The elder blinked in surprise. "Are you certain you wish to purchase it outright… and not borrow it?"
Without a word, Long Huang stacked a neat pile of gold notes on the counter and pushed them forward.
"I don't have time to waste. Prepare the bow," said Long Huang with an annoyed expression.
The elder's eyes widened in shock. He still couldn't process what was happening, for this same youth who haggled over a few gold now was spending over a thousand gold notes without hesitation.
"O-Of course!" the elder stammered, quickly retrieving the bow and placing it in an intricately carved box. Not wanting to miss the opportunity for more business, he added,
"Would you like arrows as well?"
"Prices"
"I have high-grade ones for three silver each."
Long Huang nodded. "Give me a hundred thank you."
"At once, at once!" the elder stammered, scrambling to get the arrows while he also packaged the bow in an ornate ebony case.
The arrow tips were coated with poison from a black-toothed viper, which was famously known for its deadly poison among demon beasts.
The transaction was swift. With the Mysterious Silver Bow slung across his back and a quiver of fine arrows at his side, Long Huang stepped out of the pavilion, his mind already racing toward his next destination — the western mountains, his home.
But before he could take more than a few steps, a voice called out behind him.
"Young master, that bow… it has a powerful history."
Long Huang turned to see the elderly man leaning against the doorway, his eyes sharp despite his aged appearance.
"What do you mean?" Long Huang asked.
The old man smiled faintly. "It was once wielded by a master archer who ventured deep into the Archdevil Mountain Range… and never returned. Some say the bow carries his lingering will."
A flicker of intrigue danced in Long Huang's eyes. "Then it's even more suited for me," he stated, a hint of excitement in his voice. Just as Long Huang was about to question the old man for more information, he vanished into thin air. Long Huang raised an eyebrow, a mixture of confusion and curiosity washing over him.
"That's weird," he muttered to himself. With a final glance around the weapon pavilion, he stepped outside, the weight of unanswered questions lingering in the air.
As Long Huang strode away from the weapon pavilion back to the western mountains, the weight of the Mysterious Silver Bow rested comfortably against his back.
Yet, something gnawed at him, a whisper of instinct, a feeling that something was missing.
"A bow grants me range, but what if I'm forced into close combat?"
"Even though I have the Archdevil Limitless Blade Art is more of a trump card and is meant for big battles rather than one-on-one combat," Long Huang thought.
Performing the Archdevil Limitless Blade Art demanded a great deal of his stamina, rendering him susceptible to defeat when facing a powerful opponent in a spar.
The recent battles in the Sky Cloud Forest had taught him the value of versatility. He had relied on his fists and raw strength, but against a true master or a demon beast with an impenetrable hide, he would need more.
He stopped mid-stride and turned on his heel, marching back toward the weapon pavilion. The elder who had sold him the bow looked up in surprise.
"Young master? Did you forget something?"
Long Huang's gaze swept over the weapons once more, this time settling on a long, slender sword resting on a blackwood stand. Its edge gleamed with a cold light, and its hilt was wrapped in dark serpent leather, exuding an aura of quiet lethality.
"That one."
The elder followed his gaze and nodded approvingly.
"Ah, a good choice, young master."
"This sword is the Frostbite Serpent Sword, forged from glacial iron and tempered with the venom of an Ice-fang Wyrm."
"A single cut slows the enemy's blood and freezes the wound, plus when infused with Qi, it produces an icy aura, making them sluggish in battle. It's a high-tier, profound grade weapon."
Long Huang reached out, gripping the hilt. The moment his fingers closed around it, a faint pulse of icy energy resonated through his meridians, as if the blade itself was testing him.
'Good. A weapon with a bit of spunk,' thought Long Huang.
"How much?"
The elder stroked his beard. "Two thousand gold notes."
Without hesitation, Long Huang produced the coins. The elder's eyebrows rose, but he said nothing, simply accepting the payment and handing over the sword in a lacquered scabbard.
With the Frostbite Serpent Sword now sheathed at his waist, Long Huang turned to leave, but then paused. He realized he had never done any formal training in swordplay; his combat skills had always been instinctive and brutal, with only a fist art.
