Hot water.
It turned pink as it swirled down the drain. Then red. Then muddy brown.
Kaelen stood in the bathhouse. Scrubbing layers of filth from his skin. The scars from years of abuse were fading. Smoothed over by his cultivation. But the memory of them remained.
He looked in the bronze mirror.
The boy staring back was handsome. Sharp jawline. Raven hair. But the eyes—they were ancient.
"System," Kaelen wiped the steam from the glass. "Current status."
> **[Status]**
> **Cultivation:** Body Refining Stage 5 (Early).
> **Strength:** 45 (Average Adult: 10)
> **Agility:** 50
> **Defense:** 30
> **Technique:** Heaven-Devouring Scripture.
"Stage 5," Kaelen muttered. "Enough to bully the weak. Not enough to survive the world."
He dried off. He donned a fresh set of black robes embroidered with the silver Vane crest.
They fit perfectly.
He looked like a Young Master. He felt like a shark in a silk suit.
He left the bathhouse. He headed for the East Wing.
The Family Treasury.
It was a fortress within a fortress. Stone walls three feet thick. Reinforced with runic arrays.
Sitting at a desk in front of the heavy iron door was an old man.
Elder Han.
He was withered. Skin like parchment. Eyes like a vulture. He was reading a ledger. Counting coins.
Kaelen's footsteps echoed on the stone.
Han didn't look up.
"Servants are prohibited from this area. Leave before I cut off your tongue."
Kaelen stopped at the desk.
"I'm not a servant."
Han paused. He looked up slowly over his spectacles. When he saw Kaelen, his lip curled in disgust.
"Ah. The cripple. I heard you crawled out of the mud." Han went back to his ledger. "Get lost, boy. The Treasury is for cultivators. Not waste."
Kaelen placed his hand on the desk.
"Patriarch's orders. Any disciple Stage 4 or higher has access."
Han snorted. "And? You are Stage Nothing."
"Check."
Han sighed. Annoyed. "Fine. I'll check your meridians. Then I'll break your hand for wasting my time."
The Elder reached out. He grabbed Kaelen's wrist. He sent a pulse of Qi into Kaelen's body. Expecting to hit a wall.
Instead, his Qi was swallowed.
It vanished into an abyss.
Han's eyes went wide. He felt the density of Kaelen's muscles. The hum of power in his blood.
"Stage... Stage 5?" Han stammered. He pulled his hand back as if burned. "How? You were a cripple yesterday!"
"Miracles happen," Kaelen said coldly. "Open the door."
Han hesitated. He hated Kaelen. He had bet money on Kaelen's death. But the rules were absolute.
Grumbling, Han pulled a heavy iron key from his robe.
*Clank. Clank. Creeeeak.*
The iron door swung open.
"You have ten minutes," Han spat. "Take one item. If you try to steal a second, the array will incinerate you."
Kaelen walked in.
The room glittered.
Rows of weapons racks. Shelves of pill bottles. Chests of gold.
To a normal person, it was paradise.
To Kaelen, it was a junkyard.
"Trash," he muttered, passing a rack of steel swords. "Too light."
"Garbage," he said, glancing at a bottle of 'Spirit Gathering Pills'. "Too many impurities."
He walked deeper. The air grew stale. Dust coated the shelves here.
He didn't want a shiny weapon. He wanted something that could handle his brutality.
"System. Scan for anomalies."
> **[Scanning...]**
> **[Target Detected: Northeast Corner. Debris Pile.]**
Kaelen walked to the corner.
It was a pile of broken equipment. Cracked shields. Rusted spears.
Sticking out of the pile was a handle.
It was wrapped in rotting leather. The crossguard was simple, black iron. No gems. No gold.
Kaelen grabbed the handle.
He pulled.
*SCRAPE.*
Metal ground against stone.
It was heavy. Unreasonably heavy.
He lifted it.
It wasn't a sword. It was a slab of black iron. Sharpened on one side. It was four feet long. Thick as a brick. Rusted. Pitted. Ugly.
> **[Item Analysis]**
> **Name:** The Nameless Slab.
> **Grade:** Unknown (Sealed).
> **Material:** Star-Metal Alloy.
> **Weight:** 400 lbs.
> **Effect:** Conducts Qi with 0% resistance.
"Perfect," Kaelen grinned.
Normal weapons broke when you pumped too much Qi into them. This? This was a dense block of metal. It wouldn't break. It would just crush.
He swung it.
*WHOOSH.*
The air screamed with a low, heavy bass sound.
He walked back to the entrance. Dragging the sword behind him. Sparks flew as the tip scraped the stone.
Elder Han looked up. When he saw the rusted hunk of metal, he burst out laughing.
"That?" Han wheezed. "You picked *that*? That's scrap metal! It's been sitting there for fifty years because it's too heavy to swing!"
Han shook his head. Wiping a tear from his eye. "A trash weapon for a trash master. Fitting."
Kaelen stopped.
He lifted the 400lb sword with one hand. Pointing the rusted tip at Han's throat.
The laughter died in Han's throat.
The sheer ease of the lift terrified him.
"It's not for cutting," Kaelen whispered.
"It's for smashing insects."
Kaelen sheathed the massive blade on his back. The leather strap strained.
He walked out into the sunlight.
He had the body. He had the weapon.
Now, he needed the money.
> **[Quest Update]**
> **Objective:** Prepare for the City Tournament.
> **Recommendation:** Visit the Alchemy Guild.
> **Current Wealth:** 50 Spirit Stones. (Poverty Level).
Kaelen sighed.
"Time to rob someone."