The Nihility Chef

The man regarded Samael with a serene gaze, his voice a soft murmur that carried the weight of ancient mountains. "Fellow cultivator, I am Acala of the Eternal Pangu Sect, Vajra Peak. May I humbly request your indulgence in allowing me to acquire this artifact? We shall converse further after the auction." His hands came together in a prayer sign, the gesture imbued with a quiet reverence. "Amitabha."

Samael's eyes narrowed as he studied the monk, his aura deceptively humble yet rippling with an undercurrent of power. The man's humility felt like a veil, and Samael wondered what lay beneath. "Fine," he replied curtly. "After the auction, meet me at the Fortuna Inn."

Acala nodded, his expression unreadable, and with a calm that belied the tension in the room, he secured the Mala beads and Tetsubō, outbidding all others with a staggering increase of 50,000 spirit stones. The auction hall buzzed with whispers, but Acala remained unmoved, as if the weight of the world could not sway him.

The Fortuna Inn stood as a testament to the resilience of the high-level fantasy world, its newly repaired private room a sanctuary of polished wood and faintly glowing talismans. Samael, Alice, and Acala sat around a low table, the air thick with unspoken questions. The artifacts lay between them, their cracked surfaces pulsing faintly with a dormant energy.

"Why did you want the artifact so badly?" Samael asked, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

Acala hesitated, his fingers tracing the edge of the table as if seeking guidance from the grain of the wood. Then, with a deep breath, he began. "As I said, my name is Acala. I have no surname, for I am an orphan. The Master of Vajra Peak found me as a newborn, abandoned at the foot of the mountain. He took me in, raised me as his own."

Samael's expression remained impassive, though internally he groaned. "I didn't ask for your life story," he thought, but Acala continued, undeterred.

"When I began cultivating, I showed exceptional talent, particularly in Buddhist techniques. They called me the reincarnation of a Buddha. But then..." His voice faltered, and for a moment, the room seemed to darken, as if the shadows themselves leaned in to listen.

Alice interrupted, her tone sharp but not unkind. "Why do you trust us so much?"

Acala's gaze softened, his eyes like twin pools of still water. "You seem like good people. I feel... I feel I can trust you."

Samael raised an eyebrow, his skepticism evident. "What kind of nonsense is that?" he mused silently.

Acala pressed on, his voice gaining strength. "On my fifth birthday, I failed to awaken a physique. Those I had once defeated easily returned to humiliate me. I was ridiculed, bullied, ostracized. Yet, my master and his daughter never lost faith in me. Their belief fueled my determination, and my anger became the fire that drove my cultivation."

"The other peak masters mocked my adoptive father, calling me trash. Seeing him humiliated... it broke something in me. And in that moment of despair, I awakened both my physique and bloodline."

Samael leaned forward, his tone cautious. "Are you sure you want to share this? Keeping your bloodline and physique a secret might be wiser."

Acala shook his head, his resolve unshaken. "I don't know why, but I feel compelled to trust you. The physique I awakened is the Fudo Myoo Divine Body, granting me a 300% affinity for Fire and Holy elements. My bloodline is the Fudo Myoo Divine Bloodline, which gives me a 300% affinity for Fire and Devil elements."

He paused, his eyes gleaming with a fierce light. "My physique allows me to summon a vision of Fudo Myoo. Once I am strong enough, this vision can obliterate enemies with a mere glance. My bloodline grants me some of the vision's abilities—the Eyes of Wrath and Immovable Will. So long as my heart remains steady, no one can move me, deceive me, or break my resolve."

Fudo Myoo, the Buddhist deity of wrath, was a figure of both destruction and enlightenment. In religious depictions, he wielded a sword and a noose, but in this world, his weapons were the Tetsubō and Mala beads—artifacts of immense power.

Samael couldn't help but think, "Holy hell, this guy is a walking protagonist template. An orphan, a fallen genius, humiliated, only to awaken a broken physique and bloodline? If his life were a novel, it'd be called The Angry Buddha or something."

"So why did you want the artifact?" Alice asked again, her patience wearing thin.

Acala blinked, as if realizing he had strayed from the point. "My instincts told me I needed it."

"That's it?" Alice deadpanned, her tone dripping with disbelief.

"Yes..." Acala admitted, his voice tinged with sheepishness.

Samael sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. At least let me take a closer look at them."

Acala handed over the cracked Tetsubō and the Mala beads. Samael expected the rumored burn, but to his surprise, he felt nothing. "Why can I hold these? I thought anyone below the Dao Realm would be burned."

Acala's eyes lit up with a knowing glint. "I knew you'd pass the test! These artifacts only burn those who feel guilt for their sins. The weapons use that guilt as fuel to destroy the wielder. But since they're broken, I need to find the missing pieces."

"So you used this as a test?" Samael asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," Acala replied, his tone earnest. "But I had a strong feeling you'd pass."

Alice also touched the artifacts, her fingers brushing against the cracked surface. She felt nothing—no burn, no guilt. Despite the nobles she had killed or harmed, her conscience was clear.

Half an hour later, the trio left the inn, their steps carrying them toward the academy. The Tianjiao Academy existed in a pocket world, a realm unto itself, where trials determined class placement. The academy was divided into three tiers—Mortal, Earth, and Heaven—each more prestigious than the last.

As they approached the dimensional gate, a blur shot past them, and a sharp slap echoed through the street. A red handprint bloomed on Acala's bald head, and a petite girl stood before him, her presence as vibrant as a summer storm.

Acala turned, his red eyes burning with rage. "FENG YUTU!"

The girl was stunning—around 1.55 meters tall, with a slim build and long, sleek black hair that cascaded like a waterfall. Her jade-colored eyes sparkled with mischief, and her Daoist robes fluttered as if alive. She carried herself with an energy that made the world seem to revolve around her.

Another voice called out as a girl ran toward them, panting. "Young Madam, Master said you should restrain yourself."

"Whatever, Xiao Ying, you're being boring!" Feng Yutu retorted, her voice a melodic chime.

Xiao Ying was beautiful in her own right, though not as striking as Yutu. She stood around 1.65 meters tall, her cherry blossom-colored hair tied up with a silver hairpin. Her calm and cautious demeanor marked her as Yutu's maid, her focus solely on her charge.

Acala's glare intensified. "Samael, Alice, this is Feng Yutu—the daughter of Vajra Peak's Master."

Info of the Day - Eternal Pangu Sect

The Eternal Pangu Sect is one of the four great territories of the human race. It is structured like a traditional Chinese cultivation sect but also governs cities inspired by ancient China.

The sect is divided into various peaks, each with its own specialty:

Celestial Sword Peak – The main peak, housing the sect leader and the most powerful sword cultivators.

Vajra Peak – Specializes in Buddhist techniques.

Mu Huo Dan Peak – Focuses on alchemy and pill-making.

Huo Yi Peak – Dedicated to archery and throwing weapons.

Huang Quan Peak – Masters corpse refining, puppet arts, and dark, devil, death, curse, and poison elements.

Beast King Peak – Specializes in taming and commanding beasts.

Enforcer Peak – Functions as the sect's law enforcement.

Samael and Alice exchanged glances, sensing that their journey was about to take an interesting turn...