Novels by Bader

The dawn of the next day broke over the horizon, a soft, pale light slowly peeling away the heavy shroud of night. Within the serene confines of the "Listen-to-the-Rain Pavilion," located roughly ten miles from the sprawling estate of the Valerius family, a fragile stillness took hold. Gentle, biting breezes drifted through the courtyard, causing the wind chimes dangling beneath the tiled eaves to sway. They sang out in a rhythmic, clinking melody—a sharp contrast to the chaotic, heavy downpour of the previous nights.Julian, the elder brother of Caelum, had been living through a period of profound strangeness. Since the unexpected arrival of the guests from the Fang family, he had been forced to vacate his own private quarters in the rear courtyard, settling instead into the middle yard alongside his personal staff. Though a deep sense of irritation simmered beneath his composed exterior, Julian adhered strictly to the protocols of hospitality. It was not merely a matter of pride; he

Without a second thought, before Butterfly could alert Evangeline or Sylvia in the villa, Caelum circled around to the back of the wooden building and headed straight to his chamber. The air was thick with the scent of pine and the remnants of the night’s chaos. His heart thundered against his ribs, a frantic rhythm that mirrored the perilous reality he now inhabited. His clothes, damp and stained with the grime of the night, were a jarring reminder of the narrow escape he had just achieved. Every shadow in the villa seemed to hold a pair of watching eyes, and the silence of the night was not peaceful; it was heavy with secrets.At that moment, Butterfly hadn't run to Evangeline’s residence; instead, she had gone to find Beatrice, her heart gripped by an icy, paralyzing dread, hoping to wake her to search for Caelum together. When Caelum finally caught sight of her from the shadows, he felt a strange blend of amusement and a profound, melting warmth. This was perhaps the essence of hu

"A Master of Medicine?"Caelum smiled to himself; the "Black Tortoise Breath-Holding" technique were rare arts. It wasn't that few physicians knew of them, but that few had the capacity to execute them. They required mastery of acupuncture, identifying acupoints with precision, and a solid foundation in martial arts. Only those with internal energy could repair damaged organs. This was why a warrior like Lance, who suffered from damaged meridians, treated a physician skilled in this art with such profound respect.As he continued his own treatment, Caelum said, "I don't deserve the title of Master. It is merely a minor trick."*A minor trick...*Lance’s jaw dropped, leaving him speechless. This young man was exactly like the legendary medical masters of the "Shadow-Echo Sect"—his arrogance was truly staggering. If "Qi-Needling" were that easy, why would he be hiding in The Hundred Herbs Pharmacy, hoping for a stroke of luck?After a moment of silence, Lance asked hesitantly, "Since y

Caelum’s declaration was not a mere guess. It was a calculated realization born of cold, hard experience. Even now, with the dust settled and the chaotic echoes of the skirmish subsiding, the expected system notification—the reward he had banked on—had failed to materialize. That silence was louder than any shout; it signaled that the game was far from over, and that a far more dangerous player was watching from the periphery.He waited for a lingering moment, his senses stretched to their absolute limit. The night was thick with a damp, suffocating mist that seemed to press against his skin. When no one emerged from the shadows, he rasped out, his voice intentionally roughened to mask his true tone, "I just saved you from that black-clad assassin. Don't you think you owe me a conversation? Surely, the scions of the Valerius family aren't known for such blatant ingratitude, are they?"He scanned the narrow alley, his eyes darting through the darkness. It remained hollow, empty, and de

The night air was heavy with an oppressive dampness, and the narrow, winding alleys behind the 'Hotel of the Immortals' seemed to swallow the moonlight. While listening to the conversation drifting from the distance, Caelum knitted his brows slightly, his mind racing with possibilities. Despite the tension coiling in his gut, his feet did not stop following. He moved with a practiced, feline grace, his steps making no sound against the uneven cobblestones. As he walked, he shed his heavy outer robe, tucking it securely into his clothes to reduce his silhouette."There are only a few houses behind the 'Hotel of the Immortals'," Caelum mused internally, his pulse steady. "If there was anyone nearby that night, they would certainly have heard the sounds, or seen those people, and... they would have seen me."If the witnesses were merely gullible citizens, there would be no cause for alarm. The true danger lay elsewhere. The greatest fear was that they might be plants—agents with maliciou

Following the conclusion of Neil’s report regarding the initial phases of their counter-conspiracy, Caelum received the news with a strange, unnerving stillness. He did not celebrate, nor did he exhibit the relief of a man who had narrowly escaped catastrophe. Instead, he waved a hand with a dismissive, performative nonchalance, as if he were discussing the fluctuations of grain prices rather than the preservation of his own life. "Neil," he murmured, his voice laced with a subtle, mocking fatigue, "do not burden me with such grand titles. We are not architects of destiny; we are mere middlemen in a game far larger than our modest ambitions. The transactions between the Herb Pharmacy and the Xiao estate are matters for you and the Lady of the house. I am merely a glorified errand boy, ensuring that the ledger remains balanced, nothing more."In the dimly lit common area below, Silas, known across the lower levels of the criminal underworld as the 'Blade Maniac,' lay motionless. His bo

