Transmigrated with my corruption system-Chapter 9: The Awakening That Shook Tempest City

Chapter 9: Chapter 9: The Awakening That Shook Tempest City

Just as the chants grew louder, a sudden wind rushed toward him, ruffling his hair slightly and causing him to blink.

When he regained focus, an old man stood before him, causing his eyes to widen in surprise.

Before he could say anything, the old man slowly circled him, a sly grin on his face as he muttered.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Sharp nose, green robe, almost as handsome as I am. It seems fate has brought us back together... grandson!"

"Huh?" Ulric blinked, his mouth gaping slightly, unable to hide his astonishment at the old man’s shamelessness.

Mistress Aria at the side wasn’t doing much better. Just as he was contemplating what to do next, the air suddenly grew piercingly cold.

A sharp aura slowly filled the hall as measured footsteps echoed. A middle-aged man draped in white robes came into view, a sheathed blade hanging on his back.

"S-sword Master Aetherion?!" Mistress Aria stuttered, recognition flickering instantly as she stared at the approaching figure. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

A legendary hermit who had chosen the path of swordsmanship and dedicated his entire life to it. Tales of his terrifying feats circulated throughout Tempest City.

Few had lived after crossing him, and even fewer had seen his true face. But those who had, passed down descriptions and portraits, and now, looking at the figure before them, everything matched.

"Your stature is perfect. Not many are fit to walk this path, but the sword has chosen you. Are you willing to be my disciple and learn my way?" he muttered, ignoring everyone else and getting straight to the point.

"This..." Ulric thought, staring at the figure before him. Though the man’s aura was contained, his presence was uncontainable, giving Ulric the feeling that if he blinked. His body would be cleaved in half.

What level of swordsmanship did one have to reach to passively give off such pressure?

He didn’t have to wonder for long as a sudden booming crash echoed in the distance, pulling his attention away.

Rushing in from the hall entrance was a voluptuous woman draped in what appeared to be high-grade armor.

Her hair fell freely down her back. When he locked eyes with her piercing golden gaze, his body froze for a moment, his breath catching in his throat.

Her face... it was strikingly beautiful. He didn’t have time to dwell on it as the old man at his side suddenly yelled, his voice cutting through Ulric’s thoughts.

"Get away from him, you maniacal pervert!"

Ignoring the outburst, the woman pressed forward unfazed, walking straight up to Ulric.

Her eyes scanned his face as a smile spread across her lips, her eyes brightening further.

"You’re more handsome than I thought," she muttered, leaning forward. She brought her nose close to his chest, drawing in a whiff of his scent before she could stop herself.

"I’m taking you with me," she added, already dragging him behind her.

Sensing the piercing gazes from the others, her smile widened as she chuckled softly.

"Of course... I just want to ask him a few questions."

Aetherion and the old man exchanged glances, clearly displeased. They hadn’t come all this way just to watch an S-rank talent get snatched up so easily, at least not without a fight.

Just as the air grew tense, Ulric hurriedly cleared his throat, speaking for the first time since their arrival.

"Wait!"

Inhaling sharply, he regained his composure, finally understanding what was happening.

His awakening had stirred a massive commotion, drawing the local powerhouses straight to him.

Others might have been scared, flustered by the presence of such figures and the auras they emitted, but Ulric chose to see it as an... opportunity.

Nodding slightly, a thoughtful expression crossed his face.

"I think all your paths are profound. But words alone do them no justice. I think a small token from each side would help me make the right choice."

He turned first to the old man, his gaze falling on the ring on his finger, recognizing it instantly, an interspatial storage ring.

"That ring... it looks nice. How about you give it to me? I think we’re fated. It would make the perfect reunion gift, Grandpa."

He muttered shamelessly, causing the old man to stare at him speechless. His lips twitching rapidly.

He had thought he was the most shameless bastard alive, but it seemed he’d met his match. The little brat was absurdly greedy.

