The morning mist hung over the Grand Administrative Plaza of the Inner City, where the grand stone arches of the Imperial Registry Hall rose high into the sky. Here, high-ranking guilds, wealthy merchant alliances, and noble family branches officially registered their titles, land holdings, and ancestral crests.
Gabriel walked down the white marble avenue flanked by Ethan and Elena.
Both twins wore tailored dark-navy combat coats with silver trim, their adaptive weapons resting comfortably at their sides. Walking a half-step behind Gabriel, their posture was composed, imposing, and sharp—a direct reflection of the grueling body-conditioning drills they had undergone under Gabriel's guidance.
Behind them walked Malakor, dressed in refined, dark-charcoal steward robes. To any onlooker, he appeared to be an attentive, quiet family butler, completely hiding the terrifying aura of a Peak Martial Master.
"Look... isn't that the commoner master who humiliated the Zephyrus enforcers?" "I heard Guildmaster Raymond personally handed him an S-Rank Obsidian Token!" "Who is that butler behind him? His walk... I can't sense a single drop of Qi from him. He looks like a shadow!"
Whispers rippled across the plaza as commoner merchants and low-tier noble representatives quickly parted, making way for Gabriel's group.
Gabriel stepped into the grand registration hall, where towering crystalline tablets displayed the recognized houses of the Southern Realm. The top tier belonged to the ruling House Valerius, followed by prominent merchant guilds and second-tier noble clans.
A senior registrar—a middle-aged man wearing official Imperial robes—looked up from his mahogany desk. When his eyes fell upon Gabriel’s cold, commanding presence and the S-Rank Obsidian Token resting at his waist, his polite indifference instantly transformed into formal respect.
"Greetings, My Lord," the registrar bowed, rising from his chair. "How may the Imperial Registry serve you today?"
"I am establishing a new family lineage," Gabriel stated calmly, his voice echoing across the high-ceilinged hall. "Register our title."
The registrar pulled out a golden, rune-engraved scroll and a magical ink quill. "Understood, My Lord. What is the designated name of your clan, and what is your family emblem?"
"The clan name is House Sterling," Gabriel declared, his eyes glinting with an unyielding light. "Our emblem is a Silver Sword crossed over a Golden Dragon."
House Sterling.
Ethan and Elena stood taller at their father's side, feeling a wave of pride wash over them. For eight years, they had been labeled as nameless, trash slum rats. Today, under their father's strength, their family possessed an official noble title recognized by the realm.
"House Sterling... Silver Sword over Golden Dragon," the registrar repeated, quickly inscribing the details into the golden scroll. He then held out a heavy, crystalline registration orb. "My Lord, to finalize the registration of a new clan in the Inner City, the Clan Master must input a strand of Qi to verify cultivation standing. This determines your clan's initial ranking and tax status."
Gabriel stepped forward and placed his palm onto the crystal orb.
He didn't unleash his full power. He merely allowed a microscopic thread of his Martial Master Qi to seep out from his palm.
BZ—ZZZ-T!
The clear crystal orb didn't just glow—it erupted into a brilliant, golden flash! Deep crimson and gold runes swirled inside the crystal, expanding rapidly until the base of the orb let out a sharp CRACK!
The registrar’s quill slipped from his hand, splattering ink across his desk as he stared at the cracked testing orb in sheer horror.
"M-Martial... Master Realm?!" the registrar choked, his voice cracking loudly. "A... a primary Clan Master at the Martial Master Realm?!"
In the Inner City, most newly registered third-tier clans were founded by Mid or Late-Stage Martial Scholars. A clan founded directly by a Martial Master was automatically classified as an Elite High-Tier Clan, skipping decades of bureaucratic evaluation!
"Is the registration complete?" Gabriel asked smoothly, pulling his hand back as if nothing had happened.
"Y-Yes, My Lord! Absolutely!" The trembling registrar frantically stamped the golden scroll with the official Imperial Seal, handing over three shimmering silver badges engraved with a sword and dragon. "House Sterling is now officially recorded in the Imperial Archives of the Southern Realm! You hold full territorial rights over the Azure Crest Estate, complete tax exemption for three years, and direct representation rights!"
"Good," Gabriel took the badges, tossing two to Ethan and Elena.
BZ—T!
The familiar crystal bell chimed clearly in Gabriel’s mind.
[Ding!]
[Major Milestone Achieved: 'Officially Established House Sterling as a Recognized High-Tier Clan'!]
[Triggering 500x Critical Return!]
[Host receives: Clan Ancestral Artifact — 'Sovereign Sterling Banner'!]
