Even someone with three spiritual roots could usually qualify as an Outer Disciple of the Thunder Sect. In her last life, when Mistvale’s recruiters came for the Ascension Conference, Lauren hadn’t been chosen.

  Her parents hadn’t been too upset. They were laid-back, and she was their only daughter. Besides, disciples with three spiritual roots were often bullied, used as cannon fodder in the sect’s rivalries. In their eyes, being rejected was a blessing in disguise. They expected her to marry a live-in son-in-law someday, to keep the family comfortable in their old age.

  But this time, things were different. Thanks to her grandfather pulling strings, she’d gotten in through the back door.

  After asking around, she tracked down Jack, the owner of the Hogwarts Alchemy Shop.

  Jack barely looked at her as he took the letter, read it over, and tossed her a jade token.

  “Take this and report to the Ascension Arena on the east side of the city.”

  And that was that. He turned back to his work, leaving her no chance to ask more. She clutched the token and left quietly.

  The line outside the Ascension Arena stretched endlessly—children and teenagers between six and fifteen. Anyone older wasn’t even considered.

  It took ages before it was finally her turn.

  Lauren handed over Jack’s jade token. She’d already checked it earlier and saw that all her details were embedded inside. Clearly, her grandfather had handled everything in advance.

  The registrar glanced at it. “Lauren, three spiritual roots: earth, wood, and water. Recommended by the Hogwarts Alchemy Shop?”

  “Yes, thank you, Senior Brother.”

  He injected a thin stream of spiritual energy into the jade token and passed it back to her.

  “Take this. You’ll need it to enter the barrier at the Ascension Conference in ten days.”

  “Yes, thank you, Senior Brother.”

  Clutching the token happily, Lauren set out to find an inn.

  But by the time she started looking, it was already too late. Every inn was full. She went from one to the next as the sky grew darker, her frustration mounting. “Shopkeeper, even a storage room would do. Please, help me out.”

  The innkeeper grimaced apologetically. “Three days ago, maybe. Now? Not even a firewood shed left, little miss. Best try your luck at the next place.”

  Damn it. She had a bad feeling every inn would give her the same answer.

  “Hey, young lady.”

  Lauren turned to see a young man leaning from the balcony above, waving. “If you don’t mind, you can share a room with me.”

  The onlookers chuckled knowingly.

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  Lauren’s expression darkened. The man might look respectable, but she could see through him at a glance. A man like that would never amount to anything in cultivation. She ignored him and headed for the door.

  But before she stepped out, another voice called to her. This time, it was a girl—about Lauren’s age, plainly dressed, her tone hesitant but kind.

  “Young lady, if you don’t mind, you can share with me.”

  Lauren turned, studying her.

  “I overheard you asking about a utility room,” the girl admitted. “That’s where I’m staying.”

  “Oh? What a coincidence.”

  “If you’re willing,” the girl said shyly, “we can split it. But… you’ll have to cover half the spirit stones.”

  Lauren blinked, then nodded. “Okay.”

  And so, she followed the stranger into a cramped storage room. She hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone, but the choice was clear: better to share a space with a stranger than risk the streets at night in Hogwarts.

  The utility room was nothing more than a closet under the stairs. The shopkeeper had once used it for storing junk, but now—hungry for extra spirit stones—he rented it out as lodging.

  The cramped space barely fit a wooden bed and a small table at its foot. By Lauren’s rough guess, it couldn’t have been more than fifty square feet—just enough for one person to breathe in.

  Yet even this broom closet cost a hundred low-grade spirit stones a day.

  The girl’s name was Tamara. She had arrived ten days earlier and managed to grab the place before anyone else.

  When Lauren calculated the expense, she realized that compared to the cost of the teleportation array, even this wasn’t outrageous.

  Tamara gave her a sheepish smile. “I’m helping you out, but really, it’s the other way around. I’m flat out of spirit stones. Without you splitting the cost, I’d be sleeping on the street until the conference.”

  She was honest about her predicament, which made Lauren relax a little.

  Lauren pulled out a small storage pouch, the kind meant for everyday pocket change. “I don’t have much either. We’ll just have to make do.”

  She counted out half the stones needed for the next ten days and handed them over.

  Tamara accepted without fuss. “Good. I’ll give everything to the shopkeeper tomorrow, so he won’t sneer at me anymore.”

  Then, almost casually, she asked, “By the way, Lauren, where are you from?”

  “Mistvale. And you?”

  “Mistvale…” Tamara frowned, clearly never having heard of it. But seeing Lauren’s simple clothes—much like her own—she guessed it was some backwater town on the border.

  “I’m from Thornspire,” she said.

  Lauren raised a brow. “Thornspire’s a big cultivation city. Most people there join the Divine Sword Sect. They say sword cultivators are everywhere. Why’d you come to the Thunder Sect’s Ascension Conference instead?”

  Tamara sighed and shook her head. “My brothers and sisters all sensed sword energy by the time they were children. I’ve tried for over a decade and never felt a thing. My mother finally told me I wasn’t cut out for the sword and should try my luck elsewhere.”

  Her voice grew quiet. She told Lauren she was the concubine-born daughter of a small clan in Thornspire, low in status, barely noticed at home. Without sword energy, she wasn’t worth cultivating. By the time she turned fifteen, her family planned to trade her off in marriage.

  It was her mother who refused to give up. She scraped together years of savings to send Tamara here, to at least give her a chance at the Thunder Sect’s conference.

  Lauren didn’t say much about herself. She simply told Tamara she came from a remote town and that her grandfather had sent her. There was nothing unusual about her story—just another hopeful trying to grasp at immortality, like countless others.

  Later, when Tamara went to eat, Lauren quietly declined. She wasn’t hungry. After drinking floral water, she’d long since shed the need for grain or meat.

  The Flower Wife had once told her: if you want to climb higher, your body must remain pure. The less tied to the mortal world, the better.

  Three years of floral water had left her body clean, and she had no desire to return to coarse food.

  Tamara blinked at her refusal. “You still have fasting pills, then?”

  Lauren smiled faintly. “I may come from a small town, but my family is one of the strongest there. My grandfather gave me some pills. Not many, but enough.”

  Tamara didn’t pry. Whatever the truth, it was obvious Lauren’s family treated her far better than her own did.

  “Then I’ll eat alone,” Tamara said.

  “You eat,” Lauren replied.

  …

  Ten days later, the Ascension Conference began.