The Seven Sisters and Their Hidden King

Dolly is a cultivator?!

If John had been present, he would have immediately noticed that the former leader of the Central Martial Arts League, Dolly, was not just a martial artist—he was a cultivator.

Chester stood frozen, a storm of emotion playing across his face.

He remembered a time long ago, when his father was nothing like the man he'd become. In Chester's early childhood, Dolly had always been a kind and gentle parent. But that changed more than twenty years ago. Seemingly overnight, Dolly's personality underwent a complete transformation—cold, distant, even cruel. Alongside the shift in demeanor, his strength had skyrocketed.

Chester never dared to question his father. On the few occasions he tried, Dolly had simply refused to answer, brushing him off with a cold glare. Something about it had always felt... unnatural.

Meanwhile, deep within the Alps Mountain—at the hidden sanctuary of the Cinnabar Sect—

John and Tracy had arrived at the foot of the towering peaks.

The range was vast, wild, and uncharted. If not for Nancy's jade compass, John admitted it would've taken them days, possibly weeks, to locate the sect. Maps were useless in this terrain—Nancy's foresight had proven invaluable.

Thankfully, Nancy had already returned ahead of them and informed the sect leader, Mark, of everything that had transpired in the outside world. So when John and Tracy approached the guarded entrance of the Cinnabar Sect, they were not met with hostility. Instead, they were respectfully escorted to meet the leader.

Mark, an elderly man clad in flowing black robes, exuded a quiet but commanding presence. His skin was ruddy and radiant—clearly the effect of numerous health-preserving pills. Unlike the low-grade elixirs sold in mortal markets, the pills crafted by the Cinnabar Sect were superior in quality. Their cultivators lived significantly longer lives than those of other sects.

When Tracy expressed her willingness to join the sect, Mark's eyes gleamed with delight. So long as the Holy Fire Tripod returned to their hands, he had no qualms about who wielded its power.

In truth, the moment he laid eyes on Tracy, he had sensed something exceptional in her—purity, strength, and an untapped potential that was rare even among sect disciples. He had already decided to personally groom her.

Tracy, however, wasted no time. She clearly stated her terms:

"Mr. Leonard, I'm willing to join the Cinnabar Sect—but only if my freedom won't be restricted."

She did not want to be locked away in a secluded mountain for the rest of her life, cut off from the people and places that still mattered to her.

Mark nodded knowingly.

"Of course, Ms. Linch. Our sect has always honored freedom. No one here will chain your feet."

His tone was gentle, but then his expression turned more serious.

"However, I must warn you—do not reveal the tripod's existence, especially while you remain within the Alps Mountain."

Though the region wasn't as perilous as Circle Mountain, it was still home to many ruthless cultivators. Greedy eyes could easily turn deadly if word spread of the Holy Fire Tripod's presence.

Within the Cinnabar Sect's protective array, Tracy would be safe. But outside those boundaries, danger lurked in every shadow. Once she left the Alps entirely, things would become safer. By then, she would have mastered the Scripture of Queen Cyan, which would allow her to completely mask the tripod's aura.

That meant in the future, even if she used the tripod to concoct medicine at the Feazer Medical Clinic, no cultivators would be able to detect its presence. She could avoid another disastrous night like before, when three sects had converged in pursuit of the tripod's energy signature.

Still, caution was paramount. She couldn't afford to be reckless. Using the tripod openly in front of other cultivators would be the height of stupidity—not a question of aura concealment, but of basic sanity.

To minimize risk, Mark decided that as few people as possible within the sect should know about the tripod.

Turning to Nancy, he instructed:

"Make sure the disciples who accompanied you during the search remain silent about everything."

"Don't worry," Nancy replied calmly. "I already warned them. They won't speak a word."

Mark nodded with satisfaction.

"Take Ms. Linch to perform the secret entry ceremony. After that, guide her to the back of the mountain and begin teaching her the Scripture of Queen Cyan."

"Understood."

Compared to that fateful night, Nancy now looked at Tracy with new warmth and respect.

"Ms. Linch, please come with me."

Tracy turned briefly to glance at John.

John reached for her hand, gently pressing her palm.

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"Go on, Tracy. If anything happens, just call my name through the amulet."

"Okay," she whispered, offering him a small smile before following Nancy, doing her best to ignore the attention from the gathered crowd.

After she was gone, Mark suddenly looked at John, his eyes glinting with curiosity.

"I heard from Nancy that you're quite... talented."

John offered only a vague shrug.

"Maybe."

"Are you a sword cultivator?" Mark asked pointedly.

"No," John replied without hesitation.

Mark said nothing more, but his gaze lingered thoughtfully on John's face.

He had already heard Nancy's report and suspected that John was either a powerful sword cultivator or a rare sorcerer. The fact that John denied being a sword cultivator seemed to confirm the latter.

What Mark didn't know was that John wasn't a sorcerer either.

He wasn't lying when he said he wasn't a sword cultivator—despite being able to wield the Excalibur, John only knew a single technique. The potent sword aura Nancy had sensed that night didn't come from John himself but from the Lucky Mirror hidden in his palm.

So technically, he hadn't deceived anyone.

After a moment of silence, Mark spoke again.

"John, would you come with me for a moment?"

John nodded and followed him without question.

They arrived at a vast training ground nestled deep within the sect's compound. In the center stood an imposing tower with an aura of mystery and reverence.

The Cinnabar Tower.

It stretched twelve floors into the sky, its presence dominating the surrounding land.

Mark gestured toward it.

"This tower is our sect's greatest treasure. From the first floor to the tenth, we house elixir tripods of varying qualities. The higher you go, the rarer and more powerful the tripods become."

A knowing look flickered in his eyes.

"Would you like to go inside and test your fate?"