After meditating for some time in his room, Gen stood up and dressed in a plain white robe. Though time flew, he wasn't slacking off. All his time in the Salvaged Peaks, he had been working on his **Shidow**. Actually, the Li Family were masters of environmental manipulation, making it the ideal spot for him to refine it.
He moved out into the open air, heading for the library, just as Varja had suggested.
At the heart of the peaks stood a massive, multi-tiered building, circular and imposing. Four great doors faced the cardinal directions. A steady stream of youthful cultivators moved in and out, but despite the numbers, the place was not noisy. People spoke in low voices, perhaps out of fear, perhaps out of respect for the Li Family's stern discipline. Most here were young and carried a palpable aura of ambition and talent.
Gen entered and looked around. The library was a giant cylinder. Scrolls lined the walls in a spiral that climbed upward into dizzying heights. If one wanted a scroll higher up, they would have to manage to fly up to get it. Given the immense height, Gen could only bite his lips in frustration. His **Shidow** was good, but sustained flight wasn't something he could achieve yet.
Furthermore, high in the very ceiling of the immense tower, three crystal claws held a single, shimmering scroll. This scroll was the highest in the library. No one even bothered looking at it, as if it didn't exist.
But for Gen, it was the only thing he saw.
*Back then in the Tower, I just wanted to fight the False Deity. Because only by touching the extreme could I grow.*
It was the same here. He wanted that scroll up there.
Seeing his lingering gaze, a sneering voice called out. "Don't dream too much, little fool. No one can get those scrolls."
Gen turned. It was the same arrogant young man from the Li Family who had insulted them when Liang was wounded in the clearing. He wore the family's blue and silver with a look of permanent disdain.
"The rule here is very simple," the young man continued, walking closer. "The only way to get a scroll is to use **Shidow** to reach it. Any other Wheel is not allowed."
Gen smiled, a slow, dangerous thing. He crossed his arms. "It's not because *you* can't do it that no one can."
The young cultivator smirked. "You sound very arrogant, Gen Jiang. Could it be that the death of your father has made you more brazen? You should be careful, because in here—"
Before he could finish, Gen's fist was already there.
It wasn't a **Jingdao**-powered blow. It was a simple, fast, street-fight punch, fueled by pure irritation. It connected with a wet *smack*, slamming into the young man's mouth and sending him crashing backwards into another group of cultivators, scattering them.
Gen stood over him, his smile gone, replaced by a cold calm. "Didn't get that. Can you repeat it?"
The young cultivator scrambled up, wiping blood from his split lip, his eyes blazing with fury. "Only a coward attacks without warning!"
Gen's smirk returned internally. *After all I've seen, I don't really care about such things.* Li Fen's words from the Jade Palace arena echoed in his mind. *Fights aren't always loyal. It's rarely one-on-one.* The danger Liang and Madame Su had been in was a stark reminder. He still remembered his father's warnings, but the memory was now overlaid with the image of Kirin's cold, separating touch. Some rules were for training yards. Others were for survival.
Several other young Li Family cultivators gathered around their bleeding comrade, their expressions darkening. "Gen Jiang has gone too far! He needs to be taught a good lesson!"
At that moment, a figure appeared behind Gen, placing a familiar hand on his shoulder. It was Liang, a big, easy smile on his face that didn't quite reach his watchful eyes. "Want to have fun without me, huh?"
Lia appeared from the crowd, shaking her head. "You are not in a state for fighting, Liang," she chided softly, but stood by his side.
Slowly, the crowd parted again. Lorel stepped through, her quiet presence causing a ripple of whispers and envious looks directed at her frame. Chubbs puffed out his chest, walking beside her. "See, my lady? They can't stop staring at us."
The young cultivator, Li Chen, spat blood on the polished floor. "You two make a good match. Hanging onto a crumbling legacy."
Gen's fist creaked, but he didn't charge this time. He understood why they were here. It was for Varja, for the Divine General. Personal squabbles were a distraction. "Let's have a deal," Li Chen said, his voice cutting through the tension. "If you're such a prodigy as you claim… why not learn an incredibly difficult **Shidow** spell before Varja fights? Then, we will fight. If you can't learn it in time, there's no need. It just means people are right to cast your dead father's shadow on you."
