"A way to communicate with the Senior who has what you're looking for," Ilya explained calmly, gesturing lightly to the side.
The guard beside her stepped forward without a word and poured another cup.
She accepted it with a small smile, her fingers lightly brushing the porcelain as she brought it up for a slow sip.
Then, with a fluid motion, she crossed one leg over the other again.
"But keep in mind," she added, glancing at him from over the rim of the cup, "you might walk away with nothing. That Senior is... particular in his ways."
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as she exhaled, letting the steam swirl up from the surface.
She stirred it gently, holding the spoon with a casual, almost absent touch.
"If it's not too much trouble," Lucien spoke, lowering the token just enough to let their eyes meet, "may I ask who this Senior is? Judging by your tone, it doesn't sound like someone who belongs in a place like this city."
"Indeed..." Ilya gave a slow nod, her gaze drifting to the open window nearby.
The breeze slipped in quietly, brushing past the silk curtains. "But I'm afraid I can't say anything more."
"I see..." Lucien's fingers curled slightly around the token.
The subtle tension in his grip eased a moment later before he slipped it back into his sleeve. "How much for this?"
"It's free," Ilya replied with a smile.
Lucien blinked, visibly caught off guard.
His brow furrowed, and his gaze swept toward the other two guards standing silently nearby.
Something clicked and he understood.
"I didn't expect Miss Ilya to have any connection with someone of that level," he said slowly.
"The sudden rise of my Purple Cloud Pavilion these past weeks hasn't exactly been subtle, Sir Lucien," Ilya answered, taking another sip.
She set the cup down, her posture relaxing as she leaned back into the cushion.
Even the smallest shift in her seat caused her form to move slightly, visibly.
A sight that might've drawn attention from most men, but Lucien's eyes never lingered.
His pursuit was focused elsewhere, and it had nothing to do with beauty.
"Then," he said, tone steady, "that Senior… is expecting me?"
"Yes," Ilya answered, holding his gaze for a moment.
It wasn't just a confirmation.
The look she gave him, mildly surprised, as if she hadn't expected him to put the pieces together, said more than her words did. "That Senior has been waiting for you."
"But not in person?"
"You're not worthy enough," one of the guards interjected coldly from the side.
Ilya gave a small shrug, offering no argument.
She didn't need to. Lucien had already understood.
He wasn't strong enough, not yet. And without that strength, there was no seat at the table. No audience with the one above.
Lucien said nothing in return. He simply nodded, already aware of what needed to be done.
Without delay, he made several purchases from the Pavilion.
Talisman slips, recovery pills, and other items, mostly emergency tools meant to preserve one's life in dire moments.
Ilya, watching him with quiet interest, tilted her head slightly.
She didn't ask what he needed them for, though it was clear she was curious.
Perhaps as a gesture of appreciation for him saving her before, she gave him a generous discount, cutting the price down to half without further explanation.
Not long after, Lucien stepped out of the pavilion and faded into the crowd.
Just like that, no fuss, no noise. His presence vanished like smoke in the wind.
Inside the room, Ilya turned toward the guards.
"He's gone?"
"Yes, My Lady," one of them replied.
"Which direction?"
"We couldn't track it. His breath-concealment technique is unusual. From the way he moves... he might be able to hide from those several realms above him."
Ilya took a quiet breath, letting that information settle.
She wasn't attracted in the usual sense, there was no lust or desire.
What she felt instead was a sharper curiosity.
For someone still so weak, why was there such depth in secrecy?
And more importantly... how many layers was he hiding?
Outside, past the inner walls of the city, Lucien made his way into the outskirts with slow, steady steps.
He didn't rush.
His pace was deliberate, almost cautious, like someone moving under the weight of too many thoughts.
Every kilometre or so, he'd change direction, sometimes turning right for no reason, sometimes circling back, eyes subtly scanning his surroundings.
A brief pause here, a longer one there, checking, watching, making sure no one was following.
Eventually, he slipped into the forest.
The shade grew thicker, and the noise of the city faded behind the trees.
Soon, he reached a wide boulder nestled among roots and moss.
He raised his hand and tapped it lightly with his palm.
The stone vibrated faintly, then slowly shifted aside, revealing a narrow passage hidden in the rock.
He stepped in.
The passage led him underground, winding and uneven until it opened into a small chamber carved out beneath the mountain.
Sparse shelves lined the walls, stacked with a few necessities: scrolls, basic tools, preserved rations.
A narrow bed of straw sat in the corner beside a low wooden table.
This... was his real base.
The home he kept inside the city? Just a front. A distraction.
Lucien stood still for a moment in the quiet, eyes trailing across the familiar mess.
Then he walked to the centre of the room, lowering himself to the ground and sitting cross-legged.
From within his robes, he pulled out a token and held it in front of his face.
"A mysterious expert, huh?" he muttered, brow faintly furrowed.
His grip on the token tightened.
His intuition was split one side whispered caution, the other urged him to use it.
The pull was undeniable.
He could sense something valuable, maybe even life-altering, just beyond reach.
But the risks…
He stayed there in silence, mind working through each thread.
What exactly was the connection between this token and that expert?
And Miss Ilya, what role was she playing in all of this?
Was she a pawn to lure him out?
Then there were the two brand-new guards he'd seen stationed by her side.
Both were Foundation Building experts. Both had appeared out of nowhere, replacing the old ones without any explanation.
No second-rate power could do that, not that easily.
Lucien narrowed his eyes.
Was it a legendary first-rate sect? but why here?
But that made no sense. No such power existed in this region. At least, none that should.
'Maybe... a force from another region?'
He couldn't say for sure. But one thing was clear, there was a reason that level of power would come here.
A reason tied to the card he currently possessed.
Reaching into his storage bag, Lucien pulled out another item.
A thin, delicately designed card that shimmered faintly even in the dim chamber.
The Moon Gazer Card. The name was engraved at the bottom.
He ran his fingers across its surface, careful and slow. His eyes narrowed as he stared at it, reading every line.
"This card's temptation is beyond any treasure in this world," he whispered to himself.
And he meant every word.
He would never let it go.
Instead of contacting the expert through the token, Lucien decided on another path.
He returned to the dungeon.
It wasn't exactly logical.
Even he found it odd, the pull this place had over him.
But each time he entered, he was reminded of the quiet strangeness: no noise, no ripple in spiritual energy, no sensation of teleportation.
He simply appeared.
At the same time, this couldn't be the final layer. No way. There had to be more.
Stronger enemies. Better rewards. But something was missing.
Perhaps a requirement. Something he hadn't unlocked yet.
As for the mysterious expert?
Lucien had already done his analyzation.
If that person meant to harm him, they could've done it long ago.
After all, they clearly knew he had the card.
Yet here he was, walking around freely in the city.
Only two conclusions made sense.
A: The card truly belonged to him now. Maybe it was bound to him, useless to others.
B: The expert was a fellow cardholder, someone with their own reason for keeping an eye on him. Maybe they wanted to guide him. Maybe they wanted something else.
Either way, Lucien wasn't about to play into their hands so easily.
"Since I am within his palm, then let's play it the hard way."