Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

"Again."

Saiwei stood at the door with the medicine in his hand, holding back his anger for a moment before finally yelling, "What the hell are you going to do! You're coughing like crazy, and you still want to come back? He's a Tier 3, not some metal cabinet. Do you two want to die in the yard?"

Lund looked up.

"I'm not dead yet."

Savi sneered: "Soon."

There was a moment of silence under the eaves.

Lund, unusually, did not retort. He simply propped his old gun on the ground and slowly stood up.

Xilun put away his gun.

That's enough for today.

Lund glanced at him: "You think that's enough?"

"The teacher has coughed enough."

"..."

Lund stared at him for a couple of moments, then suddenly laughed.

"They've grown wings."

Xilun did not refute.

He dried the golden spear, leaned it against the wall, and as he went back into the house, he casually pulled over a drop of water that had accumulated by the gate.

Water droplets spread across my palm, reflecting the blurry shadow of a sentry at the street corner.

That person is still here.

He changed his posture three times, and two more pennies appeared in the broken bowl. The mud stains on his shoes became shallower, indicating that someone had brushed past him along the way and given him new information.

Xilun clasped his hands together, and the water droplets silently dispersed.

"Still not gone?" Lund asked.

"no."

"Being patient is a good thing."

Lund sat back in his chair, picked up the medicine that Savi handed him, frowned and took a sip. "But people who are too patient are usually not patient themselves, but the people behind them can wait."

Xiren sat down at the table.

The stove burned very low, and the old refrigeration unit made a steady, soft sound. The two kinds of heat and cold, which should not exist at the same time, were strangely balanced in this dilapidated house.

Savi served Xilen a bowl of hot soup, muttering complaints under his breath.

"An old madman and a young madman practice shooting all day long, in wind and rain, really thinking that flesh won't rot."

Xilun took the bowl: "Thank you."

Savi paused, muttering, "Stop with the nice things. Living a few more years is better than anything else."

Xilun lowered his head and drank his soup.

The soup contained cheap beans, a small amount of cured meat, and a touch of pepper; it was rough in flavor but very hot.

The warmth descended down his throat, dispelling the lingering cold in his chest and abdomen.

He suddenly realized that this ordinary thing was actually more precious than those cold mist marrow crystals and Yin spirit source water.

Lund looked at him.

"What are you thinking about?"

"after."

"Have you figured it out?"

"no."

Xilun put down his soup bowl, his tone calm, "But at least we know what to look into first."

Lund did not interrupt.

Siren continued, "I'm now at Tier 3, and the Brotherhood will change because of that. Before, we relied on territory, gunmen, intelligence, and money. From now on, we'll rely on my name."

"A name that's too heavy will crush a person," Lund said.

"Therefore, rules need to be set."

Xilun looked out the window. "Rhodes can manage the accounts, Kusso can handle the guns, and Yuri can keep the South District under control, but they're all used to the gang system. They could be brutal before, but not now. When a third-tier power is in charge, mistakes won't be treated as small gang brawls, but as threats."

Lund nodded.

"Anything else?"

"I need to figure out the cultivation process after the third stage."

Xilun raised his hand, a thin layer of frost rising from his palm, before quickly retracting it beneath his skin. "I can use my current power, but I don't understand it enough. The Profound Yin Breathing Technique gives me a strong chill, the Great Thunder Sound Breathing Technique can stabilize my bursts of power, and the Crimson Star can kill, but these are all pieced together piece by piece."

He paused.

"The further we go, the less we should rely on hard work."

A hint of satisfaction appeared in Lund's eyes.

"Finally, he said something worthwhile."

Saiwei rolled his eyes.

Lund ignored her and tapped the table.

Where are you going tomorrow?

"The Link family."

The room fell silent for a moment.

Savi was a beat too slow.

Lund looked at Xiren.

"Daisy?"

“I’m not going to see her,” Celen said. “The Link family has some old documents from their viscount days. They were once close to the nobility, and were also kicked out of it. They may not know much about the Upper City, titles, or extraordinary lineages, but they know a fair amount.”

Lund asked, "Do you think there are clues there about levels three and beyond?"

"At the very least, it will have the shadow of an aristocratic cultivation system."

Xiren's voice was low. "I can't just knock on the door of the Upper City right away. It's safer to start by looking at the things that were thrown down from the Upper City."

Lund was silent for a moment.

"Daisy may not want to see you."

"I know."

"You might not even want to see her."

Xilun did not answer immediately.

The coal in the stove cracked gently with a crisp sound.

After Susie left, the thread connecting the Link family, like a broken vine, still hung on the wall, but no longer grew.

Daisy hated him, was grateful to him, was wary of him, and perhaps had something more complicated.

