At this point, one of the stewards suddenly seemed to remember something.
"By the way, Steward Andrew, there’s something we’ve been too afraid to tell you..."
"What is it?" Andrew raised an eyebrow slightly.
The stewards exchanged glances, and then one of them whispered:
"Your senior brother, Andre the Archmage, has returned from the Endless Sea. He’s expected to arrive at our Winter Spring Valley in a few days."
In an instant, they noticed a subtle change in Andrew’s expression. His eyes narrowed, glinting with a chilling light.
"Oh?" he said, squinting. "Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?"
The steward wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and stammered, "Well... uh..."
It was precisely because they knew the relationship between the two that they had hesitated to speak up.
These stewards were well aware of the deep-seated animosity between Andrew and his senior brother. Back in the day, they had nearly come to blows over the position of the First Steward.
During their time in Winter Spring Valley, the stewards had witnessed firsthand what it meant for two titans to clash. It was a rivalry that had lasted since childhood.
If your mage tower was an inch taller than mine, I’d make sure mine was a foot taller by tomorrow!
If you mastered one forbidden spell, I’d master two!
If you had one son, I’d have two just to outdo you!
There was even that one time in the bathhouse when they accidentally caught a glimpse of each other and noticed a difference of a few micrometers... and that was enough to spark another round of competition.
In the end, they overused magic potions, which led to... well, let’s just say they both suffered a backlash.
Everything shrank!
They thought that would be the end of it.
But then, just because one of them accidentally noticed that the other was a few micrometers smaller...
They started competing over who could be smaller!
O(╥﹏╥)o.
Just recalling those days made all the stewards feel a wave of phantom pain.
"Steward Andrew, we all know there’s some tension between you and your senior brother, but..."
The surrounding stewards wiped their sweat and continued:
"Now your senior brother holds a different status. He’s the First Bishop of the Sea God’s Temple. This time, he’s surely returning for important discussions with Winter Spring Valley. You really need to tread carefully!"
[The Sea God’s Temple?]
Andrew snorted coldly and said indifferently, "What? Do you think a First Bishop is more prestigious than a First Steward? Do you expect me to kneel and call him ‘Father’?"
"Not at all! Not at all!" The stewards widened their eyes in panic. "Please don’t misinterpret our words! We’re just trying to give you a friendly reminder!"
Andrew flicked his sleeve and turned away, saying calmly, "Enough. I understand what you’re trying to say. Although we’ve never gotten along, that was a hundred years ago. Do you really think I, Andrew the Archmage, am that petty?"
The others trembled.
No!
We definitely don’t think you’re that petty...
But do you really have no self-awareness about your own pettiness?
Their eyes instinctively drifted to the floor in front of his chair, where the marble had slightly sunk from years of being stepped on.
And faintly visible in the depression was what appeared to be a name carved into the stone.
Then, their gazes wandered through the crack in the door to the training dummies outside in the square.
The face of one of the dummies looked eerily familiar.
Whoosh—
A magic arrow struck the dummy right in the forehead.
The stewards shuddered, snapping back to reality, their eyes wide and their throats dry.
Is this what you call being petty, Steward Andrew?
"Enough!" Andrew waved his hand grandly, his beard fluttering as he declared, "This meeting is adjourned. Dismissed!"
...
Several hours later.
In Nanako’s mage tower.
"It’s over, it’s over, it’s over!"
Nanako, dressed in a blue mage robe with her hair tied into two ponytails, paced back and forth, her small hands cupping her chin as she thought deeply. With each step, her long ponytails swished like ribbons.
On a nearby recliner, Lynn’s eyes followed the swaying ponytails, left and right, until his eyelids drooped with boredom.
"Master..." Lynn yawned, his voice drowsy.
"You’ve been pacing for two hours now. I’ve calculated that you’ve walked back and forth twelve thousand one hundred times, covering hundreds of kilometers. Aren’t you bored? In this time, you could’ve run several marathons."
Indeed.
Ever since the stewards’ meeting ended, Nanako had returned home and seemed to be stuck in an endless loop of pacing.
[Is she having a hyperactivity episode→_→? Otherwise, why has she been so restless lately?]
[Master, we’re almost out of gold coins. If your salary doesn’t come in this month, I’ll have to sell your jewelry and clothes!]
[Nanako’s Mage Brand Cloth Armor, petite size, two gold coins each, fair price, no scams~]
[Hahahaha—]
Nanako suddenly turned her head, her gaze locking onto Lynn.
In the reflection of Lynn’s eyes, the petite mage floated over like a ghost and slammed her hands on his shoulders.
Her blue eyes ( ̄^ ̄) glared down at him.
Lynn gulped, his eyes wide.
Since he was lying on the recliner, Nanako’s position created a somewhat domineering posture.
Lynn coughed awkwardly and said, "Uh... Master, it’s still noon. There are several hours until nightfall. Maybe..."
"Stupid disciple, stupid disciple, stupid disciple!!!!"
Nanako (〃>皿<) shook her head vigorously, her long ponytails whipping Lynn’s face at an unimaginable speed.
Slap, slap, slap, slap, slap—
The rhythmic slapping sounds echoed through the room.
Lynn: "!!!!"
"Stop! Stop! Master, please stop! This really hurts!"
Suddenly, Nanako grabbed his shoulders and pulled him close, her face o(≧口≦)o as she cried:
"Disciple, help me think of something! Andre the Archmage is coming back, and he’s definitely bringing Juejuezi with him. She’s going to come after me, she’s going to bully me!"
Lynn stared in horror at her ponytails.
[No, I have to find a way to cut these ponytails off. They’re too dangerous.]
[This crazy loli has clearly found a new weapon to torment me. I need to nip this habit in the bud!]
[Otherwise, my life will be miserable!]
"Juejuezi?" Lynn asked, startled. "Who’s that?"
Nanako glared, pulling Lynn closer and gritting her teeth. "Someone who’s always picking fights with me!!"
Lynn: "Huh?"
...

