A Waste of Time-Chapter 124: Dense Requiem

Days slipped by for the three of them. Daemon remained in the Azure Lock Chamber, sharing his time with Su An, while the old woman, Mo Qiuya, visited daily. Each time, she came bearing gifts—boxes of sweets and candies meant to coax the boy. But Daemon refused to touch even one. Su An, flustered and guilty, always ended up eating them instead.
Mo Qiuya’s patience wore thin. Her smile stiffened more with every visit, her eyes narrowing as though she were being mocked. Daemon, of course, enjoyed stoking her frustration. But he also knew when to stop.
So, on the seventh visit, he unwrapped a single candy under her gaze. He popped it into his mouth, letting the hard sweet roll across his tongue. The Grand Elder’s eyes softened instantly, her head bobbing in satisfaction as though she’d won a silent contest.
Then, unexpectedly, she turned her attention away from him and gestured toward the girl standing at her post. “Come.”
“Yes, Grand Elder Mo.”
Su An, who always kept to her humble station near the door, well outside the shimmering borders of the Temporal Seal Formation, hurried forward. She bowed deeply, fists cupped, her heart hammering in dread.
Mo Qiuya studied her face for a long moment before speaking. “Your name is Su An, correct?”
“Outer Disciple Su An of the Third Roster, at your service.” Her words trembled as she forced them out. Her thoughts were in chaos.
What did I do? Did she notice I’ve been eating the candies instead of Daemon? Will she punish me? Will Daemon defend me? Would his words even matter in front of her?
The weight of it all pressed hard on her shoulders.
Instead of reprimand, the old woman smiled. She opened her hand, and a pill materialized upon her palm, no larger than a fingernail—white in color, lined with streaks of red and orange.
A Warmfire Pill.
Su An’s eyes widened, but she had no chance to react. With a flick of the Grand Elder’s fingers, the pill was tossed into her mouth, sliding down her throat. Mo Qiuya rose, placed a hand gently on her shoulder, and said, “You’ve been doing well, taking care of little Daemon. It’s time someone rewarded you for your efforts. Keep up the good work, Disciple Su An. I trust you to look after him whenever I am away.”
She paused, as though recalling something important. “ to me the names of anyone who dares bully him. And do your best to protect him during the Sect-Competition.”
With that, the Grand Elder turned and departed.
The moment she was gone, Su An dropped to the ground, folding into the lotus position. Fire Qi surged wildly through her Spirit Roots, raging with intensity, threatening to tear her meridians apart if she didn’t seize control immediately.
Daemon rolled his eyes. “Don’t you dare break through your bottleneck sitting next to me. Leave the Formation before you hurt yourself—and me!”
Her eyes went wide with shock. She had been so swept up in the rush of cultivation that she’d forgotten entirely—forgotten that the boy beside her was frail, shackled in place, unable to leave even if his life depended on it.
Daemon almost cursed when Su An cracked her eyes open, her teeth clenched as she forced out: “You’re going to have to move me.” Her body trembled, Fire Qi raging through her meridians, and if she shifted on her own, she risked losing control completely.
“Damn it! Just focus on yourself then… such a clumsy Big Sister you are,” the boy muttered, grumbling as he forced himself to act.
He slipped behind her, circled her waist with his arms, and began dragging her inch by inch. Each step forward left him gasping, sweat rolling down his face. Still, he pulled her toward the border of the Formation, stubbornly refusing to give in until she was out of danger.
When they finally reached the shimmering barrier, Daemon moved to her front. Dropping to the floor, he braced himself and pushed at her knees until she slid fully outside the Seal’s range. Only then did he allow himself to exhale, safe from the backlash of her imminent breakthrough.
Come to think of it… I don’t even know what Su An’s Cultivation Base is. But I’d bet it’s below Jia’s,
Daemon thought as he leaned back against the cushion on his dais. His eyes narrowed, watching carefully.
Let’s see how many tiny clouds form around her Dantian during this breakthrough.
He counted silently. One. Two. Three. Four. …Five.
His lips pressed together in thought.
So, she’s about the same as Yan Ru. But Shen Li—the Twin-Swords bastard Ru fought first—was already promoted to Inner Disciple of the Mountain, and he was only one Sub-Realm higher than this girl. Was Su An deliberately held back? Or is there another reason she hasn’t been advanced?
Daemon sank deeper into the comfort of his cushion, still watching her with cool calculation. From the box beside him, he unwrapped another candy, slipping it into his mouth and letting the sweetness roll across his tongue.
Beyond the shimmering veil of the Seal, Su An’s Fire Qi flared violently. Sparks blossomed into roaring flames, engulfing her body and obscuring her image. Daemon squinted, studying the sight, and a memory tugged at him.
Her Fire Qi reminded me of the Martial Spirit I gave Jia.
His gaze grew distant, thoughtful.
It’s about time Ippo helped her with that. I just hope she’s reflected on what happened in her fight against Xue Liang. If she hasn’t realized anything after two weeks… then she’s just hopeless.
