Chapter 5
The dining hall was alive with noise.
Dozens of disciples sat in long rows of tables, the clatter of bowls and chopsticks echoing through the wide room. It was a simple yet spacious place, made of polished wood and stone, designed to hold the large number of outer disciples who called the Floating Cloud Sect home. The scent of freshly cooked rice, meat, and vegetables drifted through the air, mingling with laughter, chatter, and the occasional argument over portion sizes.
This was the outer dining hall, reserved specifically for outer disciples. Across the courtyard, separated by walls and gates, was the inner hall, where the inner disciples dined. The distinction was clear — not only in location but in atmosphere. The inner hall was quiet, refined, and elegant. The outer hall was loud, bustling, and a little chaotic.
Liam sat at one of the middle tables, his plate neatly arranged before him. His posture was relaxed, and a faint, content smile played on his lips as he ate. For a man who had climbed Mount Bao and risked his life to join one of the strongest sects in the region, he looked remarkably peaceful.
Beside him, however, peace was impossible.
"—And then! I almost hit that target from ten meters away! I swear, I was this close!"
Edmund's animated voice cut through the general noise of the hall as he waved his chopsticks dramatically, almost sending a piece of food flying.
Liam didn't even look up. "You missed, didn't you?"
Edmund coughed lightly, trying to hide his embarrassment. "Well, yes, but that's not the point! The point is I'm improving!"
"Mm." Liam took another bite, his expression remaining blissful. "Sure."
"You don't believe me, do you?"
"Not really."
Edmund sighed, but the smile never left his face. He continued to chatter endlessly, talking about training, sparring, and even his theory about how the inner disciples probably got better soup. Liam responded here and there, but his tone was always casual, his words short. Most of his attention was clearly on his meal.
He looked genuinely happy as he ate — like someone who had found the meaning of life in a bowl of rice.
To Liam, this simple peace was perfection.
A quiet meal, decent food, and no one trying to stab him — that was all he wanted.
What was Liam's goal in life? Why had he risked climbing Mount Bao, facing deadly winds and treacherous cliffs?
It wasn't for fame. It wasn't for glory. And it definitely wasn't to become some great hero who would "ascend the nine heavens" — if such a thing even existed. No, Liam's goal was simple: peace.
He wanted a peaceful, comfortable life. A small home, steady meals, and the freedom to nap whenever he pleased. But in this world, peace was a luxury that could only be afforded through power. Without strength, peace didn't last long. And to gain power safely, there was no better place than within a powerful sect's protection.
So, he had climbed Mount Bao and joined the Floating Cloud Sect, not to reach the heavens — but simply to live without constant trouble.
Unfortunately, life had other plans.
Even as he sat enjoying his food, he could already sense it — the subtle prickling of unwanted attention. He didn't need to look around to know what was happening. Several disciples from nearby tables had begun glancing toward him, their expressions filled with a mix of arrogance and irritation. A few of them whispered quietly to each other, their tones low but their gazes obvious.
Liam sighed internally. Ah, here we go again.
He didn't know their names, but he knew their type. There were always people who couldn't stand seeing someone quiet and unbothered. The fact that he had gained attention after his sparring sessions with Edmund — who was becoming something of a minor celebrity among the outer disciples — didn't help either. And though Liam had tried his best to keep a low profile, the rumors had apparently spread anyway.
Without reacting outwardly, Liam continued eating calmly. But under the table, he whispered softly, "Status."
A faint, translucent screen appeared before his eyes.
> [Host: Liam Osbert]
[CP: ∞]
[Skills: Basic Climbing (Perfect Mastery), Basic Archery (Perfect Mastery), Basic Sword Technique (Perfect Mastery)]
He took a brief glance, then mentally allocated a few comprehension points, boosting his sword technique from intermediate to perfect mastery. The glowing letters faded quietly from sight.
Preparation was everything.
If trouble was inevitable, he might as well be ready.
He chewed the last of his meal and sighed in quiet satisfaction. Peaceful meals might not last forever, but at least they could be enjoyed fully while they did.
Eventually, the dinner period ended. The hall began to empty out as disciples finished their food and drifted toward their dorms or training grounds. Liam stood up, stretching lightly. Edmund got up beside him, still talking about sword forms and battle posture with his usual enthusiasm.
As they walked toward the dorms, Edmund suddenly noticed Liam slowing down. He stopped mid-sentence. "Huh? What's wrong?"
Liam smiled faintly — a smile that carried both calmness and a hint of resignation. "Uh, I've got something I need to take care of. I'll be right back."
Edmund blinked. "Something to take care of?"
"Yeah," Liam said, scratching the back of his head with a dry laugh. "Just a small thing."
"Oh, okay," Edmund replied easily, completely unconcerned. "Don't take too long, the dorms get crowded this time!"
"I'll keep that in mind."
With that, Liam turned and walked off in the opposite direction, his robe swaying gently with each step. His pace was unhurried, his expression relaxed — but his eyes were sharp, quietly scanning the surroundings.
He passed through a few empty courtyards and eventually reached the area where the mortal attendants lived. It was quieter here, with simple wooden houses and fewer lights. The air felt still, the silence heavy.
Liam stopped walking and let out a slow, calm breath — then exhaled a small puff of turbid air, clearing his lungs.
That was when it happened.
His body tilted slightly to the side — just in time for a knife to slice through the air and pass inches from his face. His hand moved instinctively, drawing his sword from its scabbard with a clean, metallic shing. The blade struck the flying knife midair, sending it spinning harmlessly to the ground.
The faint clang echoed in the quiet night.
Almost immediately after, four figures stepped out from the shadows. They wore grey robes — the same color as Liam's own — marking them as outer disciples. Their expressions, however, were anything but friendly. Smirks, sneers, and cold eyes greeted him.
"Well," one of them said, cracking his knuckles. "You've been acting high and mighty lately, haven't you?"
Liam's eyes half-lidded in quiet irritation. He held his sword loosely at his side, his voice calm. "Ah, how did I end up in this situation… just by minding my own business?"
He sighed — a long, tired sigh that carried the weight of someone who only wanted to nap after dinner.
The four disciples grinned menacingly, stepping closer.
Liam adjusted his grip on the sword and muttered softly to himself, "Can't even digest my food in peace…