In truth, he was quite proud inside: hundreds of disciples pursued his sword energy, a glory belonging to a true teacher!

The Sword Lecture Hall was instantly emptied.

It was time for the menial workers to begin their tasks.

Brian Carter held a rag in his hand, scrubbing the stone wall with all his might, leaving not a trace of dirt. As he wiped, he reached the spot where a jade piece was inlaid, and his movements unconsciously slowed.

He remembered that when he cleaned here the evening before last, there was something like a tortoise shell placed there. He had stared at it for a while and even experienced a hallucination.

“This must be the sword puzzle.”

Although Brian Carter was just a lowly menial, he was diligent and self-taught, so he actually knew quite a bit.

The sword puzzle was mysterious and powerful. He couldn’t resist standing still, focusing his gaze on it—though as for reaching out to touch it, he absolutely dared not.

The Sword Manor’s rules were strict and management rigorous; things that shouldn’t be touched must not be touched. As for thoughts of theft, he didn’t even dare to imagine them.

Precisely because of this effective governance, Henry Clark felt at ease leaving the sword puzzle on the stone wall, without fear of it being stolen. Besides, the carrier of the sword puzzle was branded with a unique restriction mark; unless it was broken, if anyone tried to take it, they would be caught red-handed in no time.

Brian Carter didn’t understand these things. He simply stared fixedly at the jade piece, as if it contained an indescribable magical power that held his gaze fast—

His eyes were deep, profound, and clear as water, without a trace of other emotion.

Splash, splash...

The sound of rippling water, but what he saw before his eyes was not flowing water, but countless threads of light, as fine as silkworm silk.

The lights were tangled together, like a huge ball of messy yarn. Intertwined and chaotic, impossible to unravel; staring at it too long made one’s head spin.

But Brian Carter stood as steady as a mountain, his gaze unwavering, unmoved.

Finally, after who knows how long, the tangled lights were smoothed out by an invisible force, separated. One by one, strand by strand, like drawing silk from a cocoon, they gradually faded away.

At last, when all the surrounding lights had been unraveled, what was wrapped inside was revealed.

A sword!

A miniature, illusory lightsaber, fully formed in both shape and spirit, only three inches long and two fingers wide.

Suddenly, the lightsaber seemed to sense an external disturbance, and in a flash, it turned into a blurry phantom, like a drop of water shooting straight toward the center of Brian Carter’s brow.

Brian Carter instinctively squeezed his eyes shut, breaking free from the illusion—

“What a lazy Brian Carter, daring to slack off!”

A furious shout, like thunder, rang in his ears.

Brian Carter was startled, unable to react before a sharp pain struck his right shoulder—a blow had landed. He looked up to see the sullen, fat face of Deacon Reed.

“Deacon Reed, why did you hit me!”

The youth’s stubborn protest only made Deacon Reed even angrier: “So what if I hit you? I now declare, you’re fired!”

“Fine, I’ll leave!”

Brian Carter threw the rag in his hand hard onto the ground: If I can’t stay here, there will be somewhere else for me. I’ve long had enough of this humiliation.

His tough stance truly infuriated Deacon Reed, who thought that simply firing him was letting him off too easily. But since the words were already spoken, and with other menials present, he couldn’t go further. So he decided to expel the boy from the mountain, never to employ him again—at least it vented his anger.

Brian Carter walked out, casually packed up his things—just some daily clothes, bundled into a small bag. Then he used his rice coupons to exchange all ten jin of stored spirit rice, carrying it in his hand.

Throughout the process, Deacon Reed supervised him closely, but didn’t care about the boy’s ten jin of spirit rice. After all, previous menials received three taels of welfare each month, and many saved up bit by bit until they had a whole number, then took it down the mountain to trade.

“Boy, you’ve taken everything that’s yours. Anything that isn’t, you won’t take even a leaf. Once you leave Zhongnan Mountain, you’ll never be employed again. You’d better pray to the gods for a bowl of food in the future, so you don’t starve to death. Now, get lost.”

“Leave Zhongnan Mountain, never to be employed again?”

Brian Carter chewed over these words, unwilling to accept it: “Deacon Reed, don’t look down on people. One day, I’ll be back.”

“Hahaha!”

Deacon Reed burst out laughing: “Brian Carter, oh Brian Carter, you really are hopelessly stupid. You, come back to Zhongnan Mountain? Pure wishful thinking. Enough nonsense, get out of here.”

Brian Carter looked back deeply one last time, then strode away, descending the steps.

Chapter 8: Scoundrel

The Sword Performance Arena stretched a hundred zhang in every direction, its ground paved with extremely tough Qingshan rock, meticulously polished and perfectly flat. Stepping on it felt solid and steady.

On the field, more than two hundred new generation disciples sat in a circle, holding their breath and widening their eyes, afraid to blink for fear of missing a once-in-a-lifetime scene.

In the center of the circle, Henry Clark stood proudly, exuding the bearing of a sword master. In front of him, about three zhang away, stood a freshly cut tree trunk, about as thick as a bowl.

Suddenly, he moved. The sword at his waist rang out as it was drawn, the sound like a dragon’s roar. His hand moved, but his feet remained rooted, not shifting an inch.

Shh shh shh!