That day, Su An advanced to the Sixth Stage. The Warmfire Pill’s abundant medicinal energy surged through her meridians, most of it consumed in the forming of a new Fire Cloud within her Dantian—the key that propelled her into her breakthrough.
Yet even after that, the energy did not fade. What remained she guided carefully, steadying her breath, her focus sharp as she circulated it through every pathway. Bit by bit, she solidified her new foundation, tempering her Qi until it held steady.
By the time she opened her eyes, her aura had stabilized at the Peak of the Sixth Stage—only a single opportunity away from breaching the barrier into the Seventh.
Far from the Ten-Thousand Beasts Mountain, deep in the heart of the Burning Dawn Dynasty, the Capital—Crimson Horizon City—spread in all its majesty.
Within one of the White-Moon Syndicate’s luxurious mansions at the city’s center, the garden rang with wild sounds. A tiger’s furious howl clashed with the shrill screech of a bird.
Kyra, the tigress, lashed her tail as Kirin shamelessly muscled into her meal, stealing chunks of meat right in front of her cub, Kira. The fierce mother bared her fangs, planting herself firmly between her cub and the eagle. Her body coiled with protective tension—ready to snatch her little one by the scruff and flee, or fight to the death if forced.
Nearby, her “friend” prowled, a tiny but bold male, sniffing about and marking his scent on every female. Territorial, persistent—exactly her type.
“Kirin! Didn’t I warn you about bullying Kyra and stealing food?”
Tsk.
From his perch, the black eagle clicked his beak in disdain, his sharp eyes gleaming with intelligence—and scorn. He shot a condescending glance at the tigress for tattling, then down at the boy beneath him. To Kirin, Ippo was a joke. He was no Daemon, the one who had tamed and earned his respect.
The boy’s blood boiled at that look of ridicule. “Get back here!” Ippo shouted, pointing a commanding finger downward.
Scree!
Kirin answered with a mocking cry as he lifted higher, leaving a steaming, gooey pile of droppings to splatter across one of the garden’s great trees.
“Oh, you think you’re some hotshit now?!” Ippo roared, his voice cracking with fury. “You think just because you became a Magic Beast, I’ll let you throw your weight around in
my
place?!”
Crow!
That sharp caw sounded exactly like “True.”
It snapped the last thread of Ippo’s patience.
“Fuck… you!”
His eyes narrowed, his body split in two—and gasps rang out. Yan Ru and Yan Jia froze, knees trembling; Xia and Zhou Mei clutched each other in shock.
Darkness billowed from one clone, Fire from the other. Both stood solid, real—clones, yet one and the same. A skill that should have been impossible.
The cultivators weren’t stunned by the technique itself, but by the familiarity of the aura that rolled from Ippo. That terrifying resemblance to Daemon’s presence whenever his Killing Intent was unleashed.
The air thickened. Their knees shook under the weight of it. Even Kirin stiffened, his feathers rising on end. His playful arrogance evaporated, replaced by instinctive dread. With a shriek, he shifted to his true form—his eighty-meter body unfurling across the sky above Crimson Horizon City.
Tens of thousands of citizens looked up in awe, but none panicked. These were the bold people of the Capital. They saw only curiosity—what faction dared display such a mount so openly?
Scree!
“I said… DOWN!”
Red Lightning cloaked Kirin as he dove—but a crescent blade of flame rose up to meet him, cutting the air like a predator striking its prey.
The voice that followed was thunderous, raw, and childish, full of frustration. Ippo’s.
He grimaced. Using Demonic Descent meant he wouldn’t be able to call on it again for a full day.
Good thing I had that Hero Summon earlier,
he thought.
Otherwise, he would’ve slipped free before I could pin him here.
The Fire clone’s attack—Splitting Inferno—slammed into Kirin’s talons, driving the great bird from the sky.
“You’re lucky I didn’t aim for your neck,” Ippo snarled as the eagle crashed into the garden. “But I’ll be damned if I don’t beat you bloody today!”
And so it began—one boy, split into two bodies, against a Magic Beast.
For four hours they clashed. Yan Ru, Yan Jia, Xia, Zhou Mei, and the tigress with her cub all bore witness.
When it ended, all three combatants lay strewn across the ground, gasping, filthy, and spent.
Kirin looked pitiful, many of his feathers plucked or scorched, resembling more a balding chicken than the proud Soul-Snatcher Eagle he was. The girls burst into giggles at the comical sight.
The two clones of Ippo were no better, scratched and bruised from head to toe. Kirin had fought back viciously, trading blows for blows, answering flame with Lightning, shadow with claws. The eagle’s power was real. But so was the boy’s.
When the Darkness clone vanished and reappeared atop Kirin’s back, near his vital points, the eagle’s feathers stood rigid with primal fear. And when the Fire clone blurred forward, flames condensed around his feet to propel him with speed that rivaled storms, Kirin realized a grim truth.
If these two brats had wielded Weapons—real Weapons—the fight would have ended far sooner.
Especially the Blade.
Whenever Ippo trained with a Blade, whenever he swung it, an animalistic wariness stirred deep within Kirin’s blood. That boy was dangerous with any Weapon—but with a Blade in his hands, he was something else entirely.
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