A Waste of Time

Chapter 84: Fallow Tethers

Inside Daemon’s head, a familiar chime rang out — the clear, crystalline ding of a System Formation notification.

The message was simple: the Hourly-Roll was available again. Third attempt today.

Finally, he thought… though the excitement dulled almost instantly as the memory of his first two attempts surfaced. The boy groaned inwardly, recalling the disappointments, before crossing his fingers and offering a silent, half-sarcastic prayer to the unseen powers that his luck would turn this time — especially here, in the strange path beneath the surface of the ocean.

To everyone else, the change in his expression was baffling. One moment, he was the unshakable center of the clearing’s attention; the next, his gaze drifted away, his focus clearly elsewhere. Then, without ceremony, he stepped out of the circle of packed dirt and began walking toward the treeline.

Brows furrowed across the crowd, but Daemon just waved a hand lazily over his shoulder, speaking in a tone that made the words feel like a chore to deliver.

“All these sweets and water left me almost bursting,” he drawled. “You guys can figure out who’s next while I take a piss.”

Murmurs rippled through the onlookers, but no one moved to stop him.

At the edge of the clearing, the boy unbuckled his belt with casual ease and positioned himself by a tree. Yan Ru stepped in without hesitation, facing the crowd like a human shield to block their view, his posture straight and uncompromising. On the other side, Yan Jia knelt slightly, helping their young master rinse himself with a poured stream of water. The small handkerchief followed — crisp, white, and offered without comment — as if this ritual was nothing more than another ordinary duty in the service of Daemon.

Yan Jia immediately noticed it — that subtle shift in her young master’s posture, the slackening of his expression — the same vulnerable state Daemon only ever allowed himself inside the safety of the tent back at camp. But here, in the open clearing with a hundred eyes watching, it was jarringly out of place. Thankfully, it lasted only a few seconds before his focus returned… though whatever he’d seen or experienced in that brief lapse had soured his mood enough to darken his face to the color of a pot’s blackened bottom.

Indeed, the boy didn’t even mutter a word of thanks to the girl who had just wiped and diligently cleaned him. Instead, Daemon tied and tightened his belt with a sharp tug, his expression set, and strode back toward the scorched circle of packed earth. His gaze snapped toward the five remaining Inner Disciples, impatience flickering like a blade’s glint in the sun.

“Hurry up!” he barked, gesturing curtly with one hand. “Let’s get this over with so I can get back to the Nie’s Smithy and finish my work. I don’t have time to waste while you lot stand there staring. Decide who’s next right now—” his voice dropped to a cold promise, “—or I’ll just leave, and whoever dares to bother me later, I’ll break their legs for dragging their feet.”

Shitty luck, he cursed inwardly, his thoughts already back in the other world he had just left. This is all because of that damned roll.

Inside his mind, the moment replayed in sharp detail. The instant he delved into the System and stood once more on the submerged path, he had wasted no time — he knew too many eyes were on him in the real world. The red and white Dice had appeared in his palm only to vanish again at his spoken command, “Roll,” materializing several tiles ahead. It spun, clattering against the strange stone until it landed — 5-Red.

Daemon’s stomach had dropped as his body was yanked backward, sliding five tiles closer to the abyss’s yawning mouth. His heartbeat stuttered from the raw, instinctive dread the endless dark inspired.

Which was why, now, every muscle in his small frame thrummed with the urge to vent that spike of fear into action. Whoever stepped forward next… was going to be the unlucky recipient of that lesson.

The two pretty girls shot twin glares toward Daemon, their expressions hardening like frost under moonlight. His sudden, brazen rudeness grated against their pride — to have an adolescent mortal speak down to them so carelessly, here of all places, before a gathering of villagers and wanderers… and with an Outer Elder of their Sect present to witness it. Every word and gesture from him was a small blade aimed at the reputation of Ten-Thousand Beast Mountain, and each cut threatened to draw blood.

For a moment, their delicate brows knitted in shared indignation, but then something else flickered between them — a silent conversation carried in sidelong glances and barely perceptible nods. Their meaning was obvious to anyone with eyes sharp enough to catch it: they were considering joining forces to put this brat in his place.

Yet before their plan could take root, one of the young men standing nearby noticed the exchange. His gaze sharpened, and a faint smirk curved his lips. In the next heartbeat, he stepped forward, the motion brisk, almost eager — as though afraid that hesitation might cost him this chance to shine.

His boots thudded against the scorched ground, the air around him stirring faintly with the ripple of his Qi as he closed the distance. If he could seize this moment, humiliate the boy in a direct clash, and earn the smiles of the Sect’s young beauties… his standing among them would rise immeasurably.

The two girls halted their shared resolve, both glancing at him in faint surprise. Behind them, the remaining Sect Disciples exchanged sly grins, their eyes glinting with amusement.

