Chapter 12. Darkstar Family...[3]

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Inside The Mirror...

"Right...! One would rather be a beggar than a slave!" Cris declared, his tiny voice echoing through the air like a clarion call to freedom, his bright, inquisitive eyes sparkling with a fierce determination that belied his tender years.

The white-robed old man, his snowy locks cascading down his back like a river of wisdom, nodded his head in approval, a warm, benevolent smile spreading across his face like the dawn breaking over a tranquil landscape.

His eyes, aglow with a deep admiration, shone like two bright stars in the firmament, illuminating the very essence of Cris's being.

He hadn't emerged from the crowd just now, merely to observe how Cris would react next, but he hadn't expected the young boy to be beaten so mercilessly that he didn't even utter a cry of pain.

The old man's eyes had witnessed the brutal scene unfold, and yet, he remained unmoved, his countenance a mask of serenity, like a still pond reflecting the beauty of nature.

If he hadn't beheld it with his own eyes, he wouldn't have believed that such a character would emerge in a little child who was less than seven years old, a tiny, vulnerable being who should have been coddled and protected, not subjected to the cruel whims of fate.

Meanwhile, Alex, who stood not far away, his face a twisted mask of rage and indignation, could no longer bear the sight of the old man's indifference.

He suppressed his anger, his voice cold and menacing, like a winter's breeze that cuts to the bone, as he shouted, "This old Bastard, how dare you ignore me?"

What was the situation today? First, it was Cris, and now a white-robed old Bastard dared to ignore him. If it wasn't for the fear of the old man in white robes, he would have killed Cris, his anger and frustration boiling over like a cauldron of molten lava.

"Old Bastard...?" The white-robed old man snorted softly, a gentle, almost imperceptible sound, like the rustling of leaves in an autumn breeze, and a blue streamer popped out at Alex with his fingers, swift and deadly as a striking cobra.

Aahhh...!!!!!

The cry of pain that erupted from Alex's lips was like a crack of thunder on a stormy night, as the blue streamer pierced his calf instantly, the agony written across his face like a scarlet letter.

"Cultivator, Cultivator..." The two residence guards and butler were stunned in place, their eyes wide with shock and awe, like a pair of startled deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle.

Only the cultivators could wield such power, their abilities a mystical force that could bend the very fabric of reality to their will.

In the (Manvi) Mortal Realm, cultivators were rare, each one an existence that could easily change the situation of an entire region, their influence like a mighty river that reshapes the landscape.

Even if all the mortal Kings were present, they would have to show respect to Cultivators, their power and authority unchallenged and unquestioned.

"Lord Sir, spare My life..!"

"Lord Sir, spare My life..!"

The two guards hurriedly knelt down, their voices trembling with fear, like leaves quivering in a hurricane, as did the Butler of Alex's residence, his face pale and drawn, like a ghostly apparition.

The people watching from a distance were very excited, their faces aglow with wonder and curiosity, like a crowd of spectators at a grand spectacle, and they all knelt down, calling the old man "Lord", their voices a chorus of reverence and admiration.

"Cultivator..." Cris and Valeria looked on in a trance, their eyes fixed on Alex, who was crying while covering his calf, and then on the people who were kneeling and saluting in the distance, their faces a picture of awe and reverence.

At this moment, they had a strong yearning for Cultivation, their hearts burning with a fierce desire to wield such power, to be able to protect themselves and those they loved from the cruel whims of fate.

Cris resisted the pain and stood up, his small body trembling with effort, like a sapling tree struggling to reach the sunlight, and with Valeria, walked to the old man in white robes, knelt down, and said in a trembling voice, "Lord, Thank you for saving us, and We beg you to accept us as disciples...!" They both said, their voices a duet of hope and longing.

The white-robed old man smiled without saying a word, his face a mask of benevolence, like a warm summer sun shining down on a verdant meadow.

