The hammer-wielding man looked troubled. Lowell was renowned throughout the Palace, ranked among the top ten Qi Refining disciples. Young for his accomplishments, with an imposing appearance, even the hammer-wielding man recognized him instantly. He didn't want to offend Lowell.

  "That's simple enough. Junior Brother, I'm Lowell. Surely you've heard of me. How about stepping aside and letting my Junior Sister Quincy have her weapon forged first?"

  Though phrased as a request, Lowell's tone brooked no refusal. Leo was unfamiliar—Lowell knew most influential or powerful Qi Refining disciples by sight. Leo, though also at the Great Perfection stage, was likely one of those who focused solely on cultivation, neglecting combat strength. The Palace had plenty of those.

  "Yes, Junior Brother Leo, could you let me have my damaged sword repaired first?"

  Quincy's voice was sweet and pleading. Leo wasn't handsome, but his eyes were unusually calm and deep, possessing a unique quality absent in other aggressive disciples.

  Leo frowned. The last thing he needed was this trouble. He didn't want to offend someone like Lowell, surrounded by followers and obsessed with pride. Refusing would humiliate him publicly, making an enemy for life. But yielding meant losing time—entering the Bloody Battlefield with an unsharpened blade would ruin its surprise. The deposit was a fraction of the dozens of materials he'd already used. Why should he swallow such a loss?

  Quincy was beautiful, but Leo had encountered female cultivators using their looks to trap him in the Moonwatch Mountains. He hadn't survived this long by being easily swayed.

  "I've heard of you both, Senior Brothers and Sisters. Normally, I'd gladly yield the contract. But I've signed up for the Bloody Battlefield. Entering without a proper weapon would be suicide. I hope you'll understand." Leo chose his words carefully, maintaining courtesy.

  "Easy solution. I'm entering the Bloody Battlefield too. Join my team—I'll keep you safe."

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  Lowell smiled confidently. Leo was clearly mediocre, otherwise he'd be known. Lowell kept dossiers on all threats to his ranking. In the Bloody Battlefield, ordinary disciples were cannon fodder, surviving only under their leader's protection. Leo couldn't refuse such an offer.

  "Thank you, Senior Brother, but I prefer to rely on myself." Leo replied.

  "What?" Lowell couldn't believe his ears. Such generous terms, refused?

  "Shall I repeat myself?" Leo asked. These people, accustomed to getting their way, thought they could impose on anyone. Refusing would earn their enmity either way; no need for excessive politeness.

  "Insolent brat! Disrespecting Senior Brother Lowell—courting death!" A brocade-clad youth snarled before Lowell could speak.

  "Yeah, teach him a lesson!" Two more lackeys threatened.

  "You're just a Qi Refining disciple. Do you realize the consequences of speaking to me like that?" Lowell's shock turned to fury. No one had ever treated him thus in the Palace.

  "Entering the Bloody Battlefield without a proper weapon is suicide. The worst you can do is no worse than that. If you want to fight in the marketplace, do it now. If not, I'm leaving." Leo turned and walked away.

  "Fine! It's been long since anyone dared speak to me like that!" Lowell ground his teeth, lightning aura crackling around him, hair rising without wind.

  His followers scattered. Lowell, descendant of a Foundation Establishment master, might face light punishment for fighting in the marketplace. They wouldn't be so lucky.

  "Don't be angry, Senior Brother. He's still in the Palace—plenty of chances to deal with him." The brocade-clad youth urged.

  "Right, Senior Brother. Don't court punishment on my account. We'll get him later." Quincy's eyes flickered.

  "Fine. Since Junior Sister Quincy says so, we'll let him off for now. He'll regret this." Lowell's voice was venomous.

  Back at his inn, Leo reflected on his bad luck. But he didn't dwell on it. He'd deal with problems as they came.

  He took out the worn linen cloth and two black scales from his boundary space. The cloth, seized from Hann, had wrapped the Foundation Establishment Pill bottle. Though shabby, it had perfectly concealed the pill's potent spiritual energy. It was no ordinary item.

  But no matter how he infused it with spiritual power, it was like a stone dropped into the ocean—no response. He'd tried repeatedly. Perhaps it only concealed spiritual auras. Nothing more. Then he examined the scales, the only items from the black-robed old man's pouch he hadn't figured out.

  Leo smiled ruefully. These scales, like the cloth, defied his efforts. He recalled the hunched old man in the Scripture Depository Hall, studying similar scales. Were they the same?

  "Perhaps the time isn't right." He could only conclude.

  His weapon issue was temporarily resolved. For now, Leo stayed at the marketplace inn. In his spare time, he refined healing pills. Morning and afternoon, he scoured the marketplace, buying anything interesting.

  But good items were snapped up immediately by other cultivators. Once, he missed a key ingredient for Rejuvenation Pills. Frustrating. However, he did learn of an upcoming auction in Pond Peak Town, several hundred miles east. Large amount of Ten Thousand Beasts Pavilion and Demonic Sun Sect disciples would pass through. The auction might feature rare treasures.