Frank sneered. "Ms. Lionheart, don't you think you're being overconfident? Also, word of advice— take a closer look at what you're holding. Does it really have a hundred years’ worth of medicinal value?"

"What?" Sif did a double take but did not check her Hyperion Root as she retorted, "This is a Hyperion Root—there's no faking it. The roots are intertwined, a crystalline yellow and carries a fresh scent. How could it not be a hundred years old?"

"That's not quite right.” Frank shook his head and smiled. "Ms. Lionheart, the Hyperion Root grows one tertiary root every ten years, so why don't you start counting if it's the right number?”

Frank's words finally built doubt in Sif at that—if memory serves, it should be ten.

"One, two, three...” She started counting, her face soon falling once she stopped at nine.

She counted again and again, but the Hyperion Root only had nine tertiary roots. And she was dead certain there was no tenth root.

"Are you sure the roots decide the age?! I'll kill you if I find out you're lying!" Sif snapped at Frank, but her expression was clearly uncomfortable and her voice was shaking.

the boy from Hundred Bane Sect?

Bane Sect! Get over here!" Sif snapped at Tavis Holt right then, summoning him over. "The Hyperion Root—does

a lazy look at Frank before giving the Hyperion Root his full attention...

or his mentor would have his head for it... The

awkward smile. "Well, I'm sorry to tell you this, but the Hyperion Root was harvested too early. Each Hyperion Root is a

Another tertiary root would be

ten years?!" Sif

know how much a difference ten years makes for a herb, in both medicinal value and price. Being harvested a year early would mean a waste of

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