Early the next morning, Lynn Ling came to the inn to find Quinn Shepherd and bid him farewell.
She was just as before, arranging her hair at her temples to make her cheeks look slimmer. Sitting across from Quinn, she ordered a pot of tea, her eyes bright as she said, "The Great Ruins is a poor place, not fit for long-term stay. What you've seen here is just a remote, desolate world. Only by leaving the Great Ruins can you witness the vastness outside. Out there, spells and divine abilities evolve day by day. The Imperial Preceptor and the emperor of Everpeace have the ambition and power to usher in a new era. Right now, the empire's techniques are undergoing a great revolution! You have courage and potential—I don't want you to waste your life in this backwater. Though I'm a girl, I intend to accomplish something great. If you're willing to leave with me, we can set out today."
Quinn was taken aback. Go with this girl to the Everpeace Empire?
He did want to leave the Great Ruins and train outside—the Ruins were far too dangerous, and he simply wasn’t strong enough to explore them yet. Even someone like Village Chief hadn’t traversed the entire Great Ruins.
He needed training and experience.
People from outside the Great Ruins came here to train, but he wanted to go out and train in the wider world. Lynn Ling’s invitation was truly tempting.
Even though the Imperial Preceptor wanted to rule the Great Ruins and occupy it, Quinn didn’t resent him. In fact, he admired the Imperial Preceptor.
The Imperial Preceptor could bring about such sweeping change, absorb other sects, create new supreme arts, and push the advancement of spells and divine abilities. That kind of vision and talent deserved respect.
He wanted to see the new era forged by such an extraordinary person, to witness the birth of new supreme arts.
"Where do you live?" Quinn asked.
"The capital," Lynn Ling replied.
Quinn thought for a moment, then smiled. "The capital of Everpeace—I’ll definitely go. You head back first, and when I arrive, I’ll look for you."
Lynn Ling frowned. "You’re not coming with me?"
Quinn rubbed his forehead awkwardly. "My family’s elders are strict. I have to pass their tests before I can leave home. I’ve got nine elders, and I have to clear nine trials before they’ll let me go out and train."
Lynn Ling was startled. "Even with your abilities you can’t pass their tests?"
She found it hard to believe. Quinn had killed Terry Fu with a single stroke—truly impressive. Terry was Dragoncrest City’s top fighter, and while being first in Dragoncrest didn’t mean much in the empire, Quinn’s strength was already outstanding for the Spirit Embryo realm. In her eyes, he’d easily rank in the top ten.
Yet even with that kind of skill, he still couldn’t pass his elders’ tests?
"My family’s rules are pretty strict."
Quinn said sheepishly, "I have to clear all nine trials before I’m considered an adult, but so far I haven’t even passed the first."
"Then I’ll wait for you in the capital. By the way, Yan Frontier is guarded by viewing mirrors—if you pass through there, be careful."
Lynn Ling stood up, about to head out, then paused and smiled slyly. "I gave you a scented handkerchief—aren’t you going to give me something in return?"
Quinn hurriedly searched himself but couldn’t find anything worth giving. After thinking it over, he took the big iron hammer off his back and handed it to her.
Lynn Ling couldn’t help but laugh, biting her lip. "You’re giving a girl a big iron hammer?"
Quinn scratched his head, then took off his butcher’s knife, bamboo staff, ink and brush, and even offered a pouch of Dragoncrest coins. "Pick whatever you like..." he mumbled.
"Forget it, forget it. I’ll just take the big iron hammer."
Lynn Ling sighed, hefted the hammer, and walked out of the inn. Outside, a crowd of spellcasters flanked the entrance. General Quentin Shaw held the reins of a fine horse, and when he saw Lynn Ling come out carrying the hammer, he stared in surprise but didn’t ask questions. He quickly said, "The riverboat is ready. Please mount up, Seventh Princess!"
Lynn Ling swung onto the horse, winked at the dumbfounded Quinn in the inn, and stuck out her tongue.
Quinn was stunned. "You, you..." he stammered.
