Pregnant Cultivator, Doted by Big Boss

Next came Elder Sawyer, who was passing by with his disciples.

Seeing Javier Sinclair standing not far away, they paused for a moment before stepping forward to bow.

"This subordinate greets The Exalted One."

"This subordinate greets The Exalted One."

"Elder Sawyer, good morning."

Elder Sawyer was stunned by the favor.

"Good morning, Exalted One."

’Something’s not right... If this were in the past, it would be normal not to see The Exalted One for three or five years at a time, what with how he comes and goes like a ghost. After he got a wife, they certainly started seeing him more often. But for him to show up here so early in the morning—something was definitely up.’

Remembering that yesterday was The Exalted One’s birthday, he gave it a moment’s thought and immediately understood.

Elder Sawyer’s gaze swept over him, and he instantly got it.

The accessories The Exalted One usually wore were all sorts of top-grade treasures. For example, his Dragon Pattern Hairpin was an Immortal Grade Magical Artifact. But today, of all things, he had switched to a very low-grade hairpin. There was only one explanation: it was a gift from his wife. The style of this hairpin was novel and unique; one glance was all it took to tell it was his wife’s handiwork.

"The Exalted One’s hairpin today is quite unique. One can tell at a glance that it is the handiwork of your wife."

Javier Sinclair was pleased, but his face remained impassive as he gave a slight nod.

"Yes. It was a gift from my wife."

"You’ve worked hard, Elder."

He said, patting him on the shoulder before walking away.

Watching Javier’s departing figure, Elder Sawyer let out a soft chuckle. ’The Exalted One really has changed.’

After making the rounds and showing off to everyone he could, Javier Sinclair was satisfied. Finally, he went to guide his son’s Cultivation, not forgetting to show off in front of him as well.

"Dad, you’re not with Mom this early in the morning? You actually have time to guide my Cultivation?"

Javier Sinclair lightly tapped his son on the head. "Who are you taking a jab at? Have you mastered the Ice Rain Sword Technique?"

"Not yet!" Aaron Sinclair rubbed his head and shook it slightly. "It’s a bit difficult. I’ve only learned the fourth stance. I’m learning the fifth now but haven’t quite grasped it yet."

His father had plundered this Ice Rain Sword Technique from some ruin. It was said to be on the same level as the Myriad Phenomena Sword Technique from the Immortal Sects.

The Ice Rain Sword Technique was a Cultivation Method of the immortal path.

Most members of the Demonic Sects cultivate Demonic Qi, so they wouldn’t be able to use it. But he was different. Aaron Sinclair possessed an Immortal Demon Body, allowing him to practice techniques from both the Immortal and Demonic Paths. Not only that, but he could also switch freely between Demonic Qi and Spiritual Energy. He was quite the special case.

If he had been born in an Immortal Sect, he probably would have been seen as an unlucky anomaly by those stubborn old fossils and might have been killed at birth. But as it happened, he was born into the Demonic Sects, and his father was none other than the Demon Cultivator Javier Sinclair. Who would dare say he was rejected by both the Immortal and Demonic Paths? They’d have to have a death wish.

Aaron Sinclair stood before his father, his eyes sizing him up before he let out a "Yo~". "Yo~ A gift from Mom?"

Javier Sinclair raised an eyebrow slightly and said, "Who else?" ’This hairpin was personally crafted by my wife. No one else gets this kind of treatment.’

Aaron Sinclair let out a mischievous laugh. "Dad, look at you, so smug. You’re not the only one. I have one too."

He held out his hand, revealing an ice-blue bracelet with a small bell attached to it, which would ring when infused with Spiritual Power. "Look, Mom gave it to me two days ago. Not bad, right?"

Javier Sinclair: "..."

Heh! ’I’m not jealous. Really, not jealous at all.’

A sinister smile spread across his face.

He grabbed his son and tossed him a short distance away.

"Son, it’s time for you to practice your swordsmanship. This father feels your swordsmanship is truly lacking. For the next two months, this father will give you one-on-one instruction and personally supervise your Cultivation. I will ensure that your Cultivation base improves and your swordsmanship is honed."

