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UPP - Chapter 85: Mission Center
🕑 Added 2025-04-29 16:41:18 +0000 UTCPrevious Chapter - 84 || Fiction Index || Next Chapter - 86
(Longest chapter yet. XD)
Immersed in relentless training sessions, Nathan barely noticed the passage of time.
Every day he ate, consumed various medicines, and practiced his skills in absorbing lunar energy and food to increase his level. Despite this, his cultivation remained stagnant at Tier 2 Phase 1.3. More disheartening was that his body had reached its threshold for absorbing nutrients; anything additional he consumed was mostly expelled. He felt like he'd returned to where he was over two years ago.
One aspect of this problem troubled him many nights as he stared at his system panel: [Titan's Descendant]. He had relied on it so heavily that he failed to realize it hadn't just enhanced his physical strength but also pushed the limits of his metabolism. Physical Cultivation Tier 2 Phase 7.9 was still there. Yet following his master's instructions, he hadn't increased it further.
Once again, Nathan found himself struggling with cultivation. Fortunately, other aspects of life kept him occupied.
His business had gained momentum, with money steadily flowing in after an initial investment of capital, time, and effort. Orders arrived without pause. His reputation as a top-tier chef continued to spread. Added to this, Celene never stopped running advertisements, linking his image as one of the top 64 from The Shifting Trials to banners and advertising spaces throughout the city.
Since his focus remained on being a cultivator, he didn't cook excessively. Contrary to hindering business, this scarcity increased the price of his wine. Supply couldn't meet demand, hence prices would need to reach the necessary equilibrium point. But this equilibrium faced resistance as many parties recognized the market potential. According to Celene's reports, numerous Alchemists and Herbalists had rented high-level research rooms to dissect Nathan's wine. So they needed to make as much profit as possible now.
Unlike the anxiety of his employees, Nathan felt confident about this revenue stream. These were merely the fruits of his [Cooking] level 2 skill. Level 3 might be even more terrifying. For this reason, representatives from The Amber Path Coalition didn't dare voice many opinions. In some respects, they were shareholders, but they couldn't make demands of a young man. In other situations, the young man might have been someone whose labor could be exploited. But Nathan had proven himself to be a sharp thorn. Rank, talent, and promising potential—he had it all.
Not someone to be trifled with.
Nathan could certainly devote himself entirely to making money. Indeed, he felt tempted to pursue this path, believing he would excel. He had never felt so enthusiastic, energized, and fascinated. Money was no longer an issue for him—a situation he had only dared to dream of. In his recklessness, he had earned enough to live comfortably for life. By the value system he'd grown up with on Earth, he was a successful, admirable person. Viewed this way, it was like an intoxicating wine. Drink more, drink more. Until he forgot his main purpose.
Returning to Earth and his self-worth.
If he continued this negligence, he wouldn't grow stronger. Eating and drinking could help, he'd known this from the beginning. Analyzing the situation, he was self-sustaining his insatiable stomach and core. But it wasn't enough. Not enough quantity. Not enough speed. Not enough intensity.
Time in the two worlds might differ. However, even thousands of years might still be too late.
His second concern was his value and future direction. The Passive System wasn't just meant for him to be a chef. It wanted him to go further. [Cooking] was merely a supplementary aspect. Moreover, when standing among those talented youths, fighting and proving his abilities, he felt alive again, experiencing new things.
He wanted to grow stronger, discover the truth, find a way back home, and perhaps in the meantime, find a place to call his own.
Therefore, he wouldn't confine himself to the kitchen, and he was delighted when Alaric came looking for him.
The sect leader, haggard from being tormented over the past period, had patiently waited for Nathan to finish his cultivation before approaching.
Nathan bowed with a hand gesture showing respect. Though Alaric hadn't presented himself well in front of him, he was still someone Nathan respected. Not for any other reason, but for how he managed Verdant Spire Sect. In other organizations, Nathan wouldn't have been able to hold on for two years. Like Jessica, who was mercilessly expelled after just half a year. Looking at it deeply, without Alaric and his policies, Nathan wouldn't have met Darkan, wouldn't have had the opportunity to become one of the most exemplary individuals of this generation.
Alaric smiled, sat down, rested his hand on the table, and accepted the cup of tea poured by the disciple.
"It's gotta be boring for you, huh?" Alaric's voice was measured, neither heavy nor high-pitched, going straight to the heart. Nathan thought that if Alaric were to narrate audiobooks, he would gladly listen all day.
