Chapter223 – Wallace

Gerald scoffed. “Pity? She had talent, sure. But she barely cultivated. Always clinging to Mr. Drake, pestering him.”

“Hey,” Cornelius protested, “if a disciple has questions about cultivation, who else should she ask if not her master?”

Gerald rolled her eyes and didn’t argue further. Instead, he turned to Lauren. “Lauren, take the Thunder Spirit Root. The oldest one. Thirteen. Same age you were when you entered. At least he won’t need you wiping his nose and feeding him porridge.”

Lauren thought of the cultivation resources her master had left behind—complete lightning-based techniques, rare materials, everything. Among all the peaks, none was more suitable than Starfell Summit.

She nodded. “Alright. I’ll follow your arrangement.”

“And this one,” Gerald added, tapping the booklet. “Water Spirit Root. You take him too.”

Lauren glanced at the entry. Five years old. Her expression tightened. She really did not want to take a five-year-old.

“Let Dorothy take the Water Spirit Root,” Lauren said calmly. “Master said Starfell Summit only accepts mutated spirit roots.”

Dorothy smiled wryly. “Fine. I already have several anyway.”

It was obvious Lauren didn’t want to take too many at once. And honestly, it made sense. This was her first time accepting disciples. Taking on multiple children, especially toddlers, was a headache she didn’t need.

Gerald waved her hand decisively. “I’ll take the one with the Golden Spirit Root.”

No one objected. Ever since Mr. Drake ascended, the Sect Leader’s authority had become absolute. When he spoke now, it wasn’t a discussion—it was a decision.

“The rest,” Gerald continued, “if no one volunteers, I’ll assign them.” He didn’t even pause. “Logan, you take the Earth Spirit Root.”

“Dorothy, the Fire Spirit Root is yours. Let him learn alchemy. Your line hasn’t produced anything impressive in years. Try harder.”

“Lauren, do you want this Wind Spirit Root girl? If not, I’ll take her.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. “Good. Settled.”

Everyone: “…” You ask for opinions after deciding everything in one breath?

At least Lauren’s situation was resolved. Thirteen years old. Thirteen was good. Old enough to feed himself. Old enough to handle his own daily needs. Old enough to cultivate independently.

She wouldn’t have to worry about whether he’d eaten, whether he’d bathed, or whether he’d figured out how to use the damn toilet.

As for cultivation? Her master had left behind a complete lightning inheritance. If the boy had the talent, he could figure it out himself.

Soon, a disciple led the six children into the main hall. They varied in age and height. The moment they entered, all six dropped to their knees and kowtowed.

Some were visibly nervous, heads bowed so low their foreheads thudded loudly against the floor. Others couldn’t help sneaking glances around, eyes wide with curiosity.

The two youngest—barely steady on their feet—misjudged the movement entirely and flopped flat onto their faces while kowtowing. When they were told to rise, they scrambled awkwardly, wobbling like ducklings.

Lauren watched them and couldn’t help thinking of her own first day in the sect.

After brief introductions, the sect leader began assigning masters with brisk efficiency.

The thirteen-year-old Thunder Spirit Root disciple was named Wallace, from the Westmoor family of Central State. Westmoor.

Lauren’s first thought was: he must be related to Westin.

Wallace stood taller than the others, already carrying himself like a young man. Handsome, composed, and far steadier than the younger children beside him.

When his name was called, he stepped forward and knelt again. “Wallace greets Master.”

Lauren froze. This was her first time taking a disciple. What the hell was she supposed to say? She couldn’t just nod and grunt like the sect leader.

This moment needed something… memorable. Something that sounded like actual wisdom. Damn it. She should’ve rehearsed.

“Lauren?” Gerald prompted pointedly when she stayed silent too long.

Wallace’s heart tightened. He hadn’t expected his master to look so young. Now she wasn’t speaking. Was she dissatisfied with him?

Lauren cleared her throat. “Uh… this is my first time being a master. And it’s your first time being a disciple. Neither of us has experience.” She paused, realizing she was rambling. “So… let’s be tolerant of each other’s shortcomings. We’ll improve together. That’s it. You can get up.”

Gerald stared at her. “You held it in that long just to say that?”

Lauren shot her a look. At least I said something longer than “mm.”

Cornelius chuckled and came to her defense. “Master, it’s her first disciple. I think she did quite well. When we took disciples, didn’t we just say ‘good’ or ‘mm’? Junior Sister Dorothy says ‘good child’ at most. Who among us gave a speech longer than Lauren?”

Gerald waved a hand. “Fine, fine. Take your disciples and disperse.”

.....

As Lauren walked out with Wallace, she noticed something uncomfortable.

He seemed… taller than her. Was it early puberty? Well, good. Big was good. An adult-sized disciple meant less babysitting. Maybe he could even help run errands.

“Wallace, follow me.” She straightened her expression, trying to look stern and authoritative.

“Yes, Master.” He followed quietly, posture respectful and obedient.

.......

Tarot had been waiting outside with Briar and Wayne, eager to see who Lauren had chosen. They saw her approaching—

Followed by a tall, broad-shouldered boy who looked slightly taller than she did.

“Senior Brother, I’m back,” Lauren called.

Tarot looked behind her. No one else. “…That’s your disciple?”

“Yes. Wallace, greet your Uncle-Master Tarot.”

Wallace immediately stepped forward and bowed deeply. “Greets Uncle-Master Tarot.”

Tarot: “…” This kid? He’s grown that big already?

“Wallace… from the Westmoor family?” Tarot asked.

“Yes, Uncle-Master. I am from the Westmoor family.”

“Do you know Westin?” Lauren asked curiously.

“Yes. He is my sixth uncle.”

So she’d guessed right. Lauren gestured to Wayne. “This is Wayne, your Uncle-Master’s disciple.”

Wayne smiled and nodded.

Lauren continued, “He entered the sect before you and is three years older. You’re close in age. If there’s anything you’re embarrassed to ask elders, ask Wayne.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Wayne, show him around. Introduce him to the peaks of Starfell Summit. Arrange a courtyard near yours. You’re about the same age—living close will make things easier.”

“Yes, Miss Lauren,” Wayne replied obediently.

As Wallace turned to follow Wayne, he glanced curiously at Briar. “And who is this junior sister?”

Everyone: “…”

Lauren coughed lightly. “Its name is Briar. Just call it Briar.”

Wallace bowed politely. “Senior Sister Briar.”

Briar, no longer the timid little thing it once was, replied calmly, “I’m not your senior sister.”

Wallace looked confused. “Whoever enters the sect first is the senior sister, regardless of age.”

Lauren sighed. “You don’t understand. It’s a ten-thousand-year-old Monster.”

Briar corrected immediately, “Over a hundred thousand.”

Lauren: “…”

Wallace stared at the small, cute figure in front of him.

Lauren added, “It’s not human. Briar, show him.”

Briar’s face instantly transformed into a giant red flower. It looked ridiculous.

Wallace’s eyes widened. A flower spirit? Master keeps flower spirits? This peak is… interesting.

Wayne tugged his sleeve. “Come on. I’ll show you around.” The two boys left together.

Tarot watched them go and chuckled. “He’s polite. Good kid. And he’s already grown. No need to wipe his nose or carry him around. We can even make him run errands.”

Lauren grinned. “We were thinking the same thing.”

“You’re smart,” Tarot said approvingly. “Picking the older one. Unlike your master, who brought me a little brat. From now on, I’ll only take older disciples too.”