He owed Susie a message, and he also owed Daisy a farewell that he never said.

However, some things are better left unsaid than spoken.

"It doesn't matter whether I meet him or not," Siron said. "The information is more important."

Lund looked at him for a while, then suddenly said, "Don't treat people as data or pawns."

Xilun looked up.

Lund held the medicine bowl, his expression indifferent.

"You've reached level three; the road ahead will only grow colder. The colder it gets, the more you need to remember that some people aren't useful, they're just people."

Xilun remained silent for a long time.

"I've got it."

Night was falling.

The sentries outside still hadn't left.

Xilun did not remove him.

He simply let a tiny bit of chill seep into the dripping water from the eaves before going to sleep.

The chill won't hurt anyone; it will only slowly adhere to the soles of the sentry's shoes along with the dampness. After one night, it will disappear like ordinary dew, but it will leave a faint enough trace before it disappears.

If the sentry returns to a base or makes contact with someone, at least Xiren will know the direction.

After doing all this, he lay down on the hard bed, but did not fall asleep immediately.

The cracks in the core of the spirit are quieter than last night.

The chill slowly flowed along my bone marrow, no longer as violent as when I was promoted, but far from being gentle either.

Third-order aberration.

This name doesn't sound respectable.

Distortion means deviation, it means the body begins to be rewritten by extraordinary forces, it means the boundary between humans and monsters begins to blur.

Xilun closed his eyes.

A black ice field flashed through the depths of my consciousness.

The version of himself, with monstrous bone spurs and covered in black and blue frost, seemed to still be watching him from afar.

He felt no fear.

I just clenched my fingers.

The rain stopped when it got light.

The fog in Victoria was lighter than yesterday, but the smell of coal smoke on the streets was stronger.

Xilun changed into a dark long coat, with a black trench coat over it. He didn't carry the golden spear, but instead hid the Soul-Suppressing Nail in his cuff, a short gun in his left side pocket, and a thin blade in his boot.

Lund sat by the door repairing an old gun, without looking up.

"Don't make a move against the Link family."

"As much as possible."

"Not enough."

Xilun stopped.

Lund looked up at him: "You have a past relationship there. And the most troublesome thing about past relationships is when they're stained with blood."

Xilun nodded.

"clear."

Savi handed him a small bag of dry bread.

"Eat on the way, and don't make that deadpan face, you'll scare the girls."

Xilun took the bread.

I will try my best.

Saiwei laughed in exasperation.

When Xilun left, the sentry on the street corner was no longer there.

He stood in the fog, feeling the chill left from last night.

It's very light.

Heading south, we circled two alleys and finally stopped near a shop selling cheap herbs.

The perimeter of the Third Charity Hospital's cooperative pharmacy.

Xilun did not turn back.

He boarded the carriage that had been prepared in advance, and the wheels rolled over the damp stone slabs as it headed toward the Link family's old residence.

The North District is unusually quiet today.

Perhaps it was because Tusor's letter of restraint had been sent to various places, or perhaps it was because the news of his advancement to the third rank was still spreading, but the small gangs on the streets had all restrained their claws, and even the drunkards who usually liked to provoke people at the tavern entrance had become much less numerous.

The carriage traveled through two long streets and stopped outside the Link family mansion.

The house was even more deserted than when I last visited.

The iron fence in front of the gate was cleaned, the weeds in the garden were trimmed, and the curtains were replaced with new ones, but the weariness emanating from the bones of the family could not be concealed by a few pieces of new cloth and a few clusters of flowers.

The gatekeeper's expression changed slightly when he saw Xilun.

He had obviously heard those new reports.

Golden Knight.

Third-order aberration.

He counter-killed the captain of Tusol's guard.

By the time these words reached the gates of noble mansions from the taverns, they had become exaggerated and terrifying.

"Mr. Celen."

The gatekeeper quickly bowed and said, "Please wait a moment, I'll go and inform them."

Xilun stood outside the door, his gaze sweeping across the courtyard.

Behind a window on the second floor, a curtain moved slightly.

Someone is watching him.

Soon, the butler came out to greet them personally.

"Mr. Siren, the family elders have instructed that if you wish to peruse the old collection, you may go directly to the study on the east side."

"This is troublesome."

The butler bowed slightly.

His attitude was more respectful than ever before, but also more cautious.

The third level brings not intimacy, but distance.

Xilun followed the butler through the front hall.

The corridor is adorned with old portraits of the Link family, the figures dressed in outdated formal attire, their eyes filled with pride, as if they were still standing under the lights of some ball.

Now the lights are off, leaving only the gray marks on the picture frame.

As he reached the corner, Xilun paused slightly.

Daisy stood by the colonnade in the distance.

She wore a dark blue dress, her hair was tied up, her face was thinner than before, but her eyes were deeper.

