Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Chapter 127 Crimson Star, Knight Lund

In the afternoon in Saint Laurent, the sky was still shrouded in a layer of leaden-gray industrial smog.

Fine rain, mixed with the pungent smell of burning coal, drifted freely over the streets.

The screeching sound of gears rubbing together with the dull roar of steam locomotives formed the ceaseless pulse of this steel behemoth city.

Xilun held up his newly bought, custom-made black umbrella, his leather boots making a steady, rhythmic sound as they stepped on the puddle-filled cobblestones.

Rainwater slid down the tough, chain-like steel wires of the umbrella, forming a series of shimmering beaded curtains.

The cold metallic touch from the umbrella handle kept Xilun's surging blood and energy at bay, maintaining a constant state of absolute rationality and vigilance.

He raised his wrist and glanced at the brass mechanical watch.

A quarter past two in the afternoon.

There is still plenty of time before the time agreed upon in the letter.

Xilun wasn't in a hurry. He deliberately slowed his pace, allowing the "Great Sea Whale Guiding Technique" within his body to slowly circulate as he walked.

With each breath, the faint, mysterious particles floating in the damp air around him seeped into his skin through his pores, constantly washing away the hidden wounds left from his life-or-death battle with Sislow.

As he approached the heavy oak doors of the Iron Cross Fight Club, his keen hearing immediately picked up on the unusual commotion behind them.

The training hall, which was usually filled with the sounds of clashing muscles, booming sandbags, and heavy breathing, was now permeated with an extremely fervent atmosphere.

Xilun folded his black umbrella, casually shook off the water droplets, and pushed open the door to enter.

A murky heat wave, a mixture of sweat, cheap tobacco, and some intense emotion, hit me.

The spacious lobby on the first floor was already packed with people.

Dozens of students dressed in various colored training uniforms crowded together, but strangely no one made a loud noise.

Everyone deliberately lowered their voices, whispering among themselves in small groups, their eyes frequently glancing at the spiral staircase leading to the second and third floors.

"Have you heard? Lord Lund, the Crimson Star, has returned!"

"Nonsense, otherwise why do you think so many people came today? Even those inner sect elites who are usually nowhere to be seen have all come out."

"That's a Tier 3 high-level knight! It's said that he once tore apart an adult land dragon with his bare hands during a colonial conflict! If I could get even a single word of guidance from him, I would benefit from it for the rest of my life."

The murmurs were like countless worker bees buzzing in his ears as Xilun walked through the crowd expressionlessly.

His powerful life magnetic field, belonging to a first-order baptized being, leaked out slightly unintentionally. The ordinary students around him, who had not yet crossed the threshold of extraordinary status, immediately felt a tightness in their chests and involuntarily made way for him.

Xilun walked straight to the staircase leading to the third-floor office area.

There, he saw several familiar figures.

Fester, still with that shrewd yet slightly ingratiating look, was standing on tiptoe, peering upstairs.

Not far from Fester stood a tall, upright young man dressed in an elegant pure white training uniform.

Robert.

Unlike usual, the second son of the nobleman did not put on airs today. His hands were clenched into fists, and his knuckles turned an unnatural bluish-white from excessive force.

Those deep eyes were fixed on the tightly closed mahogany door on the third floor, a kind of almost morbid longing burning deep within them.

Hillon's arrival caught Robert's attention.

Their eyes met briefly in mid-air.

Robert's pupils contracted slightly. From Siron's calm, deep-pool-like eyes, he sensed a pressure that was even heavier and more unfathomable than it had been a few days ago.

It was a terrifying aura, like a giant sea monster lurking on the seabed.

Robert gritted his teeth and forced his gaze away.

He wouldn't allow himself to show any fear in front of a commoner, especially at this crucial moment that would determine his fate.

Celen ignored Robert's hostile and wary gaze.

He stood quietly at the bottom of the steps, propping his black umbrella on the ground, his hands folded over the handle, and closed his eyes to rest.

Just then, the heavy mahogany door on the third floor made a dull thud and slowly opened inward.

The entire hall fell into a deathly silence. Everyone held their breath, and hundreds of eyes, like moths drawn to light, were fixed on the figure that slowly emerged.

Mentor Ryan was the first to step forward.

This high-ranking extraordinary individual, who was usually extremely dignified and even somewhat irritable in front of the students, was now acting like a respectful servant.

