It had been nearly three years since Stephen joined the Great Sword Mountain.
In that time, he had grown from an unknown newcomer into someone standing at the very peak of the Grandmaster Realm, just a step away from breaking into the King Realm.
Yet something had always bothered him.
Wilson Thorn had done nothing.
Not a single move in all these years.
That didn't sit right.
From everything Stephen had learned, the Thorn family wasn't the type to forgive and forget. They were known for nursing grudges like treasured heirlooms. And Wilson… he was far too arrogant, far too petty to let something like that go.
He should've struck back by now.
The silence felt unnatural.
Like a blade hidden in the dark, waiting.
Still, Stephen didn't let it slow him down.
Over the years, he and Elsa had taken on mission after mission, pushing themselves far beyond what most probationary disciples dared attempt. What started as simple cooperation had, through shared danger and narrow escapes, grown into something steady and unspoken.
Trust.
They had survived too many life-and-death situations together for it to be anything less.
The sect's monthly resources were barely enough to sustain basic cultivation, let alone rapid growth. If they wanted to advance, they had to earn it themselves.
So they did.
Again and again.
At this point, they were widely recognized as one of the strongest teams among the probationary disciples. Their mission completion rate was among the highest, and more importantly—
Consistent.
Where others failed, hesitated, or returned empty-handed, they delivered.
Clean.
Efficient.
Almost flawless.
And that kind of reputation…
Came with a price.
Jealousy.
Resentment.
It was easier for people to tear others down than to admit their own shortcomings. Instead of pushing themselves harder, many chose to whisper, scheme, and wait for a chance to see Stephen and Elsa fall.
Because if they fell—
Then all that success must've been fake, right?
That was how people comforted themselves.
—
There had been one mission in particular that people still talked about.
Even the Treasure Hall staff had warned them before accepting it.
The deposit alone was five hundred points.
An absurd amount.
Most missions required anywhere between ten and fifty.
The reason for such a system was simple. In the past, too many groups had abused the mission system—taking up assignments only to sit on them, blocking others from completing them, then returning later with excuses.
It was petty.
And effective.
So the sect introduced deposits. Fail the mission, and you lose everything you put in.
That single rule wiped out most of that behavior overnight.
This mission, however, was different.
Retrieve a spirit herb from the depths of a lake.
Simple on paper.
Except—
It was guarded by a serpent-type beast at the king-realm.
Deadly poison. Territorial. Rarely left its domain.
Originally, it wasn't even meant for probationary disciples. It had only been listed because it was considered too trivial for inner sect members to bother with.
Too trivial.
Stephen almost laughed when he heard that.
Even among third-year probationary disciples, very few would dare take it.
But because of their track record, they were given permission.
With a warning.
And a heavy price.
Stephen had planned to cover the deposit himself.
Elsa refused.
"If we're risking our lives together," she said simply, "then we pay for it together."
So they did.
And set out.
—
It took them over three months to reach the location.
A vast lake stretched before them, its surface eerily still.
According to the mission details, the herb grew at the very bottom.
And the beast—
Never strayed far from it.
The plan was simple.
Elsa would draw it away.
Stephen would dive in and retrieve the herb.
Simple plans often carried the highest risk.
The moment the serpent was provoked, the entire lake churned like something alive. Its massive body coiled beneath the surface, venom thick enough to kill within moments.
Elsa moved first.
Fast. Precise.
She struck, then retreated, pulling its attention away.
That was Stephen's opening.
He didn't hesitate.
Diving straight into the depths, he pushed himself beyond his limits, ignoring the pressure, the suffocating cold, the knowledge that one mistake meant death.
By the time the serpent realized what had happened—
He had already reached the herb.
The escape… was chaos.
Water exploded. The beast thrashed wildly. Poison flooded the lake.
Stephen barely made it out.
They fled immediately.
Even then, it wasn't over.
During the escape, Elsa had been struck by the creature's spiked tail.
Poison.
Potent.
Fast-acting.
By the time they returned to the sect, her condition had already worsened.
Stephen didn't waste a second.
He turned in the mission himself, secured the rewards, and immediately bought a detoxification elixir.
He didn't even pause to rest.
—
And that was when trouble came knocking.
Word spread fast.
A mission worth three thousand points?
That was enough to make people stupid.
A small group tried to ambush him outside the Treasure Hall, thinking he'd be easy prey after such a mission.
They learned otherwise.
Stephen didn't hold back.
By the time he was done, they were barely conscious, sprawled across the ground like broken dolls.
That incident earned him a reputation.
Not just skilled—
But ruthless.
Someone not worth provoking.
—
One morning, as Stephen stepped out of the cultivation chamber, the world felt sharper.
Clearer.
The result of days spent refining himself at the edge of a breakthrough.
And there—
Leaning casually against the wall—
Was Elsa.
Waiting.
Their eyes met.
A quiet smile passed between them, natural as breathing.
Today, she wasn't dressed in her usual combat attire.
Instead, she wore a pale pink dress.
Soft.
Simple.
Yet it made her stand out even more.
The contrast was striking.
The same girl who moved like a blade in battle now looked… almost gentle.
Around others, she remained distant. Reserved. Untouchable.
But with him—
She laughed.
She smiled.
Like spring slipping through winter's cracks.
People noticed.
Of course they did.
Glances were thrown their way.
Some envious. Some bitter.
A few openly hostile.
Stephen ignored all of it.
To him—
She was just someone he trusted.
After all, they were just friends in his eyes.
So when they walked off together, heading out for a meal like they had done many times before—
He didn't think much of it at all.