Perhaps it was riding the Qingluan and witnessing the breathtaking scenery of Mount Shu, but everyone seemed much more relaxed.
Not long after leaving, lively chatter broke out.
Beidou and Liuyun discussed aspects of Mount Shu they didn't understand, but the topic quickly shifted to the exploration of the Nine Nether Secret Realm.
Even the War God Zhongli, undefeated in the hearts of Liyue's people, had returned gravely injured. He hadn't even crossed paths with the Nine Nether's Seven Kings—just two subordinate demon kings under them had been enough to force him into retreat.
That was the sort of place the Nine Nether Secret Realm was: unimaginably dangerous. Which, of course, made it the kind of story Beidou and her companions most enjoyed hearing.
Soon even Kaedehara Kazuha and Tartaglia edged closer, listening intently as Liuyun described those bizarre and perilous adventures.
The Jade-Armored Glass Beast that tempered only its flesh, surviving in the forbidden zones of life. The Moon-Howling Heavenly Wolf of the Northern Wastes. The Black Flood Dragon of the Eastern Sea, who proclaimed himself Dragon King and commanded tens of thousands of aquatic beasts…
And then there were the two supreme demon kings they glimpsed only briefly: the Snow Howl Beast and the Fire Qilin.
Just a probing clash between them had annihilated life for thousands of miles—a terrifying display of power.
Scene after scene, name after name—each made the listeners' hearts tremble in fear, yet burn with yearning.
Beidou and her group were realistic. Tempting as it sounded, they knew their current strength. Going to the Nine Nether wouldn't be an adventure—it would be suicide.
If even two Mount Shu First Seats and an Elder like Zhongli returned gravely wounded, what chance would disciples at the early Refining Essence into Qi stage have? They'd be nothing but cannon fodder.
But Tartaglia was already restless.
Death didn't frighten him. What he feared was losing opportunities for more perfect battles.
And right now…
He felt stronger than ever—at least far stronger than the "old him." Once he mastered Sword Control, he would be stronger still.
Even so, within the Nine Nether Secret Realm he would still be nothing more than a grunt. A subordinate under the Seven Kings wouldn't even need to lift a hand—a mere squad leader could crush him with ease.
To Tartaglia…
That was exhilarating!
A battle where the enemy wasn't impossibly strong, but close enough that life and death hung by a thread—that was exactly what he craved.
But such extreme thoughts absolutely couldn't be spoken aloud. Senior disciple Xiao of the Enforcement Hall was up ahead, and he was watching.
After some observation, Tartaglia understood things clearly: in Mount Shu, the Enforcement Hall was the one place you didn't want to cross.
And Xiao, the Head Disciple of the Enforcement Hall, was loyal to Mount Shu to the core.
He upheld the sect's rules with uncompromising severity—more than a duty, it was practically his creed.
For Mount Shu, that was a blessing. For disciples, not so much. Xiao's fairness was ironclad.
And he wasn't just strict—his strength was overwhelming. His spear, the Primordial Jade Cutter, was a spirit-grade weapon. His cultivation techniques were all aggressively battle-oriented.
In sheer combat power—without considering external boosts—Xiao even surpassed Ganyu.
When he glared coldly at Hu Tao in the main hall earlier, Tartaglia had felt it. Just a trace of that killing intent made his fighting spirit shrink back.
Tartaglia knew he wasn't qualified to challenge Xiao. The man could suppress him with nothing more than a look.
High-level cultivators' dominance over low-level ones was absolute.
If he dared voice his bloodthirsty excitement, Xiao would probably subdue him on the spot.
A pity. Still, Jiang Yan had already promised that in time there would be a Nine Nether exploration gathering. Then Tartaglia would be free to fight to his heart's content.
Not far away, Hu Tao was still chasing after Qiqi, trying to discuss business.
Cultivation was fine and all, but her dream hadn't changed.
Yes, cultivators lived long lives—but they also lived dangerously. Exploring secret realms could mean death. Crossing tribulations might prove fatal.
So of course cultivators needed funerals too.
Funerals for cultivators, paid in spirit stones—wasn't that reasonable?
With her mind made up, Hu Tao was determined to build a comprehensive Wangsheng Funeral Parlor: corpse herding, soul guiding, funerals all in one.
Elsewhere, Chongyun shyly greeted Shenhe. Family ties couldn't be denied; Auntie Shenhe was still Auntie Shenhe.
Fortunately, Shenhe had grown more open through cultivation. She could now exchange a few words of encouragement—reminding him to cultivate diligently, not to waste his Pure Yang body, not to fail the Sect Master's hopes.
And since Xingqiu rarely left Chongyun's side, Shenhe even spared him some words of guidance, much to Xingqiu's delight.
After all, Shenhe was already known as the appointed First Seat of Bamboo Peak. To Xingqiu, that was like securing a reliable backer.
It would also sound good when he told his family.
Speaking of which, his older brother had also taken the entrance trial—though only as an outer disciple.
