The Seven Sisters and Their Hidden King

The Cinnabar Tower.

This tower was the treasure vault of the Cinnabar Sect—sacred and heavily protected.

Given its importance, why would Mark allow an outsider like John to enter?

John raised an eyebrow, suspicious. "Why are you being so generous, letting someone like me into your sect's treasure house?"

He didn't believe in handouts. Even though Mark seemed easygoing, John knew nothing ever came without a price.

He stayed alert.

Mark simply smiled. "No need to be so on guard, John. Our disciples often go in to select a suitable elixir tripod for their cultivation."

"But I'm not one of your disciples," John replied bluntly.

Mark changed his approach. "I heard you call Ms. Linch by her name. Are you two... siblings?"

John shook his head, then nodded slightly. "No, not siblings. But our bond is deeper than that."

Mark nodded approvingly. "Good. Ms. Linch will need time to master the Queen Cyan Scripture. How long it takes depends on her talent. In the meantime, why don't you go pick out a tripod for her?"

Seeing John's continued confusion, Mark added, "She already has the Holy Fire Tripod, but we need to keep it secret. So, she'll need a second tripod to cover for it. The quality doesn't matter. Whether it's you or her who chooses it, makes no difference."

That made sense.

Tracy only needed one genuine tripod. The second was a decoy, meant to throw off suspicion. Its compatibility or grade wasn't important.

But John still asked, "If it doesn't matter, why not just go in yourself? Why drag me into it?"

Mark hesitated, then said, "Well, the colors and designs of the elixir tripods vary. You know Ms. Linch's preferences better than I do."

John laughed and clapped Mark on the shoulder. "Didn't expect you to understand how women think. I'm impressed."

But in his heart, he remained wary.

I still don't buy it. You're up to something, old man.

John was certain there was a trap inside the tower.

Still, he was never one to back down. If Mark wanted him inside the tower, fine—he'd go take a look. And if things went south, he was confident he could escape.

Another reason John agreed was that he had seen other Cinnabar Sect disciples enter and leave quickly. Most of them probably didn't go beyond the first or second floor.

That reassured him.

So, he decided to go in.

But as he approached the tower, something struck him. He turned back and asked, "Mr. Leonard, what's on the eleventh and twelfth floors?"

Mark had mentioned earlier that from the first to the tenth floor, the higher the floor, the better the tripods. But he hadn't said a word about the last two floors.

That piqued John's curiosity.

Mark gave a mysterious smile. "If you can reach the top two floors, you'll find out. If you can't, there's no point in me telling you."

John smirked. This old man's trying to provoke me.

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Well, it works.

Scoffing inwardly, John turned around and marched straight into the tower without hesitation.

Mark's eyes gleamed as he watched him disappear inside.

A few minutes later, Nancy arrived.

"Mr. Leonard? Where's John?" she asked, glancing around in confusion.

She had just helped Tracy begin cultivating the Queen Cyan Scripture in the secluded part of the mountain. Since Tracy's progress could be affected by distractions, Nancy left her to practice alone and came back.

Now, she couldn't find John.

"He's entered the tower," Mark replied, still looking at the entrance.

"What?" Nancy's eyes widened. "He's not even one of us! Why would you—?"

Then it hit her.

"You're using the tower's spiritual fire to test if he's a sorcerer, aren't you?"

Mark nodded gravely. "Exactly. The sorcerer's cultivation method is extremely violent. It agitates their emotions. The spiritual fire in the tower will provoke that aggression and expose what he really is."

John's strength, as Nancy had reported, made Mark uneasy. If John was a sorcerer, he would inevitably become a demon-level threat someday.

Maybe John still seemed calm and rational now. But over time, as he advanced in cultivation, the violence would overtake him.

And once it did, there was only one way to pacify that rage:

Killing.

This was why the cultivation world had a long-standing rule:

The sorcerer must be killed.

Initially, Mark had hoped John was a sword cultivator. But when he'd asked John directly, John had denied it.

That only left one possibility.

To be sure, Mark needed to draw out the darkness within him. And the best tool for that was the tower's spiritual fire.

Nancy understood now—but she still looked uneasy. "But if we want to push him toward violent impulses, he'll need to make it at least to the seventh floor. What if he doesn't?"