Honorary Disciple

178. Honorary Disciple

The Martial Abbey formed the very foundation of New Terra. It commanded the highest respect and prestige.

H.A.R.M. and the Vampire Hunters operated independently from the government precisely because they fell under the Martial Abbey's jurisdiction.

As one of the Abbey Masters, Reverend Thompson's words fully represented the authority of the Martial Abbey.

Can you stay here?

Arnold Stark stood dumbfounded. After all, who in New Terra—whether from H.A.R.M. or the martial world—wouldn't jump at the chance to join the Martial Abbey?

It possessed the finest equipment, rarest elixirs, and an endless collection of precious martial arts techniques.

And in terms of support, who could rival having a living Fifth Realm warrior backing them?

They rarely needed to extend invitations—their reputation alone attracted the most talented people in the world.

Yet in this moment, Reverend Thompson stood waiting for General Kane's response.

"Stay in the Martial Abbey and serve the golden statue." A complex expression crossed the old man's cloudy eyes. This youth's talent was unprecedented—he could absorb all the energy released by the golden statue, which filled the elders with both awe and distress.

This only further proved his immense value.

They were quite reluctant to let him go.

After deliberation, they resolved to keep the young man—a prudent choice indeed.

Aisha Patani stood quietly with her hands folded in front, observing me.

This was exactly what she had anticipated.

Given John's extraordinary talent, even the prestigious Martial Abbey could not afford to lose him.

What surprised Aisha most was how these Abbey Masters had cast aside their usual aloofness to actively pursue him.

He had only met John once.

What transpired during the Martial Abbey Cleansing?

"What are the benefits?" I asked, looking over with curiosity.

"Benefits?" Reverend Thompson's eyelids twitched. In all these years, the Martial Abbey had never pursued anyone to join—and now this youngster was trying to negotiate terms?

He closed his eyes, calmed his mind, and opened them again. "We stay here for only one purpose—to build a golden statue and break through to the Fifth Realm. This place has the most abundant resources and power of faith."

Reverend Thompson shook his head. "Don't assume you have all the time in the world just because you're young and talented. A thousand years passes in the blink of an eye. Once you truly immerse yourself in this path, you'll discover that time is never enough."

"Therefore... stop wasting your precious life on these pointless matters, like Cascadia. When the Wards of Nature have time to spare, they will handle its problems naturally."

These few words cast a deep gloom over Arnold Stark's mood.

While it might seem like a simple matter to resolve once the Wards of Nature were free to act, the reality meant prolonged suffering for tens of millions in Cascadia, the loss of H.A.R.M. generals, and the deaths of countless Vampire Hunters.

Yet measured against a thousand years, these events seemed trivial indeed.

The common people reproduced as rapidly as weeds.

The generals were more valuable, but with sufficient power of faith, they could be replaced.

From the Martial Abbey's perspective, this was merely a temporary setback. Once they resolved their other problems and had resources to spare, they could reclaim the territory from the vampires.

As a Vampire Hunter in Cascadia, he couldn't fault them for this stance.

After all, if these other threats remained unsolved, losing Cascadia would be the least of their concerns.

… …

I fell silent for a moment, then looked up and said, "Then I must respectfully decline."

The unlimited power of faith, combined with New Terra's unmatched talent and knowledge, would guarantee advancement to the Fifth Realm.

The problem was... my talent was merely an illusion.

Upon hearing these words, Arnold was left more stunned than before, his head spinning with disbelief.

Reverend Thompson's message was crystal clear.

If General Kane accepted, he wouldn't merely join the Martial Abbey as a disciple—he would be groomed as its future leader.

This offer carried great weight.

Yet he declined without hesitation. Perhaps General Kane's devotion for Cascadia ran deeper than anyone realized?

At this thought, Arnold's eyes filled with deep admiration as he gazed at the young man.

"Alas," Reverend Thompson sighed, as if he had anticipated this response.

Only kindred spirits can truly understand one another.

In their youth, they too had been arrogant, believing themselves to be unmatched talents who could break through realms as easily as eating or drinking. Back then, why would they have bothered with patience or worried about time?

The old man stood up, retrieved a long metal box from his storage tool, placed it on the table, and asked with exasperation, "Can you at least register as an honorary disciple?"

Kane was still young—there would inevitably come a day when he would see things differently. They had all gone through this phase themselves. Though he wished Kane could learn from their experience and avoid such detours... Well, at the very least, they couldn't let those Martial Orders recruit him first.

Anyway, this kid was also a H.A.R.M. general, and he would still go with the Path of Redemption after returning to Cascadia. It would be later, but that was fine.

… …

Arnold, Aisha, and I stared at the metal box on the table.

A flash of realization crossed Aisha's clear eyes—she seemed to have guessed something.

From Reverend Thompson's words, it was clear he intended to recruit me.

Whatever lay within this metal box had to be more significant than a mere middle-grade treasured weapon.

As expected, when the old man opened the metal box, it revealed a weapon that had been carefully chosen to match the saber at my waist.

"I was worried you wouldn't be able to use the new weapon effectively, so I took a long time to carefully select this one."

The straight blade had a cold, muted sheen, its surface covered in tooth-shaped scales whose etched lines glowed with a fog-like black light.

"The name of the saber is Hidden Abyss, a top-grade magical weapon."

"It can pierce the body of Vampire Kings and provides protection for the soul. Even when facing the Blood Moon Vampire King—whose magic collapses the soul and forces it to abandon its body—wearing this saber will shield your soul."

Reverend Thompson drew out the long saber and tossed it to me.

I caught it and examined it carefully. "Is there no scabbard?"

Reverend Thompson let out a soft sigh. "Should I give you another set of armor as well?"

Really?

I looked up to see the old man had already turned and was leaving the yard. He left only one parting statement: "Since you've accepted the saber and seem satisfied with it, consider yourself registered as an honorary disciple of the Martial Abbey."

This was no ordinary top-grade saber—it had been specifically chosen to counter the Vampire King in Cascadia.

The condition—joining the Martial Abbey—was an opportunity others could only dream of.

Even Aisha Patani herself had never received such privileged treatment.

She found that since she traveled with John, she encountered one extraordinary experience after another.

Suddenly, she saw the young man in black armor remove the saber from his waist, test Hidden Abyss in the scabbard, then turn to her and ask, "Can I return half of it first?"

"..."

Aisha walked over and reached for the black saber. The metal felt warm against her skin, and the blade carried the lingering scent of vampire blood.

It was clearly the same to the one in her memory, but it somehow felt entirely different.

It seemed that he had walked a long way for her old friend, gave this experience to her, and was about to embark on a new journey.

She looked at the black and gold scabbard at his waist, a gentle smile crossing her lips. "Of course!"