Chapter 022 - Survive Until my Brother Returns! (1)
The next day dawned in the blink of an eye, unveiling the heart of the Azure Spirit Mountains where a peak shaped like a colossal cauldron stood proudly, bearing the name Conclave Mountain.
This mountain was devoid of flora, its rocky surface a warm, earthy hue. Its summit boasted a vast, flat terrain that housed hundreds of sword dueling platforms, each marked by scars of innumerable sword fights. Throughout the centuries, countless Sword Cultivators from the Azure Spirit Sword Sect had gathered here to challenge one another, their clashes often determining not just victory or defeat, but life or death.
As morning broke, the world awoke to the golden embrace of the rising sun. The tranquil morning was suddenly shattered by a resounding boom. A massive stone of azure, crimson, white, and dark green hues streaked across the sky like a beacon, its vibrant luminescence outshining the morning sun. With a deafening crash, it landed squarely on the Conclave Mountain, sending tremors that shook the vegetation in the surrounding mountains and sent the wildlife scattering in all directions.
The stone settled firmly onto the ground, its brilliance intensifying. It seemed to be constructed from four differently shaped rocks merged into one, with a hollow center that emitted a dense fog of intertwining colors. Within this swirling fog, ethereal figures of an Azure Dragon, Black Tortoise, Vermillion Bird, and White Tiger emerged, their roars and cries resonating through the very foundations of the mountain.
"The Rank Four Sword Inheritance Stone!" The elders and disciples helping prepare for the Eight Swords Conclave cried out in amazement.
Adjacent to this majestic stone, a high platform was divided into eight sections, each adorned with luxurious seats of honor, now occupied by the esteemed figures of the Azure Spirit Sword Sect. Undoubtedly, the star of today's event was the First Sword Venerable, Ye Tiance, a man who seemed to carry an aura of ruthlessness, with his hawk-like nose and sharp eyebrows. Even Wu Wu, the formidable Third Sword Venerable, seemed to diminish in his presence, a testimony to who held the reins of power within the sect.
Despite Ye Tiance's daunting presence, he exhibited reverence towards an elder seated at the central position on the platform. This man sat with a formidable grace, golden locks cascading down like a lion descending a hill. Although age had etched lines on his face, it could not conceal the regal authority emanated by him.
"Elder Fan, I thank you once again for gracing Azure Spirit with your presence amidst your busy schedule! "
"Thank you, Elder Fan, for bringing the Rank Four Sword Inheritance Stone!"
Echoes of gratitude resonated, with everyone avoiding direct eye contact with the elder, their hearts filled with immense reverence. This was because Elder Fan hailed from the Sea of Swords a sanctified ground for true Sword Cultivators, a place where most could only dream of reaching.
"Elder Fan, rest assured, it's going to be the Moon grade at the very least," Ye Tiance said solemnly.
"That will suffice," Elder Fan nodded coldly. "I have made this journey to Azure Spirit on Ye Guying's account." The implicit meaning of his words hung heavy in the air—you better not waste my time.
"Ah... Elder Fan, might I inquire on the progress of Guying's retrieval of the Azure Kite?" Ye Tiance couldn't resist leveraging this opportunity to fortify his bond with the revered elder.
A hint of a smile blossomed on Elder Fan's previously stoic face. "About ninety percent, I'd say," he said, his voice carrying a note of admiration. "That youngster possesses a Twin Dantian, enabling him to wield twice the magic power of his peers within the same realm. He is capable of defeating those beyond his level!
"A Sword Cultivator, even with a lower grade Sword Soul, can rely on Sword Aura or even their Sword Rings to compensate. But to possess such a heavenly gift as a Twin Dantian, that is exceedingly rare. With this talent, his future in the vast Sea of Swords is bound to be remarkable!" Elder Fan gave a knowing nod, a twinkle of amusement lighting his eyes. "Ye Tiance, you have guided him well."
With a genuine smile dancing on his lips, Ye Tiance responded, "I am honored by your words, Elder Fan."
"Very well! I look forward to witnessing the prowess of the disciples of the Azure Spirit and seeing miracles unfold before us," Elder Fan declared with a twinkle in his eye that mirrored his grin.
"Congratulations Elder Fan! Congratulations First Sword Venerable!" The exclamations filled the central platform, where not only the revered Elder Fan held the highest seat, but also gathered were numerous distinguished guests from all directions, notable figures in their own right.
Among them was the Chief Steward of the Spirit Treasure Pavilion, Qian Kun, colloquially known as Qian the Plump. There was also the Master of East Arcane Island, Chen Yihai. Additionally, a veiled woman of high status was present, rumored to be a Rogue Cultivator. She was personally invited by Ye Tiance, known as Moon Fairy. Though her true features remained hidden, her ethereal presence and exquisite figure were impossible to ignore.
Besides these three, over a dozen other esteemed guests graced the occasion, all giving Ye Tiance a great amount of respect. With him present, the other Sword Venerables from various peaks merely stood by with nods and obliging smiles, letting him take center stage. Emerging from n0v@lbin☆, this material harbors clandestine details.
"Brother Ye, let's get this started!" Qian Kun exclaimed, his face beaming with anticipation.