"To some extent, yes, sect leader."
"No need for such formalities," Alaric waved his hand. "You're Darkan's disciple. To me, that's like being my own disciple. We're all family here."
Nathan was a bit startled. In his impression, although Alaric appeared gentle on the outside, he was still the one sitting highest on the seat of power. His manner of speaking shouldn't be this familiar.
"What's wrong?" Alaric raised an eyebrow. "Or do you think you're so high that I need to flatter you? Is humbling myself like this not enough?"
Sensing the sharpness and sarcasm from the man in the pale green robe opposite him, Nathan smiled. This was more like a crafty old fox.
In a broader sense, once accepting to be 'family,' wouldn't Nathan have to remember this person whenever he achieved anything in the future? But conversely, being cared for by others wasn't too bad.
"I'll follow your guidance, sect leader," Nathan nodded in agreement, letting the matter pass.
"Very good," Alaric's expression became serious. "I'm busy too, can't chat idly with you for long. I came today to inform you that the surveillance around has been completed. You can go outside now."
"Really?" Nathan's eyes brightened.
"All agents have assessed it this way. I've checked it as well. There are no significant issues anymore."
"Significant?" Nathan frowned.
Alaric shook his head and laughed.
"Kid, is there ever a time when risk can be completely eliminated?"
"But..."
"I know what you want to say. Even so, do you plan to stay inside forever?"
Alaric paused to let the question sink in.
"I don't want to scare you," the sect leader continued. "But reality is just like that. Once you become a shining star, eyes will look your way. A bloodline is indeed attractive. However, without it, would you still be safe?"
"No, the cultivator world doesn't operate like that," Nathan replied.
"That's right, it's much more brutal. I know the system from the world you came from. They use the power of words, money, status to control the world. Here, it's just one more method. You're surely smart enough to understand what happens when someone rises, aren't you?"
Nathan recalled lessons from his business class. How large companies swallowed smaller ones and sabotaged them from within. And if they couldn't be bought, they would compete, manipulate to eliminate. A game where the pieces weren't evenly distributed.
"If they can't recruit, they eliminate," Nathan said.
"That's why we need establishments like Verdant Spire Sect," Alaric tapped the table surface, looking into the distance. "Not just to teach, but to protect. When others want to touch you, they'll remember the fortress behind you. Speaking frankly, you now deserve that protection."
But not before, Nathan silently analyzed.
Yet that made sense on many levels, painfully so. When he wasn't worthy of protection, he also couldn't create any waves, couldn't make anyone care. A useless existence.
Nathan smiled bitterly. Unlike the native people of this world whose philosophy had been established since childhood, he still had some resistance from his old self.
"Those 'significant' concerns are thus enough for you to handle yourself," Alaric said gently, no longer adopting a lecturing tone.
"What do I need to do to repay this?" Nathan asked directly, knowing nothing came for free.
"Fulfill the duties of a disciple," Alaric said. "The treatment you've received has already raised objections. Resources consumed were too many. You know. Agents operating within high-level organizations aren't easy to maintain."
Then Alaric stood up, turned toward Nathan, his robe fluttering behind him in graceful arcs. The gaunt face displayed a slight smile.
"We won't force you to do much," Alaric said. "Just contribute steadily. There will be times when the sect needs you. But now, I should go. Speaking with me for this long is a privilege, young man."
"Thanks, well, what should I call you?"
Alaric froze, not understanding.
"Didn't you say I should see you as family?" Nathan crossed his arms. "Should I call family 'sect leader'?"
Hearing this, Alaric clutched his stomach in laughter, his hair shaking with each chuckle.
"Direct like your master, eh? Call me Alaric is enough. After all, your master doesn't like me acting superior with you."
"Thank you, sect leader," Nathan bowed his head, his voice full of solemnity.
Once again, Alaric stiffened, his lips twitching. Then he looked at Nathan with a hint of barely perceptible envy.
"Truly a good seed," he muttered.
As he turned to leave, he placed a piece of paper on the table, slightly larger than the palm of a hand.
"Your protective talisman. Use it when in danger. Darkan spent a great deal on it."
Nathan didn't immediately pick up the item, curiously asking instead.
"Why didn't he give it to me directly?"
Since their encounter in the training chamber, where Darkan had said, "You are one hell of a kid!", he had disappeared without a trace.
Alaric didn't turn back, his shoulders slumping.
"Healing," he said.
"That serious?" Nathan exclaimed, looking toward his master's chamber.
