Chapter 148: Final Debts
After leaving Su Minghe's residence, Su Tianhao didn't return to Fei Wu Quarter. It was no longer home. Whatever few belongings he had were already stored in his spatial ring. There was nothing left to retrieve.
With quiet resolve, he walked toward the estate's main exit, each step steady and unhurried. His face was calm, untouched by sentiment—as though the weight of the past had already been set down somewhere behind him.
It felt like riding a galloping horse—watching the landscape blur and fade, everything once familiar now distant and irrelevant.
He didn't look back. There was no need.
Soon, he arrived at the main gates. His eyes lit up at the sight of the guards stationed there.
"Second Young Master!"
The greeting came in unison, warm as usual.
'These guys,' Su Tianhao thought, a genuine smile finding his lips. He had no formal relationship with them—but they were among the people he appreciated most within the Su family. Through his darkest days, their loyalty had never wavered.
'Looks like today is the day for their reward.'
He approached them.
"How are you all doing?" he asked, the warmth in his voice unguarded.
"All good," one said. The rest nodded.
"Where to, Young Master?" another asked, concern and curiosity mixing in his voice.
"Somewhere far," Su Tianhao said, his smile turning faintly mysterious.
The guards exchanged glances—visibly startled, but too respectful to press. Su Tianhao turned to them, warmth steady in his eyes.
"Before I leave, I have something for you."
The golden ring gleamed—and then spirit stones began appearing in the air, falling one after another onto the earth like stars dropping from the sky.
"Spirit stones!" the guards gasped, their breath catching.
Without hesitation, they moved to shield him, closing in instinctively, afraid others nearby might take notice.
As the saying goes—wealth draws eyes like blood draws beasts.
It was several minutes before the flow stopped. By then, a small hill of crystalline stones had accumulated on the ground before them.
"Four hundred spirit stones," Su Tianhao said. "Share them equally."
The guards looked at one another in stunned silence. Four guards. One hundred each.
"Is this real?" one finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Tell me I'm not dreaming," said another, trembling.
The one who seemed to be their leader stepped forward and pinched the trembling guard's arm without ceremony.
"Ouch!"
"You're not dreaming," the leader said flatly.
He turned to Su Tianhao. "Are you certain about this, Young Master?"
The others looked up with the same question in their eyes.
"You can have them," Su Tianhao said quietly. "You've earned it. What you do with them is your own choice—stay with the family, or build something outside of it. Either way, the decision is yours."
"Young Master..."
The word left their lips softly, heavy with something that didn't need explaining. They glanced at each other, a silent understanding passing between them. Then, without a word, all four dropped to their knees, hands pressed to the ground.
"Thank you, Young Master. For everything."
Su Tianhao's chest tightened with warmth he hadn't expected.
"Stand up," he said. "And call me Tianhao from now on."
"We wouldn't dare," they said in unison.
The leader rose first, his expression shifting into something more careful. "Young Master—you said somewhere far. And now this."
He paused. "Are you leaving the Su family?"
Su Tianhao nodded.
"Then let us come with you," the leader said without hesitation, his voice sharp and certain.
"No."
The word landed quiet but firm.
"Everyone has their own path," Su Tianhao said. "I walk mine alone. Find yours."
His words settled over them like the toll of a distant bell—steady, final, and leaving no room for argument.
"We understand," they said, the weight of it clear in their voices.
Su Tianhao smiled. "Goodbye."
He turned and walked away, his silhouette growing smaller in the distance until the gate swallowed the view entirely.
With everything settled in the Su family, one stop remained before he could leave Oakwood City behind.
Master Huan's forge.
---
The marketplace moved with its usual energy—vendors calling out, coins exchanging hands, the smell of cooked food and fresh cut wood mixing in the air. Su Tianhao moved through it all without pause, arriving before a familiar structure lined with an impressive display of weapons that caught the midday light.
Outside the forge, a broad-shouldered figure was bent over his work, hammer striking in steady rhythm.
Master Huan.
Su Tianhao waited, standing quietly until the work was finished. The result was a fine sword—clean lines, impressive edge, quality that placed it comfortably at the high-grade level of the Mortal Rank. Outstanding even for its tier.
"You've been making progress," Su Tianhao said as he stepped forward.
"Young Master!"
Master Huan looked up, exhausted and sweat-soaked.
