Lena only looked silently at Micro with a raised eyebrow at his mention of magicians, but his words immediately caused a change in the courtyard’s atmosphere. The disciples who had been diligently training all turned to inspect the guest, and a group of five noble looking cultivators appeared behind them. Their robes were yellow, but their gold and silver patterns glistened, and gem-filled ornaments decorated their long, braided hair. The woman who stood at the centre of the group carried herself with a confidence that Micro now recognized, and she looked at him as if looking down at an interesting bug on the ground.

  “You must be the heir to this place,” Micro said with a friendly tone, though he was aware of her hostile reaction. “Nice to meet you. I’m Micro.”

  “I greet the honourable Imperial Guard.” The young woman nodded gracefully, and her eyes narrowed as she addressed Lena, half whispering. “I am Dayra, heir to the Water Serpent Moon Sect. I can not imagine what business you have here today, but you and your interesting attendants are most welcome in our humble sect.”

  “I am nothing more than an observer on this occasion,” Lena answered, holding back an expression of disgust. “I am here as a guest of the leader of the Truck Sect.”

  “The what—” Dayra let the confusion caused by Lena’s words settle before taking a deep breath and lifting her chin a little higher. She looked back down her nose at Micro. “You are the leader of a sect about which I know nothing. I wish to hear the reason for your arrival at our door, but I also hope you would be clear in your reason for bringing word of magicians into our sect.”

  “I guess you don’t like magicians either, huh?” Micro replied softly. “Do you meet many of them here?”

  “We do not!” Dayra snapped, her eye twitching as she did her best not to lose her temper. “There are many noble guests present today, and your careless words may disturb the ruling class of the mundane with whom we have diligently established mutually beneficial relationships.”

  “Hmph…” Lena smirked, but Dayra did her best not to turn away from Micro.

  “Well, I’m not here to talk about magicians anyway,” Micro shrugged as a group of finely dressed mundane guests were ushered away from the scene by several sect disciples. “I’m looking for Lo.”

  “Ex—Excuse me?” Dayra stuttered as her composure slipped further away. “How do you—”

  “I promised Ray I’d fight Lo after getting an amber core,” Micro explained, his casual words sending waves of shock through the crowd of onlookers.

  “Ray…!” Dayra could only gasp.

  “He used to live in a dungeon your sect would be familiar with, so I figured it would be a good place to start my search,” Micro continued. “I’d appreciate if you could—”

  “I’ll let you handle this,” Lena suddenly interrupted Micro. “It would be best to keep the matter simple.”

  “What do you mean?” Micro began in confusion, but a purple blade suddenly extended toward his neck. Micro had no trouble guarding his neck with his Turtle Art armour, but he turned around in panic to see Kolt and Kira being held by two cultivators with yellow robes, similar purple blades hovering near each of the scared children’s necks.

  “You’ll answer every question I ask, or your little friends will suffer greatly,” Dayra said with a cold tone. “I expect the honourable Imperial Guard will not be interfering? It is a matter between two sects beneath your level, yes?”

  “It is indeed beneath me,” Lean replied. “Although, I’m not above enjoying the show.”

  “You…” Dayra frowned in anger at Lena’s words, but she hesitated to voice her complaint.

  “How amusing that you should pull such a stunt with the most honest person you’ll ever meet…” Lena chuckled, then addressed Micro. “I apologize for my rambling, young master. I’ll leave you to it now.”

  Lena’s words reassured Dayra at first, but the air suddenly shifted in a way that caused her to take a step back reflexively. Micro moved away from Dayra, completely exposing his back to her long sword, but she hesitated to challenge the armour which coated his body. Instead, she watched in disbelief as Micro waved his hands and created a mysteriously bright flash of energy which blinded the two cultivators in front of him. As their vision returned, they saw that he had reached out with both hands and taken hold of the blades at the children's’ necks, yanking the metal weapons away.

  “Sit!” Micro shouted at Kolt and Kira.

