A Waste of Time

Chapter 128: Interim Riddle

The man who guided Daemon to the slave quarters introduced himself with a broad grin. “Name’s Ah Niu,” he said, voice carrying the weight of scars and years, yet oddly cheerful. “Sorry to put you straight to work, lad. No rest for us down here.”

Not long after, Daemon was already part of the rhythm. He carried crates stacked high with vegetables and grains, split firewood with clean, even strikes, and hauled bucket after bucket of water from the well to fill the great cauldrons steaming in the kitchens.

Everywhere he went—whether balancing loads on his shoulders or darting through the narrow alleys between stone halls—he moved quick, efficient, never wasting breath or motion. To the watching slaves, he seemed stronger than an ox, yet quieter than one too.

The boy who wore the black-and-white robe worked as though he had always belonged here.

One of them, a wiry man with long scars across his arms, spoke first. “So, you’re the boy. The one who took down Qi Ying. The one they say fought Elders and lived.”

“Is it true?” another asked, this one a girl with cropped hair and lean muscle. “You really that strong?”

The room grew quiet, everyone waiting.

Daemon smiled faintly but shook his head. “I’ve been through a lot these past weeks. I’d rather rest, if you don’t mind.”

They blinked at his politeness, then nodded. “Fair enough,” the wiry man said. “You’ve already done more in minutes than what takes ten of us hours. Rest while you can.”

Daemon found himself a secluded corner in the back, away from the others. Sitting down cross-legged, he lowered his eyes.

So… this is where I stand. A slave. But my body…

He clenched his fists, feeling the deep thrum beneath his skin. Suppressed for too long, sealed under chains, all his accumulated strength remained bottled. His physique should have already broken into Tier-1, yet it was still shackled at Tier-0.

A faint smile touched his lips. I guess it’s about time. There’s no more silver needles and copper tubes sucking my blood dry. Let’s see what I really am when nothing holds me back.

In his mind, the gem awaited him. Rhodolite Red, luminous, alive. Its glow pulsed with warmth, calling to him—inviting him to finally accept and allow its shine into his body.

Daemon closed his eyes. And let go.

Once Daemon willed the gem to sink into his body, the world seemed to shift.

A pressure fell over the slave-quarters. The usually bustling kitchens, alive with clangs of pots and shouts of labor, grew suddenly silent. Every sound died mid-breath, every hand stilled mid-task. For a heartbeat, even their chests refused to rise.

And all eyes turned.

There, on the stump of the tree he had felled earlier, Daemon sat cross-legged, his small frame haloed in light.

Nine distinct points across his body glowed, each one shining with its own color. The radiance was impossible to ignore.

“Are those…” someone whispered, his voice thin with awe.

“Yeah… the Nine Stars Realm of Body-Refinement.” Another replied, equally hushed, as if louder words might provoke the boy and bring ruin upon them all.

“Shhh! Quiet!” A third panicked, pressing a finger to his lips, though the sharp hiss was louder than the whispers themselves—until a trembling hand muffled him.

The wiry man with scars dragged a palm down his arm, fingers grazing old wounds as nerves stirred. “Nine acupoints, all glowing… is he really a Ninth-Star Body-Refiner?”

The cropped-haired girl tucked a stray lock behind her ear, eyes locked on Daemon’s shining frame. “Then it’s true. The rumors of him standing against Elder Ping… they weren’t lies.”

The nine lights burned brighter, flickering with a rhythm that seemed to seize their very heartbeats, slowing them to match its pulse.

White Star-Glabella

Green Star-Heart

Red Star-Right Hand

Blue Star-Left Hand

Silver Star-Right Foot

Gold Star-Left Foot

Cyan Star-Right Thigh

Purple Star-Left Thigh

Black Star-Dantian

Every flicker was a drumbeat. Every shimmer pressed deeper into their souls.

Then the green light flared.

From Daemon’s chest, from the flickering Heart-Star, their vision was pulled into illusion. They saw a heart suspended in endless void, pumping, bursting, spraying torrents of blood. Rivers poured downward like crimson waterfalls, streaming endlessly into the abyss.

And far below—there, in the center of that dark ocean—they saw it.

A palace.