He walked around them, his movements slow and deliberate, like a wise teacher guiding his students, and said in their ears, "Boy, you are very talented and have a Supreme physique, I don't know what one, but it is very powerful. But I am not qualified to be your master...as for this girl, she has an unusual physique, and it is Suitable For Demonic Cultivation, so I can't be your master also...?"

Valeria's face was dull, her eyes clouded with confusion, like a stormy sky obscuring the sun, as she pointed at herself and said, "Me? I am a Demonic Cultivator...?"

Cris, who was still kneeling on the ground, was buzzing in his head, his heart full of incomprehension, like a puzzle with missing pieces, as he tried to grasp the old man's words.

"Lord, do you mean that we can't be your disciples...?" Cris asked, his voice trembling with disappointment, like a leaf quivering in the wind.

"Both Of You, Can't..." The white-robed old man stroked his white beard, his eyes clouded with a deep sadness, like a winter's night shrouding the landscape.

He didn't lie. He felt that he didn't have the qualifications to teach them, especially Cris, who had an Aura like a born Conqueror.

"Then You are not Worthy being Our Master too..!" At this moment, Valeria's angry voice woke Cris suddenly, like a thunderclap on a stormy night.

He got up and looked at Valeria, and said in a hurry, "Sister, be respectful, he has saved us...?"

"I don't care, he has made my little brother sad...!" Valeria pouted angrily, looking at the white-robed old man with unkind eyes, like a stormy sea crashing against the shore.

Seeing Cris's sad appearance, she instantly dispelled her gratitude to the old man in white robes for saving her, her heart now a cauldron of anger and resentment.

"Cris, don't kneel on him! This stinky old man refuses to accept us as his disciples, he must not be a good person...!" Valeria exclaimed, her voice a torrent of indignation, like a raging river overflowing its banks.

Now Valeria didn't have the slightest affection for the white-robed old man, her little baby brother and she had all knelt down to worship the teacher, this old man didn't accept them as his disciples.

The people in the distance were stunned, their faces a picture of shock and disbelief, like a group of statues frozen in time. It was rare in the world that a Cultivator would interfere in mortal affairs. How could this little girl insult him...? Also, call the Cultivator a stinky old man?

The white-robed old man did not speak, but shook his head with a wry smile, like a wise teacher tolerating the impertinence of a wayward student.

Cris could only pretend to be serious, and said in a deep and angry voice, "Sister...! Don't be rude to Cultivator Lord, Say Sorry to him..."

Being reprimanded by Cris for the first time, Valeria burst into tears, like a summer storm unleashing its fury. Seeing her cry, Eve once again started to cry, her heart a wellspring of sorrow and compassion."I Don't Care, How this Old Man Can Make My Little Brother Sad...!" Valeria exclaimed, her voice a cry of defiance, like a warrior charging into battle.

As long as her Little Brother and Sister were unhappy, she would even try to kill Gods, let alone insult some Cultivator.

Cris couldn't bear it, and he wanted to say something, but was interrupted by the white-robed old man raising his hand, like a conductor leading an orchestra.

"Forget it, she cares about you, that's why she said that...here take this Basic Cultivation Breathing Scripture with this You can Start Your Journey Of Cultivation..." The white-robed old man didn't seem to be angry, and after speaking, he stepped on the void and left, like a ghostly apparition vanishing into thin air.

"Have good journey...!" The people were shocked when they saw this, and they knelt again and again in the direction where the white-robed old man left, their faces a picture of reverence and admiration.

Just when Cris and Valeria, the voice of the white-robed old man suddenly sounded in Cris's ears again, like a whispered secret in the darkness.

"Little Child, For Your Sake, leave the girl because she has physique related Demon Race and Immoral Cultivators will not tolerate this because Discrimination against Demonic Cultivators is going on."

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Next Chapter "13. Start Of Cultivation..."

From this Chapter Eve's Regret Arc will Start. But this Chapter will Come after I will add Arc Containing Main Character's Life Story in Orginal World in Volume 0.

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Try If You like My Other Novel

"Villain : Conquest".

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