Chapter 744: The Supreme Dao Hall

Is the Celestial Immortal Academy really that famous?

The academy is indeed powerful, with remnants of celestial teachings, but to claim it overlooks the three thousand provinces and stands as the supreme orthodoxy of the upper realm—Shi Hao was skeptical. It felt like an overstatement.

With a hundred schools contending and countless sects vying for dominance, who dares claim absolute supremacy as the highest in the world?

“Would you be willing to join our sect and fight for it?” the elder asked with authority, wisps of chaotic energy cascading from his head as his true form seemed to strain against the heavens, like a sovereign deity gazing down upon all living beings.

Shi Hao hesitated, then steeled himself and said, “I am willing.”

For the sake of the Divine Calamity Lotus, he temporarily cast aside other concerns—such as integrity—figuring he could deal with the consequences later. If he ever left, he could always make amends and report back to the Celestial Immortal Academy.

The elder nodded, his demeanor solemn and imposing, exuding an air of unrivaled dominance. “Remember, you are now a disciple of my Dao Field. If you cannot one day stand supreme over the world, you will be cast out.”

Shi Hao inwardly scoffed. That was an absurdly high demand. Did the Celestial Immortal Academy really have such confidence? How could every disciple it produced possibly rule the world?

At the same time, he grew suspicious. Why did the elder keep referring to it as the “Dao Field” instead of the Celestial Immortal Academy?

“Senior, is this the core of the Celestial Immortal Academy?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“Not the core—it transcends it,” the elder replied with utmost seriousness, his divine aura unwavering.

Shi Hao was stunned. Was there a place more important than the academy’s center? The elder’s status must be extraordinary—either the academy’s headmaster, a guardian, or perhaps even its sacred spirit!

“Very well. Once you step through this gate, there is no turning back. This is your last chance to reconsider.”

Though the elder spoke calmly and imposingly, Shi Hao felt a twinge of unease. The man seemed cunning—was he some kind of sly old fox?

“Have you made your decision?” the elder asked plainly.

“Senior, when can I go pick the Divine Calamity Lotus?” Shi Hao whispered. That was his primary goal in coming here—he couldn’t afford to be tricked. He was bargaining.

“What’s so great about the Divine Calamity Lotus? Compared to other treasures, it’s practically pig feed. Don’t dwell on it,” the elder said dismissively.

“What?” Shi Hao’s eyes widened. The old man was talking nonsense! Even Heavenly Gods would fight to the death for it.

“Ahem, I digress.” The elder coughed lightly. “Just know that our sect once possessed the supreme spiritual root of the upper realm. That should suffice.”

Shi Hao was baffled. The Celestial Immortal Academy had once held the supreme spiritual root? He recalled a legendary herb he had once seen in the lower realm, guarded by countless formations in a valley beyond the Medicine Capital.

The Little Pagoda had sighed, calling it the most sacred herb, saying that only the depths of the untamed forbidden lands could hold something comparable.

Could it be that very herb? Legends said it had been planted there by an upper-realm being. During the great calamity, several mighty figures had fought over it.

“Has it been lost now?” Shi Hao muttered, sensing the implication in the elder’s words.

“We will reclaim it in time!” The elder’s gaze turned profound as he stared into the distant heavens, his aura sharp with killing intent.

“Then… let’s talk about the Divine Calamity Lotus,” Shi Hao mumbled, his voice barely audible, his heart uneasy.

“So eager to bathe with a few girls? Pathetic!” The elder smirked, scolding him.

“Fair ladies are what gentlemen seek!” Shi Hao retorted stubbornly.

“I’m having second thoughts. My reputation is at stake—what if I end up teaching a lecher?” the elder mused.

“Senior, rest assured! One day, I will bring glory to our sect!” Shi Hao declared with utmost sincerity, his voice firm.

Before the grand mountain gate, the elder nodded, his golden Daoist robes fluttering, making him appear even more transcendent. Flecks of radiant light drifted around him, as if he were on the verge of ascending.

“The Divine Calamity Lotus isn’t bad. Don’t worry, you’ll have access to that treasure pool often enough.” He urged Shi Hao to step through the gate.

“Very well. Since you insist, I shall obey.” Shi Hao followed him past the majestic gate and into the unknown.

“Now, swear your oath,” the elder said gravely.

An oath? What kind of binding power could it have? Shi Hao scoffed inwardly, unimpressed.

