Chapter 113: Martial Insight

That thunderous strike left the entire courtyard in stunned silence as his newly awakened resilience held absolute, allowing him to shake off the impact and leave the estate behind on his way to the Imperial Arsenal...

As he walked, he spoke to the Great Sage.

*Great Sage, report the status,* Theo thought.

[Answer: The Parasite class is active. No rejection detected from previously absorbed beast cores.]

Theo nodded. The *Parasite* class was his most guarded secret...

It granted him the authority to consume non-human entities, extracting their innate skills, traits, and elemental affinities.

He had deliberately suppressed its more overt functions because mutation was the universal hallmark of a Syndicate Demonic Cultivator.

He would have been executed by the Imperial Inquisition within an hour.

However, he now possessed the *Shadow-Weave Array Seal* a supreme treasure he had acquired from Archon Zelia.

[Notice: By integrating the Shadow-Weave Array Seal into the host’s active loadout, any mutations generated by the Parasite class will be masked as the optical effects of a rare transformation artifact. Risk of detection by Imperial authorities is currently zero percent.]

"Perfect," Theo murmured.

He could finally utilize his full arsenal without restraint. Furthermore, *Great Sage* possessed the authority to merge redundant assimilated skills into superior variants. His growth was about to accelerate exponentially...

Fifteen minutes later, Theo arrived at the colossal gates of the Arsenal.

Instead of the usual disciplined formations, a line of hundreds of Outer Academy Auxiliaries snaked out from the entrance.

They were shuffling toward a desk manned by a Quartermaster, tossing their insignias into a growing pile.

The Quartermaster, an older woman missing two fingers on her left hand, spotted Theo’s pristine white sovereign robes and bowed respectfully.

The surrounding recruits looked at him with a mix of awe and envy, yet they continued to surrender their tokens.

"Quartermaster, why are there so many desertions?" Theo asked, genuinely confused.

"The Praetorian Selection begins in thirteen days, Sovereign," the veteran explained, stacking the bronze tokens. "Most of these initiates joined simply to learn basic sword forms. They intend to return to their rural provinces and secure comfortable jobs as town constables or caravan guards. They have no desire to die for a chance at the Inner Academy."

As he prepared to enter the Arsenal, Theo activated his suite.

*Great Sage, scan the crowd.*

[Target: Cassius. Age: 19. Fate: White. Recent Events: Received correspondence regarding the death of a local widow’s third husband. Returning home to pursue a romantic relationship.]

Theo ignored Cassius. Helping a teenager pursue a rural widow would yield a negligible investment return, perhaps a handful of copper coins.

However, exceptions always existed in a large enough sample size.

[Target: Lucius. Age: 19. Fate: Black. Recent Events: Destined to fall for a honey-trap at a roadside tavern tomorrow evening. Will be assassinated and discarded in the Tiber River.]

Theo stopped. A life was a life. Assuming there was no existing enmity, he could not simply watch a man march toward a preventable death, especially when intervening was so simple.

"Lucius," Theo called out.

The recruit jumped, pointing at himself in shock. He could not fathom why the Abyssal Sword Sovereign knew his name.

"Yes, Sovereign? How may I serve?"

"Does your route home take you through the Qinghe Province?" Theo asked.

"No, Sovereign," Lucius answered, deeply confused. "Qinghe is entirely in the opposite direction. I am taking a river barge south."

Theo reached into his spatial ring and retrieved a solid gold denarius, thick enough to purchase a moderate estate in any rural town. He held it up.

"Does your route take you through Qinghe now?" Theo asked.

Lucius stared at the gold. He wasn’t stupid. "Yes! Certainly, Sovereign. It is perfectly on my way."

"Excellent. Deliver a verbal message to the garrison captain in Qinghe for me," Theo instructed, handing over the gold.

Lucius eagerly sprinted off to reroute his journey. Above his head, the ominous black fate instantly shifted to a pristine white.

[Target Lucius’s fate altered. Death avoided.]

[Reward: Two Years of Pure Martial Insight.]

*Great Sage, assimilate the reward.*

[Affirmative. The Parasite class has integrated the muscle memory without rejection.]

Theo smirked. It was an unexpected, lucrative windfall.

Pure martial insight was universally valuable. Every drop filled the bucket.

He immediately turned back to the crowd.

*Great Sage, filter all targets for Black Fates.*

[Processing...]

Five minutes later, Theo stopped a recruit destined to be eaten by a mountain chimera, bribing him to take a coastal ship instead.

[Reward: Two Years of Pure Martial Insight.]

Ten minutes later, he intercepted a young man fated to be butchered by highwaymen, paying for his carriage fare on a guarded royal road.

[Reward: Two Years of Pure Martial Insight.]

Within half an hour, Theo had spent a fraction of his vast wealth to alter the trajectories of four doomed men, accumulating a total of eight years of pure martial insight.

"The world is a dangerous place," Theo mused.

Natural disasters and human malice were everywhere. He had essentially farmed a decade of combat experience just by handing out travel advice and pocket change.

With the Praetorian Selection thirteen days away, the exodus of outer recruits would continue every morning.

If he returned here daily to intercept the doomed, he could easily stockpile seventy or eighty years of martial insight before the trials even began.

Satisfied that there were no more black fates lingering by the gate, Theo strode confidently toward the Arsenal doors.

Tomorrow was going to be a very profitable morning...

---

Thirty miles from the Ashfall Peaks, inside the cellar of a dilapidated tavern.

Four figures sat around a table in silence. After a long pause, the only woman in the room spoke.

"Why are we sitting in the shadows?" Tribune Cassia asked.

"Our business is not meant to see the light of day," a raspy male voice replied. "Furthermore, it establishes a professional atmosphere for clandestine plotting."

Cassia rubbed her temples. "How goes the propaganda campaign I funded?"

"Flawlessly," the shadow replied proudly. "I have hired every bard and town crier in the province. Everyone gathered at the Ashfall Peaks knows that the Abyssal Sword Sovereign and the Aurora Empress have deeply offended Crown Prince Aurelius."

"And the specific bard who is currently singing that the Crown Prince’s esteemed Tribune was beaten into a ’sniveling, piss-soaked pig’?" Cassia’s voice trembled with suppressed rage. "Was that your doing?"