novelbin Chapter 653: The Hidden Agenda of the Core
Chapter 653: The Hidden Agenda of the Core
High above the clouds, atop the supreme summit of the Heavenly Sword Pavilion’s central peak, the grand administrative palace stood in solemn, ancient majesty. For an entire day and night, an atmosphere of suffocating tension had enveloped the entrance to the Branch Leader’s private audience hall.
The Chief Master of the Alchemical Pavilion—a towering authority within the mountain’s hierarchy—had been relentlessly demanding a personal audience with the commander of the frontier.
However, the Branch Leader had been deliberately and meticulously evading him. For twenty-four full hours, the supreme office had issued a string of smooth, bureaucratic excuses, repeatedly claiming that the commander was thoroughly overwhelmed by high-priority defensive border logistics and urgent spiritual arrays that required his absolute, undivided attention. It was a classic administrative stall. Yet, the Branch Leader had heavily underestimated the ancient alchemist’s stubborn, unyielding fury. The old Chief Master had remained perfectly stationed outside the grand palace doors for the entire duration, refusing to take a single step back, sitting in silent meditation without showing even a fraction of an intention to leave until he received his audience.
Realizing that the old refiner could no longer be brushed aside without causing a massive, public fracture within the sect’s executive cabinet, the grand heavy doors finally ground open.
"The Grand Branch Leader will receive you now, Chief Master," a senior attendant announced with a deep bow.
The Chief Master stood up, his bright orange robes snapping with a sharp, aggressive rustle as he marched into the cavernous, stone-carved hall. Sitting behind a massive desk of dark ironwood was the Branch Leader, his silver beard flowing over his chest, his cold, piercing eyes showing a hint of deep, hidden exhaustion.
"Chief Master," the Branch Leader spoke, his voice carrying the deep, heavy resonance of a mountain baseline. "To think you would spend an entire day guarding my palace gates. I trust there is an apocalyptic emergency threatening our outer border to justify such a dramatic display?"
"Do not play administrative games with me, Branch Leader!" the Chief Master hissed, his ancient voice trembling with a potent mix of professional outrage and wounded pride. "A rogue, completely unlicenced practitioner has violently seized a premier commercial plot near our central junction! He has erected a massive monument titled the Immortal Doctor’s Pavilion, and his subordinates are actively distributing queue numbers to thousands of outer disciples, openly running a massive medical scam that directly challenges the centuries-old authority of my guild! They are actively destroying our operational prestige and systematically ruining our market dominance! I demand that you immediately revoke their permits and authorize my enforcers to thoroughly raze that heresy to the ground!"
The Branch Leader remained perfectly still, leaning back against his ironwood throne as he casually crossed his massive forearms. A cold, thoroughly clinical smile slowly formed behind his silver beard. He knew exactly what the old alchemist was truly terrified of—it wasn’t a "scam," it was the sudden, terrifying reality of losing his absolute, highly lucrative financial monopoly over the broke outer disciples.
"A fascinating narrative, Chief Master," the Branch Leader said smoothly, his tone dripping with a calm, deeply calculating indifference. "However, according to the official administrative registry I signed yesterday, that plot was legally and permanently leased for vital frontier medical development. I am listening to your frantic explanation, yet I fail to see the structural logic. Could you please explain to me, in precise legal detail, exactly how a new, independent business practicing standard internal energy restoration is somehow directly defiling your personal honor and your sacred alchemical duties?"
The Chief Master’s jaw subtly tightened, his eyes flaring with a dangerous, volatile light as he realized the Branch Leader was not planning to back his play.
"Branch Leader!" the Chief Master slammed his hand down on the edge of the ironwood desk, his face contorted into an expression of raw, unadulterated fury. "Are you honestly suggesting that some nameless, rogue street doctor is more vital to the survival of this frontier than the entire administrative weight of my Alchemical Pavilion?!"
The Branch Leader didn’t even flinch. He simply picked up a jade scroll from his desk, keeping his piercing eyes locked onto the ancient refiner.
"I fail to see how you could possibly arrive at such a radical conclusion, Chief Master," the Branch Leader said, his voice dropping into a smooth, thoroughly mocking register. "The systematic growth of highly capable medical institutions within our borders is a direct testament to the absolute glory of the Heavenly Sword Pavilion. In fact, I am so deeply impressed by the rapid development of the Immortal Doctor’s Pavilion that I am fully planning to personally present their structural achievements during the supreme imperial promotion council next year."
The words hung in the quiet air of the audience hall like a heavy, cold guillotine.
The threat had been laid out with absolute, undeniable clarity. It was one thing for the Alchemical Pavilion to flex its political muscles and cause a minor logistical headache for the local Branch Leader. But if the Branch Leader chose to officially escalate this matter to the Central Sect’s supreme council, framing the alchemists as a greedy faction that was actively sabotaging a vital, empire-backed medical asset... the main sect enforcers would decapitate the Chief Master before he could even open his mouth to utter the phrase, ’I am an alchemist.’
The Chief Master’s breathing grew incredibly shallow, his knuckles turning absolute white inside his orange sleeves as he realized he had been thoroughly cornered on the legal board.
"So... this is exactly how you intend to manage this situation, Branch Leader," the Chief Master hissed, his ancient voice dripping with a poisonous, suppressed venom. "You had best remain exceptionally careful with your administrative actions. When a cornered beast is provoked, things within this frontier branch could very easily spiral completely out of your control."
The moment that veiled threat left the old man’s mouth, the temperature inside the grand palace instantly violently plummeted to absolute zero.
BOOM.
There was no massive explosion of light, but a microscopic, suffocating fragment of a true Spiritual Sea Realm aura silently floated to the surface. The pure, abyssal weight of a supreme cultivator smashed directly into the old man’s soul, freezing the very blood flowing through his veins.
The Chief Master instantly felt a deep, ancestral cold wash over his entire body, his knees trembling slightly beneath his heavy robes.
"Chief Master of the Alchemical Pavilion," the Branch Leader whispered, his deep baritone carrying the unshakeable weight of a literal mountain as he leaned slightly forward. "Allow me to gently remind you that I do not possess the baseline patience required to play these pathetic, subterranean political games with you. If you have a problem with my decrees... I suggest you speak your mind with absolute, unfiltered openness."