Chapter 10 The Cosmic Ledger

Far from the muddy borders of Blackstone Town, deep within the heart of the Imperial Capital, the atmosphere inside the Star-Gazing Pavilion was suffocatingly tense.

A crystalline communication array hovered in the center of the room, pulsing with a faint, panicked magical frequency. It carried the final, terrified report that Mayor Silas had sent right before his mansion was occupied.

The Emperor sat upon his obsidian throne, his face hidden behind a veil of beaded jade tassels. His fingers, adorned with rings made of compressed stellar cores, tapped rhythmically against the armrest.

"Catching an Imperial silver blade with bare fingers? Breaking a Peak Qi Foundation weapon like a twig?" the Emperor’s voice echoed, low and dangerous. "The Vanguard fire was supposed to be dead. How does a sixteen-year-old boy possess the combat comprehension of a war god?"

An old, wizened minister stepped forward, bowing so low his forehead brushed the cold marble floor. "Your Majesty... there are ancient records of forbidden reincarnation arts. If Logan Vanguard has truly returned with his past-life memories intact, his growth will be exponential. We cannot subdue him with ordinary mortal armies."

The Emperor’s eyes flashed with a cold, predatory light through the jade tassels. "Then we do not use ordinary means. Gather the communication arrays. Contact the Void Merchant Guild. If the mortal realm cannot break him, we will trade with the forces around the universe."

In secret, the Imperial Court began to move. They bypassed local sects and tapped into cosmic channels, trading vast storehouses of the empire's premium spirit veins and ancient star-maps to gather the most powerful artifacts and mercenaries around the universe. They knew that to subdue a reborn sovereign, they couldn't just use brute force; they needed to target his physical limitations.

"No matter how grand his soul is, his vessel is still just a human teenager," the Emperor whispered darkly, staring at a cosmic scroll detailing terrifying, space-rending suppression formations. "A god-tier soul trapped inside a mortal body has a fatal flaw. We will find his weak part, and we will crush it."

Back at the newly occupied Mayor’s mansion in Blackstone Town, Logan was completely unaware of the cosmic conspiracies brewing in the Capital. He had more immediate, domestic problems to deal with.

Specifically, he had to deal with Mei.

"Drink it! You have to drink it all, Logan!" Mei insisted, aggressively shoving a massive, chipped ceramic bowl directly under Logan's nose.

Logan, who was sitting comfortably on a plush silk sofa in the mansion’s main courtyard, looked down at the bubbling, pitch-black sludge inside the bowl. It smelled like a mixture of rotten cabbage, wet dog, and burnt hair.

"Mei," Logan said, his eye twitching slightly as his commanding war god aura completely melted into pure disbelief. "What exactly is this?"

"It’s my grandmother’s secret Black Mud Root broth!" Mei said proudly, crossing her arms and nodding with absolute confidence. "The rumors in town said you used a forbidden Life-Burning Pill and were coughing up buckets of blood. This broth is guaranteed to cure lung rot, stomach worms, and accidental demonic possession! I brought a whole barrel of it on my wagon!"

Julian, who was standing nearby, quickly turned his head away, coughing into his fist to hide his laughter. Lord Vance and Mayor Silas, who were currently on their knees scrubbing the courtyard stone tiles with tiny brushes, peeked over, secretly hoping the young monster would poison himself.

Logan sighed, his shoulders slumping. His soul had commanded millions of soldiers and faced down primordial beasts, but a fourteen-year-old girl with a bowl of terrible folk medicine was a challenge he wasn't prepared for.

"Mei, my lungs are perfectly fine," Logan explained patiently, pushing the bowl a few inches away. "The blood was just a minor meridian misalignment. I don't have lung rot."

"That’s exactly what someone with lung rot would say!" Mei shot back, narrowing her eyes. "Drink it, or I'll tell your father to make you!"

"I am right here, Mei, and I am not getting involved in this," Julian raised his hands defensively, retreating toward the mansion’s weapon racks.

Before Mei could force-feed Logan the black sludge, a loud, panicked commotion echoed from the heavy iron gates of the mansion.

One of the mansion guards came sprinting into the courtyard, his face completely pale as he tripped over his own boots, sliding into the mud right in front of Logan.

"Y-Young Master Vanguard! Terrible news!" the guard gasped, pointing frantically toward the city center. "A massive caravan just arrived in the town square! They aren't local merchants. They fly the black banner of the Void Merchant Guild! They brought beasts that float in the air and guards armored in star-iron!"

Logan’s eyes snapped open, a brilliant flash of gold light flickering within his pupils. The minor physical exhaustion in his chest was instantly forgotten.

