The Seven Sisters and Their Hidden King-Chapter 441 – The Universe Cinnabar Tripod Cauldron

"Immortal Morality..."

Mark's expression turned strange.

As far as he knew, there was only one sect in the world that matched that name—or at least a variation of it. It was widely known as Grand Theft—a sect infamous for its underhanded methods and habit of stealing anything and everything.

They had no fixed base, and their members moved constantly, mainly because they had committed too many unspeakable acts. If they ever stopped in one place for too long, they'd be hunted down.

The reason he'd never heard of it as "Immortal Morality" was simple: no ordinary sect would dare include the word "morality" in its name.

In the entire Alps Mountains, no one dared to lay claim to such a righteous title unless they could actually uphold it.

That's why Mark was certain John meant Grand Theft, not Immortal Morality.

And yet... why did John look so damn proud about it?

Mark was completely confused. Watching John's smug expression, he couldn't help but think to himself:

"Since when did the disciples of Grand Theft become so confident? Did I miss something?"

Seeing the puzzled look on Mark's face, John smiled proudly and said, "Don't be jealous. The threshold to enter my sect is extremely high. Very few people can get in."

Then, with mock generosity, he added, "But... if you're willing to give up your current identity as leader of the Cinnabar Sect, I can make an exception and let you join—under me."

"...No, thank you. That's... too much for me to accept," Mark declined immediately, his voice stiff.

"You're welcome. I believe in your potential."

"No, really. I'm fine."

"Are you rejecting me?"

Mark nearly cried on the spot.

Of course, John was just teasing.

But before the awkward exchange could go further, Mark finally noticed something that made his face fall. The spiritual fire on the eleventh floor of the Cinnabar Tower—was gone.

Without the fire, the tower had lost its vital temperature support.

"John," Mark asked seriously, "did you take the spiritual fire?"

When he'd rushed into the tower earlier, he'd been too focused on killing the so-called sorcerer to pay attention to the environmental changes. Only now that things had calmed down did he realize the fire had vanished.

So that's what it's called? Spiritual fire... no wonder it felt different from regular flames, John thought.

Feigning innocence, John replied, "Spiritual fire? What are you talking about? I have no idea what that is."

He genuinely didn't understand why his body could absorb the spiritual fire—and for now, he had no intention of exposing that secret.

Besides, he'd already absorbed it. No way he was giving it back. He'd rather die than admit to taking it.

What could Mark even do?

Mark paused, still confused. Logically, John must've encountered the spiritual fire after reaching the top—but he seemed clueless.

Before he could press the matter further, Zack spoke up.

"Forget it, Mark. Don't worry about the spiritual fire. If he says he didn't see it, then he didn't."

Of course Zack could tell John was lying.

The guy was bald and missing eyebrows—clearly signs of exposure to the fire. Who would believe that he hadn't encountered it?

Only a fool would buy that.

Only someone like Mark.

But Zack didn't care about the spiritual fire. His mission was simple: protect the Cinnabar Tower and wait for the inheritor of Queen Cyan's will.

Now that the inheritor had finally arrived, his job was done. He was free to leave the Alps Mountains and explore the world.

As for the Cinnabar Tower—or its spiritual fire—that was no longer his problem.

In contrast, Mark looked absolutely miserable.

The spiritual fire was crucial to the tower. Its heat maintained the tripods in optimal condition for alchemy and cultivation.

The higher the quality of a tripod, the more heat it needed.

Now that the fire was gone, the tower would lose its special function and become just another building for storing cauldrons.

Mark felt like someone had stabbed him in the heart.

"Mark, are you in a bad mood?" John asked with mock concern. "Why does your face look like you've just swallowed something bitter? Even the corners of your mouth are twitching."

Mark remained silent, forcing back his rage.

Just then, Zack suddenly remembered something. "Oh, John—since you've inherited Queen Cyan's will, you might need a tripod cauldron in the future.

There's one on the tenth floor—the Universe Cinnabar Tripod Cauldron. It belonged to the former leader of the Cinnabar Sect. It's not as powerful as the Holy Fire Tripod, but it's still quite useful.

Why don't you go and take it?"

Mark almost collapsed.

Can you shut up for five minutes?!

Of course, he only cursed Zack in his mind. Out loud, he didn't dare say a word.

After all, Zack had seniority over him.

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Still, Mark was heartbroken.

He couldn't intervene in anything related to Queen Cyan's inheritance—that was her choice. But everything else in the tower was fair game in his eyes.

It was bad enough that the spiritual fire had been lost. And now John was eyeing the Universe Cinnabar Tripod Cauldron too?

How could he be happy about that?

John glanced at Mark and smirked faintly. Then, putting on an exaggerated, pretentious air, he said, "You're too kind. But if I take the Universe Cinnabar Tripod Cauldron, I'm afraid Mark will be upset."

Zack replied immediately, "Nonsense. Mark is absolutely not that petty. As long as you're fated to receive the cauldron, you can take it freely. Right, Mark?"

Again, Zack made the decision for him.

Mark's smile looked more like a grimace.

Fuck you...

Still, he forced a smile and said, "He's right. A cauldron of that caliber can't be taken casually. It depends on fate."

He was speaking the truth, to some extent.

Magical items like this had a spirit of their own.

Just like a sword choosing its master, a tripod cauldron required recognition. Without the item's acceptance, it was impossible to use it properly—if at all.

The Universe Cinnabar Tripod Cauldron was no exception.

Ordinary people couldn't even lift it.

But once accepted by the cauldron, it would become light as a feather, and even change size at will.

That's what the word "universe" represented—the ability to contain everything, and transform as needed.