Chapter 383: Arrogance (2)

Priam looked up at the sky and estimated that there were around 50,000 people.

Among them, one-third were Level 9 Enlightened Sages, while the rest consisted of Philosopher Sages within the first three levels.

Almost all of them wore identical grayish robes, bearing the symbol of a tree on their chests. The tree had branches in five different colors—this was the official emblem of the Ironweald Sect, which only inner and core disciples had the right to wear.

Priam had already heard about how the races and families within the inner sect worked. Everyone born in that protected region was subjected to a rigorous talent assessment once they turned ten.

Around 99.99% of people failed. Faced with that, they were left with only two options: become a worker of the inner sect, or leave that protected place and begin their journey as an outer disciple until they gained enough strength to return.

Sallya, Daraen, Inigo, and countless other members of Priam’s faction had gone through this same process.

Mishnar, for example, was married to an inner Elder, and thanks to his influence, she could have lived in the inner region if she wished. However, being a proud woman, she would never accept lowering herself to such a degree.

She got married and remained there only until her son, Inigo, reached the age to leave. After that, she also left the place to resume her position as the Head Elder of the 11th Branch.

In a few years, she would undergo another sect evaluation to try once again to become an inner disciple. Yes, even though she was older, she would enter only as an ordinary inner disciple.

Age had no relevance to the sect; what mattered was individual power alone. Currently, Priam himself was already stronger than Mishnar, for example.

Inigo, on the other hand, wanted to reunite his family within the inner sect, and he trusted that his mother would make it there someday. What he had never imagined was that he himself would achieve that goal before her.

The story of the two of them was merely one example among many; countless young people born within the sect went through similar trials, nurturing the dream of one day returning to the inner region.

As for the 0.01% who passed the talent test, they did not need to become outer disciples, as they were directly elevated to the status of core disciples of the sect.

They could continue enjoying all the privileges of the place, but whenever the Inner Disciple Test took place, they were required to participate and prove their worth. After all, having talent without real power was useless. It was rare, but if they failed the test, they would lose all their privileges and be demoted to inner workers.

Besides those blessed with supernatural talent, there was another category: those born into the Four Sacred Families.

These were the four most powerful bloodlines of the main sect, also known as ’The Four Talents of the Sovereign Goddess.’

They were bloodlines that had received great assistance from the Goddess in the past, but they had already existed even before she ascended to Sovereign, which was why she had not completely altered them. Because of this, they were not destroyed when the Goddess fell... well, with the exception of one.

In the past, there had been five bloodlines. The main one—the most powerful and feared bloodline in the entire universe while the Goddess was alive—had been completely eradicated because it was considered ’far too dangerous.’

The Talents of the Sovereign Goddess were easily categorized by their specialties: Wind, Earth, Water, and Nature. But the last and most devastating of them all... was Miasma.

When Priam learned all of this, he let out a restrained laugh.

Indeed, Dandara carried the essence of this within her.

Even though she had reincarnated without any memories of her past life, traces of her former power still remained alive within her.

Back to the present, in the skies, only four figures were not wearing the sect’s standard robes.

They were precisely the four young heirs of the Sacred Families: two men and two women.

Priam merely sighed softly, because the massive aura of arrogance emanating from those 50,000 individuals was terrifying—much more terrifying, in fact, than the actual power they possessed.

Well... they were impressive talents who had lived under protection, with the best of everything at their disposal. They were the complete opposite of all the disciples who had come from the outer sect.

"Hahaha... We were told so much about how extraordinary this generation of outer beggars was. But... it seems they’re nothing more than slightly larger ants. Their auras are completely gentle and lack any power. What the hell is going on?"

In the center of the group, an ordinary disciple mocked them loudly. Everyone around him nodded in agreement, overflowing with contempt.

Below, no one retorted, maintaining absolute silence.

Were those people idiots? Of course their auras were gentle and restrained.

After all, why would they keep their killing intent and power released all the time? They had learned from Priam to always remain calm and silent, like a hidden blade in its sheath.

They would only draw that blade when strictly necessary; otherwise, they would merely look like uncontrolled maniacs.

"Hehehe... There’s nothing we can do. Let’s just be tolerant and try to protect as many lives as possible," a woman said in a light tone and with a pretentiously solemn air.

At that moment, all the disciples on the ground clenched their fists, filled with restrained fury. However, they didn’t dare take a single step without authorization from their leadership.

"There’s no need to be tolerant..."

Priam’s calm and indifferent voice echoed through the surroundings.

Everyone above turned toward him, breaking into mocking smiles when they met his emotionless gaze.

"Oh? Is this the famous Priam we’ve heard so much about? Really... he just looks like someone who came from the mortal plane. Compared to the others, his aura is even fainter."

Priam didn’t react to the mockery.

When he first left home and set out toward the outside world, leaving his small hometown in the countryside for the main clan in the mortal plane, Priam had been nothing more than a frail young man carrying great ambitions.

