Chapter Forty-One: The Arrival of the Three Sects

Early the next morning, Zhou Xuanhong sensed something, withdrew from his cultivation, and stepped out of the wooden hut. Soon, a transmission of divine sense sounded in his ear.

“Come to the Martial Arena.”

Zhou Xuanhong smiled faintly, mounted his flying sword, and arrived at the martial grounds. By then, many disciples had already surrounded the arena; only fifty stood at its center, while others lingered among the trees or soared above on their swords.

As Zhou Xuanhong approached, a figure appeared before him—it was Xuan Qizi. Zhou followed behind him, rising to hover at the heart of the dueling platform, his expression solemn, facing the direction of Xingyan Sect’s main gate.

Today, Xuan Qizi stood with hands clasped behind his back, draped in a dark robe. Spiritual power surged and ebbed around him, the sky above clear and auspicious, his smile dignified, as if he were a celestial immortal atop a high mirror under the noonday sun—embodying the very spirit of his sect.

He manifested the sect’s grandeur to perfection. One after another, other elders arrived, each trailed by their own outstanding disciples. Compared to them, Zhou Xuanhong, who was at only the first level of Foundation Establishment and plain in appearance, seemed ordinary and unremarkable. Yet, as a direct disciple, he somewhat lowered the sect’s overall image.

Soon, the Grand Elder Liu Xiang arrived, with Wang Li at his side. The Grand Elder carried himself with great presence, his cultivation having also reached the peak of the Golden Core stage—half a step into Nascent Soul. He shone like two suns in the sky, overshadowing even the sect master; those who understood, understood the implication.

Behind Liu Xiang, Wang Li, though still at the Qi Refinement stage, exuded an aura of invincibility. His features were striking, as if he were a tiger cub—young yet already displaying the bearing of a fierce beast.

In comparison, Zhou Xuanhong seemed all the more lackluster, making the Grand Elder’s party appear even more impressive—so much so that their presence subtly eclipsed Xuan Qizi’s.

Xuan Qizi began to speak: “Today marks an important day for our Xingyan Sect, a turning point in the fate of you fifty. Remember: resources are precious, but you must survive to enjoy them. This mission values not your gains, but your life and death…”

These words were meant to inspire, but for the veterans among the fifty, they were of little use—better to give a healing pill than a speech.

Soon after, a series of muffled footsteps resounded from beyond the sect’s gate, shaking the ground, the buildings trembling, ripples forming on the surface of the water.

“Is it an earthquake?”

“Look over there—a giant!”

“Don’t panic—that’s the Corpse Shade Sect. Remain calm, don’t disgrace our sect.”

Dozens of kilometers away, a giant nearly a thousand meters tall crawled up from the earth, bringing with him a shroud of black mist that turned the clear sky above to dark clouds.

An eerie wind howled, grass and trees withered, life was extinguished. The giant’s arrival heralded death. With every step, the earth within a hundred miles trembled; the townspeople of Chaoxian Town thought it a rare earthquake until they saw the figure in the distant sky and stared wide-eyed in disbelief.

This giant, nearly a thousand meters high, was a sight to behold. His aura swept the forest for miles, making the trees shudder, and each step left deep craters in the ground.

Though imposing, the giant was grotesque, exuding a stench of decay—the very cause of the withering flora.

Atop the giant’s head, Old Ghost Shishan let out a chilling laugh. On his left shoulder, disciples of the Corpse Shade Sect each carried a coffin; their aura was wicked and their stench unbearable, numbering fifty in all.

On the right shoulder, twenty black-robed cultivators hid within the mist, their ghostly presence sending chills through the air—these were the vengeful ghost faction disciples of the Corpse Shade Sect.

“Old Ghost Shishan, not bad—you’ve been rewarded a Nascent Soul-level Spirit Gatherer corpse by the Supreme Yin Corpse Sect. No wonder you’re so brazen at the gates of Xingyan Sect—truly in character!”

