Floating Island - Triple S Talent - Chapter 534

Chapter 534: Spirit artifacts – 5 stars
“Elder Lein, we finally meet again,” Thurok greeted with a broad smile. The old man walked at a relaxed pace, holding a toddler in his arms as he came to a stop in front of Lein and Efan.

Lein returned the gesture with a warm smile, his eyes then falling on the little girl Thurok was carrying. “Such a beautiful girl,” he said sincerely, noting her fair skin and innocent eyes.

“Hahaha, thank you, Elder Lein. She’s my granddaughter, from my eighth child,” Thurok said proudly, patting the child’s back gently, his voice filled with the kind of pride only a grandfather showing off his greatest treasure could have.

Lein was a little surprised. He already knew Thurok was one of the senior elders, but he hadn’t expected someone so old to still be this close and proud of his family. In a world as harsh and full of intrigue as theirs, it was a rare sight.

Their small talk continued for a while. Thurok began to speak about his family—his children, his grandchildren, and how he still played with them from time to time despite his duties as an elder. Lein listened quietly, valuing each word the old man shared.

But the tone of the conversation began to shift when Thurok brought up the matter of missions. “By the way, have you completed your elder mission, Elder Lein?” he asked, carefully observing Lein’s expression.

Lein gave a slight nod. “Yes, I’ve completed the task of killing the Grandmasters. The rest… may take some time,” he answered flatly, though his voice carried a firmness that was impossible to ignore.

Thurok nodded in understanding. Assassinating Grandmasters was difficult, but still within reach for a powerful elder like Lein. However, the remaining task—eliminating a Lord-level individual—was an entirely different matter. In his mind, Thurok knew that one would need to be at least a Second-Tier Lord and possess a grasp of the laws of power to stand a real chance at success in such a mission.

“Very well, Elder Lein. You know your own capabilities best,” Thurok replied sincerely. He seemed ready to change the subject, but a faint crease appeared on his brow. “Forgive me for asking, Elder Lein, but have you found a mentor to guide you in absorbing the essence of law? If not… I may know someone who would be willing to help.”

Lein fell silent for a moment. He recalled what Efan had said earlier—that Thurok had come looking for him, most likely for this very reason. In the past, such an offer might’ve made him hesitate. But now? Not anymore. He already had Dragnar—a Fourth-Tier Lord—who, as his slave, was entirely under his command.

Still, there was something Lein wanted to know. So he chose to respond truthfully.

“Thank you for the offer, Lord Thurok,” he said calmly, yet with firmness. “But I already have a teacher now.”

Thurok was taken aback. His gaze sharpened, clearly surprised. “Who?” he asked outright, unable to hide the curiosity in his tone.

“I bought him from the slave market,” Lein replied calmly, his eyes fixed on Thurok.

There was no arrogance in his voice, just a simple statement of fact. But it was enough to make Thurok’s eyes widen. For a moment, he seemed at a loss for words.

From the change in his expression, Lein could tell the old man understood just how rare and expensive a slave with Lord-level strength was. Thurok’s reaction wasn’t just shock—it was astonishment mixed with awe and disbelief, like he had just realized that something he deemed impossible had been achieved by Lein with unsettling ease.

“Hahaha… you never cease to amaze me, Elder Lein. In that case, allow me to offer my congratulations,” Thurok said with a genuine laugh. His smile widened warmly, and his gaze now held an even deeper respect than before.

“Then I can rest easy. With you here, this sect will have another powerful Lord to rely on,” Thurok continued, his tone full of hope. There was pride in his voice, but also an unspoken recognition that Lein had crossed boundaries only a rare few could ever reach.

Lein merely gave a small nod. He was fully aware that his status as an Honorary Elder granted him immense freedom. He could leave the sect at any time without being bound by internal rules. All of that was thanks to Luxador’s wild gamble—the Sect Master’s willingness to bear the risk just to draw Lein into their fold.

“Lord Thurok, I want to ask you something about the Law Manifestation Zone,” Lein said without preamble, his tone serious.

Thurok turned toward him attentively. He could tell this wasn’t a casual question.

“There are two things I want to know. First, how to store a Law Manifestation Zone. Second, how to store a Law Seed.”

Thurok looked surprised, though only for a moment. His brows lifted briefly before settling again. He seemed curious about the intent behind the question but chose not to ask directly.

“Elder Lein, of course it’s possible. But I have to say upfront—the cost and conditions are far from cheap,” Thurok said after taking a deep breath, clearly weighing his answer carefully.