The two looked at each other across a long corridor.

No one spoke first.

Daisy's expression changed many times in that instant.

Hesitation, complexity, hatred, exhaustion, and a hint of reluctance that was almost too fleeting to be captured.

What she saw was Xilun.

He was also the one who helped Susie escape from the Link family.

He was the one who destroyed some of her wishes.

The person who left her to live a lonely life in the manor.

It was also outside this dilapidated house that one of the few people truly had the power to rewrite the ending.

Xilun did not go over.

Daisy didn't have it either.

A moment later, she lowered her eyes, turned and left.

The hem of her skirt swept across the carpet without making a sound.

The butler said in a low voice, "Miss hasn't been feeling well lately."

Xilun looked in the direction she had disappeared.

"Um."

The study on the east side was more spacious than I had imagined.

The bookshelf was filled with old books, their pages yellowed, their covers torn, and the air filled with the mixed smells of dust, wax, and old ink.

The housekeeper lit the gas lamp for him and brought over several boxes of documents.

"These are extraordinary documents from the Viscount period, including noble genealogies, old parliamentary records, and travelogues. Much of the content may not be accurate."

"That's enough."

The butler withdrew.

After the door closed, only the sound of turning pages remained in the study.

First, examine the noble lineage of Xilun.

The Link family's collection is incomplete, but precisely because it is incomplete, it contains many fragmentary records.

Who suddenly aged at which banquet?

Whose illegitimate child is born able to hear the sound of the tide?

Which baron, after failing to be promoted, became petrified and was secretly sent by his family to the church for cremation?

These things don't resemble formal texts; they're more like whispers left behind by family members when they were both afraid and curious.

Xilun read very slowly.

Until he opened an old book with a gray-black cover.

There is a faded title line on the page.

On External Forces Returning to Oneself and the Forging of the Sacred Body

Xilun's fingertips stopped.

He looked down.

The handwriting was difficult and the sentences were archaic, yet they vaguely revealed something he had only grasped the outline of before.

Extraordinary cultivation, the first three stages are the introductory stages.

First-order baptisms are performed, enabling the body to receive extraordinary power.

The second-tier Ripper tears apart the old limits, allowing power to no longer remain only on the surface of the skin and flesh.

Those with third-order aberrations can truly harness external forces for their own use, causing their bodies to undergo a clear and directional mutation.

This process is referred to as the casting of the Holy Body in older texts.

The Holy Body is not a holy body.

Rather, it is a container capable of bearing greater power.

Xilun's gaze slowly darkened.

He recalled how, during his promotion, the materials, medicinal properties, chill, bloodstains, and darkness at the edge of the evil god's remnant consciousness pressed into his body layer by layer.

External forces are attributed to oneself.

Forging the sacred body.

It turns out that this is the path hidden beneath the name "abnormal person".

He continued flipping through the pages.

The fourth to sixth stages are known as the three stages of calamity, or the three stages of natural disaster.

Fourth tier, Witcher.

In this realm, the skin, flesh, tendons, and bones all approach perfection; the body is no longer just a body, but a precious material thoroughly tempered by extraordinary power.

A powerful witcher can use any piece of bone, a drop of blood, or a piece of skin for rituals, forging, and elixirs.

The fifth stage: the suffering traveler.

The body begins to bear all sorts of calamities, and with a wave of the hand, it can trigger changes in nature.

At this stage, strength is no longer just strength; it transforms into a denser, heavier, and more powerful force.

Formerly known as – divine power.

Its power comes from the outside world, and it also governs the outside world.

Sixth tier, Apocalypse Knight.

Receive divine revelation, worship the gods and cultivate yourselves, take control of the gods' authority, and gradually approach the gate of divine revelation.

It represents divine revelation.

It symbolizes the descent of the gods.

The study was very quiet.

The gas lamp flame flickered gently.

Xilun stared at the words "divine revelation" for a long time without turning the page.

This is not the god from the bizarre tales told in taverns.

It is not the saintly image of pity for humanity depicted in church murals.

It is something that truly exists on the extraordinary path.

He continued flipping to the next page.

The seven dukes each received divine revelation and inherited power, thus their descendants possessed exceptional talent, stable bloodlines, and advanced in rank more smoothly than ordinary people.

Xilun's fingers paused slightly.

The Seven Dukes.

He flipped through a few pages and finally found a passage.

Duke of Storms.

Derived from the bloodline of the storm god during the Age of Exploration, they wield the power over storms and turmoil.

Its essence is often manifested in the directions of ocean tides, thunder, hurricanes, and turbulent will. The strong can gain power from chaos and hear revelations from the broken order.

Xiren stared at that page.

storm.

turmoil.

Ocean tide.

thunder.