“Repeat after me!” the elder commanded.

After reciting a short but severe vow, the elder had Shi Hao spill a drop of his essence blood onto the script, igniting it.

“What is this?” Shi Hao asked, confused.

“A curse. Betray the sect, and you will suffer divine retribution—eternal torment until death,” the elder said casually.

“What?! That’s ruthless!” Shi Hao was stunned. Had he just boarded a pirate ship?

“Thinking of betraying us already?” The elder chuckled. “The curse is quite potent, you know.”

Shi Hao gaped at him, realizing he might have been too hasty. The elder seemed benevolent, but something felt off.

“Now that you’ve joined, abide by your oath,” the elder said.

“Senior, what should I call you?” Shi Hao asked.

“Qi Daolin,” the elder replied with a smile. “Heard of me?”

Shi Hao awkwardly admitted he hadn’t, but lied, “Your reputation precedes you, Senior.”

The elder raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Clearly, he knew Shi Hao was bluffing.

Strangely, Shi Hao sensed relief in the elder’s demeanor. Was it his imagination? Did this elder—possibly the academy’s headmaster or sacred spirit—have secrets to hide?

Beyond the grand gate lay not grand palaces but an endless expanse of mountains and mist, vast and untamed.

“Is this the academy’s Dao Field? How big is it?” Shi Hao asked.

Qi Daolin smiled. “As vast as your heart is vast, so too is our Dao Field.”

“I have the ambition to swallow mountains and rivers!” Shi Hao declared.

“Then the Dao Field is boundless. Come, I’ll show you.” With a sweep of his sleeve, Qi Daolin carried Shi Hao through the skies.

Beneath them, mountains and lakes blurred past as they traversed countless miles in moments.

Even Shi Hao, strong as he was, felt his ears ringing and eyes stinging from the speed. The wind cut like blades, threatening to set his robes aflame.

“Senior, where are we? This can’t be the academy—even if it were ten thousand times larger, it couldn’t hold all this land!” Shi Hao grew suspicious.

Then he gaped—they were passing cities and settlements. This was no Dao Field!

“Didn’t I say? The Dao Field is as vast as your heart,” Qi Daolin said amiably.

Shi Hao’s face darkened. “So the Dao Field is just… a gate?”

“Correct.” The elder nodded. “Beyond it lies the entire world. That is our Dao Field. Other sects confine themselves to tiny plots—how could that suit our supreme orthodoxy? Remember its name: the Supreme Dao Field. If you’re strong enough, the three thousand provinces are your backyard.”

Shi Hao was speechless. Was this for real?

Yet Qi Daolin spoke with absolute seriousness, his bearing grand as if commanding the heavens.

“Then, Senior, where do we settle? If the three thousand provinces are our backyard, shall we visit the Immortal Palace or an imperial clan?” Shi Hao asked sarcastically.

“The Immortal Palace? That dump will one day be a latrine,” Qi Daolin said coldly, his eyes flashing with intensity.

With a flicker, they returned to the mountain gate. The elder pointed, and a peak lit up, revealing a grand hall like a celestial palace.

“Is this still part of the Celestial Immortal Academy, or not?” Shi Hao whispered.

“Forget the academy. From now on, you are a disciple of the Supreme Dao Field,” Qi Daolin said.

“Why?” Shi Hao was baffled. What kind of headmaster or sacred spirit wouldn’t acknowledge their own sect?

“The Supreme Dao Field transcends the academy. This is your root—remember that,” Qi Daolin said sternly.

Shi Hao was stunned. Something felt very wrong.

“Are we the only two here?” he asked.

“Do you think just anyone can join the Supreme Dao Field? Only one disciple per generation. Until you’re cast out, there will be no other!”

Shi Hao’s suspicion deepened. Had he been tricked?

He nearly choked. He was usually the one scheming—had he just been swindled?

A single disciple per generation… wasn’t that like the Supreme Hall?

“Ask me anything about cultivation—though not specific techniques. The true invincible Dao will be taught in two days,” Qi Daolin said.

“Invincible Dao?” Shi Hao’s heart raced. Could it be the “Transcendent Chapter” of the Primordial True Explanation?

“A technique to sweep through the three thousand provinces—that is invincibility,” Qi Daolin declared proudly.

Shi Hao pondered, recalling the nine dragon bones and the ancient bronze coffin. “Senior, do reincarnated beings exist in this world?”