C5 The Mysterious Third Uncle

Lin Yaoyang barely needed a glance to know that the object in question couldn't possibly be the head of a Demonic Tiger. Aside from other telltale signs, he was familiar with the stall owner—a fact well-known among those who frequented the market for some time.

The stall owner's real name was a mystery; everyone simply referred to him as Third Uncle. His days were spent duping unsuspecting rogue cultivators who wandered by, and even the younger members of Qingye Town's prominent families had fallen prey to his schemes.

Naturally, this raised the question: hadn't anyone ever confronted Third Uncle for his deceit? Indeed, there was an incident involving a disciple from a prestigious sect who, after being swindled down to his last possession, only realized he'd been conned upon returning home.

Enraged, he rallied numerous experts from his sect to seek retribution in Qingye Town. Among those summoned were several Martial Arts masters, including a formidable Wu Zong-level leader—a rarity in Qingye Town, where the majority of cultivators were martial artists, many of whom would never advance beyond the status of a Level 9 Warrior.

Becoming a martial master was an achievement for the select few, and the town's sole Martial Arts practitioner was the Town Marshal, who had reached only Level One Martial Arts and could ascend no further.

The world's cultivation hierarchy was divided into nine major levels: martial artists, martial masters, Martial Arts, Wu Zongs, Martial Emperors, Martial Extremes, Martial Saints, Titled Fighters, and Martial Gods.

Reaching Martial Extreme meant scaling the world's summit, while Martial Saints and Titled Fighters were the true power brokers shaping the world's destiny.

As for Martial Gods, they were likely a mythological concept, as none had emerged since ancient times. The title lingered, leaving Lin Yaoyang and his contemporaries to ponder its significance. Meanwhile, when that sect disciple and his entourage finally caught up with Third Uncle, they could never have anticipated what awaited them.

The following day, only the Wu Zong level individual left with a respectful demeanor. He faced Third Uncle's residence, his back to the road, and walked several hundred meters before turning around to swiftly depart.

Those who had accompanied him were never seen again. From that point on, Third Uncle became a forbidden topic among Qingye Town's elite. No one dared to cross him. Several families, including the Lin Family of Lin Yaoyang, had sent representatives to reach out to Third Uncle, but none received a response.

Left with no other choice, these families resigned themselves to the situation and cautioned their younger members not to antagonize Third Uncle, lest they bring about their own family's downfall.

As for the so-called Demonic Tiger's head, it was clearly just that of an ordinary tiger. A true Demonic Tiger, with the fighting prowess of a Third Grade Martial Master, would have its Qi stored in a groove between its brows.

But this head had a smooth forehead with no such indentation. The onlookers, mostly inexperienced family disciples, were unaware of the differences between a Demonic Tiger and a regular tiger.

The seasoned mercenaries, familiar with the Demonic Beast Forest and its inhabitants, scoffed at the spectacle. None of them gathered to watch, recognizing the ruse for what it was. They found amusement in the deception of the naive young masters and mistresses and refrained from offering any warnings.

Lin Yaoyang, with a knowing smile, shook his head and walked away. He had come to purchase a Demonic Core, not to squander his time on distractions.

Unbeknownst to Lin Yaoyang, as he turned to leave, Third Uncle, who had been busily swindling the young nobles, paused and fixed a penetrating gaze on Lin's retreating figure, a glint of contemplation flashing in his eyes.

Oblivious to Third Uncle's scrutiny, Lin Yaoyang continued to amble through the market. Upon spotting a weapon shop, a thought struck him. He recalled the weapon he had previously disassembled, which had earned him ten points. Why not buy more weapons, break them down for points, and accelerate his leveling up?

Elevating from zero to one cost Lin Yaoyang a mere five points, but advancing to level two required ten points. As Lin Yaoyang pondered, he realized that a weapon was valued at ten points. A simple iron sword could be had for just one silver coin, so with the gold coins in his possession, couldn't he easily elevate himself to the rank of Martial Master, or even Martial Arts level?

Salivating at the thought, Lin Yaoyang hurried into the weapon shop and grabbed a sword. He inquired of the proprietor, "How much for this blade?"

The shopkeeper's eyes lit up at the prospect of a sale. He scrutinized Lin Yaoyang, noting his clean, orderly appearance, which didn't suggest a rough-and-tumble type. A glance at the badge on Lin Yaoyang's waist, emblazoned with a large forest emblem, clued him in—this was a member of the esteemed Lin Family. His grin widened; these naïve, wealthy clan scions were ripe for the fleecing.

With a sly twist of his mouth, the shopkeeper inflated the price of the ordinary iron sword, which was worth only two silver coins, and declared, "Eight silver coins! Firm price!" He then adopted a take-it-or-leave-it stance.

Lin Yaoyang chuckled at the audacity and countered, "You expect to sell this piece of junk, forged from crude iron, for two silver coins?"

The shopkeeper bristled at the insult, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "How dare you call my sword junk! I'll have you know, I, Fatty Soong, have been running this shop for twenty years. No one has ever dared to disparage my swords!

Listen here, young master, if you're buying, then buy. If not, put my sword back where you found it! Eight silver coins, and that's the final offer."

Lin Yaoyang's brow furrowed as he inspected the sword more closely. It lacked any shine, and despite being freshly forged, the blade's color was already dull and lifeless—a clear sign of the blacksmith's mediocre craftsmanship.

The blade of the sword was noticeably thick, a clear sign that the blacksmith's skills were lacking during the folding and forging process. The insufficient number of folds resulted in a sword that was undeniably unwieldy.

The swordsmith must have been aware of this flaw, as he put considerable effort into sharpening the blade after its completion, giving it an impressively sharp appearance.

Yet, Lin Yaoyang understood that appearances could be deceiving. This sword was impractical for combat. Relying on such a subpar weapon in a fight could cost him his life within moments.