"A weapon is only as good as the person who wields it."
"And good combat art brings out the best of both the weapon and the person."
Even though he trained in the Archdevil Limitless Blade Art, it was made for blades specifically, for dual blades. If he were to wield this sword properly, he needed a technique.
"So, to the Martial Pavilion," Long Huang said with a bit of excitement.
The Martial Pavilion stood at the heart of the sect, a grand structure where disciples could exchange combat arts and cultivation techniques.
Long Huang walked toward the desk, expecting the elder to rub his achievements in his face, but as he got closer, he found a young man sitting at the desk.
"Where's the elder?" Long Huang asked curiously.
"Out," responded the young man.
"What about Fu Heng?"
"Out too."
"Damn him too."
The attendant, a senior disciple with sharp eyes, glanced at him and said,
"Looking for something specific?"
"Sword arts,"
"Something lethal."
Long Huang replied.
The attendant smirked. "We have many. What's your preference? Swift strikes? Heavy slashes? Or something… more esoteric?"
Long Huang's fingers brushed the hilt of his new sword. "Something that can kill in one move."
The attendant's smirk widened. He reached beneath the counter and produced a jade slip, its surface etched with faint, glowing characters.
"The Phantom Fang Sword Art."
"A low-level black-grade combat art," the attendant explained. "It's swift as a viper's bite, leaving no room for counterattack. The downside? It consumes a great deal of Qi. One missed strike, and you're vulnerable."
"Qi, I'm only at the Body Tempering Realm senior."
"Oh, I thought you were in the Qi Converging Realm."
"You can still perform the first three moves of the sword art, but it won't be as lethal."
"Can I see it before I make my choice?"
" Sure, no problem."
Long Huang took the jade slip, his mind already envisioning the movements. Perfect.
"How many gold notes?"
"Three thousand."
Long Huang handed over the gold notes, and the attendant picked them up without another word.
As he left the Martial Pavilion, Long Huang could feel the weight of his new acquisitions: the bow for distance, the sword for close combat, and now, the technique to make that sword deadly. As he was finally heading home, a voice rang out.
"Look who crawled back from the dead, if it isn't the great Long Huang," a young man, seemingly 17 years old, emerged.
"I heard you went to the Archdevil Mountain Range."
"Did you hide in a hole all this time, or did some beast take pity on you?"
"Chi Wei told me you've changed a lot, but to me, you're still a weak, useless nobody with an even trashier Ordinary grade bloodline."
"But you've become quite the eye candy. I have some elderly women in my family who would love you," said the young man.
Long Huang didn't need to turn to know who it was: Lin Feng, a rival disciple who had always looked down on him, unlike Chi Wei, who had a valid reason for hating him, but Lin Feng didn't.
Lin Feng stood with his usual entourage, a smug grin on his face.
"Fuck do you ever shut up fuck?" said Long Huang as he was a bit irritated.
"What did you say? Repeat that," exclaimed Lin Feng. Ignoring him, Long Huang continued walking, but Lin Feng stepped into his path.
"Oh, what, no words? Or are you still shaken from nearly dying?"
Long Huang met his gaze, his voice calm but edged with warning.
"Move."
Lin Feng smirked and rolled his eyes. "Or what? You'll run away again?"
"I said.....move!"
Long Huang's body started to radiate a powerful killing intent that seemed to come to life. His emerald green eyes stared emotionlessly at Lin Feng as if he were already dead to him.
The surrounding disciples tensed, sensing the brewing conflict. Before things could escalate further, a sharp voice rang out.
"Enough!"
The senior from the Martial Pavilion strode forward with a stern expression.
"This is a place of cultivation, not childish squabbles. If you wish to fight, save it for the competition."
"Tsk, lucky."
Lin Feng scowled but backed off, shooting Long Huang a final glare.
"This isn't over."
"Oh my goodness, do you all have a 'How to Be a Villain' handbook or something?"
Long Huang said, clearly annoyed by people like Chi Wei and Lin Feng. He then turned and headed to his home.
As he headed home, he counted his money to see how much he was left with after his shopping spree.