The subtext: brace yourself for the cruelties of the world, starting with a beating from your own father.

Aaron Sinclair, having steadied himself, put his hands on his hips. With a look of refusal, he said, "No way... Dad, are you sure there isn’t a little personal grudge mixed in here?"

Javier Sinclair let out another dry laugh. "Do I look like that kind of person to you?"

As he spoke, he leaned against the railing. With a flick of his finger, a branch broke off from a nearby tree. He beckoned with his finger, and the branch shot over with a SWOOSH, stopping not far from Aaron Sinclair.

"Begin."

He waved his hand.

Demonic Qi swirled around the branch, forming the phantom outline of a sword.

Feeling the oppressive aura, Aaron Sinclair instinctively raised his defenses to block.

"Dad, am I really your biological son? You’re going all out from the start?"

Javier Sinclair raised his eyes slightly and said lightly, "It’s because you’re my son that I’m hitting you. Otherwise, it would be someone else’s turn. The reason you can’t grasp your swordsmanship is that you haven’t experienced the cruelties of the world. Once you’ve been beaten up enough, you’ll naturally master it." After all, that was how he had learned. A few more beatings and he’d get it.

Aaron Sinclair looked at the branch facing him. No... it was a sword now.

’So strong.’

’I have to get serious.’

Otherwise, he was going to lose horribly. And even if he lost, his hair had to stay perfect.

He waved his hand.

A sword appeared in his hand.

It was the Fire Attribute Immortal Sword that Celeste Grant had snatched from Jocelyn Grant.

The sword radiated a wicked aura, but it was no peerless, malevolent weapon. Usually, the sword’s Sword Spirit did nothing but sleep. It didn’t like the sight of blood, and if it ever did get bloody, it would demand a bath in mountain spring water. In short, it was a sword with mysophobia.

So, unless he was facing a powerful enemy, Aaron Sinclair couldn’t even be bothered to use it when hunting Demonic Beasts. That’s right, this was the sword that "wouldn’t get close to women," and its Sword Spirit was a child. Aaron Sinclair had named the sword "Sword One," though he’d actually wanted to call it "Little Lazy."

At that moment, the Sword Spirit was hovering above his head.

"Master, you’re up so early."

"Alright, let’s get this over with so we can clock out."

The corner of Aaron Sinclair’s mouth twitched. He said, "It’s not early at all. I’ve never seen a sword as lazy as you. What kind of future will you have if you keep this up?"

"I’m counting on you for the future, Master. You work hard and get stronger, and I’ll just lie flat."

Aaron Sinclair: "..."

’Am I raising a sword or an ancestor? This is completely backward!’

This sword was indeed very sentient. Sometimes it would even run off to soak in a hot spring on its own, then have the underlings wait on it, wiping it down with the finest silk and taking it out to sunbathe. It knew how to enjoy life more than its master did.

’No wonder it said it didn’t follow Jocelyn Grant willingly back then. Now I believe it.’ Such a ridiculously high-maintenance sword—you’d never find another one like it.

Thinking of this, he sneered and said, "Don’t even think about slacking off. My dad’s training me for the next two months, so you won’t be getting any free time either."

"Noooooo..."

As a sword, its power was proportional to the strength of its wielder. Since it was now Aaron Sinclair’s sword, there was no way it could win against the Archfiend.

Two months. It wouldn’t be free for two whole months.

"I protest."

Aaron Sinclair: "Protest denied."

As they spoke, fluctuations of Spiritual Energy appeared around him, and Immortal Spirit Qi swirled about his body. As he gathered his Cultivation, the air instantly grew cold, and a layer of frost spread across the Sparring Ground, with him at its center.

In a mere moment, his figure flashed and was already clashing with the branch in the air. At the same time, copies of the branch materialized all around the Sparring Ground, attacking him. Every blow was lethal, yet perfectly controlled so as not to truly harm him.