ose... to cooperate with the protagonist! Shen Yuan: I have a system! Protagonist: What? System: Holy crap, you're just spilling it out like that? Shen Yuan: Let's team up, we'll split the system rewards! Protagonist: Fifty-fifty split? Shen Yuan: No way! Protagonist: What!? I'm the one getting beaten up, and I don't get half? Shen Yuan: Forty-sixty split, I get forty, you get sixty! Protagonist: Deal! Big brother, come on, hit me! As long as it doesn't kill me, beat me like you mean it! Shen Yuan: Don't worry... I will definitely protect all of you! No one but me can lay a finger on you! Guard our Heaven's Chosen Ones! I'm the only one allowed to bully them!

d intelligence to keep the plot moving, and sometimes even the protagonists are forced into absurdly dumb decisions. Why does the A-list celebrity heroine in urban romance novels ditch the top-tier movie star and become a lovestruck fool for a pockmarked male lead? Why do the leads in historical tragedy novels keep dancing between love and death, only for the blind healer to end up suffering the most? And Gu Wei never expected that after finally landing a villain role to stir up trouble, she’d pick the wrong gender! No choice now—she’ll just have to crush the protagonists as a girl!

rowess are unmatched, commanding a million-strong army! Yet, the Emperor wants to depose him for the sake of a false prince? Hold on, are you throwing me into some female-oriented romance plot? How can I tolerate this? With a grand wave of his hand—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! Slander the Emperor? Very well, all of you shall die! ... The False Prince: "Although I am not the biological son, Father and Mother love me more. The throne should be mine!" The Female Lead: "Qin Xiao, you are the Emperor, and I am a commoner. If you wish to marry me, you must abdicate. Otherwise, you will never have me!" The Empress: "After we divorce, you must give me half the empire!" The Transmigrator Consort: "You worthless Emperor, why should I kneel to you? All men are equal—I advise you to be kind!" The Great General: "The enemy general is my childhood sweetheart. For her sake, I willingly abandon the frontier defenses!" The Retired Emperor: "Although Yu'er was adopted, I prefer him. Qin Xiao, you should abdicate and let him become Emperor!" ... Very well! So this is how you want to play? Facing this twisted world of female-oriented tropes, Qin Xiao grins and raises his hand to unleash—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! I am the Emperor. Why would I bother reasoning with you? Seal the gates! Leave none alive!

transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”