The Water Kirin, a primordial spirit of the ancient wilderness and a mighty beast of antiquity, unleashed its power, causing the sky, once a tranquil azure, to darken in an instant, as if the very heavens themselves quaked in fear.
As the beast took its first step onto the stone steps, the calm mountain breeze turned into a howling gale, whipping through the summit of the Heavenly Reaching Peak with a sharp, piercing cry. The placid waters of the nearby pool began to ripple, trembling at first, then swirling violently, forming a deep vortex at the center, from which a rumbling sound seemed to emanate.
Moments later, a deafening roar echoed through the air as a colossal water column burst forth from the depths of the vortex. The column, as thick as three men standing shoulder to shoulder, remained solid and unyielding, looping in mid-air before descending upon the Water Kirin, coiling like a majestic dragon, gleaming and transparent, as it moved gracefully in the air.
At this moment, none of the Azure Ethereal Conclave’s disciples on the steps, not even the most accomplished among them like Qi Hao, could maintain their composure. Their faces paled, and some even trembled slightly.
The Water Kirin, a powerful ally to the venerable Master Qing Ye in his battles against malevolent spirits and demons a thousand years ago, and a being revered by the Azure Ethereal Conclave for centuries, now displayed its full might.
Among the Five Elements—Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth—the Water Kirin was the pinnacle of water-based spirits. Its ability to command water without any external assistance, summoning a massive and unyielding water column that twisted and moved in the air with no sign of strain, demonstrated its immense spiritual and mental prowess, far surpassing ordinary cultivators.
Even within the illustrious Azure Ethereal Conclave, few could match such a feat, let alone accomplish it purely through mental strength. As the world darkened and the winds raged, the disciples, witnessing the Water Kirin’s unprecedented fury, stood in stunned silence, unsure of what to do.
Suddenly, a stern voice pierced the air: “Noble Spirit, calm thyself!”
A figure clad in dark green, seemingly materializing out of thin air, appeared between the Water Kirin and the disciples. It was the Grandmaster Dao Xuan, the leader of the Azure Ethereal Conclave.
Five years had passed, yet he remained as ethereal and unchanging as ever, though his furrowed brow betrayed his bewilderment at the Water Kirin’s sudden aggression.
In this dire situation, with the young and talented disciples behind him, and the ominous water column filled with the shadows of ferocious beasts, Master Dao Xuan could not help but feel a sense of alarm. He inhaled deeply, reciting, “Heavenly Ancestors, bless us!”
Raising his hands, he formed a sphere in the air, his fingers tracing a slow but deliberate Taiji symbol. The pattern shone brightly, emitting white light and a halo of auspicious energy. Master Dao Xuan turned, his dark green robe billowing without a breeze, and the Taiji symbol immediately transferred onto the robe, expanding it tenfold.
With a thunderous crash, the Water Kirin’s water column struck the enlarged robe, the spirits of the defeated beasts within the column roaring in anger. The robe, struck hard, retreated several paces, the center bulging under the force. The disciples, nearly knocked off their feet, were thrown into disarray, with only a few of the more experienced ones managing to hold their ground.
If not for Master Dao Xuan’s intervention, the consequences would have been unimaginable. Zhang Xiaofan, pale and unsteady, fell to the side, while Lin Jingyu, seeing this, reached out to catch him, only to stumble himself.
Zhang Xiaofan, panicking, released his grip on the “Firestick” in his robes, desperately seeking something to steady himself, unaware that the cold sensation left his hand as soon as he let go.
In the air, Master Dao Xuan stood solemnly, prepared for battle. Behind him, several more figures appeared, led by Master Cang Song, the six other patriarchs, and their respective elders, including Tian Yibei and Su Ru. All wore grave expressions.
Despite the presence of the Conclave’s elite, the Water Kirin showed no fear. However, its eyes, once filled with rage, now bore a puzzled expression, and the water column slowly diminished, eventually losing control and splashing to the ground.
