Lightning king

Jack walked out of the guild hall, his figure disappearing into the crowd.

Lei Han, with slow, deliberate steps, approached the receptionist's desk. His expression remained neutral at first, but as he neared Claire, a wide smile spread across his face — a smile that seemed warm at a glance, yet felt strangely out of place.

"Can you give me the contract you were about to hand him?" he asked quietly, his voice calm, his face still plastered with that unsettling smile.

Claire, caught off guard by his sudden approach, instinctively glared at him for the interruption. However, her irritation quickly melted away when she met his eyes—cold and razor-sharp, like steel cutting through her confidence.

A shiver ran down her spine, and she lowered her eyes, hastily pushing a contract paper toward him. It was originally meant for Jack, but now it seemed better suited for this moment.

"This is a contract given to us by a small merchant for a low grade medicinal herbs" claire said

Lei Han's expression softened into a faint, calculating smile. "This will do."

Just as his fingers reached for the contract, another hand shot out, snatching it away before he could take it.

Lei Han's eyes narrowed as he turned to face the thief.

It was Lars a brash and hot-headed adventurer known for picking fights. He held the quest paper up with a smirk.

"Don't think you can get away with intimidating the receptionist in front of everyone," Lars said, his voice loud enough to draw attention from nearby guild members

The tension in the air thickened as Lei Han met Lars' challenging gaze with an icy calmness.

"Don't think you can just intimidate the receptionist and take whatever you want. Not while I'm around."

A ripple of tension spread through the guild hall. Conversations faltered as eyes shifted toward the confrontation.

Lei Han met Lars' glare with icy indifference. His voice was quiet, measured.

"Hand it back."

Lars chuckled, his smirk widening. "Or what? You think you can scare me with that cold stare of yours? Intimidation might work on others, but not on me.

"I suggest you hand that back," Lei Han said quietly, his tone even and deadly.

Lars' smirk widened. "You think you're above the rest of us don't you?"

The tension in the hall grew thick, eyes shifting between the two.

Lei Han's gaze remained cold and unflinching as he stared at Lars.

"Is that so?" he murmured, his voice dangerously low.

Before Lars could react, A hand clamped down on Lars' shoulder heavy, unyielding, like iron. The pressure sent pain shooting through his body, and he grimaced, feeling his bones snap. His bravado crumbled in an instant. His knees buckled, and beads of sweat formed on his brow.Lars didn't dare turn around to see who or what stood behind him nor did he scream of intense pain from having a crushed shoulder. His instincts screamed that any movement would seal his fate.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Lei Han's unsettling smile return.

Should I kill the bug?" a deep voice rumbled from behind Lars, low and menacing.

Looking at Lars terrified face.Lei Han's smile softened, almost mockingly. "No need," he replied casually. "He might still be of use."

As the word left Lei han's mouth.The unseen hand released its grip, and Lars staggered but remained rooted in place, too terrified to move.

Lei Han stepped closer, leaning in until his cold eyes locked with Lars'. His voice was low, barely a whisper, but it cut through the silence like a knife.

"Do me a favor… Keep an eye on the junior for me."

Lars swallowed hard, nodding stiffly. He didn't need to ask who the 'junior' was Jack. The message was clear.

Satisfied, Lei Han plucked the contract from Lars' trembling hand. His tone remained calm as he added,

Lars nodded again, his pride crushed beneath the weight of his fear.

Lei Han straightened, the eerie calm returning to his demeanor as if nothing had happened. With the contract in hand, he turned away, leaving Lars frozen in place.

Whispers began to stir among those who had witnessed the scene. Wary glances followed Lei Han as he left the hall.

Lars stood frozen, his mind reeling, until a hand tapped his shoulder.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," the figure behind him teased.

Lars blinked, snapping back to reality. He instinctively touched his shoulder, wincing at the phantom pain.

"You didn't see him?" Lars asked, his voice shaking. "The guy… He broke my shoulder."

The figure frowned, confused. "What are you talking about and broke your shoulder ?Your shoulder is fine."

Lars looked down at his shoulder, flexing his arm. His eyes widened in disbelief. His shoulder was completely intact — not a scratch, not even a bruise.

"No… It happened," he whispered to himself. "I felt it."

The figure gave him a concerned look. "Maybe you're losing it, Lars."

Lars shook his head slowly, his gaze drifting toward the guild's exit where Lei Han had vanished.

"No… I'm not."

But deep down, he knew that whatever had happened wasn't normal. The fear lingering in his heart told him that much.

The whispers continued, and the guild hall buzzed with unease. Yet all Lars could hear was the quiet echo of Lei Han's chilling words.

"Keep an eye on the junior."

And Lars knew he would.

"An immortal cultivator…" The thought echoed in Lars' mind, his throat tightening as if the very realization had seized his breath.

His legs trembled as the weight of his fear sank in. Immortal cultivators — untouchable beings who walked a path beyond mortal comprehension. To cross one was to invite death, or worse, a fate that could leave a man broken in both body and soul.

.....

Jack's POV

Exiting the guild, Jack was met with the bustling sight of a lively market square. The streets were packed with people, stalls lined with colorful wares, and the air filled with the scent of spices, roasted meat, and freshly baked bread.

Jack paused for a moment, taking in the vibrant scene. His gaze swept over the crowd, watching the exchange of coins, laughter, and the occasional heated argument.

"Now that I'm here, let me take a good look," Jack murmured to himself, stepping further into the crowd. "I've got time before meeting Lin Ao."

As he wandered through the market, his attention was drawn to a row of meat stalls. The sizzling sound of skewered meat over open flames and the mouthwatering aroma made his stomach growl in anticipation. Juicy cuts of beef, lamb, and poultry hung from hooks, seasoned to perfection and dripping with grease.

He paused, considering for a moment. I could really use a bite. His hand drifted toward the pouch hanging at his waist, feeling the small weight of his hard-earned coins.

He opened the pouch and counted the contents. "Three silver coin and ten copper coins," he muttered, recounting his meager savings from the herb-picking venture with Lin Ao. Most of it was borrowed from Lin Ao in the first place.

Jack sighed, shaking his head. "I'd better save it. No point wasting money on a meal when I'll need it for more important things."

Reluctantly pulling his gaze away from the food stalls, Jack pushed deeper into the market. His eyes scanned the bustling crowd until something unusual caught his attention . His gaze shifted toward a quieter street, where a modest, newly furnished shop stood. The exterior had a simple wooden sign that read:

"Ironfang Armory."

Jack's eyes narrowed with interest. I need to learn weapon arts. The thought burned in his mind like a smoldering ember.

Driven by the thought, he made his way down the toward the shop. Without hesitation, he walked up to the door and pushed open.

Inside, the scent of oiled steel and fresh wood filled the air. The shop was simple but well-organized. Weapons hung neatly on the walls rows of swords, axes, and spears, each polished and ready for use. The wooden floor creaked slightly under his feet as he stepped further in.

Behind the counter sat an old man. He wasn't particularly imposing his clothes were plain, and his face lined with age but his sharp eyes locked onto Jack the moment he entered.