"I’m the fat Seventh Young Master you kept talking about! Cowherd, see you in the capital!"
Lynn Ling laughed, her voice like a silver bell. She rode off, one hand swinging the iron hammer, the other cracking her riding whip.
Quinn was stunned, clutching the scented handkerchief, speechless. General Quentin Shaw waved for the Everpeace spellcasters to hurry after Lynn Ling, then glanced into the inn and sat down across from Quinn, fixing him with a piercing gaze. "Your surname is Qin?" he asked.
Quinn steadied himself, pushing aside the shock that Lynn Ling was actually the ‘fat Seventh Young Master,’ and nodded. "General, your surname is Qin too. I heard people call you Little General Qin."
"The world is vast. There are plenty of people with the surname Qin."
General Quentin Shaw poured himself tea, his tone cool. "Some people are born low, destined to be poor. Others are born high, destined for wealth. A surname means nothing. You may be a Qin, but you’re an outcast—a wretch from the Great Ruins. Don’t get any ideas above your station, little brother. You can’t reach what’s out of your grasp." With that, he drained his tea, left a gold ingot, and strode out of the inn.
"Little General Qin, I don’t understand what you’re saying."
Quinn got up and walked out of the inn. The innkeeper hurried out and bowed. "Young master, are you heading home?"
General Quentin Shaw paused, thinking the innkeeper was addressing him, but realized the bow was for Quinn.
"No need for such courtesy in front of outsiders."
Quinn waved the innkeeper off, then swept his gaze around Dragoncrest City—vast and grand, its towers rising above bustling streets, thriving in prosperity.
This was his domain.
He strode toward the City Lord’s Manor. At the gambling house, a cluster of burly men bowed low. "Young master!"
Passing the brothel, the madam and her daughters curtseyed in perfect unison. "Young master!"
He walked past bookshops, flower markets, vegetable stalls, butcher’s shops, taverns, antique dealers, potters, apothecaries, blacksmiths, and weapon merchants. One after another, their proprietors emerged and bowed low to him.
"Young master!"
"Young master!"
"Young master!"
...
General Quentin Shaw’s brow furrowed as he watched Quinn’s procession through Dragoncrest, all the way to the City Lord’s Manor. The great gates swung open, and Felix Fu strode out, laughter booming as he greeted Quinn. He barked at his attendants, "Blind fools! Why haven’t you greeted the young master yet?"
The spellcasters guarding the gate dropped into deep bows, their voices thunderous: "Young master!"
"From now on, this entire city belongs to our family!" Felix Fu laughed, leading Quinn inside the manor.
General Quentin Shaw's frown deepened, unable to fathom what had happened here or why Felix Fu could treat his son's killer so warmly, as if Terry Fu were not his son, but Quinn Shepherd was.
He was even more baffled at how Quinn had managed to win Felix Fu's favor so thoroughly.
"A wild rustic, fit only to rule the streets—never to ascend the halls of power," he muttered.
He turned to leave, but as he reached the city gate, his body suddenly stiffened. The realization struck him, and he spun around, staring in disbelief at the City Lord’s Manor at the end of the main avenue.
"Heaven-Forging Demon Art! Cult Mistress!" he exclaimed.
Steeling himself, he turned away. "Felix Fu is dead—flayed alive. The Felix Fu in this city is the Heavenly Demon Cult’s Cult Mistress! Dragoncrest City has changed hands. Felix Fu’s spellcasters must have been replaced—all of them are now Cult adepts. The whole city belongs to the Cult! Good thing the Imperial Preceptor was stopped by that great ship—otherwise..."
A chill ran down his spine. The Cult Mistress wore Felix Fu’s skin; if Everpeace’s army had entered the city, she and her allies could have simply destroyed the dragon pillars, letting the darkness devour the imperial forces in an instant, crippling the empire and perhaps destroying it forever!
He glanced back at Dragoncrest City—its master had changed. This was no longer a place for him or Everpeace to command.
This city now bore the name Qin—but it was Quinn Shepherd’s Qin, not his own.