The Water Kirin, now seeming less menacing, ignored the elders and focused on the young disciples, sniffing the air curiously. After a while, it shook its head and lumbered to another spot, lying down and closing its eyes, soon snoring.
The disciples, dumbfounded, looked at each other. Master Cang Song, regaining his composure, whispered to Master Dao Xuan, “Master, we should not keep the disciples here longer.”
Master Dao Xuan nodded, “You take the disciples up. I will see what has upset the Noble Spirit.” He then flew toward the Water Kirin.
Master Cang Song turned to the disciples, “It was merely a jest from the Noble Spirit. Proceed to the Jade Purity Hall in order.”
The disciples, though shaken, followed the instructions, walking up the steps. Zhang Xiaofan and Lin Jingyu, following the group, entered the grand hall, where memories flooded back to Zhang Xiaofan.
“Jingyu,” Zhang Xiaofan whispered.
“Yes?” Lin Jingyu responded.
Zhang Xiaofan, his voice low, said, “I just remembered something. Have you seen Uncle Wang Er in the past few years?”
Lin Jingyu’s face darkened, “No, this is my first time back on the Heavenly Reaching Peak. I asked Senior Brother Qi Hao about Uncle Wang Er three years ago. He said Uncle Wang Er was still wandering around, but the senior disciples are taking care of him.”
Zhang Xiaofan, after a moment of silence, said, “After the trials, I want to visit him. Will you come with me?”
Lin Jingyu nodded, “Of course, I want to see him too.”
Just then, a green shadow flickered as Master Dao Xuan entered the hall. The elders’ gazes turned to him, and Master Cang Song approached, “Master, the Noble Spirit…”
Master Dao Xuan raised a hand, signaling for silence, which Master Cang Song understood and obeyed.
Master Dao Xuan then turned to the disciples, “Are all here? Excellent.”
The disciples bowed, “Greetings, Master.”
Master Dao Xuan smiled and walked back to his seat, glancing at Master Cang Song, who stepped forward, “You are the finest of the Azure Ethereal Conclave. Our lineage, founded over two millennia ago, is the orthodox path of Daoism and the leader of righteousness. But as the ancients say, ‘Diligence leads to prosperity, while frivolity leads to decline.’ And, ‘One must move forward in adversity, or risk falling behind.'”
The disciples gasped at the mention of the 20th Seven Peaks Trial, spanning over a millennium.
Master Cang Song, pleased with their reaction, continued, “Today, under Master Dao Xuan’s leadership, our Conclave thrives, with many outstanding young talents. Therefore, the number of participants has been increased to sixty-four, to avoid overlooking any potential stars.”
Zhang Xiaofan glanced at Tian Yibei, who sat expressionless, clearly displeased. After all, increasing the number of participants was a decision made by Master Dao Xuan and Master Cang Song.
Master Cang Song explained the new rules, pointing to a large redwood box, “Inside, there are sixty-three wax pills, each containing a slip with a number from one to sixty-three. The drawing will pair the numbers, with one against sixty-four, two against sixty-three, and so on. The second round will pair the winners, and so forth, until the final battle. Understood?”
A commotion arose, and Master Cang Song clarified, “Since one peak has sent only eight disciples, one number is missing. The one who draws number one will be lucky, as they will have a bye in the first round.”
The disciples, despite the unusual method, accepted it, and Master Dao Xuan stood, “Let the drawing begin!”
The disciples, starting with the Longshou Peak, drew their pills, followed by the Dazhu Peak. When it was the Xiaozhu Peak’s turn, the young woman beside Master Shui Yue, who Zhang Xiaofan recognized as the esteemed master of the Xiaozhu Peak, joined the others, drawing the last nine pills.
The disciples, examining their numbers, found no one had drawn number one. Master Cang Song called out, “Who has number one?”
A small, hesitant voice replied, “Re-Replying to Master Cang Song, I-I have it.”
All eyes turned to Zhang Xiaofan, who stood, holding the slip, his eyes nervously glancing at Tian Yibei.
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