Serene Soul Crystals

It was a probe. Though the bloodline level displayed by Jiyan put him on tiptoes, there were too many inconsistencies for the Reverend to believe his conjectures and outright surrender. "Rationally speaking, there's a 99% chance that he's a close-kin, son or grandson of that person, and only 1% chance of atavism. But considering the strength he displayed and his projects in the First Range, we can up the atavism chance to 40%," Weeping Soul reasoned, and depending on how "Lord Revelation" handled his words the Reverend could draw the final conclusion.

Neither Harun, nor the Dark Stone city, was ready for Weeping Soul's arrival. But while watching the Range's most powerful man bend his back and ask for mercy could feel many with hubris, Harun knitted his brows, took a second to form all kinds of conjectures, then appeared before the seer—shaped like a golden cloud.

"I have no need for a truce. You and I don't belong to the same world to begin with," Harun played along. Just like Weeping Soul, he'd asked himself much about Jiyan's bloodline strength and Devil Essence, but instead believed that the problem lay with Agiri. If there was one reason why the Reverend's true body would instantly leave the Soul Refining Hall's headquarters to check the truth, it was fear, fear that all along he'd been engaging entities that could smack all seers across the six ranges into the sea with a single slap.

They had to relieve him of that fear.

In Weeping Soul's ears, Harun's words sounded like a direct admission of his true identity. But at the same time, if Harun was that willing to suppress him with his background, why not do so in the first place? Unless absolutely necessary, Weeping Soul didn't want to let go of the Abyssal River and Obsidian Soul Stone mine. The Abyssal River, especially, would enable him an all his sect elders to achieve Void Return within a few months, and become Perfected Beings after a millenium of diligent practice. In their eyes, 10,000 seductive goddesses couldn't compare to that river.

"As a member of that clan, Your Lordship naturally doesn't have to fear the likes of me. On the contrary, I have all the reasons to fear you. Everything up until now was just a misunderstanding, if there's any way I can make up for it, don't hesitate," Weeping Soul made a final probe, and though he knew exactly what not to say, Harun replied in a fearless young master's arrogant tone:

"As long as you don't get in my way, I am disinclined to bother with you. However, you've offended me multiple times, and must pay a hefty price. Ten-thousand Serene Soul Crystals sound about right."

On the outside, Weeping Soul frowned at Harun's extortion. But deep down, peace returned to the Reverend's heart.

He'd never felt so relieved. "I was overthinking. This is no Empyrean Devil Spirit—just another buffoon trying to fake a mighty background—he probably lucked on the atavism. Without a brain like Mehran's and some luck, he's no threat," He reassured himself, yet still didn't drop the pretense.

"Your Lordship makes perfect sense. This is a chance for us to build a working relationship. In the future, I will rely on you," Weeping Soul acted as if he'd been tricked by Harun's Super Hidden Ancient Family Young Master act. Not realizing that from beginning to end, he saw and grasped all the things Harun wanted him to. Later that day, 10,000 Serene Soul Crystals would drop at the palace's gates—a matter for a very near time.

Meanwhile, Harun returned to the royal palace, stopping between Mehran and Jiyan, both of whom observed at him with wildly different looks. Approval in the lady's gaze, murder urges in the male's.

"What is wrong with you? Mehran stressed the first and last word, waving his hands like a party girl on crack, "This was a once in a lifetime opportunity to convince the number one threat across 10 million square kilometers that he should back off. You just had to play the aloof and disdainful young master. How could you get that wrong? Why the fuck did you ask him for loot?" The high king snapped. Though he didn't have Harun's information, Mehran too realized that Weeping Soul came out of shock and fright, and was scared witless by a higher background than they could imagine.

This was a golden opportunity, and at first it seemed like Harun had gotten the act right. But how could the offspring of a Super Hidden Ancient Family tier faction care for a simple Truth Reverend's resources? At best, Harun's last request traded 10,000 Soul Crystals for the Reverend's peace of mind. At worst...yuck—they gave the Reverend back his license to be a baby stealing dick for zero benifit. But as Mehran's confusion and anger peaked, Jiyan brought him back to reality.

"And here I thought you had a brain. Though he still hides lots of strength, Weeping Soul is someone we can handle with enough preparation. In fact I'm not even certain that he can resist 'that move.' But once he's convinced that he faced and offended a background beyond the Emperor level, what is he going to do?"

"Seek peace and contact the Truth Scrying Grotto's higher ups...oh," Mehran instantly realized the problem. Weeping Soul's words would make the leadership investigate the truth. Perhaps they wouldn't even hesitate to contact the family or faction they believed Jiyan belonged to—if only for more compensation and apologies. And from then on, shit would hit the fan—everything would go wrong. Imagining entities beyond Emperor level descend en mass to demand answers from the three of them, Mehran could see his lifespan getting reduced before his eyes.

No doubt unwise. Ashamed for having lost faith in his short-term boss' mental stability, Mehran lowered his head, reflecting on his shortsightedness. At the side, Harun pulled Jiyan toward his chest, with a smiling face and approving look.

A man's greatest blessing and worst nightmare: a clever wife. Each time he looked at her, a sense of pride and accomplishment swelled in his chest, rushed up to his brain...and inflated it with ecstasy level-satisfaction. But with such a clever wife, how could he fool around?

Harun always believed that a man had to be philanthropic. Go out in the world, and give love to all the beautiful ladies that needed it. But now that he had Jiyan, was it time to give up his ways? Was there place for someone else? Was there a need...for someone else? Throwing those questions into the recycle bin of his mind, Harun turned to face the rest of the court. Association leaders, nobles and officials sprawled on the ground, acting dead or unconscious.

Unlike the Soul Refining Hall, who the God-level duo wouldn't allow to see the throneroom's inside, those people saw everything, from Harun's face to his true eyes, to Jiyan's maddening strength, and the truth behind their moves.

If they didn't play dead at this juncture, perhaps in a year from this day, their neighbors would mourn their deaths. And in another time and place, they would be right. Fortunately, Harun had just gotten his hands on many soul skills he had to experiment with—they could live for another day.

Stretching his palm toward the folks, Harun attempted a technique he got from one of the seers—the Memory Stealing Law—self-explanatory skill that enabled him to free his targets of memories they didn't need.

Snaking soul light shot from their heads, dove into Harun's palm, and vanished there. Harun then shifted his attention back to Mehran, who met his terrible eyes, wondering how he'd handle him.