Rose had been staring blankly this whole time.
Her thoughts were in chaos...
She didn't know why they had lost so easily,
where they had disappeared to, or who this little boy was.
She had just seen him—with his white wig—go to his backpack and emerge a moment later, this time as the commander.
She couldn't stop herself anymore and blurted,
"Wh-who are you, young hero?"
The little boy replied,
"I'm Mortal, but I like to be called by my Daoist name."
He didn't say anything after that, instead looking at her as if waiting for her to ask what his Daoist name was.
So she asked,
"What's your Daoist name, young hero?"
The little boy proudly declared,
"Sect Master."
Rose was shocked at first but forced a smile and said,
"Thank you for saving me, Sect Master."
Little Sect Master nodded. "You're welcome."
Then he looked at the ground, placed one hand on his ear, and said,
"Agent Morty Meven, we are done here. Do you copy? Over."
Now with one hand on his mouth,
"Shhh, copy that, Commander. There's an old lady in red coming toward your location. Should I intercept her? Over."
Little Mortal glanced at Rose, as if waiting for her to confirm whether the other party was an enemy or not.
Rose hurriedly said,
"That's my grandmother! No need to intercept, no need to intercept!"
She didn't want her to get knocked out cold like those two and disappear by accident!
Little Mortal put one hand on his ear and said,
"No need to intercept, Agent Morty Meven. I repeat, no need to intercept. Over."
"Shhh, copy that. I'll leave my position and join you on the way to headquarters. Over."
"Copy that. See you on the way. Over."
Then he looked at his backpack and said,
"Big Guy, it's time to clean up."
The next moment, the two empty chairs with ropes and the wooden tribune turned into light and vanished inside the backpack.
He looked at Rose, who was watching silently, and said,
"Your relatives are coming after you, so I'm leaving. Bye-bye."
He waved at her, hoisted the big backpack onto his shoulders, and with a whistle, a tricycle appeared in front of him.
Rose, seeing him about to leave, hurriedly called out,
"Sect Master, wait! You saved my life, so if you want anything, please tell me. I'll do my best to do it for you!"
Little Mortal turned around and, after a brief silence, said,
"I'm looking for a good assistant to help me manage my future followers. But my assistant needs to have a strong background, a good reputation, and be a normal person.
I don't like those savage, uncultured cultivators with lots of blood on their hands."
Hearing him, Rose's eyes lit up.
"Sect Master, I can be your assistant!
Both my parents are sect masters, so I can help you a lot using their reputation!
And I've never killed anyone!"
Little Mortal was shocked.
"Both of them are sect masters?"
"Yes!"
Little Mortal pointed at her without hesitation and declared,
"You, young lady, are hired!
Big Guy, give an 'assistant token' to our new member!"
Before Rose could react, a white token dropped into her hand.
"Okay, at the moment, I'm working undercover, so we can't move around together.
When I find my followers, I'll contact you to join the team. So don't tell anybody about this for now."
Then he sat on his tricycle and said to her while riding away,
"If fate allows, let's meet again, Assistant Rose."
His words were like clear water, washing away Rose's chaotic thoughts.
The little boy wasn't scary at all in her eyes anymore.
A genuine smile appeared on her face.
"Yes, Sect Master. If fate allows, let's meet again!"
When she saw him riding his tricycle in the opposite direction of the river's flow, Rose's eyes grew a little watery.
These past two days of running and hiding had been so hard on her, but now, with this good ending, she felt relieved.
When she wiped her tears and looked again, she saw the back view of a young hero—no, wait—the back view of a big backpack disappearing toward the sunset...
As though suddenly remembering something, she yelled,
"Wait! You forgot one of your chairs!"
But Little Sect Master didn't hear her—or didn't care.
He was listening to music, riding further and further away...
While Rose stared at the chair she had been sitting on, a red light descended from the sky, and an old lady in the same red dress as her appeared beside her.
"Little Rose, I finally found you! Are you hurt?"
Seeing her grandmother, Rose relaxed.
"Grandma, I'm fine. What about you guys?"
"Your father is fine, but when your mother couldn't find you, she got so mad that she attacked the Sword Sect!"
Rose was dumbfounded.
"Why would she do that?"
"Because you were kidnapped from there, and your father couldn't save you. Your mother is blaming him for it.
Not only that, in the message your father sent me, he told me there's still another one of these Masked Men in his sect stopping him from coming after you..."
Without waiting for her to say anything else, she picked Rose up, and the two flew away toward the Sword Sect.
On the riverside, only one silver chair remained.
One day, this chair could become a legend in its own right... or maybe there was a reason it was left behind...
...
A while later,
Rose and her grandmother finally arrived at the Sword Sect.
On the way there, Rose told her grandmother what had happened.
She learned that her grandchild had been stolen from the Sword Sect by three masked men.
One of them stopped her father, while the other two took her away.
