Strongest Family System

"The central hall of the Walker house stayed dimly lit, torch fires casting shifting shadows along the polished stone flooring." Elder Tom occupied the elevated chair, his face displaying serious concern, while Mathew James positioned himself beneath, hands folded in deference."

Elder Tom's voice cut through the stillness, low and firm.

Since you hold the ancestral token, the Walker clan will honor the promise. But our aid is not endless—remember this, Mathew James. You have only three days of support. Within that time, if the Osborn clan is not destroyed, the Walker clan will withdraw completely. How you bounce back or not really relies on your personal strength.

Mathew's breath caught in his chest, but he bowed deeply. "Yes, Elder Tom. I understand."

Elder Tom raised his hand, and the man standing silently behind him stepped forward. "His towering figure threw a stark shadow across the chamber, his demeanor serene yet weighty, like stone bearing down from above."

"This," Elder Tom said, his tone carrying weight, "is Billy Walker. Thirty years of age, Spirit Root Realm—Level Three low stage. He is one of our younger blades, sharp and unyielding. For three days, he will lend his strength to the James clan.

How you use him… That will decide your fate. Billy clasped his fists toward Elder Tom, then turned toward Mathew, his gaze steady but cold. "I will obey the elder's command. For three days, my sword is yours. Do not waste it.

Mathew's heart pounded. A Spirit Root Realm cultivator—stronger than anything the James clan could muster themselves. Relief washed over him, but also pressure. Three days… That was all the time he had to crush the Osborns.

Elder Tom's gaze swept over them both, sharp as a blade. "Good. At dawn tomorrow, you will depart together. Do not return until your task is complete—or until your three days are spent. Go and prepare."

Mathew clasped his fists once more, bowing deeply. "Yes, Elder Tom!" Billy gave only a silent nod. The decision was made. The Walker clan had spoken.

"As Mathew departed the vast hall, the chilled night air caressed his face, yet it offered no comfort against the maelstrom swirling within his spirit. His mind churned with blueprints, estimates, and a fusion of apprehension and excitement."

The token had been used, the favor claimed. Now everything rested on what happened in the next three days. Behind him, Billy Walker followed at a steady pace, his presence like a silent blade—waiting to be unsheathed. Far away, within the Osborn estate.

After leaving Elder Chris's study, the two men parted in silence. Sai's figure melted into the shadows, his task clear—deploy every spy and shadow to track the James clan. His steps made no sound, and within moments he was gone, vanishing into the night like mist.

Robert, however, walked back toward his quarters, his expression grim. Once inside his room, he shut the door with a dull thud and sat heavily on the edge of his bed.

His mind refused to rest. If the James clan really gains support… What happens when a cultivator stronger than us appears? What if they bring someone beyond Spirit Root Level One?

His fists tightened. "Father remains in isolation. Should he emerge, indeed, our prospects will improve—but what if the adversary remains more powerful?"

Then even Fatwon won't be able to stop them… And the Osborn clan will be destroyed. "The heaviness of these considerations settled on him like bedrock, prepared to crush his resolve. His breath became strained, his chest compressing with anxiety."

Then Ding!

A cold, mechanical chime rang within his consciousness.

[System Notice: The host may purchase a hired assassin through the System Store.]

[Note: The Assassin will obey only the host. Terms and conditions apply.]

Robert's eyes widened. He jerked upright, his heart pounding wildly.

"What…?" His voice was a whisper, half in shock, half in disbelief.

The voice came again, steady and cold.

[Would you like to open the Assassin Store?]

At first, Robert's face was pale, uncertain if he had misheard. But then, slowly, a smile stretched across his lips. His eyes gleamed dangerously in the dim lamplight.

"System… You have been hiding this all along, haven't you?"

He steadied his breath. "Open the store."

Immediately, a translucent golden screen bloomed before his eyes. Rows of dark, shadowy figures materialized, hidden in the gloom. Each bore a label, its name hidden, but its strength and price were listed clearly. The cheapest assassin: 10,000 System Points.

The strongest reached millions of points; their cultivation levels were terrifying. Robert scrolled quickly, scanning each entry. His pulse quickened the deeper he searched—until his eyes landed on one that made his breath hitch.