He bowed slightly, his hands pressed lightly in front of him, his voice loud yet revealing an undisguised reverence.

"Make way! Step back! Don't block Lord Lund's way!"

Rein's powerful voice echoed throughout the hall, causing some of the weaker students to experience a buzzing in their eardrums.

The crowd parted quickly to both sides like Moses parting the sea, making way for a wide passage.

Behind Renn, a young man dressed in a wide, pure white robe walked out slowly.

He looked to be in his early thirties, with a handsome face and soft features, lacking the fierceness that comes from years of fighting.

His hair was casually draped over his shoulders, and a gentle smile played on his lips.

However, the moment he appeared, Xiren suddenly opened his eyes.

The "Great Sea Whale Guidance Technique" within Xilun's body began to operate uncontrollably on its own. His heart pounded like a drum, and the speed of his blood flow surged instantly. Beneath his skin, the subtle black scale patterns began to heat up wildly, as if they had encountered some deadly natural enemy.

This is a third-order aberrant!

Xilun stared intently at the white-robed man, a look of horror flashing deep in his pupils.

To the average student, Lord Lund might simply be a superior with an outstanding demeanor.

But in the eyes of a baptized person like Siron, who had already crossed the threshold of the extraordinary and possessed terrifying perception, Lund was simply a human-shaped source of natural disaster.

The air around the man's body was undergoing extremely subtle distortions.

With each step he took, the solid wood floor beneath his feet made no sound, but Xilun could clearly feel that the entire building's load-bearing structure was trembling slightly with the frequency of the man's steps.

That is the life magnetic field that naturally overflows after the physical strength is compressed and condensed to the extreme.

It's like a high-density bomb that could explode at any moment, tightly wrapped in a seemingly gentle skin.

"Let me see the trainees."

Lund's voice was soft, yet it reached the ears of everyone present with a strange penetrating power.

He smiled and followed behind Ryan, slowly walking down the stairs.

His gaze, like a tangible searchlight, casually swept across the dense crowd below.

His self-illumination paused briefly as it swept past Robert.

When his gaze finally fell on Xiren, who was leaning on a black umbrella, a barely perceptible hint of surprise flashed in his clear eyes, and then he nodded slightly.

"The club has many new faces."

Lund withdrew his gaze, his voice still gentle, yet carrying an undeniable authority, "I hope you can give me some surprises."

After saying that, he didn't linger. He turned around and went back up to the third floor, heading towards the president's private office at the end of the corridor.

Ryan immediately followed. As he passed the stairwell, Ryan stopped, turned to look down, and pointed with his thick finger.

"You two, come here."

Ryan pointed at Robert, then at Siron.

Robert, whose name was called, shuddered, his eyes flashing with a complex light that was a mixture of ecstasy and tension.

He took a deep breath, straightened his perfectly wrinkle-free collar, and strode up the steps.

Celen remained calm, lifting his black umbrella and following Robert at a leisurely pace.

The two met again the moment they stepped onto the third-floor corridor.

Robert's eyes were filled with warning and a resolute determination, like a lone wolf guarding its prey.

Xilun merely glanced at him indifferently, as if he were looking at a stranger on the street.

This almost dismissive indifference instantly ignited Robert's anger and sense of humiliation, but he bit his tongue hard, forcing himself to calm down through the pain.

Now is not the time to worry about these things; the man behind the door is the only true god who can decide his fate.

At the end of the third-floor corridor, the heavy, carved wooden door to the president's office was tightly closed.

After leading the two outside, Mentor Ryan stepped aside without a word, standing like an iron tower in the shadows of the corridor.

The air was filled with the rich aroma of burning fine cigars, mixed with the chilly rain drifting in from outside, making the atmosphere here particularly somber.

Xilun leaned quietly against the wall, his hands resting on a black umbrella, his eyes slightly lowered.

He adjusted his breathing frequency to be completely in sync with the surrounding environment, and tried his best to suppress the boiling blood and qi in his body.

Outside the door of a third-order aberrant being, any ostentatious fluctuation of life magnetic field is an extremely foolish provocation.

Robert, standing a few steps away from him, was in a completely different state.

This noble young master, who usually looks down on people with his chin, is currently experiencing intense psychological torment.

His chest heaved, and each breath seemed rapid.

His prized "Dawn Breathing Technique" was now slightly disordered, with wisps of scorching air seeping out from his pores and creating faint ripples in the air.

Robert was both afraid and desperately eager.