  “Huh?” Kolt let out a confused yelp, but Kira quickly grabbed her brother’s shoulder and pulled him down to the ground as the cultivators loosened their grip on them, attempting to pry their weapons away from Micro’s grip.

  “It’s weaker than Ura’s poison!” Micro grunted as he wrestled with the two cultivators’ swords. “But it’s still not very polite!”

  The swords were made of low quality metals, but they were coated in a poisonous aura that quickly corroded his armour and dug into the skin of his hands. The remaining two cultivators who had accompanied Dayra then stabbed at Micro’s arms, and breathed with relief as the tips of their swords broke through his armour and made contact with his skin.

  “I see…” Micro mumbled peacefully as an ethereal box grew up out of the ground and enclosed Kolt and Kira. Suddenly, the purple glow of the four swords faded, and a white glow replaced it. “Two elements really are a lot stronger than one.”

  “Impossible…” Dayra gasped as the swords of her four subordinates began to attack their wielders with a poison she didn’t recognize. The four glowing weapons fell to the ground and the four cultivators stumbled backward in pain and confusion. They grasped their hands, where a mysterious aura produced by Micro had stung them by means of their own swords, and a dense cloud of smoke filled the air around them.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “If I only had the water version of the Serpent Art, my poison might only be able to repel yours,” Micro explained, turning back to Dayra now that the four attackers were disarmed, coughing in the midst of a mysterious cloud. With his feet rooted to the ground, he could only turn his head slightly to acknowledge her at first, but he slowly managed to take several steps while maintaining the shield around Kolt and Kira.

  “You were a master of the Serpent Art?!” Dayra grimaced. “But the element… How…?”

  “Having the Amber Fire Serpent Art card as well makes this a lot easier,” Micro continued. “And I’m glad I don’t actually have to bite people for the Amber Fire Poison Skill to work.”

  “You just—Was that really the Serpent Art?” Dayra stammered. “But that, that was something… That light—”

  “The light you just witnessed was the result of Micro mastering several Core Cards in as much time as it takes you to blink,” Lena interjected, still standing calmly nearby. “He is now the master of both the Amber Fire Serpent Art and the Amber Water Serpent Art, among others…”

  “I was worried that six amber Core Cards would be too heavy, but I was ready for them this time,” Micro stated casually.

  “That…” Dayra whispered, but with glowing eyes she was able to confirm that the technique Micro had used could not be mistaken for anything else.

  “There’s a lot of ways to use these,” Micro added with a deep sigh. Micro’s feet began to glow as his roots extended deeper into the ground, and Dayra was too stunned by his display of her sect’s sacred techniques to react to the translucent shell which then appeared around her. Dayra’s subordinates had already lost consciousness by the time Dayra was completely trapped, and Micro added a final feature to the box.

  “No! Stop!” Dayra screamed, her voice muffled by the shell-like structure of energy. She tried to corrode it with a poisonous slash with an ethereal sword, but she was shocked even further to see the wall heal itself faster than she could damage it.

  “Energy drawn up from the ground below with the Mycelial Art…” Lena said with amusement. “And then used to make a prison with the Turtle Art, which is protected against poison by the Serpent Art, filled with poison created through the Poison Skill. Do you mean to kill her before she can answer your questions, or do you wish to speak directly with the sect leader?”

  “The Poison Skill is pretty versatile,” Micro replied. “It’s difficult to explain, but the poison itself is more like energy of a specific nature. It’s not hard to adjust its nature, although there’s a limit to how specific an effect it can have.”

  “And what is the nature of this poison which you have created today?” Lena asked.

  “I didn’t hold back as much as I should have with those four cultivators, so they’ll be asleep for a long time,” Micro explained, then pointed at Dayra’s prison. “But the poison in there is basically just engine exhaust.”

  “You went to the trouble of weakening but not killing them?” Lena asked. “I’ll remind you that you’d be dishonouring them greatly by showing them sympathy, not that they have any honour to boast of after making hostages of those helpless children.”

  “In large doses it can kill a person, but that should be enough now,” Micro replied, then released the glowing box around Dayra. “I don’t feel like killing anybody today.”

