I Only Wanted to Stay Unseen, Until...

Stepping outside, Pay Honine caught sight of Pay Ling clutching the rulebook as if it were a priceless treasure and let out a derisive scoff.

"Clan brother, is this rulebook just for show or what?" Pay Ling's heart skipped a beat at the dismissive tone, prompting him to ask hurriedly.

Pay Honine shot him an odd look. "How could it be? The Holy Sect didn't toil over all these rules and regulations just to let them gather dust."

He clapped Pay Ling on the shoulder. "But… well, you'll get it once you read it."

Before Pay Ling could question further, Pay Honine pointed into the distance. "Now that your soul lamp's lit, you're an outer sect disciple. Next stop is the Affairs Hall to pick up your disciple robes, nameplate, and such. Hurry up—Affairs Peak doesn't let outsiders stopover. After sunset, anyone not worked from the hall who sticks around is deemed a rule-breaker. And I am not joking."

Pay Ling straightened up at once. "Aye!"

The two quickened their pace toward the Affairs Hall. The tower building loomed grand and imposing, its sprawling grounds dotted with ornamental trees and bustling with people coming and going.

What caught Pay Ling's eye most, though, were the two phantom ghosts hovering at the entrance. They were hulking, muscular, three-meter-tall, clad in battle armor, radiating raw power. One gripped a war hammer, the other hefted a spear blade. Their pallid faces bore no expression, only cold, pitch-black eyes that scanned the crowd with an icy stare.

The sight reminded Pay Ling of Joanie and Willow, sending a twitch through his cheek. He averted his gaze and stuck close behind Pay Honine as they entered.

Inside, the hall was a cavernous space teeming with activity. Disciples darted about, all seeming rushed and preoccupied.

Pay Honine wasted no time. He strode purposefully to a corner, found an attendant disciple, and explained the situation. Soon, that disciple returned with a set of outer sect robes, a fist-sized storage pouch, and a segment of finger bone.

The robes and pouch were standard enough, but the finger bone? It looked eerily lifelike, warm to the touch, and even twitched faintly. A shiver ran down Pay Ling's spine.

"This is your nameplate," Pay Honine said, holding up the bone and pointing to the characters "Pay Ling" etched onto it at some point. His tone turned serious. "This is the most important thing you own now. Never lose it, no matter what! The sect's arrays recognize the plate, not the person. Wander into restricted areas without it, you die. And blame to you."

Pay Ling nodded solemnly, tucking it carefully into his robes.

"Alright, it's getting late," Pay Honine said, glancing at the sky as they left the hall. "Let's find you a place to stay."

With that, he gingerly pulled a two-inch paper boat from his sleeve—the kind a child might fold for fun. Tossing it forward, the boat expanded rapidly. In two breaths, it grew to the size of a common riverboat with a woven canopy.

Pay Honine ushered Pay Ling aboard, formed a hand seal spell, and the paper boat lifted off the ground, drifting unsteadily away from Affairs Peak toward a slender mountain not far off.

Compared to the Bone Tomb Vessel, this paper boat was laughably slow and shaky—worlds apart in every way. However, back on that shadowy vessel, Pay Ling had been too tense to enjoy the view. Now, though the ten-day deadline loomed over him, the system's presence gave him confidence. He relaxed enough to take in the scenery.

"Clan brother, what's beneath this sea of clouds?" Pay Ling asked, admiring the rolling waves of mist before pointing downward. "What kind of places are down there?"

Pay Honine gave him a strange look. "So curious, huh? Why don't you go check it out yourself someday?"

Sensing something off, Pay Ling let out a dry laugh and changed the subject. "By the way, does the mountain we're heading to have a name? What's it called?"

Pay Honine smirked oddly, about to reply, when a vibrant rainbow feathered bird suddenly barreled out of nowhere. With a clumsy flap, it crashed headlong into the paper boat.

"My ship!" Pay Honine's face twisted in alarm. He hurriedly formed seals to stabilize the wobbling craft, shouting, "Whose birdnix is this, so reckless?!"

The bird, dazed from the collision, shook its head. Then, with a sudden flap of its wings, it shot off at startling speed, vanishing into the cloud sea in an instant.

It came and went so fast that, if not for the gaping hole in the boat, Pay Ling might've doubted it happened at all.

His heart raced as he stammered, "Clan brother, are these birdnix birds really so careless?"

Just moments ago, he'd thought Pay Honine's paper boat was decent enough. Now? He saw it for what it was: flimsy paper, far too fragile for safety.

"…" Pay Honine's expression darkened. "Those idiots at Beast-Taming Peak—do they even know how to train these feathered livestocks?"

Before he could finish, the boat shuddered again.

The brothers whipped their heads around, stunned to see the same bird returning!

This time, it was sneakier. It had lurked nearby before striking, smashing into the boat once more and tearing another chunk out of it.

"Damn it!" Pay Honine's face paled with shock and suspicion. "Who's targeting me on purpose?!"

He scanned the surroundings, but all he saw was the churning cloud sea. The birdnix, after its hit-and-run, slipped away into hiding again.

With Pay Honine's cultivation strength, he couldn't even track it.

"Clan brother, can you speed up?" Pay Ling's nerves frayed. Sure, he was at the fourth layer of Qi Refinement, but he couldn't fly. The mountain ahead was still a ways off. If the boat gave out, Pay Honine might have a solution for himself, but Pay Ling? He'd crash.

"Bastard! You think I'd dawdle if I could go faster?!" Pay Honine snapped, his face ashen. "Shut the—"

Another violent jolt cut him off.

The birdnix was back!

This time, it didn't just hit the boat—it struck viciously at the hull a few times with the beak before flapping off with a smug swagger.

Pay Honine stared at his battered boat, eyes bloodshot with fury. But years in the Abyss Pit Sect hadn't been for nothing. In this crisis, he kept his wits. After a tense moment of thought, he shouted, "Pay Ling, hold on tight!"

Before Pay Ling could respond, Pay Honine rapid-fired hand seals. Ignoring the boat's damage, it surged forward with a burst of speed, hurtling toward the mountain.

The birdnix, lounging smugly nearby, froze in surprise before flapping its wings to give chase.

With its innate racial gifts, the bird harried the boat relentlessly, striking again and again like it held a deep grudge. Soon, the paper craft teetered on the brink of collapse. Even amid the frantic speed, Pay Ling could hear it creaking apart loudly. His heart pounded with dread, but he was powerless—only able to watch as the boat sailed over a forest and abruptly exploded.

A blast of air flung both him and Pay Honine skyward before they crashed down hard.

Branches and leaves snapped under their fall until they slammed into the soft forest floor!

"Pfft—ack, pfft, pfft!" Pay Ling scrambled up, coughing and disheveled. His first move was to check his belongings—especially the nameplate. All still there.

Relief flooded him, but it was cut short by the sound of chaotic footsteps approaching from nearby.