On the thirteenth day of the internal competition at the Falling Cloud Sect, the final round of selection was nearing its conclusion.
At this moment, in a pavilion halfway up the main peak, seven or eight Core Formation cultivators had gathered to discuss something. Among them were the two peak masters of Tianquan Peak—a middle-aged man surnamed Xin and a grim-looking elder in gray robes—while the others also appeared to be formidable figures.
“None of you junior brothers are willing to take the lead in this mission?” asked a blue-robed elder with a flowing white beard and deeply wrinkled face, his brows slightly furrowed.
“Hmph! Senior Brother Feng, the Sword Trial Assembly may be a joint competition among the three sects, but every time, our two sects return in defeat while the Ancient Sword Sect basks in glory. And this time, their leader will undoubtedly be that sharp-tongued Jiang Yun again. I have no interest in suffering his insults for no reason,” replied a seemingly lazy middle-aged man with a thin mustache, his tone indifferent.
“Exactly! I’ve also heard that the Ancient Sword Sect recently recruited a disciple with the Nine Spirit Sword Body. They’ll surely send him to the assembly this time. With that, what’s the point of even competing? Although we have some disciples with special physiques, they pale in comparison. Moreover, the Hundred Artifices Academy has reportedly taken in a direct descendant of the Shangguan family—someone who, even at the Qi Refining stage, defeated his own elders with self-forged artifacts. He’ll be no easy opponent either!” added a sallow-faced elder, shaking his head.
The white-bearded elder’s expression darkened with displeasure.
“Junior brothers, while what you say is true—that the Sword Trial Assembly has become a show of force by the Ancient Sword Sect—we must acknowledge their superior strength. If our sect doesn’t send disciples, we won’t even secure a quarter of the Spirit Nectar. Moreover, refusing to participate might provoke hostility from the Ancient Sword Sect, which would harm our long-term interests in the Yunmeng Mountains. After all, there are many sects eyeing our territory. We can’t afford to give them an opening,” the white-bearded elder said gravely.
“Since Senior Brother Feng puts it that way, I’ll volunteer as the leader. It’s been a while since I last met with Elder Chang Zheng of the Hundred Artifices Academy. A chat wouldn’t hurt,” suddenly offered a square-faced, dignified elder in red robes, seated across from the white-bearded elder.
“Junior Brother Duan, as the master of Blazing Cloud Peak with many disciples under you, your absence might be inconvenient,” the white-bearded Feng hesitated.
“No matter. Junior Brother Li can manage Blazing Cloud Peak in my stead. Besides, it’s just a day’s journey from the eastern to the western range—hardly a major absence,” the red-robed elder replied nonchalantly.
Seeing his resolve, the white-bearded elder nodded in agreement. His gaze then swept over the others before settling on the grim-faced elder in gray robes.
“Junior Brother Yu, I know you seldom involve yourself in Tianquan Peak’s affairs. How about assisting Junior Brother Duan this time? Junior Brother Xin, you have no objections, do you?” The last question was directed at the middle-aged man surnamed Xin.
“None at all, as long as Junior Brother Yu is willing,” Xin replied with a faint smile.
The gray-robed elder’s icy expression flickered briefly before he uttered a single word: “Fine.”
Pleased, the white-bearded elder nodded. “Then Junior Brother Duan will lead, with Junior Brother Yu and Junior Sister Song of White Phoenix Peak assisting. Once today’s final round concludes, gather the thirty selected disciples and provide them some guidance. Who knows? This time, we might stand a chance. A few of our candidates are quite strong—perhaps capable of rivaling the Ancient Sword Sect and Hundred Artifices Academy.”
“Junior Sister Song is joining too? Why wasn’t I informed? If that’s the case, I’ll go in Junior Brother Yu’s place!” exclaimed a slick-faced cultivator who had been lurking in a corner, his tone astonished. The others in the pavilion stirred, a few even showing regret.
“Hmph! Junior Brother Meng, what’s the meaning of this? You remained silent earlier, yet now you leap at the mention of Junior Sister Song. Let me be clear—her condition for leading was that I not disclose her participation beforehand. Otherwise, given her temperament, she’d never leave White Phoenix Peak so readily,” the white-bearded elder said sternly.
Given the elder’s late Core Formation cultivation—far surpassing the slick-faced cultivator’s early-stage strength—the latter immediately fell silent, not daring to argue further. The others exchanged glances but held their tongues.
Just then, footsteps approached from outside, followed by a male voice: “Reporting to Master and esteemed uncles—the final round has concluded. Three Foundation Establishment disciples and twenty-one Qi Refining cultivators have been selected. I’ve brought the list.”
“Good. Bring it in and let your uncles review it,” the white-bearded elder said, his expression softening.
“As you command!” The man outside bowed before entering—a tall, dignified-looking man in his thirties at the late Foundation Establishment stage.
“Here are the names and details of the twenty-four finalists,” the man said, producing a white jade slip and presenting it respectfully.
“Let me see first.” The elder took the slip and scanned it with his spiritual sense.
“Oh?” After just a glance, surprise flickered across his face.
“What is it? Is there an issue with the list?” the red-robed elder asked curiously.
The others also turned questioning gazes toward the white-bearded elder.
“Nothing major. Junior brothers, take a look.” With that, he calmly passed the slip to the sallow-faced elder beside him.
The latter’s expression also shifted upon reading it, but he said nothing and handed it to the next person. Soon, everyone had reviewed the slip, their faces a mix of emotions.
When the middle-aged Xin of Tianquan Peak saw it, his eyes repeatedly flashed with astonishment.
“Truly unexpected—Tianquan Peak alone has six selections, putting the rest of us to shame. It seems Senior Brother Xin has trained his disciples well,” the mustached man remarked with a sigh.
“Indeed! Senior Brother Xin must be determined to win this Sword Trial Assembly, hence such meticulous preparation,” the slick-faced cultivator added sourly. His Hidden Sword Peak had only three selections—a humiliating result.
“Not at all. I’m as surprised as anyone by Tianquan Peak’s performance. But while the others are understandable, how did two Qi Refining tenth-layer disciples make the cut? Han Li and Du Dong—if I recall correctly, they only joined the sect a year ago. How did they advance so far? Nephew Gao, how did these two win?” Xin asked calmly.
The newly arrived male cultivator promptly replied, “Their methods were straightforward. Disciple Du Dong wielded an immensely powerful ice-attribute top-grade artifact—a wheel-like weapon about a foot in diameter, engraved with crescent patterns. When activated, it emits a radiant white light, instantly forming an ice barrier or releasing avian-shaped bursts of frigid energy. None of his opponents lasted a single exchange before being frozen solid.”
“Oh? Describe this artifact in detail,” the mustached man interjected with keen interest.
It resembles a wheel, emitting a piercing white light when activated. It can instantly summon an ice barrier or unleash frost-formed attacks resembling giant birds.
“That sounds like the ‘Frostmoon Wheel,’ the treasured artifact of the annihilated Du Clan two centuries ago. Could this Du Dong be a survivor?” the mustached man mused.
“Quite possible. The Du Clan was once a prominent family. Some descendants may have escaped and gone into hiding. Perhaps they believe enough time has passed for safety and now seek to reemerge,” the white-bearded elder remarked, stroking his beard thoughtfully.
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