"It shouldn't have been," Alaric shook his head. "But confronting two powerful individuals consecutively, then opposing the spatial tear. Even Darkan couldn't withstand it. Especially in his current condition."
Alaric extended his hand behind him, patting the inner disciple's shoulder, his voice slightly hoarse, unyielding yet tinged with melancholy.
"You see why you must go out now? Your path has been laid. Why wait any longer?"
When Nathan looked back, Alaric had vanished, leaving only swaying leaves falling.
A few days after failing to establish contact with Darkan, Nathan went to Verdant Spire Sect's Mission Center.
Alaric's words still echoed in his mind. He needed to repay what the Sect had done for him.
Moreover, after a few days of analysis, Nathan judged this to be the safest bet for him. True, there were risks when going outside as well as inherent characteristics of the missions, but the danger would be at its lowest. And it would prepare him for The Ultimate Prize.
Alaric's small stream and Verdant Spire.
To re-enter that stream, he needed to contribute enough, accumulate Contribution Points to a certain level to propose this matter. Though Direct Disciple was considered a high position, the rule of no gain without effort still applied. Otherwise, Verdant Spire Sect wouldn't be a crowded place attracting young people to register as disciples.
He aimed for Verdant Spire because, according to Zeryn, this treasure was something unusual. No one could be sure what they would receive when entering it. Verdant Spire could give a person what they needed in cultivation. For Zeryn, it was a breakthrough in Sword Intent. Hearing this, Nathan thought about his Mana Aspect problem and slow cultivation speed. If truly effective, he would solve the complex puzzle of which he had only found a small piece.
Curious gazes fixed on him as he stood with crossed arms in the waiting hall. Information about him was already being discussed extensively on PsiLink. He didn't even dare to check the comments. There would surely be disparaging remarks even though the commenters couldn't achieve what he had. Celene, as his employee and manager, always reminded him not to get itchy fingers and go up there.
Nathan wasn't accustomed to this attention. He was proud of how far he had come, but only wanted to continue advancing in silence.
The AI continuously displayed suitable missions for him to read. Currently, all individual missions had been taken, leaving only less noteworthy ones.
He tried selecting the 'Open for invite' option first, then looked for missions requiring a team. A mission to harvest some monster cores in Moirath Forest interested him. So he selected it and put it up on the feed for other disciples to choose whether to participate or not.
After half an hour of this, he couldn't help but frown in confusion. Having no one choose to cooperate wasn't strange. The problem was that not even a single message had been sent to him.
Are they afraid of being pursued by someone high-ranking? he wondered.
Regarding abilities, he believed he wasn't inferior to anyone. He had just proven himself at The Shifting Trials. And even if not using that ranking, his role as a chef who could support everyone should be attractive enough to receive attention.
Now, he looked around, dismayed to discover that everyone was standing quite far away, creating a space around him.
"Someone's looking for trouble again," he muttered.
Decisively no longer looking at the mission board, he waited. This action couldn't come from an individual, but was the result of a group. Or more accurately, multiple groups.
Though much time had passed, he still remembered Zeryn's warning. The inner sect was a place of fierce contention. Alaric could only ensure no murders occurred, but competition and rivalry were inevitable. Sometimes leading to hatred, but that was precisely the foundation for an individual's rise.
Curious disciples also stopped to see what would happen. The waiting hall suddenly became more tense.
Just as Nathan was reaching his limit, several individuals finally stepped forward. He narrowed his eyes in assessment. There were six people, evenly divided between three men and three women. All had cultivation levels higher than his. Since reaching Tier 2, he had tried using his spirit more frequently. Though he couldn't guess with certainty, he still had a general idea.
"Nathan," a tall, sturdy young man extended his arms in a welcoming gesture, "we've been waiting for you for a long time."
"Speak your name," Nathan said in a demanding tone.
The person was taken aback. His eyelids half-closed, his smile slowly fading.
"That's not the way to talk to a Senior," the joy had vanished.
"I'm a direct disciple," Nathan didn't back down. "Don't teach me how to talk."
The atmosphere turned cold. The other five people similarly received the message from the exchange.
Nathan wasn't a soft persimmon, to be shaped however they pleased.
"Erza," a girl tilted her head and laughed loudly, "how undignified. Are you going to let this upstart treat you this way?"
"Zip it, Tianyue," Erza scowled. "You don't need to add more poison."
Tianyue feigned a shudder, hugging her shoulders in pretend fear.
"Quite a tough guy," a male disciple with a pale face, thin to the point of skin and bones, said to Nathan.