The challenge was absurd, designed to humiliate.
Without even a single thought, Gen accepted. "You better get prepared. Because I won't need much to beat the likes of you."
A murmur of interest ran through the onlookers. "Li Chen is well known for looking for trouble," someone whispered. "Such a biting tongue. He's met another stubborn one."
Li Chen wiped his mouth, a nasty grin spreading. "I am Li Chen," he announced, as if it were a title. To demonstrate his point, he summoned a disk of solidified air with a flick of his wrist and flew up into the tower on a cushion of **Shidow**, rising higher and higher as if showcasing their weakness. He climbed until he was about halfway to the very peak, snatched an old, yellowed scroll from its niche, then flew down in a gust of wind that made Gen's hair flutter back.
Gen never budged, standing tall as a mountain.
Li Chen handed him the scroll. It was ancient, the casing cracked. "It's called **The God Asylum**. Let's see if you can learn it in a week. Varja fights on the last day of the year. We will know by then."
Gen took the scroll, feeling the strange, almost greasy texture of the old leather. He had apprehensions, but he palmed it in his hand. "No problem."
Then he turned, and with his friends, walked out of the library, leaving a buzzing crowd behind.
***
Back in their own pavilion, the group sat around a low table, the ancient scroll open between them. The characters were in a style so old they seemed to squirm on the page.
Chubbs caressed his non-existent beard, his usual theatrics replaced by genuine concern. "That Li Chen is a real devil. I have… heard of this spell once. Back then."
Lorel looked up. "Heard from where?"
"It was among the numerous treasures the greatest cultivator of the time had gathered," Chubbs said, avoiding her eyes.
"The greatest *thief*, you mean," Lorel corrected softly, her gaze knowing. "The Golden Touch."
Gen lifted an eyebrow, looking at Chubbs with new interest. "I always knew this fatty was not a good person."
Chubbs sighed, giving up the pretense. "The Golden Touch is a legend that doesn't pale even in front of a Pillar. It's for his treasures people roam the Sky Ocean. It wouldn't be surprising if the upcoming expedition is linked to him." He pointed a thick finger at the scroll. "However, the **God Asylum**… according to legends, was obtained in a very strange cave. After he came back from that place, the Golden Touch was never the same. Over the years, many have tried to learn this thing. No one has ever understood it. And those who have… all vanished. No one knows where they went." He met Gen's eyes, his own uncharacteristically serious. "It's a curse, this thing. Back in Ophelina, where I come from, the old men used to scare us with this story."
He laughed then, a short, nervous bark, unaware he had just let slip something very personal.
Lorel took another long look at him, understanding another layer of the man who followed her.
Gen didn't really care about origins. He clapped his hands together. "No matter what, I will learn it in half a week and beat the crap out of that fool."
"Your arrogance knows no limits," Liang laughed, but it was fond. "It's a good thing. I, too, have selected a good spell from the library." He nudged Lorel. "Hope you and the others did the same."
Lorel nodded, taking out her own, much newer-looking scroll and waving it. "We will all be practicing in this time. To get stronger."
Gen smiled at her, a real, unguarded smile. "To get stronger."
For a fleeting moment, there was a charged silence between the two of them—a recognition of shared purpose, of the unspoken understanding forged in the fire of the last battle.
Liang suddenly stood up and tapped Chubbs on the shoulder. "I thought you said you were hungry. Come with me."
Chubbs looked around, confused. "No way. I ate well coming here. The Li are very generous."
But Liang hooked an arm through his, pulling him up. "You need to eat, fatty. Come over here." His tone was light, but his eyes held a silent message: *Give them a moment.*
Gen slapped his own forehead, an amused, exasperated grin on his face as he watched the duo go, bickering.
Lorel watched them leave, a small, private smile on her lips at their antics.
Soon enough, only the two of them sat at the table, the ancient scroll between them, the weight of its legend and the week's deadline hanging in the quiet air. They weren't looking at the scroll. They were looking at each other, in a silence that was neither awkward nor charged with anger, but simply… present.