That didn't dampen Xingqiu's spirits. Once his brother advanced to the Inner Sect, he might even have to call him "Senior Brother."
Backwards as that sounded… it was thrilling!
Meanwhile, Alhaitham had sought out Xueyue to ask questions about Morning Sun Peak. Ever methodical, their conversation stayed squarely on formations. Xueyue, always eager to teach, was happy to answer.
Furina and Clorinde had gone to the front, where they asked Ganyu and Jean about Tongtian Peak and Dragonhead Peak.
But Furina couldn't help noticing: whenever Ganyu mentioned Jiang Yan, her expression softened with a glow of happiness.
For a fleeting moment, Furina suspected Ganyu harbored forbidden feelings. But on second thought—it seemed unlikely.
Jiang Yan might always appear gentle, but he radiated a strong air of restraint, almost ascetic.
Furina comforted herself that she was imagining things.
She wasn't sure if she hoped Ganyu and Jiang Yan had something going on… or if she hoped they didn't.
If they did… would that mean she herself might have a chance?
Still, the most sought-after people were undoubtedly Lisa and Baizhu.
For one simple reason: they were currently the only disciples who could easily refine pills.
Anyone who'd read a cultivation novel knew the truth—Alchemists were among the most valued figures in the cultivation world.
Better to build good relations now. If they were pleased someday and gifted you a pill, who wouldn't be grateful?
Besides, when disciples explored the Nine Nether Secret Realm, they were allowed to keep part of their spoils. Since most had no skill in alchemy, they'd eventually need Lisa or Baizhu's help anyway.
In short, currying favor with senior disciples was the wisest move.
Tartaglia had just finished conversing with Baizhu.
Privately, he couldn't help scoffing.
Yes, he understood Baizhu's lifelong pursuit of immortality, and how deeply Mount Shu had fulfilled his dream.
But Baizhu's every word was about how disciples must dedicate themselves to Mount Shu's growth, support the Sect Master, uphold the rules, never disgrace the sect abroad…
Everything he said was painfully official.
And Tartaglia believed it—Baizhu wasn't posturing; he truly thought and acted that way.
Mount Shu was like a second set of parents to him.
If anyone dared insult the sect, Tartaglia had no doubt Baizhu would march across the land, blade in hand, to cut them down.
He was that loyal. Too official. Even a rooster wouldn't crow so stiffly.
Shaking his head inwardly, Tartaglia scanned the crowd again. He'd already greeted most of the senior disciples, even Keqing.
She hadn't held his Fatui identity against him. Since he'd passed Yelan's investigation, it was clear he hadn't committed atrocities. That was enough for her.
In Mount Shu, one's foremost identity was always "Mount Shu disciple." Only afterward came being a Qixing, or a Harbinger, or even a god.
Which left only one person he hadn't approached: Diluc.
And Diluc would be the hardest to talk to.
The man bore a blood feud with the Fatui—specifically because of that Doctor.
What rotten luck.
When the Doctor stirred up trouble, Tartaglia hadn't even joined the Fatui yet! To be burdened with someone else's grudge—it was infuriating.
Part of him wished he could drag that man out and thrash him.
Still, he was in Mount Shu now. He couldn't avoid Diluc forever, especially since Diluc was in the Enforcement Hall. If he held a grudge, Tartaglia could easily find himself suffering for it.
So he straightened his expression and approached Diluc with a smile.
Of course, Diluc noticed him instantly and frowned. He wasn't pleased, but he didn't avoid him either.
After all, the other man had passed every trial and entered as an Inner Sect disciple.
Diluc understood how strict Liyue's preliminary screening had been—if Tartaglia had committed atrocities, he would never have passed.
That proved he wasn't the same as the Harbingers Diluc despised.
Fellow disciples were fellow disciples. Diluc wouldn't start trouble, even if he still disliked the Fatui.
Tartaglia, though, only saw the distaste in his eyes. Scratching his head awkwardly, he felt troubled.
He had fought battles all his life. Each day he opened his eyes, he was either fighting, or on his way to fight.
Since when had he ever cared about "social niceties"?
Even among his fellow Harbingers, he could barely be bothered to interact.
And now he was trying to act like some kind of social butterfly? It was absurd.
But this was Mount Shu.
Here, his strength was decent, but not exceptional. Many were stronger. In the Nine Nether, he was just cannon fodder.
He had no grounds for pride.
Cultivation, it seemed… was also about connections.
Battle alone wasn't enough—he still needed resources to raise his strength.
Step-by-step cultivation took too long. How many years would it take him to reach Xiao's level that way?
In the end, the biggest shortcuts were pills, artifacts, and secret realm treasures.
But a pure fighter like him couldn't craft those himself.
So he needed help.
Baizhu, for alchemy. Liuyun and others, for forging artifacts. Bai Sheng, for a spirit beast companion.
Even Diluc—Tartaglia had ideas about him.
And all of that… came down to relationships.
So now Tartaglia found himself becoming exactly the kind of person he once looked down on.
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