"I've heard tales of the burgeoning talents in Azure Spirit, and I've been eager to see for myself..." Chen Yihai trailed off, his smirk carrying an undertone of disdain as he caressed the armrest of his seat, upon which the words Sword Pavilion was etched. An intriguing twist, considering the central platform had always been the domain of the Sword Pavilion, yet now it was reduced to a guest area?
At this moment, Ye Tiance faced forward, his voice booming like thunder rolling across the heavens, "The competition is about to commence, let the Eight Swords make their entrance!" With a resonant clang that echoed like a heavenly bell, the skies responded. Clouds swirled and roiled, filling with the whistles of sword energy sweeping through.
Humming vibrated through the air, as seven formations of Sword Cultivators broke through the clouds from seven different directions. Within the mists, young Sword Cultivators soared, riding upon massive Sword Souls that spanned six feet, traversing the clouds with a majestic splendor that evoked awe.
Each formation comprised one hundred and twenty Sword Cultivators, a spectacle of varying Sword Souls churning different elemental forces—wind, thunder, frost, rain, and snow mingled, shaking the heavens with their display of might.
In the eyes of mere mortals, they were the embodiment of Sword Immortals. All in all, eight hundred and forty individuals took to the sky, a grand display of power that did ample justice to the prestige of the First Sword Venerable.
Zhao Xuanran's clenched fists slowly loosened. "Alright," she whispered, touching her lips and lowering her gaze. Her eyes, once fiery, now looked clouded. Subconsciously, she reached for her waist, searching for the comforting presence of a flask, but today she had no drink. Thinking of drinks made her think of someone.
She glanced back at the crowd and found a young man in white looking directly at her. Their eyes met, and he offered her a warm, calming smile, like a ray of sunshine piercing the gloom. In this chaotic world, even the sacred lands of Azure Spirit faced corruption. Yet, this young man stood out like a pure lotus in the mud, untainted.
Unknown to Zhao Xuanran, members from the First, Third, and Sixth Sword Peaks had also set their sights on this young man in white.
"Is that the greenhorn from the Sword Pavilion?" a disciple whispered.
"I've heard he even forced his way into becoming the Sect Master's Disciple. What a joke! A disciple with just a Low Meteor grade Sword Soul?" another scoffed.
"Whoever faces him later, wipe him out. Got it?"
"Thinking of supporting the teetering edifice of the Sword Pavilion? Better check if you're sturdy enough to withstand a blow!" another laughed mockingly.
"Hahahaha!" The disciples roared in laughter.
"I've heard he snatched the top spot on the Heavenly Path Trial from the peerless immortal genius of the First Sword Peak. It'd be best to personally hand him over to Jiang Yue for execution," a disciple suggested, punctuating the words with a snicker that rang ominously through the still air.
Meanwhile, the atmosphere on the other Sword Peaks—Second, Fourth, Fifth, and Seventh—was relatively more subdued, tinged with a sense of resigned detachment, as if they were shying away from any aspirations or desires.
"The Eight Swords Conclave is starting immediately!"
Upon hearing these words, the hearts of all the disciples attending the Eight Swords Conclave throbbed wildly, a symphony of heightened anticipation and exhilaration. The intense and exciting battle was on the brink of unfolding.
Over at the Sword Pavilion, Grandpa Qin was imparting last-minute words of caution to the eight participating disciples.
"Did you grasp my words? Once you step onto the sword dueling platform, no matter who you face, withdraw immediately," Grandpa Qin informed with gravity that hung heavily in the air. To withdraw was to surrender.
"Yes," Cai Maomao, Qin Tong, and others voiced in unison, though their agreement was tinged with bitterness, the taste of unfulfilled ambition.
"My children..." the elderly man's voice wavered, heavy with the weight of tragedy, "We've lost too many young ones vying for the honor of the Sword Pavilion in the last two Eight Swords Conclaves over these three years. You eight are all that's left. I can't bear to see the elderly outlive the young any longer..."
To participate meant that the Sword Pavilion could sustain its existence for another year. But whether they fought or not, they were destined to finish at the bottom. Was it really worth sacrificing lives for? Surrendering at the outset, at least, presented a chance for survival.
Grandpa Qin turned a stern eye towards Yun Xiao, "Especially you, Yun Xiao. Are you listening?"
Looking at the Rank Four Sword Inheritance Stone, Yun Xiao appeared to be lost in his thoughts.
"Yun Xiao?" Grandpa Qin reiterated, a hint of sternness surfacing in his tone.
"Ah! Yes, yes, I got it," Yun Xiao replied hurriedly, a sudden flare of determination igniting in his eyes. "I'll seize victory on every front."
"What? I told you to surrender the moment you step onto the platform!" Grandpa Qin Qin exclaimed, his eyes widening in disbelief.
"No worries, I'll surrender in every round," Yun Xiao assured confidently.
"Every round?" Cai Maomao chimed in with a sweat-beaded brow, "Junior Brother Yun, you can only surrender once."
"Oh, I see!" Yun Xiao exclaimed, a nod signaling his supposed understanding.
"No, it seems you don't quite grasp the rules?" Cai Maomao remarked, a hint of worry lacing his voice.
"I spent all of yesterday practicing my swordsmanship. I didn't have time to familiarize myself with the rules." Yun Xiao shrugged nonchalantly.
"No need for a deep understanding, just surrender and you'll be fine," Grandpa Qin continued to nag, the worry etched across his face a testimony to the tumultuous times the Sword Pavilion faced.