Steadily Upgrading Everything!
Chapter 48: Are you one of my admirers?

Chapter 48: Are you one of my admirers?

"We only have three days left," Caros said, stretching his arms over his head.

His gaze drifted lazily over the tree canopy, golden rays piercing through the leaves. "And from the looks of it, we could be in the top fifty already."

John stood still, eyes locked on thin air.

A quiet wind passed between them as he stared into the void, the recent memories of combat and death still vivid in his mind.

Caros turned his head and raised a brow. "Oi. You still with me?"

John blinked, quickly dismissing his System Panel, then turned to face him. "Yeah... I’m just thinking about those people. Those three."

His voice carried a weight that hadn’t been there before, somber, thoughtful.

"They were so strong, Caros."

For a few seconds, Caros didn’t respond. His usual smirk faded.

Instead, a seriousness overtook his features that John rarely saw.

"Strong? Yeah," Caros muttered. "They were Silentswords, after all."

He picked up a twig from the ground and absentmindedly twirled it between his fingers, his gaze thoughtful.

"It’s said that the top members of several major sects are recruited from the Silentsword Sect. Not just for their talent... but because of how they’re trained. They don’t raise cultivators like everyone else does, they raise weapons. Cold, efficient. Emotionless."

He paused, voice low.

"They raise killing machines."

John gulped his saliva, his throat suddenly dry.

The image of Benneca’s icy stare flashed across his mind, along with Crimson’s grinning madness and Clark’s terrifying calm.

"...We were lucky to escape," he said, almost to himself.

Caros nodded grimly. "Damn lucky."

A long silence fell between them, until John finally jumped down from the moss-covered boulder he was sitting on, his boots crunching against the underbrush.

"Come on," he said, rolling his shoulders. "Let’s hunt some more beasts."

Caros blinked, then smiled.

"Hah! That’s the enthusiasm I like to see!" His mood instantly bounced back to his usual self. "It’s that stubborn spark of yours, Coral. That’s why I like you."

John allowed himself a brief smile. In all the madness, Caros had proven more dependable than he’d expected.

When it came down to it, he hadn’t run. He’d used his power, and risked everything, to teleport them both out of the Silentswords’ death trap.

John reached into his spatial bag, his fingers brushing against the cool parchment of an Escape Slip, Caros’s Escape Slip.

Without a word, he pulled it out and tossed it over.

Caros caught it one-handed, his expression freezing in disbelief. "Eh?"

"Keep it," John said.

A wide grin cracked across Caros’s face. "Well, well, well. Looks like you finally fell for my charms, huh?"

John snorted. "Yeah. I think that Silentsword girl fell for your charm too. That’s why she poisoned you, so no one else could have you."

Caros raised a brow and stroked his chin with a mockingly serious face. "Hmmm... you know, you may be onto something. That does sound like something an obsessed admirer would do."

John chuckled and shook his head.

"Anyway," Caros said, fishing into his own spatial bag. "Here, I’ve split the beast cores we earned evenly." He tossed a small pouch through the air.

John caught it easily. But just as he was about to check the contents...

A sudden pressure gripped the air.

Their bodies blurred.

A moment later, the world shifted around them.

In an instant, the wilderness vanished, replaced by the elegant wooden flooring and glowing lanterns of a massive interior hall.

The soft hum of spirit energy buzzed through the walls.

They were back.

Back on the examination ship.

One by one, more disciples began to materialize around him in bursts of light, their robes fluttering slightly from the force of teleportation.

A deep frown etched itself onto John’s face.

Weren’t we supposed to stay on the island for three more days? He glanced around, his mind racing with questions.

Why were we pulled back so early? Was the test over?

He turned toward Caros, who stood to his left with a familiar relaxed posture.

As always, the man had that slightly smug smile plastered across his face, as if he had already figured everything out.

John stepped closer and asked, "Why are we back early? Did something happen?"

Caros raised a brow and casually motioned toward the front of the crowd with a nod. "Looks like those three razed the island, John. From what I heard back on the island, they went on a killing spree so intense that the number of participants must have dropped to five hundred. That’s the minimum cutoff the sect uses for final selection. No point in keeping the test going when the rest are already dead."