Shifting his gaze, Ulric looked at the white-robed figure, his smile widening.

"That sword," Ulric murmured. "It feels like it’s calling to me. Mind if I hold it for a few seconds?"

Aetherion’s brows arched as he stared at the youth, thoughts colliding in his mind.

If it were anyone else, they would have already been sliced in half. His sword was as sacred as his path.

Yet as he looked closer, this youth was far different from when he himself had begun his journey. The sword was not confined to a single path, and Ulric’s temperament was sharp and unyielding. Perfect for swordsmanship. That realization made him nod slowly.

"Interesting."

Turning to the last figure, Ulric smiled, his gaze briefly scanning her frame before he spoke.

"That hammer... isn’t it a bit too heavy for a pretty woman like you? How about I help you carry it?"

A moment of silence followed as all three figures turned to stare at him, stunned.

How could one person be so... greedy?

Mistress Aria and the others flushed on his behalf. They hadn’t known the young lord’s face was this... thick.

A peal of laughter rang out, cutting through the silence as Seraphina looked at Ulric.

"You have a glib little tongue."

She stepped closer, whispering into his ear,

"I wonder what else it could do."

She was starting to like this talent more and more.

Just before the others could speak and try a different approach, an overwhelming aura suddenly pressed down on the hall.

A black-robed figure stood at the center of it all. When his face came into view, gasps rippled through the crowd, followed by cheers.

The figure ignored them, a slow chuckle slipping from his lips.

"Haha... you’ve changed, Ulric. You’ve grown... bolder."

His voice carried traces of old memories.

Then it turned cold as he shifted his gaze to the three figures.

"Ulric is of House Greyson. The Bloodvein lineage burns in his veins. He shall remain."

He laced a strand of energy into the final words, causing the three figures to widen their eyes in shock.

"Mana...!"

That was impossible, unless he had already formed a mana core and stepped into C-rank.

"Father?" Ulric breathed softly, staring at the dark-robed figure as a surge of emotions from the old host flooded his chest.

"Lord Greyson!" Aria murmured, bowing her head instantly to the figure, joy filling her gaze.

Ever since the lord had entered seclusion, the Greyson clan had fallen into a period of decline. Without an active D-rank being to act as a deterrent, the other clans had bullied them relentlessly.

They had taken most of their resources, with even the possibility of annihilation looming as rival factions sought total control, many believing the patriarch had already died.

But it seemed he had merely been pushing for a breakthrough... and finally achieved it.

And now, with the birth of an S-rank talent, the future was growing even brighter.

The growing cheers from the crowd seemed to mirror her excitement. Recognizing their cue to leave, the three figures slowly turned away, though not without leaving a few words behind.

"The path of the sword is loyal. If you choose to follow it, find me at the edges of the city where the mountain peaks converge."

He nodded slightly in Greyson’s direction before walking away, followed by the old man, who tried one last time.

"Did I mention I have a niece? I think you two would be perfect together."

His lips twitched at the words, prompting Ulric to shake his head. It seemed the old man was even more shameless than he’d thought.

Turning his gaze, Ulric locked eyes with the woman as she flashed him a teasing smile.

"If you still want to relieve me of my hammer, find me at the Moonstar residence... maybe I’ll let you relieve me of something else."

She whispered the last words, giggling softly as she tossed him a medallion engraved with a crest.

Catching it, Ulric stared at it for a moment, a smile curving his lips. She seemed interesting. Maybe he would.

Tucking the medallion into his robe, he shifted his attention back to the figure above.

"Walk with me, son. We have a lot to talk about," Greyson sighed.

Nodding slightly, Ulric stepped forward, following behind the retreating figure as the crowd slowly dispersed.

He had seen him stop Cedric’s and Lady Valeria’s approach the moment he appeared. Did he know how they had treated Ulric during his absence?

He couldn’t be sure, but he knew one thing.

News of today’s events would spread rapidly.

And it would mark the beginning of his legend.