On the road, her mother intercepted them, and Rose found an opportunity to use her father's treasured sword to escape. She chose to flee toward the Forbidden Jungle—a decision that could have been the best or worst choice for her.
Her gamble paid off. Even after two days of wandering and hiding in the Forbidden Jungle, she didn't face any danger she couldn't handle.
Up to this point, the story was understandable. But when she reached the part where a little monster joined the tale, her grandmother grew more and more confused, thinking to herself:
'The trees part willingly for the Hero?
And he knocked out two cultivators as powerful as her father? Then Agent Morty Meven and Judge Bredd joined that little monster to uphold justice?
Intelligence treasures?'
Rose's grandmother was at a loss.
'Did someone put her under an illusion?
And what's the deal with the unbreakable silver chairs?
I saw one when I found her, but I didn't think it was anything special.
Yet she claims those two kidnappers couldn't move them?
Maybe I'll take a look later…'
Then she said to Rose,
"Anyway, let's see what the situation is there. It seems your mother has calmed down..."
...
Meanwhile...
At the Sword Sect, high in the sky, three people stood in confrontation.
On one side, a masked man in a black robe.
On the opposite side, a man and a woman.
It was midday, but the sky was dark—not from clouds, but from snow.
And not ordinary snow. What filled the sky was all the snow from the mountains of the Demoness Sect…
This was one of the ultimate techniques of the Snow Goddess. She could gather all the snow from her sect's mountains and bring it into battle—a terrifying sight for her enemies.
The only reason she hadn't attacked the man before her was her daughter.
The masked man glanced at the sky and spoke,
"Snow Goddess, sooner or later, my two companions will catch her. Let's discuss what you two must do to keep her safe."
His voice carried a hint of anxiety. Two days had passed with no word from his allies, and now he was trapped beneath an avalanche of snow, ready to bury him…
The Snow Goddess—a cold-looking woman with white hair and white eyes—remained silent, staring at him.
To her right stood a nervous black-haired man with a dignified air: the Sword Sect's master, the current Sword God.
The masked man had threatened them both, warning that if they left and his companions spotted them, they would kill their daughter.
These masked men in black were far from weak—perhaps even stronger than the couple. But something about them seemed off, as if they were under some restriction.
The only thing the Sword God could do was send a secret message to his mother, Rose's grandmother, and beg for her help.
He didn't know if it would endanger her, too, but there was no other choice.
Time passed minute by minute until all three of them suddenly looked in the same direction.
An old lady and a young girl appeared on the horizon.
The masked man reacted first.
He turned to flee!
'Damn it, they couldn't even catch a mortal?'
But how could the Snow Goddess, who had been preparing for two days, let him escape?
She waved her hand, and all the gathered snow in the sky swirled around the masked man like a hurricane.
At the same time, the clang of metal striking metal joined the chaos of the snowstorm.
The Sword God, finally relieved, was now furious!
Because of these strangers, his sect was about to be buried under snow—and he knew his enraged wife wouldn't stop there.
The masked man struggled with all his might, but it felt as if a third party was aiding the couple.
In the end, he roared at the sky:
"Why are you stopping us?
Aren't we supposed to collaborate?"
Who he was speaking to remained unknown, but the confusion in his voice was evident.
Regardless, after a final struggle, he was buried under the snow and sealed by the combined power of the couple's snow and sword aura.
The Sword God and Snow Goddess ignored the masked man's words and rushed to their daughter.
After their emotional reunion, the Snow Goddess—who had already renamed the Sword Sect the "Snow Sect"—found time to teach her husband a lesson and vent her anger.
She uprooted his statue from the sect's gate and took it with her, declaring:
"You're only fit to guard my sect's entrance, not protect our daughter.
Don't come back until you find out who these people are!"
Then she took her daughter and left.
Only a helpless husband remained, left to deal with the mess she'd made for him.
The Sword God muttered to himself,
"At least leave my mother behind..."
But Rose's grandmother had been taken away too by the furious Snow Goddess.
That same day, at the entrance of the Demoness Sect, everyone witnessed a grand and magnificent statue of the Sword God placed at the sect's gate, welcoming guests and disciples alike.
....
Elsewhere...
Below the mountain path leading to the Sword Sect and Demoness Sect, a tricycle came to a stop.
Little Mortal, on his second day on this planet, checked the address in his hands.
After verifying it twice more—and confirming that the snowy mountains of the Demoness Sect were a place he shouldn't go—he noticed the large statue of a dignified-looking swordsman at the entrance to the snowless path. He nodded to himself.
"Alright, that good-looking guy must be my future teacher—Fourth Brother's disciple."
He put his tricycle away and began walking toward the Sword Sect, planning to become the Sword God's disciple and use his influence to gather followers.
Along the way, he spotted an evil-looking young man standing arrogantly on a sword, flying in the same direction.
But Little Mortal didn't care about his appearance—what caught his eye was the young man's robe!
