Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Chapter 129 Lund's Training Invitation, Extraordinary Realm

"I understand, Your Excellency."

Xilun nodded slightly and carefully put the business card away. "Even just listening to your teachings briefly has benefited me greatly, more valuable than any advanced breathing technique."

So, when I arrive tomorrow morning, is there anything specific I need to bring?

Lund shook his head and casually said, "Whatever you want. But you have to remember, this is just targeted training to help you develop your potential, not a formal apprenticeship."

I don't want to hear any rumors outside about you claiming to be my disciple.

Lund turned around and looked at the oil painting of a giant sea monster on the wall.

"Two months from now, I will choose one of you and Robert to participate in the junior knight fighting tournament."

Over the next two months, I will provide you with targeted training. Whoever performs better in this competition and proves their worth will receive my full and in-depth instruction.

"Yes, Your Excellency."

Xilun bowed again, then turned around, picked up his black umbrella, and walked out of the oppressive office.

The moment Xilun stepped out the door, the suppressed whispers in the corridor vanished instantly.

In the third-floor hall, the eyes of numerous students and instructors were all fixed on him, their intense curiosity and scrutiny almost overwhelming him.

Mentor Ryan strode forward, his weathered face revealing undisguised anticipation and nervousness.

"Sirlen, how's it going?"

Renn lowered his voice and asked urgently, "Lord Lund—has he taken you under his wing?"

Xiren looked into Renn's hopeful eyes and calmly shook his head.

"no."

Upon hearing this answer, Ryan's previously expectant face instantly fell.

He sighed with a wry smile, his wrinkles crinkling together, looking extremely frustrated.

"Looks like it still won't work."

Ryan muttered, his tone full of resentment.

He had selected two of his most talented students, Robert, the second son of a nobleman with a family background, and Siren, a commoner who rose to prominence through his own ruthlessness and talent. Neither of them had managed to become Lord Lund's apprentice.

This means that in the upcoming allocation of club resources, he will once again be outpaced by the mentors of the other two Tier 2 Extraordinary Ones.

The disciples of those two mentors are said to have received some kind of verbal promise from Lord Lund.

Renn took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing his disappointment, and reached out to pat Xilen on the shoulder.

Even so, don't be discouraged.

Renn comforted him, trying to make his tone sound encouraging, "Lord Lund has very high standards, it's normal that he didn't take on a disciple on the spot. You still need to train hard and prepare for the junior knight fighting competition in six months."

It's important to understand that this isn't just a match; it's a battleground where the interests of major clubs are being reshuffled.

Renn's expression turned serious.

"Large clubs like the Silver Hand and Blackthorn are backed by real conglomerates and ancient families. They have a huge number of students and resources that are so abundant that they are the envy of many."

Every year, they train extraordinary individuals whose strength reaches the first-tier extreme realm to participate in the competition.

Faced with that kind of monster, ordinary first-tier baptized beings would only be crushed.

"Extreme Realm?"

Xilun was slightly taken aback; this was the first time he had heard this term. "Mentor, what does 'Extreme Realm' mean?"

Renn casually explained, "It's nothing serious. The so-called extreme realm is just the ceiling for a first-order baptized person."

After baptism, the strength of ordinary people will gradually increase as they practice breathing techniques.

But those at the pinnacle are different. Their accumulated strength has reached the absolute perfection that their bodies can contain, and their blood and qi are cultivated to an incomparably abundant state, like a powder keg about to explode.

A hint of awe flashed in Renn's eyes.

"They are tightly bound by the shackles of the second-tier Rippers, and due to a lack of some opportunity or special resources, they have not been able to break free of the shackles and advance to the second tier."

But it is precisely because of this prolonged period of extreme suppression that these extraordinary individuals often possess terrifying strength.

Their physical strength, explosive power, and precise control over their energy far surpass those of ordinary first-tier extraordinary individuals.

To distinguish them, we call these monsters, which are on the verge of extinction, "Extreme Realm."

Siren stroked his chin thoughtfully. He recalled the grey pirate captain who had fought him fiercely underwater in the Siren's Anvil Sea.

"Mentor, do you know Sislow?"