For them, his sudden gallantry was a blessing. This lovestruck, hot-blooded fool had just volunteered himself as the next offering. With him as the test subject, they could observe, learn, and adapt — gaining yet another opportunity to dissect the boy’s methods without risking themselves.

The young man flicked the sleeve of his Sect attire in one smooth, deliberate motion, the yellow folds of his robe fluttering dramatically as if stirred by some unseen wind. In truth, it was a subtle trick — the brief flare of his Qi sent the fabric rippling with a life of its own, drawing every eye in the clearing. He struck a stance that was half hero, half stage performer, chest squared and chin high, the sunlight catching on the fine lines of his well-sculpted features.

It worked. A murmur ran through the crowd as the pose landed exactly as intended — stealing the breath of several young maidens who clutched at their sleeves and exchanged flustered looks. But for every sigh of admiration, there came an equal measure of inward curses from the men present, their envy sour and sharp. Many of them found themselves silently rooting for the boy instead, their prayers unanimous: Let the little brat crush this human peacock, and let it be quick and brutal.

The young man stepped forward, boots firm on the scorched earth, then cupped his fist with solemn precision. “Zhao Wei,” he declared, voice carrying clearly to the farthest edge of the clearing. “Inner Disciple of Ten-Thousand Beast Mountain, representing the Jade-Eye Serpent Hall.”

Daemon mirrored the gesture without hesitation. There was no mockery in his movement, no lazy tilt to his shoulders. He’d always been a creature of principle — return venom for venom when faced with an insult, but meet sincerity with sincerity, even in the middle of a fight. If someone approached with proper decorum, he would honor it, whether friend, stranger, or enemy.

Elder Ping’s fan stilled for a moment as she took in the scene. Both Yan Ru and Yan Jia exchanged the briefest glance before nodding almost imperceptibly, sharing the same thought: Manners make men.

And here was their young master, proving he could rein in his temper and hold his ground with dignity — even while in a foul, restless mood.To Daemon’s eyes, it was instantly obvious which Elemental-Compatibility Zhao Wei possessed. The faint blue shimmer coiling around the young man’s limbs was near identical to Yan Ru’s Water Qi, even carrying that same cool, heavy vibe. Already, the air between them had grown denser, beads of moisture clinging faintly to the skin of those close enough to feel its touch. Zhao Wei’s Qi seeped outward in waves, saturating the space around them as he revealed its full strength.

From his Space-Pouch, Zhao Wei drew a Leather Whip unlike any Daemon had seen before — its length studded with countless cruel barbs and sheathed in slippery, scale-like plates. The grey hue lent it a quiet, ominous menace, while the hard obsidian handle flashed dully in the sunlight. For the briefest moment, it reminded Daemon of the dark, unwelcoming depths waiting for him at one end of the submerged path within the System.

Meeting Daemon’s gaze, Zhao Wei inclined his head in polite warning.

“Don’t blink, little brother,” he said evenly, his tone more caution than mockery. “This won’t be gentle.”

Then the Whip cracked forward in a sharp, sinuous arc.

First Wave, Zhao Wei thought as his foot stamped down hard on the scorched ground. In an instant, his Water Qi poured outwards, swirling up to encase him in a rotating sphere of flowing liquid. It clung close, moving constantly, a double-purpose Shield — armor against an unexpected strike, and a keen alarm to warn him if this lightning-fast boy tried to breach his defenses by surprise.

Daemon’s instincts screamed don’t take it head-on. He sidestepped, letting the barbed tip slice past, the flicker of movement carrying a weight of precision that made his skin prickle. Inwardly, he gave a small nod. His opponent was no fool — isolate first, distract with a probing attack, and wait for the counter.

My Lightning-Cocoon won’t work against this clever fellow unless I get inside his Water-Domain, Daemon thought, twisting to avoid the follow-up as Zhao Wei rolled his wrist for another strike. And who knows what other tricks he’s hiding in there if I force my way in?

But Daemon knew as well as any seasoned fighter — staying on the back foot would get him nowhere. So, he reached for an old trick. One from his very first day in this world… only this time, with far more bite. And a lot more crass.

Whizz.

It happened too fast for most eyes to follow. As Daemon leaned back to evade the sweeping Whip, one hand caught his weight against the ground. His fingers brushed a stone roughly the size of his palm. A heartbeat later, his body rolled sideways in a tight flip — and the stone left his hand, spinning towards Zhao Wei’s watery Shield.

The audience’s focus locked on the splash as it struck, rippling the flowing sphere… and in that instant, they almost missed the real threat.

With his other foot, Daemon had already kicked a head-sized rock with bone-snapping force. It tore across the clearing and struck the Shield a split-second after the first, the two impacts overlapping in a staggered rhythm.

Zhao Wei’s Whip lashed out to intercept the heavier projectile — but in doing so, his attention missed the danger hidden behind the feint. From Daemon’s outstretched finger exploded a bolt of silver-blue Lightning, threading perfectly through the brief, vulnerable gap in the liquid barrier opened by the first stone’s impact.

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