“You can purchase a Law Manifestation Zone from any Chamber of commerce, as long as it’s rated three stars or higher. But to store it, you’ll need something called a Four-Direction Formation. It’s a five-star spirit artifact,” Thurok explained while watching Lein’s face, as if expecting the information to catch him off guard.

But Lein only gave a small nod, his expression as flat and calm as ever. No reaction, as though a five-star spirit artifact was nothing out of the ordinary.

Internally, Thurok could only sigh. It was hard to read this man. Lein showed no greed, no surprise, not even a flicker of curiosity. Everything about him was composed—too composed.

“And what about the Law Seed, Lord Thurok?” Lein asked again, cutting through Thurok’s train of thought.

Thurok blinked, then nodded and continued, lowering his voice slightly as though afraid someone else might overhear.

“To store a Law Seed, you’ll need an artifact called a Void Chest. It’s also a five-star spirit artifact,” Thurok replied carefully, his gaze turning more serious this time.

To Thurok, such an item was a treasure of the heavens, something far beyond the reach of ordinary individuals. Only the most prominent figures from major factions or sky empires could hope to possess one.

Lein gave a small nod, showing respect for the information he had just received. In his mind, the price wasn’t the main concern—what mattered was seeing the item in person so he could replicate it. As long as the object could be found, the problem was as good as solved.

Fortunately, the artifacts he needed could be obtained from five-star Merchant Chambers. However, one thing piqued Lein’s interest: to his knowledge, not a single five-star Merchant Chamber operated within the territory of the Sanctus Lux Realm. That only made him more curious about the whereabouts and distribution routes of such an organization.

“Thank you very much, Lord Thurok. Your explanation has been very helpful.” Lein gave a slight, polite bow, showing respect to the old man.

“Hah, think nothing of it, Lord Lein. I hope you break through to Tier-2 Lord soon,” Thurok said, his voice carrying genuine hope.

After that, Lein took his leave. Together with Efan, he made his way back to his residence—a modest but sturdy home, far from the sect’s central grounds.

***

Meanwhile, far from them, at Primary Fortress #8, the situation was completely different. Chaos had erupted.

The island that once stood firm amidst the void was now in ruins. Buildings had collapsed, and the land was torn asunder, dividing the former territories of the Maledictus Sect and Invictus Sect. The once-clear border had vanished, replaced by utter devastation.

A single sword slash had split the central landmass, leaving behind a terrifying spatial fissure stretching hundreds of meters. The lingering aura of law around the impact site made it clear just how powerful the attack had been.

Lightning and light crackled wildly in the air, generating spatial ripples that rang out like bell chimes in the void. Amid the chaos, two figures stood facing each other.

Darius, tall and broad-shouldered, wore a black robe with silver lining. His expression was serious as he stared at the handsome man across from him. That man held a long sword radiating golden light, its brilliance stark against the backdrop of destruction.

“Damn it… they actually sent him,” Darius muttered in a low, heavy voice. His eyes narrowed sharply.

He had assumed the Maledictus Sect would send a Tier-2 Lord to clean up the mess Lein had made. But instead, they’d sent a Tier-3 Lord—just like him. Worse, the man had a natural elemental advantage that suppressed Darius entirely.

Darius clenched his fists. The massive gauntlets on his hands trembled, exuding a thick black aura—like a miniature dark universe filled with dead, unlit stars.

“Darius,” the handsome man spoke, voice firm yet calm, “hand him over. Do that, and I’ll let you keep control of Primary Fortress #8.”

His tone was casual, but the pressure behind his words seemed capable of warping space itself.

Darius didn’t respond. He simply gave a bitter smile and lowered his gaze slightly. In his heart, he recalled Luxador’s orders—the sect leader who had entrusted him with this fortress—and the even more important command: protect Lein at all costs.

“I hope the Sect Master’s gamble is worth it,” he muttered under his breath. Tensing his muscles, he shot forward, his body turning into a massive shadow crashing through space.

“Tch. So you’re choosing to die for him? Fine,” the handsome man said coldly, his voice sharp as a blade.

He raised his sword overhead and unleashed several powerful slashes toward Darius. Each swing tore through the air, leaving behind trails of energy that shattered space itself.

Without giving him a moment to breathe, the man charged as well, closing in on Darius, who kept moving, dodging, searching for an opening amid the storm of sword strikes.

Blow after blow collided. The empty skies around them trembled like fragile glass trying to contain their power. Each punch and slash carried the law—raw, refined essence of the forces that shaped reality.

Because their attacks were too destructive, the two of them kept shifting their battlefield, clashing in still-intact void regions. They were like twin storms tearing through the last remnants of peace that lingered around the fortress.