"Can break your bone in a heartbeat," Nathan smiled in response. "Thanks for the compliment!"
"The name is Silas," the skinny young man exaggeratedly bowed his head, "Mr. Direct Disciple."
"At ease, Silas. No need to be so formal."
Silas's facial features contorted, making him look even more bizarre than before.
"So, can you all get to the point, or do you want to continue this verbal sparring?" Nathan spread his arms asking, truly tired of these childish antics.
A female disciple with an upright posture, one hand behind her back, her hair tied in a high bun with gold-plated clips, stepped forward. She carried a cane in her hand. Now she tapped it down with a clop sound, her chin slightly raised, her straight nose quivering as her thin lips uttered the words of a superior.
"Nathan Reed. I've come to invite you to join my faction. The faction of Liora Kastellian."
That name rang out with pride and dignity. Yet it fell on Nathan's ears as mere muffled sounds. Having stood among the brightest talents like Lachlan, Zhanyu, and Adrian, he was somewhat immune to those who used their status.
"I'll pass," he said curtly.
A wave of laughter erupted from around, except from one person. This made Liora grip her cane tightly, glaring at Nathan. Before she could say anything, another girl interrupted.
"I'm Quinn of the third mountain."
The sword-wielding girl with dark circles under her eyes, still wearing armor, came forward.
"I want to invite you to my faction," she continued.
The others all dropped their faces, wanting to speak but were cut off by Nathan's loud voice.
"So what do I get?"
"Our support," Erza said, bringing back his harmonious smile. "You'll have teammates for missions outside. Higher success rate. Higher contribution points too. We'll make you the best you can be."
"Better than now?" Nathan glanced around. "Even with Null Resonance?"
No one spoke further, making Nathan inwardly smile. This wasn't how he should be treated. He felt slightly irritated at having to face such situations repeatedly. It became repetitive.
If not for Null Resonance, these people wouldn't dare touch a hair on his head, let alone stand there intimidating him like this.
"Let me guess," he said. "If I don't accept, you'll obstruct me like you're doing now? I won't be able to take any missions? Aren't you all overestimating yourselves?"
"You're the one overestimating yourself," Tianyue crossed her arms and said scornfully. "Or do you think you can be like Zeryn, living without caring about us?"
"Ahem," Silas coughed once. "Don't give him ideas. He might go back to hide behind that damned sword bastard."
Nathan smirked. Zeryn must have heard about this by now. If he hadn't appeared yet, he was either busy cultivating or wanted Nathan to face this himself. And Nathan thought the latter was more likely.
"Newcomers live the way newcomers should," Liora explained. "Why do you think you don't have to go through the same steps as them? Don't say it's because you're a direct disciple. Except for the incompetent Erza, we're all on the same level as you."
"You..." Erza pointed a finger.
"Oh, shut up!" Liora scolded, with a look of disgust. "If not for Darius stepping down, would you even be here to scold others?"
Erza gritted his teeth, blue veins popping up on his forehead. Unable to refute, he turned to Nathan.
"Make your choice," he growled.
"Tell me your price," Nathan smiled mischievously. "In a way, I feel quite flattered by your pursuit."
"Who's pursuing you," Erza scolded. "More accurately..."
"You give me the stone you received," Quinn stepped forward to speak first.
"Being a chef is enough," Silas nodded.
"A small membership fee is fine," Liora said.
Nathan felt his ears buzzing, inwardly cursing a group of shameless people.
He produced the Convergium, the stone Duke Kael had compensated him with from his spatial ring.
The eyes of those around all lit up, their breath stopping. Quinn's sword-holding hand even trembled. To increase the dramatic effect, he also brought out the horn of the Lava Drake. The temperature around instantly rose.
The two treasures in his hand made everyone breathe heavily.
"How about my offer," Nathan said. "My ass would be enough, don't you think?"
Cold gazes shot at him, but he paid no mind. He put away all the items. It wasn't that he couldn't join a faction, but at least they needed to show sincerity. These youngsters hadn't understood how to operate. This point was far inferior to the talents at The Shifting Trials. They focused too much on immediate benefits. Just the fact that he could cook to benefit their Affinity should have been enough for these people to humble themselves.
He had to remember the advice he had given Celene. Don't undersell yourself anymore. Doing so would only create precedents. Especially the honor he had regained from the incident with Nalani taking away his slot for The Shifting Trials would be for nothing.
By establishing his position today, allies would come to him tomorrow. He had time for this.