Grey stone, crumbling, half-faded. It flickered in and out of existence, as though barely holding on against the weight of despair, but it endured. An island floating in a sea of endless nothing, fighting to remain.

His First Palace…

The thought burned in the minds of those who knew. The step beyond the Nine Stars Realm—the Eight-Palaces Realm.But none dared to speak it aloud. None dared to breathe too heavily. Each slave was transfixed, terrified that even the faintest sound, the smallest twitch, might draw the abyss toward them and swallow them whole.

At the same time Daemon was breaking through in the slave quarters of Ten-Thousand Beasts Mountain, his clones—scattered far across the land—were struck by the echo of his transformation.

Ippo, in the Burning Dawn Dynasty’s Capital, and Kai, only a few thousand kilometers away in Flood-Dragon City, both froze mid-step. Their stomachs clenched, growling with such force it felt as though their bodies would collapse if not fed immediately. Whatever the true body was enduring, it demanded fuel, and through the link, both clones were dragged into the same primal hunger.

Kai abandoned all restraint. In the open-air market, he spent the last of his coin in a frenzy, buying food from every stall he could reach. Steamed buns, roasted meats, baskets of fruit—he devoured them all, sometimes before the vendors had even finished cooking. More than once, he demanded food raw, bloody and dripping. The sight turned heads, leaving onlookers pale.

But Lin Qiu, standing at his side, only sighed. She knew this boy, and she knew his true body. Neither acted without reason, and if Kai was eating like a starving beast, then it was necessary. She threw her cloak around him, shielding his messy, ravenous meal from prying eyes, matching his attire so he didn’t stand out more than he already did.

And still, despite his strangeness, he had made her journey unforgettable.

What should have been weeks of grueling roads and sleepless nights had instead become a string of breathtaking moments. With his Teleportation ability, Kai carried her across mountains, lakes, forests, and ruins in the blink of an eye. From the summit of a snowcapped peak, the next instant she would find herself standing at the edge of a glassy lake deep in a forest. One moment she looked down at the world from atop a cliff, and the next she stood among the shattered stones of an ancient ruin hidden in a canyon. The sights blurred together into a treasure of memories—too many, too quickly.

Of course, she had suffered for it. The first few times, her body reeled with nausea, and she vomited until her chest ached. But Kai had been patient. He always stopped when she was pale and trembling, hunted beasts to feed her, gathered herbs to ease her headaches, and set camp when she couldn’t travel further. Slowly, she adapted. The sickness gave way to awe, and awe to joy.

Now, as they arrived in the Capital of the Black-Gold Kingdom, Lin Qiu felt it in her chest—her dream was within reach. The Jade-Silk Merchants had their headquarters here, and thanks to Kai, her ambition no longer seemed distant.

Far away, in Crimson Horizon City, Ippo’s table was just as laden. But unlike Kai’s frantic feast, his hunger was met with elegance. Xia, Jia, Mei, and Yan Ru saw to it that the best restaurants delivered food to their mansion. City Guards escorted the deliveries, ensuring everything arrived on time. Their current residence was leagues finer than the Syndicate manor they had stayed in before, before destroying of course! Spacious, refined, filled with luxuries. All thanks to Yan Jia.

Her fiery breakthrough had marked her as someone worth investing in—and the higher-ups of the White-Moon Syndicate were quick to secure their bet.

Still, when Ippo’s body began to show signs of the breakthrough resonating through the link, they could not keep it hidden. A knock came at the door, sharp but respectful.

A Royal-Guardian stood outside. His armor gleamed, his bearing upright, but his tone was polite as he presented a lacquered chest. Not for the boy. For Yan Ru.

Inside lay a gleaming set of chest armor, a pouch of Water Stones, and a jade bottle of pills labeled Profound-Reflection Pills.

It was a gesture, plain and simple—a branch extended, favor sought. If they could not curry the boy’s goodwill, then they would do so through his sword-wielding master.

The Royal-Guardian thumbed his chest in salute when Ippo gave a slight nod for the gift to be accepted. The chest was carried inside, and the door closed, but the meaning lingered.

The Royal Family had noticed.

Here's a link to my discord server if you want to talk - .gg/HwHHR6Hds