He immediately threw his backpack to the ground and started kicking and punching it excitedly, shouting,
"Look, Big Guy, look! See how cool our sect's robe is? Hurry up and make one like that for me too! Hurry, hurry!"
The helpless backpack shivered slightly, and a black robe with red patterns—identical to the young man's—dropped into Little Mortal's hands.
The boy excitedly jumped inside the backpack to change into the new robe… but once he put it on and jumped out, he froze.
"Why did you make it the same size as his? Are you stupid? I said like his, not his size! I'll beat you up!"
A one-sided battle ensued between the furious boy and the miserable backpack, which had tried (and failed) to be funny. The outcome was predictable.
After some time, Little Mortal—still stuck with oversized clothes and rolled-up sleeves—returned to the road barefoot.
The shoes were also too big, and since he couldn't fix them like the robe, he angrily stuffed them into his backpack and continued his journey while gritting his teeth.
At the Sect Gate...
Some distance ahead, a group moved in the same direction.
At the front was a young man in a simple brown robe, around 25 years old, followed by a group of children aged 7 to 10.
As they walked, he explained the sect's rules:
"Listen carefully. When we arrive at the gate, don't speak. I'll inform the senior brother there about your enrollment.
Then, we'll meet Elder Sun for your aptitude tests. Remember to behave well!
And always remember, If you want to survive here, you should pay attention to two groups of sect members, and never disrespect them.
If they give an order, obey—no matter what. If they tell you to die, you die. If you disobey, not only will your fate be tragic, but your family's will be worse."
The children paled. One asked nervously,
"W-Which two groups, Senior Brother?"
"The first is the sect elders. They wear brown robes like mine, but with an added black pattern. They're reasonable… unless the issue involves the second group. Cross them, and the elders will side against you—even if you're right."
"And who's the second group?"
"The survivors of the Demonic-Righteous Sect War. The entire sect spoils them absurdly."
"H-How do we recognize them?"
"By their robes—black with intricate red patterns, even grander than the elders'. They'll look at you like you owe them money. If you see one, run. Can't run? Pretend you didn't see them. If they've already noticed you… pray for mercy."
"W-Why are they so lawless?"
"Because their families sacrificed themselves for the world. You can tell their losses by their accessories: a black headband means a lost father, a right wristband means a mother, and a left wristband means siblings."
A trembling girl whispered,
"W-What if they have all three?"
The senior brother scoffed.
"Don't be ridiculous. In my 15 years here, I've never seen—"
The girl pointed behind them.
"Then… what about him?"
The senior brother's eye twitched as he turned.
At the back of the group, a three-year-old boy—with a giant backpack, in a black robe with red patterns, a black headband, and two wristbands—had silently joined them.
After a pause, the senior brother said flatly,
"I don't see anyone. Neither do you."
And thought,
'Consider this your first lesson.'
Silence fell.
The group marched forward nervously, pretending not to notice their unwelcome companion.
And to their surprise, the senior brother's guidance worked, and the other party just followed them silently!
After a while, they finally arrived.
At the sect gate, two disciples were playing a chess-like game.
When the group approached, the male gatekeeper waved them off.
"Form a line and wait. We'll finish our game first."
The senior brother coughed pointedly.
The gatekeeper snapped, "Are you deaf? I said wait—" Then he noticed the group pointing at something behind them sneakily.
He and his companion leaned sideways—and their faces drained of color the moment they saw the Black robe little boy at the end of the line.
The girl shot up.
"Fellow Daoist, this game has been enlightening, but I must seclude myself. Farewell!"
The gatekeeper watched her flee, then took a steadying breath.
What she did was the first reaction they should have upon bumping into one of these black robes.
But he was the gatekeeper, and he couldn't pretend not to see him.
Approaching the boy, he forced a smile.
"How may I help you, Junior Brother?"
Little Mortal frowned,
"I'm not your junior brother, and address me by my Daoist name: Sect Master."
The gatekeeper's eye twitched,
'Fine. You're the Sect Master. Hell, you're my ancestor if it gets rid of you.'
"How may I help you, Sect Master?"
Little Mortal rolled his eyes,
"I'm at the back of the line. It's not my turn yet. Is this your first day as gatekeeper?
Take care of the rest first."
Gritting his teeth, the gatekeeper said,
"Your time is precious, Sect Master. They can wait."
"Do I look like some uncivilized cultivator who breaks the line?
I'll wait for my turn."
The gatekeeper felt helpless...
"...You're most considerate, Sect Master.
I'll be fast then!"
And rushed through the children's processing.
"Seven newcomers confirmed. Proceed to Elder Sun for testing."
The group scurried away—leaving only the gatekeeper and… well, just him.
To his surprise, the "Sect Master" merely nodded approvingly and strolled inside.
Unbeknownst to him, the little boy had overheard "Elder Sun" and decided an elder could expedite his meeting with the Sword God faster than a gatekeeper.
The gatekeeper sighed in relief,
"I avoided a possible disaster. May the others be as lucky…"