John followed his gaze.

And there they were.

Standing at the far end of the hall, Crimson, Benneca, and Clark stood like dark monarchs among peasants.

The other cultivators kept a wide berth from them.

Even the air near them seemed to ripple with restrained killing intent.

John’s eyes instantly locked onto Crimson. His jaw clenched, and his hands curled into tight fists at his sides.

The image of that black sword hurling toward him, the feeling of helplessness, the pain in his chest, it all rushed back in a wave.

"I’ll kill that bastard..." John muttered under his breath, his aura beginning to stir.

Caros stepped in, placing a steadying hand on John’s shoulder. "Not here. Not now." His voice was calm but edged with steel. "We’ll have plenty of time to repay that debt. Inside the Blue Cauldron Sect."

John took a deep breath, controlling his anger.

The warmth in Caros’s voice and the sincerity behind his words cooled the rage, if only slightly.

Still, deep within both their eyes, a shared hatred smoldered.

Soon, all five hundred remaining participants had gathered.

Murmurs filled the room, people scanning the crowd for familiar faces, allies, and rivals.

John’s gaze drifted, his heart skipping a beat when he spotted her, Riara Greenblade, standing confidently among a small group of cultivators.

Her hair was tied into a neat combat braid, and although there were a few cuts on her sleeve, her posture was proud as ever.

Their eyes met, and her lips curled into a smirk as she strode over.

"Hmph. And here I thought you’d be dead without me," she said, tilting her head with mock arrogance.

John smiled, genuinely happy to see her alive.

Without hesitation, he raised a hand and lightly patted her head. "It’s good that you survived. I was worried about you."

Her eyes widened slightly at the gesture. "W-Worried?" she stammered for just a moment, then quickly composed herself, puffing out her chest. "For me? A goddess like me doesn’t need to be worried about."

John chuckled softly. "Of course. My bad. How could I forget your divine status?"

Before she could retort, Caros stepped forward, brushing imaginary dust off his robe and flashing a practiced smile. "And you must be Riara Greenblade. The infamous prodigy of the Greenblade Clan."

Riara gave him a once-over, unimpressed. "Do I know you?" she asked bluntly. "Wait... don’t tell me, you’re one of my admirers?" Her smirk widened, smugness radiating from every pore.

Caros’s smile froze. For a moment, he looked like he’d just swallowed a bug.

John laughed at the interaction, amused at Caros’s rare loss of words.

"I met with that fatty, after you," John said, his tone sobering. He looked Riara straight in the eyes.

Her entire demeanor changed.

"Fatty?" she echoed, her expression darkening. "You mean Brandon Flamewell?"

John nodded.

Riara’s hand clenched into a tight fist, her jaw trembling. "That pig almost got me... If I hadn’t escaped when I did..." Her voice shook with anger.

John gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "You don’t need to worry anymore."

She blinked.

"I killed him," John said simply.

For a second, Riara didn’t react, processing the words.

Then her eyes widened in pure shock. "What? You did?"

John nodded again, this time with a quiet pride in his tone. "Yeah. He won’t hurt anyone again."

Riara stood frozen for a moment, her eyes locked onto his.

Something shifted in her expression, gratitude mixed with something else. Something softer.

She looked down, her voice suddenly quieter. "Thanks... I wanted to be the one to finish him. But... I’m glad you did."

Caros took a dramatic step back and waved his hand. "Alright, alright! You two need to get a room or a private training field or something. I’m starting to feel like the third wheel here."

Riara scowled and kicked a small stone at him. "Ugh. You again."

John laughed. It felt good.

To be alive, to be standing next to allies, and to know that justice, however small, had been delivered.

After the five Hundered people the old man with big white beard appeared on the stage.

He glanced at the Silentswords and for a bit and then looked at everyone.

"The examination is finished, top fifty will recive a price, but before that, the top three were recive an even better price. Now everyone submit their beast cores and come back in about three hours."