. "Riveraken? *The Nether's Gleam, a world undone.* Only your ace assassin, the *Hades*, wields that power. Or now… his apprentice does. That apprentice slew my man with the Blade."
The Master hissed sharply. "The apprentice? A youth? Clumsy, seeming slow?"
"Exactly. Confirm it, then?"
The Master paused, reassessing. "…There is no confirmation to give. That apprentice is unaligned. Listen closely: The *Hades* broke from my Guild long ago. Betrayed us."
A sharp intake of breath, then skepticism. "Deceit? He worked tirelessly for decades, a perfect tool! You never rewarded loyalty? Or was he simply too costly?"
A dangerous edge entered the Master's tone. "Consider our mutual standing, Guildmaster. Mutual destruction serves neither." He paused, then continued, the words measured. "The Hades overheard… private matters. Vital secrets. He fled after taking *Irrevocable Bliss*. He escaped two purges. He is likely dead now. But the cost…" The voice flickered with cold rage. "…three Annihilators, six Primal Slayers, and my Second-in-Command's right arm. Your apprentice… his existence is known to us. A target. *He* killed your man. His act. Not ours. Location?"
The Guildmaster cooled slightly. "Within the Sylvan Wood. Gone now, destination unknown." He paused, sensing calculation. "Locate him. I expect resolution. Your Guild… holds the blade."
"Understood," the Master replied, voice smooth again. "Consider him marked. The Thieves Guild treads profitable paths… one wonders the purpose in that ancient wood?"
"Irrelevant to you, Master. Your profits flow faster than any river." The Guildmaster's form began to waver. "Expect updates."
Silence descended. Then soft, humorless laughter from the Master. "Attempt to leash the Shadow? Futile." He turned towards a darker corner.
A figure materialized, cloaked, one sleeve empty. "Master. His insolence grows. Should we… remove the annoyance?"
The Master raised a hand. "No. Their network is vast. Value remains. For now." He turned fully. "We silenced the Hades's betrayal effectively. Until now. This changes things. Recall all operatives searching for the apprentice. The Thieves' web will catch him for us." His voice took on a predatory edge. "Imagine… that power reclaimed. Molded. Leashed. We could forge a new **Hades**. A perfect blade."
The Second frowned. "But the Hades perished by our design. His apprentice would never–"
The Master cut him off. "Resistance crumbles before persistent will. Nothing is impossible. Forge your forces instead. Sharpen the weapons we *have*. True power… reveals itself soon." His eyes, in the near darkness, seemed to flicker with an unnatural crimson ember.
"As you command, Master." The Second retreated into the shadows, unseen by the gleam in his master's eyes.