When the Conical-Hat Man spoke, Chen Lin's heart stirred.
He immediately cupped his hands. "I am Chen Lin. I merely stumbled into this place. May I ask your name, and what this place is?"
"First, tell me how you obtained your medal."
The Conical-Hat Man's dry, hoarse voice sounded again, doubt showing on his gaunt face.
Chen Lin's thoughts raced.
Rather than tell the truth, he gave a vague reply. "A chance encounter, nothing more."
"A chance encounter?"
The Conical-Hat Man scoffed.
"A medal isn't something you can obtain through chance. And with your status, you shouldn't have been able to obtain one at all. It seems something has gone wrong with this place."
"What is this place?"
Chen Lin pressed again.
But the Conical-Hat Man did not answer.
He scrutinized Chen Lin for a moment, then said evenly, "Whatever means you used to obtain the medal, the fact that you can wear it proves you are qualified. You need not take the remaining tests below. You may proceed directly to the Inheritance Ground."
He paused.
A hint of emotion entered his voice.
"The Sea-Suppressing Sword Formula is a supreme art. Your ability to comprehend it proves you have an affinity with it. Accept its inheritance, then. Do not disgrace it..."
Before his words had faded.
Chen Lin felt the scenery before him shatter piece by piece. His vision blurred, and he found himself in a small, hazy space.
There was nothing around him, nor did he sense any danger.
Before he could examine it further.
An inexplicable force abruptly enveloped him, and he entered a mysterious state, as though he had become an obstinate sword cultivator, endlessly swinging his sword amid towering waves.
Day after day, without end or respite.
He had no idea how much time passed.
Then,