Quinn was the first to withdraw. Like a machine, not getting what she wanted, she decisively turned and left. Only five people remained in the courtyard, still eyeing each other.
"Piss off," Nathan sneered. "Don't waste my time here."
"Or what," Erza laughed in his loud voice. "You'll go back to hide behind Elder Darkan? Or will you tremble like a scared puppy behind Zeryn? We all saw your performance at Maelivar square."
Laughter erupted among the crowd, some pointing, others leaning, especially those near Erza. Other groups just covered their mouths and chuckled quietly.
Nathan sighed, indeed a group of young people who liked to show off.
He pointed at Erza.
"I issue a challenge to Erza Orlov."
The laughter stopped abruptly.
A person appeared in front of Nathan. The inner sect elder, Tier 3, with a rigid face, looked down from above.
"A challenge has been issued," he announced. "Erza Orlov, do you accept?"
All eyes turned to the person who had caused trouble with Nathan. The protagonist swallowed hard, still not daring to act.
"You think you can say whatever you want?" Nathan's voice was sharp. "Surely you're not that stupid? We should even praise you for forcing me to take action."
Nathan mockingly clapped. But no one joined in, instead feeling heavier.
He couldn't let others see him as someone who could be bent at will. Today, everyone needed to know to stay away from him.
Under the pressure of all, Erza stepped forward, his dark eyes showing some instability. Nathan's terrifying abilities had been displayed at The Shifting Trials. If it were him, he wouldn't even believe he could go that far.
"The Phase level difference is too great," the elder spoke up, hoping to stop this. "Do you want to change the conditions?"
"No need," Nathan waved his hand. "Standard condition."
Erza nodded in agreement, not fully understanding that he was already at a disadvantage to Nathan by doing so.
Afterward, both moved to a training ground adjacent to the Mission Center.
Word of the battle spread quickly throughout the sect. Everyone abandoned their training to gather and watch. There was even a live broadcast on PsiLink for all to see.
Nathan stood calmly on the brick floor, not overly concerned.
His opponent, however, kept looking around. Erza was already at Tier 2 Phase 8. If he didn't win this fight, his image would collapse immediately. His faction would be destroyed. He saw the mocking smiles of the other leaders and felt a chill. They had discussed Nathan vigorously, with confrontation being the most mentioned option. But when it came to battle, they only prodded from the outside, not insulting to an irreparable extent. Because they knew Erza would do that.
Thinking this far, Erza bit his teeth harder. He was just a newly promoted leader replacing Darius, too eager to prove himself, only to be placed in this situation.
"Ready?" the elder spoke up.
"Yes, elder," both answered.
"Then begin. Absolutely stop at the right moment."
Triggered [Amplifying Strike]. One credit given.
Triggered [Flowing Strikes]. One credit given.
A bang, a whoosh.
Erza saw a set of claws about to grab his face after just a blink. He exploded fire at his feet to shoot himself upward, spun around, and landed. His eyes trembled as he faced the disciple from the ninth mountain.
Spectators all took a deep breath, too surprised by the speed just now. Even they couldn't keep up with that movement.
The faction leaders were more contemplative. They knew how Nathan had just operated, but absolutely couldn't have expected it to create such a strong effect.
Nathan smiled, standing up straight. His movement just now wasn't just due to Physical Cultivation but also combined with mana projection through Spirit Cultivation. The two forces overlapping in his legs propelled him forward at an unimaginable speed.
Erza took out a spear from his spatial ring. Fire flared up around it as mana was pumped in. He roared once, charging to attack.
A swing from top to bottom created a wall of fire, spreading toward Nathan.
Seeing his opponent easily dodge, Erza repeatedly swung his spear, creating bright fire slashes on the battle floor.
Nathan, with speed enhanced by mana, moved like a ghost, without any flashiness.
Erza roared in frustration, pushing fire down to his feet like an engine, deciding to engage in close combat.
Wrong choice, Nathan thought silently.
Disapproving head shakes from faction leaders and commentary made Erza increasingly irritated. He specialized in close combat. His opponent also specialized in close combat. What else could he do?
A pure white sphere formed in Nathan's hand. He swung it forward, hitting the body of his opponent's spear.
Erza smiled, not giving this skill much thought. Simply because his mana was superior, plus he had a mana shield and armor.
But the result made him widen his eyes in shock. The sphere exploded, pushing him backward, and he struck his spear into the ground to prevent falling.
Just now, that sphere hadn't just exploded once, but up to three times.