He had hoped to live a magical life and become a grand and invincible hero.

More than ten years had passed since that first step. During that time, he had fought in countless battles, and rivers of blood had stained the earth. Instead of the heroic dream he had once imagined, he found himself trapped in a foul swamp, surrounded by hungry bastards who never stopped appearing.

He remembered an old saying from Earth: The trees longed for peace, but the wind never let them rest.

In that savage world, sometimes a simple glance could attract an assassin. Even people from the same sect were capable of trying to kill him for no reason, or looking down on him simply because he had been born in a miserable place.

It was a harsh and merciless world where the strong devoured the weak.

After more than ten years of this, Priam was already exhausted from all the nonsense. He had truly matured—to the point that he barely even took out his black branch to pick a fight anymore. However, he simply couldn’t stop. If he stopped, he would be killed.

"Tolerance? That doesn’t exist in this world. Anyone who tries to be tolerant only attracts more humiliation, more slaughter, and more enemies. In the world we live in, it doesn’t matter what you do; you’ll always make enemies... unless you stand at the very top."

Priam continued speaking calmly, wearing a lazy expression.

"At the very top of power, above everyone and everything, whatever you say becomes the absolute truth. Even if you fart, countless people will respectfully come over to admire the smell and praise you for it."

He sighed. In the beginning, he had truly believed that the magical world was mysterious and sacred. But after actually entering it, he discovered that it was nothing more than a place steeped in slaughter and an insatiable desire to dominate others.

Many had already been completely consumed by those desires. The stronger they became, the greedier they grew, until they eventually desired to become the supreme rulers of this world.

On the mortal plane, since everyone had relatively similar levels of power, it was still easy to find kind-hearted people. However, on the divine plane, the stronger someone became, the harder it was to find someone who was even remotely decent. And the more talented a person was, the worse their character seemed to be.

Suddenly, everyone in the sky began laughing uncontrollably.

Below, the disciples on the ground narrowed their eyes and tightened their grips on their weapons, ready to explode into action and attack at any moment. They could tolerate being humiliated personally, but seeing those arrogant bastards laughing at Priam was absolutely unforgivable.

However, the collective laughter lasted less than five seconds. Abruptly, a small figure in the sky simply waved her hand.

At the same instant, everyone fell silent, leaving only slight expressions of displeasure on their faces.

"That kind of understanding is worthy of the greatest young talent in the entire sect today."

The soft female voice echoed through the surroundings, and with a gentle gust of wind, a small figure appeared directly on the ground, right in front of Priam.

She was a very short woman, standing only five feet tall. However, despite her stature, her gaze and life aura made it clear that she was even older than Priam himself.

She had pointed elf-like ears, tanned skin, and short turquoise-blue hair adorned with jewels. Her large eyes, the same color as her hair, sparkled like enchanting pearls.

She had an athletic body and wore clothes that reminded Priam of the dancers from fantasy games on Earth—richly detailed garments with a top that covered only her bust and emphasized her silhouette.

She was surrounded by a gentle aura of natural wind, radiating a delicate charm that would make any man feel an instinctive urge to protect her.

[Name: Nise Misumi]

[Race: Aciestor]

[Magic Title: Fighter Sage Philosopher, Third Level]

[Karmic Title: Missionary of the Goddess]

[Bloodline: 95]

[Anima: 65]

[Wheel of Fate: 70]

[Loyalty: Neutral]

As he viewed the young woman’s status window, Priam’s eyes narrowed.

’Missionary of the Goddess?!’ He instantly remembered the day he had first seen his mother’s status—it was exactly the same Karmic Title! (Chapter 8)

She stopped in front of him and gave a subtle bow of her head, showing courtesy.

"Nice to meet you. I’m Nise, and I was put in charge of commanding the sect’s core disciples."

Priam, who had been feeling melancholic about the world until just a moment ago, caught a glimmer of hope in this young woman. Since she had been mixed in among the 50,000 disciples, he hadn’t noticed her before. Yet she didn’t radiate the slightest trace of arrogance.

Besides... there was a genuine innocence and youthful spirit about her, something he had never expected to see in someone so powerful.

"Please don’t mention that ’greatest young talent in the entire sect’ title. I have absolutely no desire to fight whoever happens to be after that position," Priam said with a shrug, looking helpless.

Hearing that, the short girl’s eyes widened in surprise for a moment. She had never expected such a response—possibly because she was used to dealing only with absurdly proud people who would be delighted to receive such a title.

Priam smiled faintly. "Who knows how many people want to be called that? I’m not afraid of anyone, but I don’t want to keep fighting over an empty title. That would be stupid. The pleasure is all mine."

At those words, Nise finally nodded and smiled, making the turquoise-blue light in her eyes shine even more intensely.

At that exact moment...

"!"

A violent buzzing sound rang out right behind Priam, and a fierce, brutal aura suddenly erupted, attacking him like a storm.