On this basis, the black pot had already provided the fastest possible recovery method under the current circumstances.

It was cut in half.

Still required fifty days of healing.

Still a bit long.

Need to think of another way.

After bathing and changing clothes with the help of the maids, Logan Brooks waved his hand to dismiss them.

He sat on a chair in the meditation room, resting and sipping tea.

His mind once again connected with the mysterious black pot in his mind.

Is there a faster way to recover from injuries when combined with the Tenfold Returning Origin Pill?

Blood-red characters floated above the mouth of the pot.

One must get help from someone who has cultivated the Haotian Divine Sword, to dispel the residual Haotian sword energy within the body. Combined with the effects of the Tenfold Returning Origin Pill, full recovery can be achieved within thirty days.

Healing time shortened to thirty days.

The effect was remarkable.

But Logan Brooks's face turned as black as the bottom of a pot.

According to the literal meaning, his injuries were caused by the Haotian Divine Sword.

It takes the person who tied the bell to untie it—there’s nothing wrong with that logic.

But the problem is, the Haotian Divine Sword is the unique skill of the Sword Pavilion Master.

Trying to send his subordinates to learn from the Sword Pavilion Master— even if the master was willing to accept them, could they learn it in just a few dozen days?

As Logan Brooks was pondering, that jade pendant suddenly rang again on its own.

This time, it rang twice in a row.

Hearing the sound, Logan Brooks became more alert.

Just now, when the chief steward asked for instructions, it only rang once.

Now it rang twice—could it be someone else?

This time, he also flicked the jade pendant twice with his finger.

Soon, the door opened, and an old man in gray appeared.

“Your servant greets the Hierarch.”

Among those kneeling outside the door earlier, he was one of them, seemingly the leader.

The old man in gray, just as before, respectfully performed a grand salute.

Logan Brooks asked in a casual yet authoritative tone, “What is it?”

The old man in gray bowed his head and replied softly, “Reporting to the Hierarch, a letter has arrived from the main headquarters. I would not have dared to disturb you, but before your last closed-door cultivation, you instructed that any letter from headquarters must be reported immediately.”

Logan Brooks nodded. “Bring it here.”

The old man in gray presented a blue cylinder.

Logan Brooks took out the letter from it and read its contents.

“There are rumors circulating within the cult that the Hierarch was injured in the duel with the Sword Pavilion Master. The Elder Faction is thus in turmoil. Your subordinate will do everything possible to trace the source of the rumors.”

Logan Brooks fell into thought.

Comparing it with the blood-red information provided by the black pot earlier, the original owner of this body, as the youngest Hierarch in the history of the Demonic Cult, ascended to the throne at a young age by subduing all rivals with his unparalleled martial prowess.

After becoming Hierarch, he promoted many newcomers.

From this, it could be inferred that the interests and status of the old guard in the cult had been shaken.

Now, within the Demonic Cult, there might be a conflict between the Elder Faction and the Young Faction.

Previously, the Hierarch’s word was law.

But now, he might be facing a backlash from the Elder Faction.

With the Hierarch injured and his strength diminished, it was hard to guarantee that some people wouldn’t start making moves.

Logan Brooks felt a headache coming on, but outwardly remained calm as he put away the letter.

“In the three days I’ve been in seclusion, has there been any new movement in the Vast Land of Divine Zhou?”

The old man in gray replied respectfully, “Reporting to the Hierarch, these days the Vast Land of Divine Zhou has been abuzz with tales of your earth-shattering battle with the Sword Emperor. The world is in awe of your mighty reputation.

According to reports from our followers everywhere, those petty villains who oppose the Divine Cult are currently busy inquiring about you and the Sword Emperor, but none have dared to act rashly.”

Logan Brooks nodded noncommittally, then changed the subject: “Pass down my orders—find some things for me.”

He told the old man in gray the names of materials such as Crescent Moon Immortal Milk and Desolate Illusion Grass.

In addition, he added many other items, making it hard for others to discern his true objective.

After listening, the old man in gray respectfully said, “Your servant will see to it at once and will not disappoint the Hierarch.”

He did not get up immediately, but after a slight hesitation, said, “Hierarch, Miss Evelyn just requested an audience. What do you think…”

Miss Evelyn?

Who the hell is that?

Logan Brooks was roaring inside.

Chapter 3: Outwardly Calm as an Old Dog, Inwardly Panicking Like Crazy

Miss Evelyn...

Ying Evelyn?

Logan Brooks recalled that part of his life experience.

He tapped his fingers rhythmically on the armrest of the chair.

Ying Evelyn.

A very mysterious woman.

Before the Demonic Cult Hierarch’s duel with the Sword Pavilion Master, he had accidentally picked up a girl.

A person with amnesia.

Her martial arts skills remained, but she had forgotten her past—a young girl.

After the duel, the Demon Emperor recuperated here, and Ying Evelyn was also brought to this manor.

At their first meeting, he had already instructed the cult members to investigate her background.

However, despite the Demonic Cult’s strict intelligence network, little was known about Ying Evelyn.

It aroused much suspicion.

This was the weak point in that character’s backstory—it couldn’t reflect personal relationships... Logan Brooks felt a bit of a headache.

Who knows how deep the entanglement between this Miss Evelyn and himself, the Demonic Cult Hierarch, once was?

Amnesia...

In a way, the two of us are in the same boat.

As Logan Brooks was pondering this, he suddenly heard the old man in gray speak up, somewhat hesitantly.