The Invincible Young Master

Chapter 175: Chapter 175 - Sky Emperor Holy Land

The old man waited for Zarak to respond. But when Zarak stayed silent, his eyes focused elsewhere, the old man followed his gaze.

High in the sky, barely visible against the bright morning light, was a small dot floating far above the city.

The old man's lips curved into a knowing smile.

"Ah, that floating thing," he murmured with a nod. "That's the Emperor Academy."

Zarak gave a slight nod, his gaze fixed on the tiny dot in the sky, as if it called to him in a way he could not ignore.

"I know it well," he murmured, his voice steady yet thoughtful. "That's the Sky Emperor Holy Land, one of the Seven Holy Lands."

Silence settled around him, and memories from his years in the mountain stirred, bringing to mind the ancient records he had studied.

These Seven Holy Lands were not ordinary places; they had existed for ages, each one a leftover remnant of powers far beyond what mortals could understand, shaped by beings who had moved beyond the bounds of the world long ago.

Those figures were nearly myths now, their memories faint as legends, but their lands remained as lasting symbol to their might.

Each Holy Land held its own unique power and wisdom, untouched by the mortal world. They were places that declared themselves beyond the common man, closed off to all but the rare few, shielding their secrets from those who could not grasp them.

These beings called themselves "immortals," souls who had somehow moved beyond the limits of death and time.

And of course, zarak belonged to one of such holy land.

He recalled his master' word: The holy land existed outside of mortal concerns, untouched by the passing of years.

And while the other six Holy Lands chose complete isolation, severing their ties to the outside, one was different.

The Sky Emperor Holy Land alone had chosen to remain connected to the mortal world. It was a place where anyone, regardless of their birth, lineage, or race, could enter; if they met the academy's standards. The doors were open to all who had the potential, no matter their origins.

It was an invitation for those who dreamed of something more, for those who dared to reach beyond their limits.

Remembering the old man's words, Zarak turned and asked, "Do people here call it Emperor Academy?"

The old man nodded slightly. "That's right. It is known as the gathering place for geniuses."

Zarak considered this, and a thoughtful look crossed his face. Being one of the Seven Holy Lands, it made sense for the academy to be highly selective.

A place of such renown would have to carefully choose its members from countless hopefuls.

In the holy land he came from, things worked similarly. Candidates faced intense trials, tests of strength, skill, focus, and more, all crafted to single out the truly exceptional from the rest.

Only those who proved themselves in every way could advance and earn a rare privilege: mentorship by a master.

For a young ascendants, having such a guide meant the difference between struggling in the dark and walking a brighter, surer path.

Some sat in quiet circles, discussing strategy and honing their skills, while others leaned against walls, their gazes sharp and focused as they watched potential rivals pass by.

He could see the determination on their faces, their eyes filled with dreams of glory.

He and the old man paused near a bustling square, where a group of young ascendants was sparring in a makeshift arena. Their movements were swift and graceful, each strike filled with a precision, and power.

Curious onlookers gathered around, cheering and gasping at the impressive display.

Zarak watched with quiet interest. Though he had no plans to enter the academy himself, he respected the drive he saw in these young contenders.

Beside him, the old man crossed his arms, chuckling as he watched the eager faces around them.

"There's nothing like the fire of youth," he remarked. "They come here with big dreams, ready to fight for their place in the academy. Some of them will go far...others, well, they'll have to find a different path."

The old man chuckled, glancing over at Zarak with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"So, did anyone catch your attention?" he asked, clearly amused.

Zarak took a moment, his gaze scanning the crowd before he nodded. "A few."

The old man raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And what's so special about them?"

Zarak's eyes swept over the young contenders scattered across the square. His gaze lingered, thoughtful. "One of them has an unusually strong soul power, it's rare to see someone here with such a refined spirit energy.

Another has an immense amount of raw energy, like a reservoir that has yet to be fully tapped.

Then there is another...his energy is different. It is faint but complex, maybe a dual or even a mutated soul. I think he might've sensed me, too."

The old man nodded slowly, impressed. "And the rest?"

Zarak shrugged, his expression calm. "Nothing that stands out. They're skilled, but nothing exceptional."

"Such confidence," the old man teased with a chuckle. "So, you think you could handle them all?"

A slight smile played on Zarak's lips, and he paused before answering, his voice steady and sure. "Unless those three joined forces against me, it wouldn't be much of a challenge."

[A/N: "Nah, I'd win." Ahh dialogue]

It was not arrogance, just fact. Zarak had trained among the best. He was the top seat back in the holy land, honed by years of intense training and powerful techniques.

The abilities and insight he possessed were things most young ascendants here could not imagine, no matter how much natural talent they had.

The two continued down the bustling street, with Zarak trailing slightly behind. After a few minutes of silent walking, he broke the quiet.

"Where are we going?" he asked, his gaze fixed on the old man's back.

The old man glanced over his shoulder with a faint smirk. "To my next destination."