Ever since the new batch of "refugees" showed up, Xu Tao's castle felt different.

What used to be a plain, lifeless fortress made of gray stone and empty rooms now actually looked like people lived there. The walls were no longer bare; they had wallpapers with colors that chased away the dull gray.

The cold stone floors were hidden under red and green carpets.

Xu Tao had made them by testing the Immortal Scribe's Alchemic Converter, hoping to create something useful, but ended up with these instead.

They worked well enough, so the maids spread them around. Qi lamps lit up the halls, glowing from walls and ceilings, always kept bright every day so there were no dark corners left.

All this were done by Wu Zetian's maids.

From the very start, they took over the castle like it was their own palace. They cooked, cleaned, decorated, and managed everything in sight. Armor and weapons were cleaned until they shone, then placed neatly along the hallways like ornaments.

Even the kitchen, once dusty and lifeless, now smelled of roasted meat, fresh bread, and spices strong enough to make a man's mouth water. The food looked like it belonged in a royal court, not in some old drafty castle.

That morning, Xu Tao walked down the hall after only two hours of sleep.

"Hm?"

He stopped when he saw one of Zetian's maids carefully arranging flowers into a vase. She leaned in close, tilting her head this way and that, judging which way the flower should face as though her entire life depended on it.

'I didn't ask for it, but they've turned this place into a real castle…'

Xu Tao shook his head.

Wu Zetian herself wasn't around, but her presence filled every corner. She didn't need to bark orders. Her maids carried her will, bending the castle into something she would approve of.

"Well, I suppose this is a good sign. Means we're finally getting some room to breathe." Xu Tao muttered, hiding his hands in his sleeves as he moved on.

He soon reached the dining hall.

The tables were already set with food, steam rising off hot dishes. A few familiar faces were present, waving or greeting him as he came in.

The main figures like Zetian or Jehanne weren't there—they had finished breakfast long ago and gone back to their work.

Xu Tao returned the greetings with a nod and sat down. He was about to enjoy his late breakfast in peace when—

BAM!

The doors banged open with a heavy slam.

Achilles stormed in. His forehead still looked swollen from the hit he had received earlier, but he strode proudly anyway. His blond hair was tied back in a warrior's knot, and his eyes burned with pride and anger.

Ignoring everyone else, he marched straight up to Xu Tao's table. Jehanne's knights, the Azure Dragon Sect's outer disciples, and Zetian's maids all turned their heads to watch, but Achilles cared nothing for their stares.

He slammed his hand down on the table.

"Xu Tao! Don't think your victory will last forever! Mark my words—one day I'll surpass you!"

After saying his piece, he turned at once, cape swaying behind him, and began walking away.

His Myrmidons looked lost, their mouths half open. They had come prepared for him to apologize about the sparring incident, but instead he threw away the script.

The hall fell silent.

Xu Tao blinked. He still had his chopsticks in hand, frozen midair. Slowly, he tilted his head and smiled faintly.

"Oh? That's good then. I'll look forward to it."

Achilles stopped mid-step. He had expected mocking words, or maybe Xu Tao's irritation... But he got encouragement instead.

His ears turned red. He clenched his jaw, then gave a loud, "Hmph!" and turned sharply to sit down on the same table. He snatched bread and meat off the table with the energy of a man eating his anger.

The Myrmidons chuckled at his childishness, then joined him. Soon the sound of chewing filled the room again.

Shaking his head, Xu Tao simply returned to his meal as though nothing had happened.

🔷🔷🔷

After breakfast, ten Myrmidons approached Xu Tao.

Their bodies were thick with scars, reminders of countless battles. They stood in a straight line, and the leader stepped forward. With a heavy salute, he spoke.

"Lord Xu Tao," his voice was rough, yet carried respect, "earlier today, you showed strength unlike any we have seen. We cannot ignore such skill. We beg you to teach us the way of battle, your martial path!"

Xu Tao raised an eyebrow. He glanced at Achilles, who was still tearing into his food. The young warrior didn't intervene, so Xu Tao assumed he knew about this request beforehand.

"Teach you? I was only swinging a stick," Xu Tao replied.

"Exactly," the soldier said, voice rising with passion.

"You fought with nothing but a branch, yet even so, your power was unmatched. That is why we ask you to guide us! Show us the path, where we can win battles with just sticks and stones!"

Xu Tao went quiet.

He could feel the honesty in their words. But he was already buried under the task of helping cultivators advance. He had no spare time to teach martial arts to outsiders.

'Still… a few words wouldn't hurt.'

He gave a short nod. "Alright then. I cannot train you directly, but I can point you toward the right path. Follow me."

The soldiers quickly moved aside.

Xu Tao left the dining room and led them into the courtyard. From under the branches of the growing Small World Tree, he picked up another fallen stick. He bent it lightly, testing its strength.

Facing the Myrmidons—and Achilles, who had followed as well—he began his lesson.

"In combat, the victor is not only decided by strength," Xu Tao said. "It is rhythm. It is flow. If your stance collapses, your whole unit collapses. If your timing breaks, your formation falls apart."

His words were simple, but vague enough to be interpreted many ways. To make it clearer, he swung the stick while embodying the concepts he spoke of, slowly at first, then faster.

The movements were plain.

They looked no different from a farmer working in the fields, swinging his hoe day after day. Or a woodcutter, chopping trees with steady practice and accuracy.

Yet, the Myrmidons' eyes widened. Even in the plainest swing, they felt balance, precision, and purpose.

"Never forget where you came from," Xu Tao continued. "Do not think yourselves weak. What you lack is not courage, nor even strength—it is refinement."

The soldiers' chests tightened. Their blood rushed faster.

They looked at each other, then dropped to one knee in unison. Their fists struck their chests, saluting Xu Tao with the kind of respect that words could not earn.

Though they couldn't fully understand the meaning of his lesson, they caught a glimpse of something beyond themselves—a path stretching toward the peak of power. The path they should've taken to protect their home and the people they cared for.

"Thank you for your guidance, Lord Xu Tao!"

With that, they saluted one last time.

The short lesson ended, but in their hearts, a new road had opened, leading to a brighter future.

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