I leaned back in my chair, the leather creaking softly under my weight, as I studied the woman standing before me. Captain Mareona held herself with a rigid, military poise, yet there was a flicker of something familiar in the set of her jaw and the sharp, attentive light in her eyes. It took a moment for my mind to sift through the memories of the past six years, back to the early days when my grandmother had sent a contingent of four hundred soldiers to ensure my survival in this desolate state."You look remarkably like Captain Ela," I said, my voice cutting through the silence of the office. "Tell me, what is your connection to her? Are you perhaps her mother? Or given the lines of experience on your face, perhaps her grandmother?"The mask of military stoicism on Mareona’s face shattered instantly. A vein throbbed visibly on her temple, and her eyes flared with a sudden, indignant fire. "I am her younger sister!" she barked, her professional composure momentarily eclipsed by pure

To the common observer, four years is a period of slow, rhythmic change. But within the borders of the Secluded State, these years were a whirlwind of divine intervention and industrial revolution. I had long ago realized that borrowed strength was a deceptive comfort; a sword lent by another can be reclaimed, but the strength forged in one’s own meridians is the only true sovereignty. Thus, while the world moved on, I anchored myself within the heart of the Spiritual Land, a sanctuary that had transitioned from a hidden valley into a fortress of unparalleled sophistication.Under my directives, the transition was surgical. I had tasked Elder 1 and Elder 5 with a monumental architectural feat: the creation of a base that would serve as both a sanctuary and a laboratory. I demanded that the true heart of our power—the scientific facilities—be buried deep underground, hidden from the prying eyes of heaven and earth alike. I wanted a self-sustaining ecosystem protected by a multi-layered

The atmosphere within the governor’s grand office was thick with a tension that felt almost physical. Three days had passed since the silver and white mists of the system’s summoning had receded, and the reality of my new cabinet was beginning to set in. I sat behind the massive mahogany desk, my fingers steepled, watching the silent play of power across the room. Across from me sat the "Three Legends"—Lynch, Nel, and Holt—their faces etched with the fatigue of two years of relentless labor. Next to them stood the three scholars I had chosen to remain in the city: Elder 2, the stoic elven mistress of agriculture; Elder 4, the calculating human master of economics; and Elder 5, the dwarven architect whose eyes seemed to constantly measure the structural integrity of the walls.The silence was broken by Old Nel, who, true to his lecherous nature, was staring at Elder 2 with a look of undisguised, pathetic longing. His eyes wandered over the elegant curve of her elven ears and the poised

The shattering of the talent stone had left a ringing silence in the clearing, broken only by the heavy breathing of the three legendary nobles. Old Holt looked at the sparkling obsidian dust at his feet, his eyes wide and shimmering with a mixture of reverence and absolute shock. He looked at me as if he were staring at a god descended from the heavens. I knew you were special from the moment I laid eyes on you, My Lord! he exclaimed, his voice cracking with emotion. But this... this is beyond anything recorded in the annals of history. You possess the greatest talent that has ever graced the Vermilion Empire!Old Nel, ever the one to boast once his fear had subsided into pride, puffed out his chest and looked at the others with a triumphant smirk. Hmph! Forget the empire! Nel shouted, gesturing wildly. He has the greatest talent in the entire world! Even those pampered prodigies from the Central Continent, who think they are the darlings of the heavens, aren't fit to carry our Lord’

The passage of time is a fickle thing; to the idle, it is a slow decay, but to those with a kingdom to build, it is a fleeting currency. Two years had bled into the tapestry of history since I first stood upon the broken gates of the Secluded City. Now, as I sat perched upon a thick, gnarled branch of an ancient oak tree that guarded the perimeter of my estate, I looked out over a landscape that had been utterly transformed. The air no longer carried the stagnant scent of fear and poverty that the Lamonia family had cultivated like a toxic crop. Instead, it was filled with the vibrant, chaotic hum of a burgeoning metropolis.I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the sensory data wash over me. I could hear the rhythmic clanging of hammers from the newly established industrial district, the distant shouting of merchants in the central square, and the steady marching of boots that signaled the changing of the guard. The Secluded State had undergone a metamorphosis that defied every law

The stench of the dungeon lingered in my nostrils as I ascended the stone stairs, the silence of the underground replaced by the chaotic symphony of a city in the throes of a violent rebirth. Veldora followed a step behind me, his expression unreadable, while Kurma trotted at my side, occasionally licking his chops with a disturbing sense of satisfaction.I had missed it. The grand spectacle of the siege, the clashing of steel on the battlements, the dramatic fall of a corrupt regime—all of it had happened while I was stuck in a damp cellar watching two divine beasts have a snack. I looked at Veldora with a flash of genuine disappointment.Are you happy now? I muttered, my voice echoing in the narrow corridor. I missed the entire show. My first real battle, and I spent it listening to those two screaming for mercy. Now, all I see is a massive game of hide-and-seek played by an entire city.Veldora offered a small, apologetic bow. My Lord, the quality of a meal is often determined by t