Chapter 4 – The Bishop's Gambit
The White Marble City
The carriage arrived at Nuoding City, but they didn't stop at the gates. Su Yuntao's Spirit Hall insignia granted them passage straight to the central district, where the Spirit Sub-Hall loomed over the city like a fortress of white marble and gold.
Lakan stepped out of the carriage. He is now wearing a simple, high-collared white robe that left his tattooed forearms visible—a deliberate choice. The intricate Batok ink stood out against the pristine fabric, making him look less like a student and more like an enigmatic priest of a forgotten faith.
He didn't wait for Su Yuntao. He walked up the steps with a relaxed, breezy confidence, his hands tucked into his sleeves.
The Audience with Bishop Matthewson
Inside the inner sanctum, Bishop Matthewson, a Rank 40+ Spirit Elder, sat behind a massive mahogany desk. He is a man who enjoyed the "dignity" of his position—meaning he liked being the most important person in the room.
"Su Yuntao," the Bishop said without looking up from his ledgers. "You sent a priority hawk regarding an 'Innate Level 20' orphan. I hope for your sake this isn't a clerical error."
"It's no error, Excellency," Su Yuntao stammered, bowing low.
Lakan didn't bow. He pulled a chair out—the one meant for high-ranking guests—and sat down, crossing one leg over the other. He leaned back, a faint, playful smirk on his face.
The Bishop's head snapped up. His eyes narrowed. "Child, do you know where you are? Stand and show respect."
Lakan didn't move. Instead, he let a sliver of the Adarna's Gaze flicker in his eyes. The air in the room suddenly felt "thin," vibrating at a frequency that made the Bishop's ears ring.
"Respect is a transaction, Bishop," Lakan said, his voice smooth and carrying that unmistakable weight of authority. "You represent an organization that claims to be the pillar of the common people. Yet, I see you spend sixty percent of your budget on marble carvings and only twelve percent on the free awakening ceremonies in the outer provinces. If I were the Supreme Pontiff, I'd wonder if you're a Bishop... or just a very expensive decorator."
Flexing the Political Muscle
The Bishop froze. The sheer audacity of a six-year-old analyzing the Sub-Hall's logistics was paralyzing.
"Who... who told you these numbers?" Matthewson demanded, his soul power beginning to flare in agitation.
"I have eyes, and I have a brain," Lakan replied, waving a hand dismissively. "The current political climate of the Douluo Continent is a three-way stalemate. The Heaven Dou and Star Luo Empires think they hold the land, while the Sects think they hold the heavens. Spirit Hall is the only thing in between. But you? You're playing a dangerous game. You're trying to act like a Noble while your actual power base is the commoner you just ignored at the gate."
Lakan leaned forward, his expression shifting from playful to the cold, calculating mask.
"You have two choices today, Bishop. You can try to 'discipline' me for my lack of manners and lose the greatest genius in the history of Spirit Hall to a 'rival' branch. Or, you can realize that I am the best thing that has ever happened to your career. If you provide me with the resources I need—specific herbs, a private forge, and access to the restricted archives—I will ensure that your Sub-Hall becomes the model for the entire empire."
The Hook
Matthewson felt a cold sweat breaking out. He realized he wasn't looking at a child. He is looking at a Political Monster.
"What... what could a child possibly offer the Spirit Hall that we don't already have?" the Bishop asked, his voice losing its edge.
Lakan smiled. It's the smile of a cat that had already caught the canary.
"Efficiency," Lakan said. "The 'Sect' model of cultivation is outdated. It relies on bloodlines and secrets. I can show you how to optimize the spirit power circulation of your lower-ranked deacons by fifteen percent using simple Rhythmic Breathing. I can show you how to make Spirit Hall indispensable to the people so that the Empires wouldn't dare move against you even if they had a million soldiers."
He stood up, the Ibong Adarna manifesting for a split second behind him, its prismatic wings casting a "Divine" light over the room.
"I am Lakan Diwa. I don't just 'belong' to Spirit Hall. I am here to ensure Spirit Hall belongs to the future. Now... shall we discuss my first Soul Ring? I've already selected the beast I require."