Chapter 14: Beyond Glory
Mo Yuan stepped away from the Black Board, his gaze lingering on the blood-soaked "Spirit-Eater" slip.
The image clung to his mind like a shadow. He did not turn back. The decision was already made, now only the timing remained.
Around him, disciples murmured in anticipation, eyes gleaming as they pointed at high-reward hunts, fingers trembling with excitement.
To them, each mission was a gamble, a chance at quick fortune.
But to Mo Yuan, it was but another step in the forging of his path, a necessary part of his cultivation.
As Mo Yuan walked toward the center of the hall, where the green and blue slips were displayed, a faint pain throbbed in his right arm.
The numbness hadn't fully faded, and if he stayed still for too long, his Qi may stumble, his shoulder aching as a harsh reminder of the recoil from the Absolute Void Strike.
A faint irritation flickered in his eyes before vanishing.
Weakness, even if it was temporary was unacceptable.
The Mirror in his mind remained still, its bronze surface clear and unclouded. It gave no warning, for Mo Yuan was not in danger.
He began to discard the missions one by one in his mind.
Herb gathering? Inefficient. The time spent wasn't worth the points earned, and the constant bending and kneeling would strain his still-healing ribs.
Patrol missions? Too unpredictable. Hours spent walking a fence could turn into moments of life-threatening battle with a bandit. He couldn't risk being caught in a sudden, intense fight.
Beast hunts? They demanded the very burst techniques that had nearly broken his arm.
His gaze swept over the lower-tier boards, searching carefully. He wasn't looking for fame or honor.
He needed a simple, steady task something he could handle without risking too much, but still which would still help him make progress.
'I don't need the sect's praise.'
His gaze settled on the most mundane section of the board. 'I need a body that can withstand my own power.'
Nearby, a group of disciples from the Law Enforcement Hall watched him closely.
There, a man with a scarred lip quietly made a note on a jade tablet. They had been assigned to monitor Mo Yuan, expecting him to overreach after his victory over Wang Wei.
They expected him to claim a Red Slip, eager to prove his genius status.
Instead, they watched as he lingered over a stack of forgotten, low-priority tasks.
Outside the hall, hidden in the shadow of a stone pillar, Wang Wei waited patiently. His arm was still in a sling, his face pale and drained from his defeat.
He had sent a lackey inside to observe Mo Yuan, expecting to hear that his rival had chosen a dangerous, near-suicidal mission something Wang Wei could exploit to finish what he had started.
When the lackey returned and whispered the news, Wang Wei did not roar or curse. He simply fixed his gaze on the Hall's entrance, his eyes narrowing in thought.
"He's not taking missions outside the sect?" Wang Wei asked, voice low and hoarse.
"No, Brother Wang. He's... he's looking at the Boundary Inspection logs."
Wang Wei's grip on his sling tightened, his knuckles turning white. This was worse than Mo Yuan being arrogant. An arrogant man makes mistakes.
But a man who understands his own limits, who refuses to act like prey even when wounded, was far more dangerous, a man who could not be easily lured or trapped.
Wang Wei's gaze hardened, a flicker of frustration in his eyes. "He's not acting on impulse," he muttered, his voice tense. "This won't be as easy as I thought."
Back inside, Mo Yuan finally reached out and pinned a single, faded green slip.
[ Mission: Southern Boundary Stone Maintenance.
Task: Inspect and Qi-recharge forty-two boundary markers scattered across the jagged foothills.
Reward: 40 Contribution Points. ]
It was a grueling, thankless task. The mission was still within the sect, but it required trekking for miles over rough, uneven terrain, constantly performing low-effort Qi infusions into heavy stones.
There was no prestige to be earned, and the reward was small hardly worth comparing to the points gained from hunting beasts.
But for Mo Yuan, it was perfect. The long walk would serve as gentle recovery for his legs, while the steady, low-level Qi output would soothe his damaged meridians, gradually easing the tension left by the Void Strike.
He walked up to the counter and registered the slip. The attendant glanced at the mission, then at Mo Yuan's rank, and hesitated. "You're tenth-ranked disciple now, Disciple Mo. You could earn ten times this by simply guarding a caravan."
Mo Yuan glanced at the attendant and said, "This suits me."
He took the slip and walked away.
His contribution points would barely rise over five days but his strength would.
By day, he would complete the mission, and by night, he would meditate, letting his Qi flow and heal his body, strengthening his foundation with each passing hour.