Across the boundless Mortal Realm lay five great regions: Wind God Continent, Desolate Moon Continent, Lost Continent, Verdant Continent, and Northern Ice Continent. Each region was vast and limitless; few people could leave the continent where they had spent their entire lives.
One reason was that every regional continent was unimaginably immense. Furthermore, neighboring continents were separated by hundreds of millions of miles of unknown perilous lands, which was also why the continents could not invade one another.
These unknown perilous lands were either lifeless barren wastes, endless primeval forests choked with miasma, blazing deserts whose heat could ignite all things, or vast snowfields where bitter cold froze everything for thousands of miles.
Second- and third-tier ferocious beasts were too numerous to count within these dangerous lands, and there was no shortage of high-tier fourth-tier ancient beasts dwelling deep inside. Crossing between two regional continents was no different from a fool's dream.
Yet nothing in this world was absolute. There was one kind of person who still had hope of crossing a regional continent: immortals cultivators. However, only the most elite among them could do so.
Upon reaching the Nascent Soul Realm, cultivators possessed immense divine abilities capable of moving rivers and filling seas. Even so, they had no absolute certainty of success. The perilous lands between continents were simply too vast, with unknown dangers rising one after another. Fourth-tier ancient beasts were equal to human Nascent Soul cultivators—how many could one person possibly withstand?
On the Desolate Moon Continent, mighty figures from the Immortal-Spirit Realm had shattered the void and arrived since the ancient primordial era, putting down roots and spreading their branches here one after another. Over hundreds of millions of years, sects great and small had risen everywhere. Some gradually grew strong, while others slowly vanished into the long river of history. The great ate the small, the strong swallowed the weak; they rose and fell, flourished and declined.
Across the Desolate Moon Continent, there were thousands upon thousands of sects of every size. Broadly speaking, they could be divided into unranked sects, third-rate sects, second-rate sects, and first-rate sects.
Among unranked and third-rate sects, the larger ones might have several hundred members, while the smaller ones had only two or three stray cats and dogs. Their highest cultivation was no more than one or two, perhaps three Foundation Establishment cultivators; some sects were even composed entirely of Qi Condensation cultivators.
Second-rate sects often had thousands, even several thousand cultivators. They possessed several or more than ten high-level Gold Core cultivators, and their disciples were often the ones most commonly seen traveling the world. They formed the main middle force of the cultivation world.
On this continent, there were only four first-rate sects. They divided the continent into four great domains and jointly held the fate of this land in their hands. Whether it was the founding and succession of mortal dynasties, the division of cultivation resources, or the classification of sect ranks, all of it was governed by these four sects.
They were the Grand Profound Sect, Pure Land Sect, Ten-Step Academy, and Phantom Sect.
The Grand Profound Sect worshipped the Daoist Three Pure Ones, the Pure Land Sect transformed into Buddhist Arhats, Ten-Step Academy sent flying swords a thousand miles, and the Phantom Sect excelled at driving poison and controlling insects, open strikes and covert assassinations.
Each of the four great sects was guarded by several Nascent Soul old monsters who had cultivated for over a thousand years. They had dozens of high-level Gold Core cultivators, their combat strength was terrifying beyond measure, and their Foundation Establishment and Qi Condensation disciples numbered in the thousands upon thousands.
The foundations of their sects ran unfathomably deep.
Yet these great sects were seldom seen walking the mortal world. Perhaps only when a rare treasure was born or a heavenly calamity descended would they swarm forth. At ordinary times, they either shut their gates and devoted themselves to cultivation, or explored unknown dangerous lands in search of fortuitous opportunities, pursuing the path of immortality.
In the west-central region of the Desolate Moon Continent, rolling mountains were covered layer upon layer in dense vegetation. Towering ancient trees grew lushly toward the heavens, their crowns blotting out the sky and sun.
They overlapped in endless layers, stretching without limit.
The Phantom Sect, one of the four great sects, was located here. It consisted of five peaks arranged in the shape of the character "mountain." Four peaks stood in parallel on either side, two on each side, while the final peak stood behind them at the center.
The buildings atop each peak mostly faced south with their backs to the north.
Every peak covered an enormous area and towered into the clouds. The two parallel western peaks were called Small Bamboo Peak and Buli Peak; the two parallel eastern peaks were Four Symbols Peak and Spirit Insect Peak; the central peak set farther back was named Laojun Peak.
At this moment, immortal cranes and spirit birds circled and danced from time to time above Laojun Peak. Jade towers, carved railings, pavilions, terraces, flowing water, and swirling clouds of mist filled the place.
Winding paths threaded through it all, leading toward places shrouded in clouds and fog.