  “You monster—” Dayra was lying on her side coughing and wheezing, unaware that she had been freed from her prison until several moments had passed. During the brief moment of respite from the strange battle, Micro noticed a large crowd of cultivators staring at him with expressions ranging from surprise to admiration, creating a surprisingly warm atmosphere. Several of the cultivators were discussing the techniques they’d witnessed, pointing at Dayra and Micro while sharing their thoughts on the battle up to that point. Micro then noticed several groups of non-cultivators in fancy clothes mixed in among the crowd of onlookers.

  “I guess we’ll make some friends after all,” Micro mumbled with a look of fatigue.

  Dayra eventually rose to her knees, unable to balance without keeping one hand on the ground, and her sword had fallen too far from her to reach. She feebly extended her hand to her blade and attempted to draw it nearer to her using the Moon Art’s tidal force technique, but the strain it placed on her body resulted in her coughing up blood.

  “That was an impressive display of power, young master,” Lena congratulated him. “I assumed you would kill them for daring to touch your little friends.”

  “It wasn’t necessary,” Micro replied quietly, raising his hand to his shoulder and releasing Kolt and Kira from their relatively comfortable protective shell.

  “Were you certain your hands would not be cut by their weapons?” Lena asked, looking closely at his uninjured hands. “Were they to rely more on the Moon Art, you may have had unforeseen issues.”

  “I panicked at first, but mastering those core cards gave me some time to think about it a bit more clearly,” Micro said, gesturing to the two children to come toward him. “I realized how weak they were.”

  “You… Agh!” Dayra grumbled, but was unable to speak between coughing fits. Many spectators shook their heads in disappointment while watching Dayra stumble around, barely able to keep her eyes focused on a single point in space.

  Micro shrugged as Dayra ultimately failed to stand up again, and his attention was drawn to an old woman walking slowly through the crowd toward him. She reminded Micro of Kel’s grandfather with her sturdy presence, but her gaze was much more difficult to understand. Kel’s grandfather was a straightforward elder, but the old woman walking toward him now seemed as mysterious as she did powerful.

  “Are you the sect leader?” Micro asked while waving to her with one hand.

  “Yes,” she answered with a hushed voice. “You are Micro, master of the Truck Sect?”

  “News travels fast in a small town, huh?” Micro remarked. “Even without any proper roads to travel on…”

  “I was preoccupied with matters of local politics…” The woman sighed as she glanced at Dayra. The woman’s hair was grey, but the skin on her expressionless face seemed young. If not for the authoritative air around her and the depth of her gaze, Micro wouldn’t have assumed she was any older than Kel. The old lady continued to speak with a wry smile. “I see you have met Dayra, my favourite disciple…”

  “I think I just became friends with these folks here,” Micro continued, waving his hand to gesture to the five cultivators on the ground around him. “These are my pa—I mean, my disciples. We’d like to ask for your help with something.”

  “I think you’ve proven yourself to be a worthy guest,” the leader of the Amber Water Serpent Moon Sect said quietly as she looked around at the smiling faces of those who had gathered to observe the altercation, then nodded. “My disciples appear quite distracted by your presence indeed…”

  When the sect leader added a harsh tone to her words, the crowd began to disperse, and cultivators rushed back to their training. In little time, the courtyard was once again quiet, though Dayra’s laboured breathing still awkwardly resounded.

  “Somebody put these children to bed,” the sect leader demanded, directing her voice at nobody in particular. Several disciples immediately rushed to Dayra and her four sleeping subordinates and carried them away, despite Dayra’s weak protestations. She then addressed Lena with a cold tone. “Will you be joining us for a less interesting sort of conversation, honoured Imperial Guard?”

  “I think I shall,” Lena replied, grinning at Micro. “I may find answers to questions not yet asked, after all.”

  “This way,” the old woman said, then began guiding them through the courtyard.

  “What is your name, by the way?” Micro asked.

  “You may call me Ling,” she replied quietly. “Though not many do…”