The room in Verdant Flame Tavern was quiet. Still.
Candles flickered softly, their flames casting long shadows against the worn wooden walls. Outside, distant laughter echoed from the lower floors—but inside, only silence reigned.
Yanwei sat alone.
The robe he used to mask his identity lay discarded on the floor, damp with sweat. His chest rose and fell slowly, deliberately, as if to calm the storm that still raged within him.
To those watching back at the pavilion, his retreat had looked calm—arrogant, even. A final act of control. A silent declaration: You cannot touch me.
But they didn't know the truth.
That every step he took outside that door had been a gamble.
That behind his stillness… he had been holding his breath.
That behind his confident escape… was the uncertainty of whether Tyr, Velurya, or one of those nameless watchers in the dark might act the moment he moved.
He didn't even know if that old appraiser on stage—the one who calmly evaluated each item, eyes like still water—was a friend, a foe, or simply neutral.
And so he ran.
Not out of panic. Not out of shame.
But because he knew better.
"I knew that as long as I stayed inside that pavilion, my safety was in danger," Yanwei thought.
"Yes, fighting in there is illegal. Even inside the market, it's forbidden. But that's exactly the problem. If I stayed too long, Tyr would've had time to use his status—maybe not to strike, but to wait. To have someone outside the pavilion. Or worse… outside the city."
"And I couldn't afford that. It's not like I could live in that building forever."
"But now that I've already left, he has no time to call his sect. He doesn't even know if I've left the market at all. Unless he's truly obsessed… he'd be gambling just to post people at the gate, hoping I haven't slipped past already."
A faint smile tugged at Yanwei's lips.
He hadn't gotten everything he wanted tonight.
But three out of four?
That was close enough.
"Ninety percent's still a passing score."
"But now I have to find Tideglass, so I can finally elevate my level."
The smile lingered at the corners of his lips, but the sharp crease between his brows hadn't faded.
No one knew what he was truly feeling—or thinking.
"Tsk. Being Rank 1 fucking sucks. Too weak."
Yanwei reached into his ring and took out the three glowing stones, turning them over in his fingers thoughtfully.
They were too beautiful—he almost wanted to add them straight to his collection.
But devouring couldn't be use to breakthrough.
He still had plans for the essence of those Rank 1 cultivators—their blood, muscle, and spirit combined.
Back at Moonlit Pavilion, the atmosphere had shifted into something strange—something hard to name.
Was it joy? Boredom? Fear? Stillness?
No one could say for sure.
There wasn't much talking anymore. The only voices heard were that of the auction host and the occasional bidder. Even then, most of the recent items hadn't been particularly breathtaking—or at least, not in the eyes of people like Yanwei and the foreigners in attendance.
But to the average Rank 1 cultivator seated inside?
Each item was a treasure. A chance. A step forward.
Still, the tension hung in the air, as if the pavilion itself was holding its breath.
And then—Xu Yanlue smiled.
Finally.
The moment she had been waiting for was about to arrive.
No, it wasn't that she was excited for the final item. It was because this auction—long and far more stressful than she'd anticipated—was almost over. She had expected some sparks, yes… but only from those she recognized.
Not from some unknown outsider.
Still, she kept her composure, and her voice rang out:
"Now then… the item everyone's been waiting to see is finally here!"
Excitement stirred.
She turned to the old appraiser and gave a nod.
He returned it silently.
Then, with a small cough, the old man stepped forward. His back straightened ever so slightly, as though he were preparing to shout to the heavens.
A quiet pride glimmered in his eyes—as if he were about to present not an item, but a legacy.
With careful hands, he peeled away the thick cloth covering the pedestal.
The moment the blanket was removed, the crowd seemed to lean forward all at once. Murmurs rose. The still, uncertain air from before was swept away like dust in a storm.
Smiles broke across faces. Eager. Hungry. Expectant.
Every eye in the pavilion locked onto the stage.
"This," the old appraiser declared, his voice ringing with aged pride, "is Emberweave Sutra. An ancient fire-based technique—subtle, refined. Not domineering, but deeply rooted in fire's essence."
He paused for effect, letting the weight of the words settle.
"Only those with talent aligned with fire affinity can cultivate it."
That one sentence was enough to throw the entire venue into a quiet uproar.
Confused whispers broke out like scattered sparks.
"What the hell is talent aligned with fire affinity? I've never heard of that!"
Another voice followed quickly. A woman frowned, arms crossed, tone laced with skepticism.
"Right? I've never heard of it either. My clan only ever spoke of five tiers: low, middle, high, extreme, and heavenly talent. Affinity was just… a preference. Sure, I have a cousin who's decent at water techniques—learns them faster than the rest of us—but it's not like she breaks realms faster. Her peers with the same talent tier still outpace her."
Someone else leaned forward, whispering loudly enough for others to hear.
"Exactly. That's how it is with my cousin too. He has better water alignment, but I still reached Rank 1 late stage before him."
The murmurs deepened. Heads turned. Eyebrows furrowed.
The confusion in the room spread like wildfire.
They weren't angry.
They were lost.
Yuze, sitting in silence near the back, resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
These shitheads are really something else… he thought, barely hiding his sneer. How the hell does this place even function? They're so isolated, they've never even heard of something as basic as elemental affinity talent… something considered common knowledge in Skyheart Enclave.
He glanced briefly toward Tyr.
Tch. No point ranting now.
Tyr's mood was already foul. The last thing Yuze wanted was to attract his irritation. If he spoke up, that annoyance might just turn in his direction.
So he let out a long sigh instead—and kept his mouth shut.
For now.
Some in the crowd had already started connecting dots.
"Is that… what that guy earlier mentioned?" one of them whispered. "Second talent… is this it?"
The old man on stage nodded slightly, almost as if he heard their thoughts.
"I can see many of you are confused about this elemental affinity I mentioned," he said, voice steady, seasoned. "Truth is, it's not limited to just elements. There are many types of affinity—some tied to fire, water, wind… others tied to more obscure, even legendary traits that have nothing to do with elements."
He paused, letting the murmurs grow.
"This is what's commonly known as a second talent. Most of you already know about the five tiers of cultivation talent—low, middle, high, extreme, and heavenly. That's correct. But what many of you don't know… is that there's another layer entirely."
The room stilled again.
"Second talent is something you're born with. You either have it or you don't. And most of the world's great cultivators? They have it. That's not a coincidence."
His gaze swept over the room.
"And yes—it's rare. So rare, in fact, that those who are aware of it often wish they could be reborn just to have one. Some fanatics have even taken their own lives, fantasizing they might be granted a second talent in the next life. It sounds insane—but I can't really blame them."
He took a breath, then said firmly:
"Because this changes fate."
"Even if you're born with no cultivation talent at all—not even in the five tiers—if you have a second talent, you still have a future. All you need is a technique that's compatible with it."
His words lingered like embers.
"In fact, not every paragon was born with heavenly-tier talent. That's a joke. But what many of them do have in common—is a second talent."
He paused there, letting the weight of that truth settle into the crowd like a spark waiting to ignite.