Inside a vast palace atop Laojun Peak, more than a dozen people stood in two rows, conversing.
At the head of the hall sat a man in the center of the palace. He stood roughly seven feet tall, with long brows, broad eyes, a fair and solemn face, and occasional flashes of sharp light in his gaze. He looked around fifty and wore Daoist robes. His black hair was bound into a coiled topknot secured by a jade hairpin, while a whisk rested diagonally across one arm.
Below him, more than ten people sat in two rows. Some were tall, some short; some fat, some thin; some ugly, some handsome; some male, some female. All wore dark-green robes, though closer inspection revealed different golden patterns embroidered on their cuffs.
"Then let this five-year competition be settled thus. This afternoon, distribute all the rewards for the top ten together." The elderly Daoist at the head of the hall flicked his wide sleeve, picked up the whisk hanging from his other arm, lightly waved it, and spoke.
As he waved, a golden cauldron-shaped pattern could be seen embroidered on his cuff. Yet the cauldron was formed like a ferocious beast's maw raised toward the sky, making it seem utterly mismatched with his Daoist appearance.
"Yes, Sect Master," the people in the two rows below answered in unison.
"Of the top ten this time, Junior Brother Wei's Small Bamboo Peak only had four participants, yet two of them won places. Compared with our disciples, who enter by the dozens or even hundreds, that truly puts us to shame."
At that moment, a Confucian scholar in his thirties with three long strands of beard smiled and spoke to someone seated opposite him. His face was white as jade, his eyes narrow and long, and he wore a scholar's cap. A golden snake-like creature was embroidered on his cuff, its open maw exposing fangs. As his sleeve shifted, it seemed like a living thing slithering about, its fangs opening and closing. This was the green-robed scholar who had previously issued the order to capture Strategist Ji.
The person he looked toward sat lower down across from him. He was a little over seven feet tall and somewhat plump, with a scholar's headscarf. Beneath thick brows were a pair of pure, bright eyes; his lips were thick, and he had no beard. He appeared to be twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, carrying an air of simple gentleness. A section of golden bamboo was embroidered on his cuff, and his round face wore a smile as he looked at the scholar.
After the scholar spoke, several others nodded in agreement.
A beautiful woman around forty laughed charmingly. "Senior Brother Feng is right. Little Junior Brother is always like this. How is this servant supposed to discipline all those disciples?"
As she spoke and moved, her beautiful eyes shifted like ripples on water, every gesture brimming with countless charms. Her dark-green robe did not seem loose on her at all; instead, it only accentuated her curvaceous figure. As she spoke, her full body swayed lightly, and flashes of smooth, fair radiance occasionally showed at her collar, scattering mature allure in every direction.
Quite a few people present hurriedly lowered their heads or turned away, silently cursing, You dead enchantress, just speak if you want to speak. Why are you casting seduction arts?
The solemn old Daoist at the head of the hall was also somewhat embarrassed. His junior sister never cared about the occasion; the moment she opened her mouth, she had to ensnare people's souls.
"I say, Junior Brother Wei, you simply toss both hands aside and idle away each day. You might as well open your doors and take in disciples freely. Meanwhile, each of our peaks has several thousand people to manage." Another man spoke. He was dark, burly, and had a golden compass embroidered on his cuff.
"Junior Brother Wei, if everyone acted as you do, would our Phantom Sect not be left with only two or three stray cats and dogs after another thousand years?" A woman of ordinary appearance, whose brows and eyes seemed frozen in unmelting ice, spoke with a gloomy expression. Two slender insects tightly embracing one another were embroidered on her cuff, an exceptionally strange sight.
Watching the people below verbally attack the plump young man, the solemn old Daoist at the head of the hall half-closed his eyes. Junior Brother Wei, every time after a major competition or minor contest, this happens. Can't you take the initiative and shoulder the sect's responsibilities? Among all the brothers, you alone are the most carefree, asking about nothing and doing nothing, while the rest of us are worked half to death. You have a share in this sect too. Thinking this, he could not help sighing inwardly.
Amid the discussion, some spoke while others either stroked their beards and smiled or remained silent with narrowed eyes. Though Junior Brother Wei was being criticized, he did not grow angry. When everyone had gradually finished, he finally smiled and said, "Hehe, Senior Brothers and Elders, it has already been more than two hundred years since I formed my core, yet you still refuse to let me go. I entered the sect last, and no matter what, this lazy nature of mine simply cannot become diligent. Master assigned Small Bamboo Peak to me back then. I refused to take it, but his old self insisted on pressing it onto my head."
