Strongest Family System

"Robert positioned himself behind an immense oak tree, the sturdy trunk giving him cover without blocking his view of the combat zone. His breath was measured, yet his thoughts flew as he calculated his next moves."

The approaching presences were stronger than the assassins he had just defeated. Much stronger. His enhanced spiritual senses could detect their cultivation levels even from this distance, and the readings made his blood chill. These newcomers were at Spirit Root Level 4—far beyond his current capabilities.

If more enemies come, and they are at the same level as those three, Robert thought grimly, I might be able to manage another fight. But against Spirit Root Level 4 cultivators? That would be suicide.

His recent battle had drained most of his spiritual energy, and while absorbing the soul power from the fallen assassins had helped recover some strength, he was nowhere near peak condition. Fighting even one Level 4 cultivator in his current state would be extremely dangerous, let alone multiple opponents.

Robert pressed himself closer to the tree trunk as three figures materialized at the edge of the clearing. Each was completely covered in black clothing from head to toe, their faces hidden behind dark masks that revealed nothing of their identities. Even their spiritual signatures were partially suppressed, making it impossible to determine which clan or organization they belonged to.

"The leader crouched over the scar-faced assassin's corpse, studying the clean cut across his throat. The other two fanned out, systematically inspecting the remaining bodies while sweeping the area for any sign of their killer."

"Clean cuts," one of them spoke in a low, muffled voice. "Whoever did this was skilled in sword techniques."

"Three Spirit Root Level 1 assassins eliminated without any of them managing to wound their opponent significantly," another observed, studying the shallow cut on Robert's cheek that had dripped blood onto a nearby leaf. "This was not a close battle."

"Robert held himself utterly still, using his Shadow Step skills to shrink his spiritual signature to almost nothing."

His pulse hammered as he observed the shadowy figures searching the area, aware that being found would seal his fate. The lead investigator stood and looked around the clearing with calculating eyes. "The killer is gone. These bodies have been here for at least ten minutes, and the spiritual energy traces are already fading.

"Should we pursue?" Asked the third figure.

"No point. Whoever eliminated these three was careful enough to avoid leaving a clear trail. We have what we came for."

The dark-clad trio worked with military precision, hauling off the dead assassins and eliminating every scrap of evidence. Minutes passed, and the clearing looked exactly as it had before blood was spilt. As quietly as they had arrived, the three mysterious figures disappeared into the forest depths, carrying the corpses with them.

Robert stayed concealed for a full additional hour, stretching his spiritual awareness to its furthest limits as he watched for more dangers. The forest gradually returned to its natural sounds—insects chirping, leaves rustling in the night breeze, and the distant call of a night bird.

Only when he was certain that no danger remained did Robert finally emerge from his hiding spot. His legs were stiff from remaining motionless for so long, but his caution had kept him alive.

Those were not random cultivators, he realized as he made his way carefully through the trees toward the Osborn estate. They came specifically to investigate what happened here. But who were they? And why did they care about three dead assassins?

"More questions crowded Robert's thoughts as he neared the familiar walls of his family estate. The night guards offered respectful nods as he walked by, completely unaware their young master had just escaped a lethal ambush and seen evidence of far greater schemes in motion."

"Robert moved silently down the estate hallways toward his room, his thoughts already processing the meaning of everything that had just happened."

The James clan had sent assassins, but someone else was watching those assassins. The web of intrigue surrounding his family was more complex than he had realized.

"When Robert finally entered his room and shut the door, he looked back on the night's chaos. His upgraded cultivation and fresh combat skills had saved his life, but they had also shown him just how much deadlier this world was getting."

The real question now was: who were those Level 4 cultivators, and what interest did they have in keeping track of failed assassination attempts?

Robert returned to his private quarters and immediately dug into his storage ring, pulling out several healing pills he had crafted before. The minor scratch on his cheek was not serious, but the massive drain on his spiritual reserves from the grueling fight demanded urgent treatment.

He consumed three recovery pills in succession, feeling their warm energy spread through his meridians and begin restoring his depleted reserves. The ache in his arms from deflecting the leader's massive strike gradually faded as the healing properties took effect. Robert assumed a meditative posture in his cultivation chamber and dedicated the full night to restoration.

His newly formed Spirit Root allowed him to absorb spiritual energy more efficiently than ever before, and by dawn, he had restored most of his strength while also gaining insights into his recent combat performance.

Meanwhile, across the city at the James clan compound, the three black-clothed figures had completed their grim task. They carried the wrapped bodies through the clan's rear entrance, avoiding the main courtyards where regular members might see their burden.

"Having placed the bodies in a secured storage room, the three Spirit Root Level 4 cultivators walked through the estate hallways toward Matthew James's private study. Their steps rang out menacingly in the early morning quiet."

Reaching the heavy wooden door of the clan leader's study, the lead investigator knocked twice with controlled precision.

"Come in," came Matthew's voice from within, though there was a tension in his tone that suggested he had been awake all night waiting for news.

The three figures entered and immediately bowed their heads with deep respect. Matthew James sat behind his desk, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep and his hands clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

Matthew nodded curtly at their greeting, his voice barely controlled as he spoke. "What is your report? Where are the other three members who went to kill Robert Osborn?"

The lead investigator felt his clan head's barely contained rage like a physical force in the room. Despite his considerable cultivation level, he found his voice slightly unsteady as he delivered the devastating news.

"Clan Leader," he began carefully, "they are all dead. We investigated the scene thoroughly, but we could not determine who killed them or discover why they were found in the forest rather than near the Osborn estate."

"Those words settled over them with lethal certainty."

Matthew James's face went through a series of expressions—disbelief, shock, and then pure, murderous fury. His spiritual energy began to leak uncontrollably, causing the very air in the room to vibrate with his rage.

His fist came down on the solid wooden desk with explosive force. The impact was so violent that the thick wood cracked straight down the middle, scrolls and inkwells scattering across the floor.

"GET OUT!" Matthew roared, his voice carrying enough spiritual pressure to make even the Level 4 cultivators take an involuntary step backward. "ALL OF YOU! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!"

The three investigators needed no further encouragement. They fled the study as quickly as dignity would allow, leaving their clan leader alone with his consuming rage and the terrible realization that Robert Osborn did not die.

Robert Osborn was far more dangerous than anyone had imagined.

Matthew James stared at the cracked remains of his desk, his mind churning with bitter realization. Every time he tried to kill Robert, his cultivators ended up dead. First, the four Body Tempering Level 9 members at the west market, and now three Spirit Root Level 1 assassins in the forest. Each attempt had failed more spectacularly than the last.

"who is backing him in secret?" Matthew snarled between clenched teeth. "All our efforts have come to nothing."

The pattern was too consistent to be mere luck. Someone or something was protecting Robert Osborn, and that protection was proving far more effective than Matthew had anticipated. His clan was bleeding valuable members with nothing to show for it.

Matthew forced himself to think strategically despite his rage. Direct assassination attempts were not working. He needed a different approach.

"I have to wait until the right opportunity presents itself," he said quietly in the empty room. "Or perhaps... find allies who share my desire to see the Osborns destroyed."

Another possibility occurred to him—one that would require significant resources but might prove more effective than using his people.

"The Assassin Guild," he whispered. Professional killers with no connection to his clan, skilled enough to handle whatever mysterious protection surrounded Robert.

Matthew James began planning his next move, but this time, he would not underestimate his young enemy again. The game had changed, and so would his tactics.

"Young Osborn had claimed multiple victories, yet the conflict was nowhere near its end."