"Is he a Baptist from the Extremes?" Siren asked.

Renn glanced at Siron with some surprise, seemingly not understanding why he would suddenly bring up the name of a pirate.

"Sislow? That Grey Hemp pirate captain who's been causing such a stir on the Greywater River lately?"

Renn frowned, recalling the intelligence. "He is indeed very famous, but that's mostly because he's ruthless and kills without blinking an eye. He seems to be a little short of reaching the pinnacle."

Based on his years of experience, Ryan analyzed, "His strength is indeed quite formidable, and his black knife technique is fast, ruthless, and extremely lethal."

However, his blood and qi were slightly weaker, and his physical tempering had not reached a perfect balance.

This makes it difficult for him to withstand repeated, high-intensity attacks from enemies of the same level. If he were to encounter a true powerhouse at the pinnacle of strength, he probably wouldn't last more than thirty moves.

Xilun nodded slightly, having already made up his mind.

As Renn said, Sislow did indeed have a weakness in defense; otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to tear through the defenses with his Dark Gold Bone Claws.

After saying goodbye to Rennes, Siren turned and walked towards the club's gate.

The rain outside seemed to be getting heavier, with dense raindrops pounding against the windowpane with a dull thud.

Xilun picked up his black umbrella from the coat rack by the door, preparing to push the door open and go out.

Just then, a tall and gloomy figure emerged from the shadows beside him, blocking his path.

Robert was sitting in a chair with his legs crossed, staring coldly at the ground.

His elegant aristocratic attire appeared somewhat dull in the dim light, and his once meticulously combed blond hair was now somewhat disheveled, revealing his extreme anxiety.

Seeing Xilun approaching, he got up to greet him.

"Stop!" Robert shouted coldly, his voice carrying an undeniable arrogance.

Xilen stopped, turned her head slightly, and glanced at Robert with the indifferent look one would give a stranger.

"Lord Lund, would you consider me your disciple?"

Robert stared intently into Celen's eyes, as if trying to dig out the answer he wanted.

His hands gripped the armrests of the chair tightly, his knuckles turning white from the excessive force.

Xilun frowned, finding the question rather uninteresting.

"Does it matter?" Xilun asked rhetorically, his tone completely flat.

These words were like a fuse that lit a powder keg, instantly igniting Robert's long-suppressed anger.

He suddenly approached, his tall figure closing in on Xilun, and a powerful aura belonging to a first-order baptized being uncontrollably emanated from his body.

"This is very important to me!" Robert growled, his eyes bloodshot. "Tell me now! What did that old man say to you? Did he make you any promises?"

Despite Robert's almost out-of-control questioning, Celen remained suffocatingly calm.

He didn't even make any defensive gesture; he just stood there quietly.

"I have no reason to tell you this."

"Sirlen said casually, then looked away from Robert as if he were just an insignificant piece of air standing in front of him," he said.

Robert clenched his teeth, the muscles in his cheeks twitching violently.

The "Dawn Breathing Technique" within his body was operating wildly, and pale blue energy was faintly gathering in his palm. He wished he could smash that repulsive commoner's face with a single punch right now.

But he didn't completely explode. His family upbringing and his respect for the club's rules forced him to suppress the urge to fight.

He knew that if he openly attacked his fellow student at the club's main gate, he would not only anger his mentor, Renn, but also completely lose the opportunity to become Lund's student.

He suppressed the murderous intent churning in his chest, took a deep breath, and tried to make his voice sound as steady as possible.

"I don't want to have a conflict with you, Siren."

Robert said through gritted teeth, each word seemingly squeezed out from between his teeth, "Just tell me what Lord Lund said to you. I'll leave right now and won't cause you any trouble."

Looking at Robert's forced composure yet barely concealed weakness, a faint smile suddenly appeared on Xilun's lips.

"I forgot."

After uttering those three words, Celen ignored Robert, opened his sturdy black umbrella, and walked straight into the vast rain.

Robert stood frozen in place, his fists clenched so tightly they cracked, his chest heaving with extreme rage. He stared intently at Celen's receding figure, the resentment in his eyes almost tangible.