[Assassin: Shadow Reaper]

Cultivation: Spirit Root Realm, Level 5 (Peak Stage)

Price: 300,000 System Points

Requirements: 1,000 Soul Points for activation.

Duration: 1 hour per 1,000 Soul Points consumed.

Description: A merciless blade hidden in the dark. Strikes without hesitation. Leaves nothing behind.

Robert's hands trembled slightly—not from fear, but exhilaration.

"A Spirit Root Real level 5 peak level." His lips curled into a slow, sharp smile. Although the James clan brings support, they return with their so-called backers… This assassin could slaughter them all. Excitement lit in his chest like fire. 300,000 points… Costly. And I will need soul power to maintain it. But if I can prepare properly, then when the storm comes… The James clan will bleed beneath my blade.

The flickering lamplight painted his face in alternating gold and shadow. His eyes gleamed with ruthless resolve. For the first time, Robert sensed the terror within his chest dissolving—supplanted by assurance as keen as an unsheathed blade.

The Osborn family would not submit. Should the James clan desire conflict, Robert would respond with an instrument they could never anticipate."

"The darkness faded.

Within Celestial Brook City, morning radiance swept across the Walker clan residence, turning roof tiles to burnished gold. Gentle mist wandered through bamboo clusters as songbirds called in the distance.

Mathew James positioned himself beyond the guest quarters, maintaining upright posture despite his sleepless hours. His gaze blazed with resolve, though beneath that intensity lurked subtle apprehension.

From behind, measured footfalls drew closer."

Billy Walker stepped forward, garbed in midnight green vestments, his features exhibiting tranquil restraint. His aura carried quiet weight—subtle yet sharp, like a sword that had tasted battle. Just standing beside him made Mathew feel both reassured and pressured.

"You did not rest," Billy said flatly, glancing at Mathew's tired face. Mathew forced a faint smile. "Too much at stake. Sleep would not come easily."

Billy said nothing, only adjusted the long blade at his waist. His silence alone spoke of confidence—three days were all he needed. Moments later, Elder Tom arrived at the courtyard gates, hands clasped behind his back. His eyes swept across the two men, lingering on Mathew before shifting to Billy.

"Remember," Elder Tom said, his voice heavy. "This aid lasts only three days. Billy will lend his blade, but how you choose to act is on you, Mathew James. If your clan cannot rise even with this chance… Then perhaps fate has already chosen your end."

Mathew bowed deeply, his voice firm. "Elder, I will not waste this chance. The James clan will endure." Elder Tom gave a slow nod. "Then go. Do not return here unless the Osborn name has been struck down."

The gates creaked open. "A coach remained beyond view, horses striking the terrain beneath, their breath producing haze in the cool morning light." Mathew stepped forward, his fists clenched. Behind him, Billy Walker followed like a shadow—silent, sharp, and deadly.

The path to Magical City lay ahead. The storm was moving closer.

"The cart proceeded slowly from Celestial Brook City, its wheels grinding stone fragments beneath." Delicate haze embraced the trail, cloaking all surroundings in ghostly, cream-coloured mist." Inside, Mathew James sat upright and rigid, eyes focused on the changing vista."

His thoughts churned like a storm. Three days. Just three days… The weight of his grandfather's token pressed heavily on his mind. He had used their only chance, and now everything depended on how well he could grasp this fleeting support. Failure was no longer an option. "If the James family failed, there would be no second chance."

Across from him sat Billy Walker. The man's posture was relaxed, yet his very presence seemed to slice through the air like an unsheathed blade. His calm eyes carried no warmth—only the quiet confidence of a warrior certain of his own strength.

Mathew stole a glance at him. Though Billy was younger by a few years, his cultivation stood far above anything the James clan could muster. Level three of the Spirit Root Realm—his strength could easily overwhelm the Osborn's meager defenses. And yet… Three days was a short time. Too short.

The road stretched endlessly before them. The further they traveled, the closer they drew to Magical City—and the confrontation that would decide the fate of their clans.

Mathew squeezed his hands closed, fingernails cutting into his flesh. Osborn's… You have taken our merchants, our name, and our pride. With the Walker clan's aid, I will erase you from the city.

Billy shifted slightly, his gaze fixed out the window, expression unreadable. To him, this was no clan rivalry. It was simply an order to be carried out.

The morning sun rose higher, burning away the mist. Ahead, the storm was waiting.