"An excellent soul master must always remember—"
"Gulp, gulp, gulp… ha!"
Inside the rattling luxury carriage, Qin Ming's solemn lecture was drowned out by heavy drinking sounds. Unlike the spacious classroom, the enclosed coach made every swallow resound loudly—and unbearably.
Qin Ming regretted everything. Why did he agree to bring this devil along? When they left the academy earlier, teachers and students had lined up at the gates to send them off. Their eyes had been filled with… what was that? Gratitude? Relief? Sympathy?
Teacher Qin Ming, thank heavens it's you!
The memory chilled him all over again.
In the corner of the carriage, Lucien lounged comfortably. His left arm held Ye Lingling, his right draped around Dugu Yan, a wine jar never far from his lips. He paid no attention to Qin Ming at all.
But at least, Qin Ming thought grimly, they were safe.
"Next, we'll be passing into the Star Luo Empire's territory. Our first stop is—"
"Gulp, gulp, gulp…"
[Ding! Host's condition is stable. Right Arm Soul Bone age +30 years.]
"Good wine!" Lucien exclaimed, grinning.
Indeed, the royal tribute wine was truly potent. In just a few short days, the soul bone "little Xuexue" had given him had increased by over a hundred years. Not bad.
Strange though—when Xue Qinghe handed him that soul bone, her expression had carried an odd flicker of fear. He barely remembered the night itself, only that he had woken in bed the next morning.
No point thinking about it. He took another long drink.
"Gulp, gulp…"
The next day passed unusually quietly. Too quietly.
Qin Ming could barely relax. His nerves screamed tension. From time to time, he peeked at Lucien—who simply sat sipping wine, humming softly, showing no signs of mischief.
The calm before the storm… Qin Ming shivered.
Lucien, meanwhile, opened his system's panel idly:
[Name: Lucien]
[Level: 49]
[Martial Soul: ??]
[Spirit Rings: Purple (2100), Purple (3200), Purple (5130), Black (18250)]
[Soul Skills]
Surge – +70% to all attributes.
Broken Air Slash – Quick-draw strike, unleashing nine devastating arcs.
Sword Array – Creates a deadly formation, confining enemies while bombarding with countless blades.
Sword·Will – Burns sword intent briefly, massively increasing attack.
[Soul Bones]
Left Arm: Dark Evil Phoenix Bone (48,600 years) – Skill: Dark Fire – infuses Sword Qi with searing black flame.
Right Arm: Blazing Force Bone (31,050 years) – Skill: Earth Slash – generates a condensed Soul Power Sword for devastating forward slashes.
Note: Bonuses increase with Drunken State
Lucien barely glanced at it. Dead numbers meant nothing. Actual fighting was the only measure of strength.
Even as a forty-ninth rank Soul Sect, once drunk—and once his "Surge" and "Sword·Will" were unleashed—he could cut down rank-60 Soul Emperors like they were vegetables.
The only thing he didn't fully understand yet was Sword Intent. The system never explained it. He only knew that when alcohol overflowed in his body, it somehow transformed into sword intent. Powerful—but fleeting. At the moment, it lasted only three seconds, but in that span his attack power soared terrifyingly.
…
That night.
"Ugh, nature calls…"
Lucien blinked, sliding out from between the two sleeping girls. Gently, he pushed Ye Lingling aside and freed the arm Dugu Yan had been resting on. His limbs were stiff from the cramped carriage.
He staggered outside, found a concealed spot in the forest—and right as he was about to relieve himself…
"Huh?"
From the bushes ahead, a figure emerged.
A black-clad girl stepped forward, her curves proud beneath the tight clothes, her eyes cold and sharp.
Lucien froze for a beat, then grinned crookedly. "Miss, that stealth was superb! You peeped me first, eh?"
"…I didn't see anything." The girl's voice was icy, dismissive.
"Ha! Pretty lady, care for a drink?" Lucien took a long slurp. "Gulp, gulp… ahhh!"
He stumbled toward her, sending her two steps back in alarm.
"Injured," Lucien noted suddenly, spotting blood trickling down her arm. His gaze darkened. "Which bastard dared harm my beautiful girl?"
Swish—
A sudden hiss of air behind them—arrows, tearing through the night.
The black-clad girl spun, moving to dodge, but Lucien was faster. Despite his drunken sway, his form blurred—a streak of motion too fast to see.
Arrows shattered as Sword Qi flashed, slashing into the trees. Dark shadows fell one after another—hidden assassins dropping from the branches like broken dolls.
"Gulp… gulp… ha!" Lucien wiped his mouth with satisfaction. "You bastards, bullying such a pretty little sister. Unforgivable."
The girl's breathing caught. How could someone half-staggering, drunk out of his mind, move so fast? He'd looked unable to stand—and now he had slain an entire ambush in seconds.
She eyed him silently, awe behind the frost.
Another voice broke the night.
"Zhuqing, I didn't expect you had a helper."
Another woman appeared—a taller figure, voluptuous, striding with arrogance. Behind her came more killers clad in black.
Lucien tilted his head. "Heeeh? And this beauty… doesn't look like she came here to drink with me."
Zhu Zhuyun sneered—but the words died in her throat the moment Lucien's feet glowed.
One… two… three purple rings. One black.
Her face drained pale.
Three purples and a black—for a mere soul sect?!
The oppressive Sword Qi around him made her knees almost buckle. Just looking at him stirred primal fear.
"Nope," she muttered quickly. "Not worth it."
She couldn't afford needless deaths—not against a monster that broke cultivation laws themselves.
"Smelly girl," Zhu Zhuyun spat finally, directing her glare at Zhu Zhuqing before retreating. "We'll settle this another day."
Her group melted into the shadows, gone as swiftly as they had come.
…
Zhu Zhuqing stood rooted, speechless.
A child—yet already holding spirit rings of such impossible grades. His presence, his terrifying strength—
Her frosty mask cracked, ever so slightly. "…"
Lucien yawned, then stepped toward her with a lazy grin. He held out a wine jar.
"Kitty, drink. It'll take the pain away."
Zhu Zhuqing's sharp eyes darted between him and the jar. Suspicion warred with exhaustion. But finally… she reached out.
"…Thank you." Her tone was still cool.
Instead of drinking, she tilted the jar and poured fiery liquor over the bleeding wound on her shoulder. The burn made her body tremble, but it cleansed the cut.
Relief washed over her, and tension unraveled. Darkness tugged at her eyes.
Her body gave out, swaying, collapsing—
Only to be caught in Lucien's arms.
He laughed softly, gazing at her sleeping face. "Another beautiful girl. Lucky me."
With ease, he swept her up.
"Better hold her tight."