NOVPUBThe ticking sound of the pendulum was particularly clear in this tranquil space, with each meshing of mechanical gears keeping pace with time.
The candles on the long table gently swayed, their flames flickering brightly one moment and dimming the next, casting constantly shifting shadows on the silvery-white stone carvings on the walls.
Isatia, Talia, and Lanci’s conversation was sometimes light and sometimes serious.
"How powerful are you now?"
Lanci asked Isatia.
Before leaving this underground palace, he wanted to clarify this question.
Most of the time, inquiring about the true strength of some of the top powerful ones is considered impolite, like rashly asking an unmarried woman her age, as it involves personal privacy. But now, since they were going to entrust their lives to each other as teammates, it was necessary to fully understand each other.
Talia just glanced at Lanci, without judging whether his analogy was good or bad.
In the past, she thought it was somewhat abnormal for Lanci to think of her a hundred times a day, but now she had come to terms with it.
"I don’t know how to describe it. I only started seriously practicing a little over a year ago. Eighth-order should have several break points. A hundred years have passed, and I’m not quite sure if I have the strength to fight a Demon Tribe General from my early days, but if looking for a modern comparison, the first time I faced a Blood Clan Marquis, I almost couldn’t escape. The second time, I barely managed to fight on equal terms, but still couldn’t win…"
Isatia’s voice grew lower as she spoke, her eyelashes drooping, seemingly discouraged by the thought of the formidable enemies.
If she were as strong as a Ninth-order General from the Demon World of old, let alone one Blood Clan Marquis, she could handle two easily.
She hated how she had wasted too much time, feeling there was never enough time when true power was needed.
Lanci watched Talia’s eyes and efficiently shared his spirit with Talia, roughly analyzing Isatia’s strength.
It appeared to be at the Bishop Elect level, probably around level 85 to 86, stronger than Perlman, but not comparable to the ten standard "The Strongest" Cardinal Bishops of the Rebirth Church.
"No way, sis."
Talia suddenly realized something, averting Lanci’s gaze in amazement, staring at Isatia.
She pondered, based on Lanci’s level scale, she had risen from level 81 to 82 over a hundred years, barely achieving a three-minute stretch at level 84 with specialized gear.
Her sister strived for a bit over a year and had soared from level 80 to 85, 86?! 𝔫𝖔𝖛𝖕𝖚𝔟.𝖈𝖔𝔪
"Ah, these years I have found the formula for that potential-enhancing miracle potion, successfully produced it, and have taken it. My lifespan is now similar to humans, but my cultivation speed has drastically increased."
Isatia calculated.
However, had she not been slacking, over these hundred years, even without such a potion, she would have reached the peak of the Eighth-order.
If the Demon Tribe Kingdom still existed, she could have gained the Power of Faith quite easily and reached the Ninth-order.
In her opinion, reaching Ninth-order wasn’t that difficult; she simply hadn’t been interested before.
And she didn’t quite understand why everyone thought moving from Eighth-order to Ninth-order was as hard as scaling the heavens.
"..."
Talia, witnessing Isatia’s indifferent attitude, managed to read her sister’s thoughts.
It was the first time she felt the cruel gap in their natural talents.
Once, the demons had held her as the perfect princess, praising her talents. In reality, compared to her sister, she was more like a joke.
Only because her sister had slacked off for years had her life been saved.
Lanci controlled his expression with all his might, but still couldn’t help but appreciate Talia’s current expression.
Back in the Poseen Kingdom, Talia had proudly boasted to Lanci that she certainly wasn’t the weakest in the old Great Demon Clan. Now, it seemed she was indeed at the bottom.
"If you want to laugh, go ahead..."
Talia felt Lanci’s gaze, her eyes reddening as she spoke, tears uncontrollably falling.
"Wait, are you actually crying?"
Seeing that Talia was truly crying, Lanci became flustered, quickly leaning in to observe her tear-streaked cheeks.
He had never considered that the usually cold and detached Master would become especially vulnerable after arriving at this underground palace, frequently showing human emotional fluctuations.
"I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Tata, please don’t cry anymore."
Lanci took out a handkerchief, carefully and gently touching the pale skin by Talia’s eyes, apologizing to her.
He thought for a moment—Talia, although very prideful, was also strong-hearted.
She had experienced various hardships and had a better mindset than anyone; this setback could not defeat her.
What likely truly saddened her was the fact that her sister had consumed a potion that shortened her lifespan.
For the Long-lived Species of the Demon Race, such a potion was undoubtedly poison. If viewed from a human perspective, it was like reducing one’s lifespan to just a couple of years, ensuring a natural death soon—it was power gained at the expense of sacrificing one’s life span.
Talia didn’t want her sister to die within a few decades.
"Tata, are you thinking that Isatia will soon have to leave you again?"
Lanci’s voice softened a lot as he spoke beside Talia.
"Sobs..."
Hearing Lanci’s words, Talia cried even harder.
"Think positive, Tata. I can’t live more than a century either, and in a few decades, I’ll be gone, and then no one will annoy you anymore."
Lanci tried to cheer her up with the patience of soothing a child.
"..."
Talia’s crying stopped, and she set down her hands that had been wiping her tears, staring blankly at Lanci.
Lanci too could only live a few decades.
Why had she never considered this problem before?