As the second son of a baronial family, he was labeled a "spare tire" from birth.

The family's top resources, core power, and even the father's stingy praise were always poured into the eldest son, Ross.

He trained relentlessly every day, enduring the pain of broken bones and torn muscles, all in order to earn a proper look from his father at the family banquet.

But no matter how hard he tries, Ross can easily crush all his efforts with a casual remark like, "My brother still needs more practice."

He was not reconciled.

He wanted to prove to everyone that he, Robert, was the most outstanding member of the family.

The door before him, and the man behind it known as the "Radiance of the Crimson Star," were the only steps he could take to cross that class divide.

As long as he can become Lord Lund's disciple, and as long as he can receive the protection and full instruction of a third-tier expert, he will be able to crush his arrogant brother Ross underfoot in front of all the nobles at the upcoming Junior Knight Fighting Tournament.

"Robert, come in."

A gentle yet penetrating voice came from inside the door.

Robert's body jolted violently, as if struck by an invisible electric current.

Arrogant as he was, all his pretense and reserve crumbled instantly in front of Lord Lund, a high-ranking knight, leaving only the purest humility.

He took a deep breath, pushed open the heavy wooden door with trembling hands, lowered his head, and respectfully walked in.

The wooden door slowly closed behind him, isolating Xilun in the silence of the corridor.

Xilun didn't eavesdrop. He knew that with the perception of a third-tier expert, any qi or blood attached to the door panel would be instantly backfired.

He simply waited quietly, his mind rehearsing the possible conversations and probing attempts that might occur soon.

Inside the office.

The spacious room was brightly lit by huge floor-to-ceiling windows, creating a stark contrast between the continuous rain outside and the warm, spring-like interior.

The floor was covered with a thick velvet carpet, which made no sound when you stepped on it.

Lund sat behind the large mahogany desk, flipping through a beautifully bound booklet.

He looked very relaxed, and didn't even lift his head.

Robert walked three steps away from the table, stopped, and bowed deeply.

"Greetings, Your Excellency Lund." Robert's voice was hoarse from excessive tension.

Lund turned a page, and with a soft chuckle, accompanied by the rustling sound of the paper rubbing together.

"Two months ago, when I left Saint Laurent City, your breathing technique was not yet proficient, and your qi and blood were weak and superficial."

Lund finally raised his head, his clear eyes seeming to see right through Robert's soul. "It seems you've completed your baptism and begun practicing your family's true core techniques. You've made good progress."

Hearing the praise from a third-tier expert, Robert's heart pounded, and he quickly bowed his head again.

"It was all thanks to your teachings that I found the opportunity to break through."

Lund put down the booklet in his hand, crossed his hands to support his chin, and looked calmly at Robert.

I know about your obsession.

Lund's voice turned low, carrying a sense of world-weariness, "If you can defeat your brother Ross in this junior knight fighting tournament, it will not only be a turning point in your life, but also an excellent honor for our Ironman Club."

Robert's eyes suddenly lit up.

"However," Lund's tone shifted, a hint of cruelty creeping into it, "this is indeed quite difficult. As far as I know, Ross reached the peak of the first tier a year ago, and he enjoys all the preferential resources your family provides."

It's virtually impossible to cross that gap in just a few months.

Robert suddenly looked up, his eyes slightly reddening with excitement.

"With Lord Lund's guidance, I will surely surpass my brother! I can endure any hardship and pay any price!" Robert's voice was almost a roar, carrying a desperate madness.

Lund looked at the young man in front of him, who was driven to the brink of madness by family pressure, and slowly shook his head.

"From the moment you step into this extraordinary world, you have only one choice: to face difficulties alone."

Lund stood up, walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window, and looked at the gray city outside. "The acquisition of power has never been about the charity of others. I can't help you with anything."

"No! You can do it!" Robert took a sudden step forward and knelt heavily on the thick carpet, his voice shrill.

"Your skill is praised even by the Earth Knights, and your breathing technique is extraordinary! If I could receive your guidance, even just a little bit, perhaps I could improve even more!"

Moreover, I have the utmost respect for you, a respect that surpasses even my faith in my family! Please allow me to become your disciple!

A long, deathly silence fell over the office.

The only sound was the dull thud of rain hitting the glass outside the window.

Lund turned around and looked down at Robert, who was kneeling on the ground.

There was no pity or mockery in that gaze, only a calm scrutiny.