"It's good to see you," he said, the warmth in his voice unmistakable.
"You too, Master Huan. Your dedication is admirable."
"Don't flatter me," Master Huan said with a broad smile, his exhaustion vanishing completely. "In just a few months, without the Su family's resources or backing, you've become the strongest of Oakwood City's youngest generation. Who else can claim that?"
"Titles mean nothing," Su Tianhao said. "Only strength truly matters."
"Wise words," Master Huan chuckled. "Come inside."
He led Su Tianhao through the shop, past rows of weapons hung neatly along every wall, until they reached the smaller chamber at the back—the sword room. It was more crowded than Su Tianhao remembered, blades filling every corner, every surface, making it feel like he'd stumbled upon a sword shrine.
"So many..." Su Tianhao's brow ached. "Even more than last time," his expression carrying a rare flicker of admiration.
"You've been busy."
"Close," Master Huan said, pride and determination mingling in his voice. "I can feel it—I'm almost there. The breakthrough to Peak Mortal Rank weapons is within reach."
"I can help you with that," Su Tianhao suddenly said.
The room went quiet.
Master Huan stared at him. He was not the kind of man who entertained jokes, and he knew Su Tianhao wasn't the kind of person who made them. But still—
"Are you serious?"
"When have I ever lied to you?"
"..."
Master Huan had no answer for that. But the how remained in his eyes—Questioning. Curious. Intrigued.
Su Tianhao's expression remained calm, quietly confident—because just like Su Yuan and Su Lei, he had prepared something for Master Huan. It was a debt he'd been carrying since the day Shadowfang was placed in his hands—a sword that had saved his life more than once.
His father's inherited memories held something useful here. While Tunlong Chenyuan's formation dao had reached Supreme Immortal heights, his study of weapon craftsmanship had been a byproduct—knowledge accumulated in service of deeper inscription mastery. At the mortal realm level, yes. But mortal realm knowledge from an immortal-tier foundation still placed it far beyond anything the mortal realm's craftsmen could produce.
Su Tianhao hadn't reached that depth yet. But what was available in the currently unlocked layers was more than enough for this moment.
He reached into the spatial ring and withdrew a scroll, holding it out.
Master Huan's eyes went wide at the sight of it.
"A technique," Su Tianhao said, "to help you reach where you're trying to go. It's called the Ironroot Tempering Method. With it, you can one day become an outstanding Spirit Rank weapon craftsman—or beyond."
Master Huan accepted the scroll with both hands, reverent and careful, and began to read.
---
Ironroot Tempering Method—a refined weapon crafting technique focused on enhancing material purity and structural harmony during forging. By combining controlled flame techniques with basic spiritual infusion, it allows craftsmen to forge sturdier, more balanced weapons with improved spiritual conductivity—without relying on high-grade materials or rare tools. Ideal for blacksmiths seeking solid foundational mastery over breakthroughs fueled by rare resources and financial support.
---
Master Huan's breathing quickened by the time he looked up.
"Where did you get this?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.
"That's not what matters," Su Tianhao said. "What matters is what it makes possible."
Master Huan stood for a long moment, calloused fingers trembling faintly against the scroll's edges. Then he exhaled—deep and slow.
"Thank you, Young Master," he breathed. "I don't know how to repay you."
"You don't need to," Su Tianhao smiled, placing a steady hand on the man's shoulder. "Shadowfang has saved my life more than once. I am merely returning the favor."
A comfortable silence settled between them—the kind that only exists between people who have no pretense left to maintain.
Master Huan looked up, meeting his eyes. "This technique—I will master it. I promise you that."
"I know you will."
"Where will you go?" Master Huan asked.
"Forward," Su Tianhao said simply. "Always forward."
Master Huan nodded—the kind of slow, understanding nod that needed no explanation. "Then go with my blessing. May your path take you to the heights you're chasing."
"Thank you, Master Huan. For everything."
With a final nod of respect, Su Tianhao turned and walked out of the forge, leaving Master Huan alone in the quiet chamber with the scroll and the blades and the years of work that had brought him to this moment.
The debt to Master Huan—repaid.
All debts—settled.
Su Tianhao stepped back into the bustle of the marketplace, expression calm, purpose clear.
...Just one last destination remained before he could leave Oakwood City behind forever.