"At first, I also took in disciples widely just like the other four peaks. But in the end, did they not all go to your four peaks? Only a few remained. I truly do not know how to manage them." As he spoke, he spread both hands.
"Didn't the sect send elders to help you manage it? In the end, even those elders no longer wished to go. At the very least, you should have asked after the elders assigned there. Yet you simply shut yourself in seclusion with your wife for ten or twenty years at a time, asking about nothing. The elders need to cultivate too. Every one of them needs plans and arrangements for their work, but you ask about none of it."
"Hehe, haven't I handed Small Bamboo Peak's affairs to my chief disciple now? Things like major competitions and ranking contests require selecting participants from hundreds or thousands of people. Just thinking about that crowd gives me a headache." Junior Brother Wei wore an unwilling expression.
He paused, his face turning solemn. "By the way, Senior Brother Feng, I heard yesterday that the Law Enforcement Hall of Spirit Insect Peak brought someone back. Is it truly the Fragmented Poison Body? This is no trivial matter."
The scholar with the golden snake embroidered on his cuff immediately looked displeased. This involved something his peak did not wish to mention. For the past few years, it had been like a fishbone stuck in their throats. Though that traitor was dead, they had lost no small amount of face. Since the sect's founding, this was the first time its original cultivation manual had been stolen.
Hearing this, the solemn old Daoist sighed inwardly. Junior Brother Wei has changed the subject again. Nothing can be done about that lazy temperament of his. Still, upon hearing of this matter, he turned to look at the scholar.
"Junior Brother Feng, yesterday, due to the major competition, and because I heard the boy brought back was barely alive and needed treatment, I did not press the matter. Is this true?"
Seeing that the Sect Master had begun asking about something else, the others knew that Junior Brother Wei's matter would once again end without result. They smiled and shook their heads. Their previous remarks had merely been idle chatter. It had already been more than two hundred years; if Small Bamboo Peak were going to change, it would have changed long ago. They had only wanted to criticize their lazy yet mild-tempered junior brother. Of course, the elders nearby were happy to watch the senior brothers make a fuss. Even cultivators occasionally needed to joke around like mortals.
They all looked toward the scholar surnamed Feng. His long, slender fingers tapped several times against the armrest of his chair, as though organizing his thoughts.
"It has been twenty years since Lianshan defected from the peak. We have continuously sent people out to hunt him down. Until last year, we finally obtained his trail. After fleeing the peak, he must have sought opportunities and entered the cave residence of a Gold Core cultivator who had died long ago. But Lianshan was doomed to have no fate with it. He was wounded by the grand formation guarding the cave and fled out, only to perish outside it."
"His Storage Pouch was also shattered by the attack, and the items within were destroyed and scattered. However, we found not even a fragment of this sect's cultivation jade slip or books. Thus, we judged that the manual had not been destroyed and might have fallen into someone else's hands."
"If it had been damaged and destroyed, this matter would have ended there. After all, what we wanted was that man's life and the whereabouts of the original manual."
"Later, after investigating around that cave residence, we learned from several Rogue Cultivators that the manual might have been acquired by someone from the Immortal-Seeking Lineage. I believe everyone knows what kind of people the Immortal-Seeking Lineage are. They spend their entire lives pursuing the path to immortality, and no matter what sect's immortal arts they obtain, they dare to cultivate them."
"So the Law Enforcement Hall began with the medicinal ingredients required to enter the cultivation method. In the end, they traced it to an imperial dynasty a million miles away. There, they found that a strategist in a border army might have cultivated the manual, and he had already reached roughly the peak of the third layer of the Qi Condensation Realm."
"Because this involved certain rules between us and mortals, the Law Enforcement Hall had to proceed with caution. After investigation, that man had indeed purchased some of the related medicinal ingredients required for entry. Moreover, he had only appeared there six or seven years ago. Combined with certain features of his appearance and fighting methods, we can infer that he was the person from the Immortal-Seeking Lineage who obtained the manual."
"Judging from his usual outward signs, he forced himself to cultivate it. That was likely because he lacked sufficient medicinal ingredients."
"The reason he returned to the army could also be inferred from his taking disciples there. He somehow obtained the Spirit-Absorbing Art and perhaps foolishly imagined that he could use it to remove the fire poison within his body. But his spiritual power was meager—how could he possibly find suitable candidates? Thus, he searched for people with spirit roots in the army."
"But that man's luck was truly heaven-defying. One after another, he actually found two mortals with spirit roots, both possessing the wood attribute."
At this point, he could not help sighing. "When we take disciples from among mortals, finding even one person with spirit roots requires considerable effort. Yet he found them one after another by himself. He truly had extraordinary fortune."
The others all nodded upon hearing this.