He hesitated for a moment, glanced at the club gate behind him, and ultimately decided not to make his move there.

But he knew that this matter could not be left unresolved.

Xilun walked calmly on the damp, cold streets of the foggy city.

A light drizzle began to fall, hitting the surface of the specially made black umbrella with a crisp pattering sound.

He slightly turned the umbrella handle, letting the gathered raindrops slide down the smooth curve of the umbrella surface, like a string of broken pearls, along the edge of the umbrella ribs.

The gas lamps lining the streets cast a dim, yellowish glow, reflecting dappled light and shadow on the flooded pavement.

As he walked, Xilun silently circulated the "Great Sea Whale Guiding Technique" within his body.

With each breath, the faint, mysterious particles floating in the surrounding air would seep into his body through his pores, slowly and steadily tempering his flesh and bones.

Suddenly, Xilun paused slightly.

His extraordinary sense of smell detected a strange fragrance wafting from the damp air.

It's a blend of the richness of fermented dough, the intensity of baked butter, and the delicate aroma of fresh scallions brought out by high heat.

On the outskirts of this downtown area, filled with industrial fumes, sewer stench, and the smell of the sea, this pure aroma of food seemed out of place, yet it held an irresistible allure for him.

Following the aroma, Xilun noticed a new bakery had opened at the street corner.

The shop's storefront was small, and the wooden signboard still smelled of fresh paint.

Through the bright glass window, you can see that it is filled with all kinds of golden pastries.

Despite the rain, a small queue had formed in front of the store, making it quite lively.

Xilun pursed his lips, a slight feeling of hunger rising in his stomach.

Practicing advanced guiding techniques consumes a great deal of physical energy; one needs a large amount of energy to replenish one's qi and blood.

He held up his umbrella, moved closer, and silently stood at the end of the line.

After waiting in line for more than a minute, the queue slowly moved forward. Only then did Xilun put away his umbrella and walk into the warm bakery.

The store is not very spacious; it feels a bit crowded with four or five people standing there.

The air was filled with the rich aroma of wheat and butter, making one's mouth water.

Behind the counter stood a middle-aged woman wearing a clean white apron, a kind smile on her face, skillfully placing freshly baked bread into paper bags.

Xilun's gaze swept across the shelf, finally settling on a freshly baked white bread.

The bread was toasted until slightly browned, topped with melted golden butter, and garnished with bright green scallions, emitting an enticing steam.

"How much?" Xilun pointed to the scallion bread and asked calmly.

The middle-aged woman looked up, smiling broadly, and said, "Sir, you have excellent taste. These are freshly made signs. If you only want one, it'll cost four pence. But if you can offer ten pence, I can sell you three."

Xilun quickly did a mental calculation and nodded slightly.

"Give me three."

As they were talking, Xilun felt two people brush past him.

He subconsciously turned his head to look, his gaze passing through the gaps in the shelves and landing on the profile of one of the women.

That was an acquaintance, Daisy.

This young lady, who is usually impeccably dressed and passionate about ancient mysticism, now had a blank expression on her face.

She was wearing a somewhat oversized waterproof trench coat, her hair casually tied back, and was being led forward by another woman's hand.

"Hurry up, buy it and go back quickly, this awful weather is unbearable."

Daisy yawned deeply, and a tear even squeezed out of the corner of her eye, clearly indicating that she was either still sleepy or extremely tired.

The woman holding her hand, however, remained quiet.

She wore a simple dark gray cloak, with most of her face hidden in the shadow of the hood.

She stood in front of another shelf, staring at a row of pork floss breads for a long time, as if making some extremely important decision.

"This one." The woman extended a slender, white finger and pointed to one of the breads.

Then, she quickly pointed to another spot where cream croissants were displayed, "This one."

She spoke very quickly, pointing to seven or eight different breads in a row, all of which were very high in calories and substantial in size.

The shop assistant behind the counter hurriedly packed the bread she pointed to, filling two large paper bags with a total of eight breads.

Although each loaf of bread is relatively small, it is still an enormous amount for a slender woman.

Daisy yawned again and turned her head away listlessly.

Suddenly, her gaze pierced through the gap in the shelf and met Siren's calm eyes.

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