(When planted in the estate, increases all family members' internal Qi cultivation speed by 50% and passively repels mental/illusion attacks).
[Host receives: 1x Grade-5 Spirit-Herb Garden Seed Set!]
[Host receives: 150,000 High-Grade Spirit Stones!]
Gabriel felt the massive influx of rewards settle into his System inventory. A 500x multiplier just for filling out a registration scroll!
As Gabriel turned to leave the hall, a cold, arrogant voice boomed from the entrance archway.
"House Sterling? A nameless commoner dog dares to register a high-tier clan in our city?"
The crowd inside the hall gasped, rapidly backing away toward the stone pillars.
Stepping through the entrance was a tall, broad-shouldered man clad in blood-red heavy plate armor. His face was scarred, his eyes bloodshot with rage, and an overwhelming pressure rolled off him, crushing the air in the room.
Commander Drake Valerius—High Officer of the Valerius Inner Guard, an elite Late-Stage Martial Scholar, and the elder cousin of the Boris Valerius whom Gabriel had crippled in the Outer District!
Flanking Drake were eight heavily armored elite knights, all at the Mortal Physique (Gold Bones) stage.
Drake’s cold, lethal eyes locked directly onto Gabriel. "You're the crippled guard who dared to break my cousin Boris's spirit channels and humiliate the Valerius name in the Outer Ring."
Ethan and Elena instantly stepped in front of Gabriel, their hands gripping their weapons, their bodies lowering into the lethal stances of the Nine-Bones Iron Dragon Method.
"Stay back," Gabriel commanded softly, placing a hand on his children's shoulders.
Gabriel took a single step forward, looking at Commander Drake with bored indifference. "Another dog from House Valerius. Do they breed you all in the same arrogant mold, or do you just enjoy coming to me to get broken?"
Drake’s face twisted in murderous rage. He drew a massive, four-foot serrated broadsword, his Late-Stage Martial Scholar Qi erupting into violent, red flames around his armor.
"In the Outer District, you caught Boris off guard with cheap tricks!" Drake roared, raising his burning blade. "This is the Inner City! Here, the law of House Valerius is absolute! Hand over your limbs, or I will execute your trash children right here!"
Drake lunged forward, his broadsword tearing through the air in a lethal, flaming arc aimed straight for Gabriel’s neck!
Gabriel didn't draw a weapon. He didn't even shift his stance.
Behind him, Malakor’s eyes flashed with a dark, bloodthirsty crimson light.
WHOOSH!
Before Drake’s flaming sword could even descend three inches, a streak of pitch-black shadow crossed the room like a phantom blade!
BANG!
A slender, dark-scaled hand materialized out of thin air, catching Drake's massive, flaming broadsword with bare fingers!
The blazing red Qi on Drake's blade was snuffed out instantly.
Commander Drake’s eyes nearly popped out of his sockets as his entire momentum ground to a violent, jarring halt. He pulled with all his strength, but the broadsword remained completely immovable in the butler's bare grip!
"W-What?!" Drake gasped, sweat breaking out across his forehead. "Who are you?!"
Malakor looked up at Drake, his face pale, calm, and utterly devoid of emotion.
"A mere dog of a branch family," Malakor whispered, his voice sounding like two rusty blades scraping together directly inside Drake's ears. "You are not qualified to make My Master raise his hand."
Malakor flicked his wrist slightly.
CRACK-CRACK-CRACK!
Drake’s Grade-4 serrated broadsword shattered into a hundred iron fragments! Before the stunned commander could even scream, Malakor delivered an effortless, phantom palm strike directly into Drake’s chest!
THUD!
"AAAGH!" Drake spat a fountain of blood, his heavy plate armor caving in as he was blasted backward through the grand doors of the registry hall, tumbling fifty yards across the marble plaza before collapsing unconscious in a pool of his own blood!
The eight elite Valerius knights stood frozen in place, their weapons trembling in their hands, their faces completely drained of color as they looked at the quiet butler in dark steward robes.
Malakor slowly pulled out a clean white silk handkerchief from his pocket, casually wiping a speck of dust off his fingers before bowing deeply to Gabriel.
"My apologies, Clan Master," Malakor said smoothly. "A stray dog was barking too loudly. I have removed it."
Gabriel didn't even glance at the bleeding Drake lying out in the plaza. He simply adjusted his coat and walked past the paralyzed Valerius knights.
"Let's go home," Gabriel said calmly to Ethan and Elena. "Tomorrow, you prepare for your first official day at the Imperial Grand Martial College."