“You do? Good.” Zhen nodded, and pointed his finger towards a small hut that was tucked in the corner of the town.
The hut had a chimney with smoke billowing out of it, and the hut was mostly created by square-shaped rocks. It looked very durable.
“That’s where the blacksmith lives.” Zhen said and returned his gaze to the temple above the stairs.
“When you’ve finished your business with the Wisdom King, you should give him a visit.” He then glanced at the purple-eyed man.
If he hadn’t seen the newspaper, he wouldn’t have recognized him, at all. It was not only his appearance that had changed; his whole vibe was completely different.
He left the Honorable Temple as a boy but returned as a man.
“Aight.” Ambrose nodded and started thinking about what kind of sword he wanted while walking up the long flight of stairs.
‘I wonder if 10 pieces of crimson metal are enough for two swords.’
After the walk came to end, they arrived at the final step of the flight of stairs, and entered the temple.
There were bald-headed disciples prostrating in the yard, chanting towards the golden statue with fervent-looking gazes.
Smack, smack—a distance away, two bald-headed Honorables were fighting with training swords.
As they moved across the training ground, they looked as if they weighed less than a feather, as their steps seemed very light.
It almost looked like they also used Formlessness, but there wasn’t the same kind of fluidity as with Ambrose’s movements.
The Honorable’s movements looked like they had a reason for every step; a meaning and strategy behind their strikes.
Ambrose’s movements were random and completely based on instinct. It didn’t look like he thought a second longer about what he had to do.
That was the principle of Formlessness.
He, of course, still didn’t fight without thinking. He thought a lot, but with Formlessness, he couldn’t as well as he moved too fast even for his own liking.
He never wanted to focus his swordsmanship on randomness and quickness. Therefore, he had another reason for visiting the Wisdom King.
Perhaps he could finally finish creating his style’s foundation.
The Formlessness was an incredibly valuable skill to have, and Ambrose was never going to stop using it. However, he wanted to learn to use it the other way—the way of the Immortal Style.
The bald-headed Honorable walked over to the temple’s heavy-looking doors and pushed them open. It swung open slowly, and opened the view to the temple’s altar.
At this moment, several Honorables were bowing underneath a smaller statue, resembling the golden statue that stood outside. They were chanting something under their breath.
A thin, pale-faced man sat cross-legged in front of the smaller statue. He then opened his aged eyes and stood up while his old bones creaked.
As he turned around, he watched as three figures entered the temple.
The bald-headed Honorable bowed respectfully, and joined other honorables in praying and chanting towards the small statue.
Zhen smashed his fist against his open palm and bowed respectfully. His long, stretching earlobes still had the earrings that made him look like a hooligan.
Ambrose smashed his fist against his open palm and bowed. “Master.”
“Honorable Ambrose.” The Wisdom King showed an elderly smile, and motioned for both of them to follow after him.
They headed to the second floor, where they entered the balcony, and sat down at a circular table. They could see the entire town and the nearby valley from the balcony.
“I honestly didn’t expect to see you so soon.” The Wisdom King chuckled and looked out of the door towards a clean-shaved servant.
The servant wasn’t a disciple of his or Honorable, but a young man from the town. His parents died by mountain lion attack when he was still a young, but he was adopted by other family.
After hearing about his past, the Wisdom King hired him to be his personal servant. It would allow him to earn some silver while also learning about his martial arts.
The Wisdom King motioned for the young man to bring him his tea pot.
The clean-shaven young man bowed, brought the tea pot, and poured them all a drink. He then left with a bow and stood outside the balcony.
“I have heard about your deeds from the newspaper.” The Wisdom King chuckled and looked into his disciple’s purple eyes. “The Black Demon who terrorized Hightown. Then went to Dark Waters to become a red-ranked outlaw.”
“The newspaper isn’t the most credible source, that’s for sure.” Ambrose chuckled and took a sip of the tea.
“Of course they aren’t.” The Wisdom King laughed and said, “They are half-controlled by Inquisitors, after all. They can choose whatever they want to add to the paper.”
“They’ve been spreading some false rumors about me; what’s up with that?” Ambrose asked. “The lie about me being Reinhardt’s disciple. That rumor came alongside the accusation that I was somehow involved with Hightown’s attack.”
“It put a bigger target on your back.” The Wisdom King said. “Inquisitors aren’t fools. They are devious, and they have used these tricks before.
“Reinhardt had a lot of enemies, not only the other wanted people but also bounty hunters.” He said, took a sip of the tea, and continued.
“With this rumor, they created hundreds of new enemies for you. The Inquisitors want to find you, as it’s a hefty paycheck if they capture you.
“However, they also want to use others to either find you or kill you. If you end up in a fight with one of them, trust me, the Red Inquisitors will find out, and they’ll stay on that track like hunting dogs; never let go.
“However, even if they don’t find you, they are more than pleased if you die to one of Reinhardt’s enemies. They are wealthy enough to miss out on your bounty reward.
“If the plan succeeds and you die because of their scheming, their reputation among Black Inquisitors will rise. Black Inquisitors value scheming and powerful Inquisitors.
“Therefore, most Red Inquisitors only value promotion at this point. They have more money than they could spend, and now they just want more power.”
“I see.” Ambrose sighed and said, “I killed one Red Inquisitor a while back.”
“Pfft!” Zhen spat out the tea, accidentally splattering the tea across the Wisdom King’s face.
His eyes widened in shock. “G-grandmaster, I am sorry!”
“Ngh…” The Wisdom King looked blankly ahead.
“Master!” The clean-shaven servant came with the napkin and wiped his drenched face.
The Wisdom King massaged his temples and asked. “You did what now?”
“I killed a Red Inquisitor.” Ambrose sighed and scratched the back of his head. “I had no other choice, unfortunately.”
“I see…” The Wisdom King caressed his chin and chuckled before erupting into laughter. “Hahahahaha!”
“G-grandmaster?” Zhen had never seen the Wisdom King laugh this hard, and he wondered whether he had accidentally gone mad because he spat the tea onto his face.action
“Good, good!” The Wisdom King slammed his hand on the table, and grinned ear-to-ear. “You’ve grown stronger!”
“Thank you, master.” Ambrose bowed with a smile.
lightsnοvεl “Still, you’ve got a long way to go before you can oppose the Blackies.” The Wisdom King took a deep breath as he again felt his scars tingle in pain.
The pale-skinned face with white eyes and long, flowy white hair flashed through his mind.
‘Matchitehew!’
“By the way, why’ve you come here?” He asked curiously.
“For multiple reasons.” Ambrose raised four fingers. “First, learn soul healing. Second, I want to create more skills, and third, lay the foundation for my Immortal Style!
“I also want to have new swords from the blacksmith of the town. I have required material for it.”
“I see.” The Wisdom King nodded. “That can be arranged.”