He looked at the guard, a cold, sharp smile creeping onto his lips. He didn't care about the star-iron armor or the floating beasts. He only cared about one thing.

"A cosmic merchant caravan..." Logan murmured, standing up from the sofa and dusting off his pristine silk sleeves. "The Emperor works fast. The tools to subdue me are already arriving, and they brought the exact premium resources I need to cure my physical weakness."

He turned to the trembling guard. "Tell me. Do they have a Stellar Core Lotus or a high-grade beast core in their inventory?"

"Y-Yes!" the guard nodded rapidly. "The town crier said they are hosting a secret auction at midnight inside the town square! They are showcasing a thousand-year-old Stellar Core Lotus as their main attraction! But... but the starting bid is fifty thousand High-Grade Spirit Stones! Only royal families can afford it!"

Logan let out a soft, low chuckle that made Mayor Silas and Lord Vance freeze their scrubbing brushes in terror. It was the chilling, predatory laugh of a general who had just found a fully stocked enemy supply depot.

"Fifty thousand spirit stones?" Logan smiled politely, looking over at the gilded carriage parked in the courtyard. "We only have five thousand. It seems we are a bit short on cash, Father."

Julian walked back over, a knowing smirk on his face. "So, what is the plan, Logan? Are we going to find another donor?"

"Naturally," Logan replied, slinging a clean leather sack over his shoulder. He looked down at the terrified Imperial Inspector, Lord Vance, who was still kneeling on the floor. "Vance, stand up. Put on your best silk robes. You are an Imperial Inspector from the Capital, after all. Tonight, you are going to be my wealthy benefactor at the auction."

Vance blinked, his blood-nosed face full of confusion. "Benefactor? But my spatial ring is empty! You already took all my stones!"

"The merchants don't know that," Logan grinned, tapping Vance’s shoulder with a force that almost embedded the man into the stone floor. "You have credit, Vance. The Imperial Crown's credit. Tonight, we are going to buy a lotus on the Emperor's tab."

Lord Vance’s jaw dropped so low it nearly touched the freshly scrubbed tiles. "The Emperor's tab?! Are you insane? If I sign an imperial promissory note for fifty thousand High-Grade Spirit Stones to buy a body-tempering herb for a rebel, the Emperor will not just execute me—he will erase my entire ancestry from the history books!"

"Then you better pray I win my war against him," Logan replied smoothly, his voice dropping into that quiet, terrifyingly calm register. "Because if I lose, you won't have an ancestry to worry about anyway. Now, go change. You have exactly three hours to look like a man who can afford a galaxy."

Vance scrambled to his feet, weeping silently as he sprinted toward the guest wing to find a set of robes that wasn't covered in mud or horse dander.

Beside him, Mayor Silas was trying his best to look as small and invisible as possible, pressing his back against the stone wall. Logan’s gaze drifted over to him.

"Silas."

"Y-Yes, Young Master Vanguard! At your absolute service!" Silas practically jumped out of his skin, saluting with the leather whip still in his hand.

"You will stay here and guard the mansion with the elite guards," Logan commanded. "If a single drop of that black root sludge Mei brought is missing when I get back, I will make you drink the entire barrel."

Silas looked at the bubbling, foul-smelling black slime in Mei's ceramic bowl and swallowed hard. "I will protect it with my life, sir!"

Mei, completely ignoring the terrifying atmosphere, huffed and stomped her foot. "Logan, you're dodging the issue! You still haven't drunk your medicine! Fine, if you won't drink it here, I’m coming to the auction to make sure you don't collapse on stage!"

Logan rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling a genuine headache coming on. His physical body's mortal weakness was annoying, but Mei's stubbornness was an entirely different realm of cultivation. "Mei, an auction hosted by the Void Merchant Guild is not a marketplace for frost-killed herbs. It is dangerous."

"I don't care!" Mei snapped, pulling a rusty kitchen cleaver from the back of her herb wagon and waving it with absolute, fierce loyalty. "My grandmother said a Vanguard never backs down, and a neighbor of a Vanguard doesn't either! I'll be your bodyguard!"

Julian let out a hearty laugh, clapping his son on the back. "Let her come, Logan. Having a 'bodyguard' waving a rusty cleaver might actually make Lord Vance's aristocratic disguise look even more intimidating. People will think we are eccentric tyrants from a hidden supreme sect."

Logan looked at his father, then at Mei, who was currently trying to wipe a smudge of dirt off her cheek but only succeeded in smearing more white flour across her forehead. He let out a soft, defeated sigh.

"Fine," Logan muttered. "But the moment I tell you to hide, you get behind my back. Understand?"

"Understood!" Mei nodded vigorously, sheathing her rusty cleaver into a bundle of dried herbs on her hip.