Most importantly, Nathan was sending a warning that even in ranged combat, Erza had no chance. Only when that had sunk in did Nathan wave his hand, forming a mana sword through his pinched thumb and middle finger. White light flashed, reflecting in everyone's eyes.
"Nathan practices sword?" someone in the crowd asked.
"There's no information about this. At most, he just swings around a bit for show."
"So what's happening?"
Nathan pointed his sword to one side, then moved his hand in an arc. Six floating swords were conjured. He smiled and jumped into close combat with his opponent.
Clanging sounds and sparks flew as the two clashed. Fire from the spear and heat scorched the ground. Steam rose, blurring the images.
Erza was silently cursing. He was confident in his martial arts with the spear, which had allowed him to climb to this position. Yet his attack patterns were all read by his opponent without a single opening. He sometimes even felt he was being given chances. Because there were moments when one of those swords could have pierced his vulnerable spots.
Erza acknowledged this but couldn't just retreat. He spun his spear, creating a vortex, pushing his opponent away.
Nathan flipped in the air, pointing his hand forward. Six white swords shot forward rapidly. Erza quickly deflected them all.
"Let me make this easy for you," Nathan smirked. "One more exchange. If you're still standing, then we'll end it here. How's that?"
"Arrogant bastard," Erza roared, fire flaring around him.
"Or we can continue like this. Your choice."
Glancing around, Erza nodded.
"Fine! Don't lose and then make excuses!"
Having said that, Erza positioned his spear parallel to the ground, his legs in a low stance, firmly planted. Fire spread from his body as mana burned. It gradually wrapped around the spear shaft, creeping up to the tip.
"Blazing Dragon!" Erza roared.
Steam rose around, creating a misty veil surrounding Nathan. He stood straight, legs relaxed, the white sword created from mana still maintained. He raised his weapon. The two tips touched.
A shock wave along with energy arcs spread around, blowing the clothes of the disciples. When they could rub their eyes to reduce the sting and look up, they marveled endlessly.
Both sides were standing still under a balanced force. Nathan's seemingly thin, weak sword didn't shatter but remained firm. It was solidly withstanding Erza's spear.
Everyone was silent, waiting for the outcome.
Erza couldn't believe his eyes. Sweat dripped into his eyes, increasing the bitterness in his heart. He cursed whoever said Null Resonance would be weak, would be easy prey.
Nathan smiled. The power disparity between them had reached this point. Normally, he wouldn't be able to fight further, but he had Physical Cultivation. When both sides were at this stalemate, physical strength would determine everything.
He pushed his hand forward with explosive force in his arm and passive skill.
Erza's spear bent upward, eventually with a buzzing sound flying backward. Erza's hand tried to hold on, suffering the full impact, similarly toppling backward, hand bracing against the ground.
Erza's face was haggard, pale. He swallowed hard, fearfully looking at the person who had just dispelled his white sword.
"Well?" Nathan asked.
"I concede," Erza shook his head.
Nathan stepped forward, looking around so his words weren't just for Erza.
"Remember today that you lost to someone using Null Resonance. Someone who didn't even use a weapon but pure mana. Someone without armor. You lost to such a person. Remember that when you dare to come to me again."
The five faction leaders all pressed their lips tightly, recognizing a mistake made today. This one was indeed the next Zeryn, who wouldn't be controlled by anyone.
Erza wobbled to his feet, retrieved his spear, and dejectedly walked off the battle arena.
"He's gonna slip," Nathan narrowed his eyes and muttered.
Triggered [Bad Juju]. One credit given.
Erza was suddenly affected by some strange force that truly made his whole body fall forward, crashing to the ground toward Tianyue. He was slapped, flying to one side. Erza grimaced as he stood up, looking around as laughter erupted. His honor today was completely lost. His leadership position was shaken to the point of collapse.
Nathan smiled from the arena, pleased to have successfully intimidated everyone.
At the same time, he was even more delighted when a team-up request from Gideon, whom he had defeated in the Outer Sect Tournament, and applied a new skill from the system's [Fusion] Module into a real-life scenario.
[Bad Juju]
Description: Your curses have a very small chance to materialize.
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Comments
Triopals
Oh yes. Alaric, the leader in debt. XD
Triopals
Hehe. That's a possibility. I can share the same vision as yours.
GhostlyVulture
World braking things XD, wonder what would happen if he got lucky and gave a really bad curse to some op guy
GhostlyVulture
Little thing I caught “ call me Alaric is enough”
