Master of the System

Close to three hundred women were gathered around a plaza. They were the Moon Lotus Sect disciples who had signed up for the opening of the sect’s pocket realm. A few were cultivating with their eyes closed while others were gossiping with each other. A shadow fell over the group of women, and they all raised their heads at the same time. Nine boats had flown over the plaza, and with lights flashing from their hulls, they landed on the ground. Nine core disciples got out of the boats. They took in their surroundings before glancing at each other. Why were there only nine boats?

At that moment, a shadow fell over the plaza again, and an inner disciple let out a scream. An out-of-control boat was veering from side to side. Lights flickered on and off from its hull as it wobbled while it veered. Like a drunken bird, it swooped towards the ground, nearly clipping the nine other boats in the process. It crashed hard, screeching as it slid across the plaza, nearly plowing into the inner disciples. Luckily, they were all cultivators who had founded their formations. If they were mortals or unlucky qi-condensation cultivators, they would’ve found it hard to escape. The boat came to a halt after heavily crashing into a building. Thankfully, the building was reinforced. The boat was reinforced too. Because of that, a shockwave spread outwards from the point of collision as if a giant had clapped his hands.

The inner disciples and nine core disciples covered their ears, but there were a few who had fallen and couldn’t do the same. Everyone glared at the boat, and a trembling woman, Azalea, released the ship’s wheel. A moment later, a man with gray hair walked out of the ship’s cabin. He looked around. “Did someone shoot us down?” he asked. “Were we attacked by flying beasts? You should’ve alerted me.”

Azalea’s face flushed red. It wasn’t her fault the boat crashed! She had never flown a flying boat before, and she certainly didn’t have a license. She didn’t know why people didn’t need licenses to drive a flying boat when they were required for carriages and regular boats. Maybe cultivators were just assumed to be omnipotent people capable of doing anything. Azalea adopted a tactic from Grandpa Vremya’s book and completely ignored his question. “We’re here.”

Grandpa Vremya frowned at the women staring at him from below. There were a lot of them. “I have to make sure all of them make it back alive?” This mission was tougher than it seemed. If he was responsible for all three hundred women, then he wouldn’t have any time to cultivate or hunt treasures for himself. He might as well not go on the mission.

“No,” Azalea said. “There’s going to be ten squads of thirty.” She gestured towards the nine other boats. “They’re also guides. The pocket realm is a mid-sized one, and it’d be a waste if only a few people went inside.”

The disciples in the plaza scattered. They split into nine groups, heading towards the core disciples who hadn’t crashed their boats. Sadly, the slower ones were forced out of the group, and they could only reluctantly drag their feet towards Grandpa Vremya’s boat. “Greetings, Senior Sis-Brother,” one of the inner disciples said. For her, it felt strange to call someone her senior brother. There were only senior sisters in the sect. She squinted her eyes and glanced at Grandpa Vremya, eyeing his chest and crotch, trying to determine if he was actually a woman.

“So, this group is coming with me?” Grandpa Vremya asked. Including Azalea, he had thirty inner disciples to take care of. The rewards he would receive from the sect were based on his performance. If any of the disciples died, he would be handed a prison sentence. As long as they all lived, he’d receive the basic reward. If he wanted more credits, the inner disciples following him would have to bring back more things than the other groups. The core disciple who brought back the most successful group would be awarded with the feather of a silver chicken. Five feathers of a silver chicken could be traded in for a piece of an armor set of the sect’s silver chicken robes. There were five pieces to the set, and Grandpa Vremya was planning on collecting all the pieces before he condensed his golden core. However, it seemed like it was going to be tougher than he thought. The group of inner disciples were the ones who were the slowest to react; in other words, he had received the weakest batch.

All the inner disciples boarded the boats, and one of the core disciples waved at Grandpa Vremya from another boat. He had no idea who she was or why she was waving at him. He glanced at Azalea. “Is that a provocation?”

“That’s Michelle,” Azalea said. “We met her last year, remember? She was the manager of the mine before you took over.” She pointed at another core disciple. “I’m sure you remember her.”

Grandpa Vremya’s gaze followed Azalea’s finger. Once again, he didn’t recognize the person she was pointing at. It must’ve shown in his expression because Azalea seemed to have noticed. “That’s Ruby,” she said. “Elder Formation’s disciple? You humiliated her in front of the sect during your special privilege, remember?”

Grandpa Vremya grunted. Was it his fault all the women in the Moon Lotus Sect looked nearly identical? They all wore blue and white robes; they all had black hair; and they all cultivated the same technique that gave them pale skin and light-blue eyes. Also, it didn’t help that cultivating helped preserve their looks. If it weren’t for the fact the elders had golden lines embroidered along their robes, he wouldn’t be able to differentiate them from the disciples. As for why he could identify Azalea so easily, she wore two identity tokens on her waist: hers and his. Unfortunately, she had handed him his token, so when he looked at her and the rest of the inner disciples, he almost got them confused. To remedy this problem before it actually became a problem, he took a red ribbon out of his interspacial necklace and tied Azalea’s hair with it, causing the poor woman to stiffen and turn red in the face from the sudden action.

“W-what’s this?” Azalea asked, touching the ribbon in her hair. It was crooked. She was someone who cared quite a bit about her appearance, but she wasn’t bothered by the disharmony between the bright red of the ribbon and the muted colors of her robes. If someone like her father or her brother had given her the ribbon, she definitely would’ve been bothered. “I mean, thank you?”

Grandpa Vremya nodded. “Alright,” he said. “Fly the boat. Call me when we get there.” He turned and walked towards the cabin.

“Wait,” an inner disciple said. Grandpa Vremya didn’t wait. “Aren’t you going to give us advice…?” By the time she finished her question, Grandpa Vremya had already entered the cabin and shut the door, his eyes closed in meditation.

Azalea pursed her lips and shook her head. Once again, she had to do everything for him. Well, maybe she didn’t have to do everything. “Out of curiosity,” she said and glanced at her fellow inner disciples. “Does anyone here have experience piloting an airship?”

The inner disciples exchanged helpless glances with one another. It seemed like none of them had ever piloted a flying boat before. Azalea’s expression darkened, and she took in a deep breath as she marched towards the steering wheel. Even though her flying was atrocious, who wasn’t bad at something the first time they started? With a little bit of practice, she’d be flying as smooth as those core disciples who were already in the sky. She inserted her spiritual energy into the wheel, and the boat jerked forward. It slammed into the building ahead, knocking all the inner disciples off their feet. Luckily, Azalea managed to keep her footing, but she had done so by slamming her stomach into the steering wheel. A dark expression appeared on Azalea’s face as she placed her hand on the stick beside the steering wheel. She had forgotten to put the ship in reverse first.

“Sister Azalea,” one of the inner disciples said. “How about I fly the boat?”

Azalea inserted her spiritual energy into the wheel in response. The boat shot into the air at its fastest speed. The inner disciples wanted to scream, but the force pressing down from above kept the air in their chests. Azalea’s eyes narrowed as she sent spiritual energy into her legs, preventing her body from being pressed into the floor. She was the princess of an empire; there was no way she’d allow herself to be defeated by a boat!