A teasing voice rang out. In the distant sky, a streak of green light hurtled closer—a green pill furnace over three hundred meters long, upon which sixty disciples of the Five-Spirit Pill Valley sat cross-legged. At the very front of the furnace, a kindly elder stroked his beard, while Wei Cuiyao stood behind, massaging his shoulders.

The massive pill furnace released rainbow-colored auspicious clouds, merging with the darkness and turning the clouds multicolored, raining down a mist infused with spiritual and medicinal energy. The tainted forest revived beneath its touch.

Old Ghost Shishan cackled, “Friend Wei, worthy of a master of the pill path! Even as the honored elder of Five-Spirit Pill Valley, so advanced in years, you still shoulder heavy burdens. I can only admire you.”

Wei Cangyuan ridiculed Old Ghost Shishan for flaunting the treasures bestowed by the Supreme Yin Corpse Sect—implying he was nothing without borrowed power. Old Ghost Shishan, unable to retort directly, could only allude to Wei Cangyuan’s age, suggesting he should be above such affairs.

After all, the Five-Spirit Pill Valley was a sect specializing in alchemy and even cooperated with the Corpse Shade Sect—best not to fall out.

A sudden, hearty laugh echoed out: “Friend Wei, Friend Shishan, looks like I’m not late!”

A sharp sword intent, like a rainbow piercing the sun, appeared between Pill Valley and Corpse Shade Sect—a giant sword a hundred meters long, its afterimage lingering in the sky.

The arrival of the Songshan Sword Pavilion made both Wei Cangyuan and Old Ghost Shishan wary, though they greeted the newcomers with smiles.

“Friend Daxi, you’re right on time. Come, let’s greet our host together.”

Sword cultivators were known as the most unruly in the cultivation world. They cared little for pills and would rather quarrel than compromise. Thus, Wei Cangyuan treated Daxi, the Golden Core sword cultivator, with extra courtesy.

As for Old Ghost Shishan, he dared not offend the Sword Pavilion—lest he be greeted not with words, but with a lethal sword strike.

In the eyes of sword cultivators, there was no distinction between demonic or righteous paths—all that mattered was whether they could be cut down. No matter how powerful, they would try their sword first.

After all, in a certain era, sword cultivators were the very ancestors of all the unorthodox ways. Ghost cultivators, devil cultivators, spell cultivators, body cultivators, soul cultivators—all could be dealt with by a single stroke.

“The Corpse Shade Sect brings seventy Qi Refinement demonic cultivators, here to participate in the opening of Xingyan Sect’s minor world!”

“The Five-Spirit Pill Valley brings sixty Qi Refinement alchemists, here to participate in the opening of Xingyan Sect’s minor world!”

“The Songshan Sword Pavilion brings twenty Qi Refinement sword cultivators, here to participate in the opening of Xingyan Sect’s minor world!”

Within the protective array of Xingyan Sect, Xuan Qizi spoke a single word: “Enter!”

At his command, powerful sound waves swept out, dispelling the gloom from the hearts of the sect’s disciples and filling them with pride anew.

“What’s there to fear? We’re the masters of Xingyan Sect—they’re only guests.”

“That’s right—once they’re inside, whether they’re dragons or tigers, they’ll have to bow to us!”

“I can’t wait to have a proper fight with them!”

Seeing the disciples’ spirited response, Zhou Xuanhong’s eyes narrowed. Scanning the crowd, he soon spotted the old mountain macaque from the library lurking in a discreet corner.

“Such a wide-reaching innate divine ability—if you claim you’re not at the Golden Core stage, I won’t believe it. Just wait, the secrets of Xingyan Sect will eventually be unraveled by me.”

At the sect’s entrance, the protective array opened a fifty-meter-wide gap, allowing the three factions to enter in turn. The giant corpse, pill furnace, and sword all shrank in size to pass within, and the array sealed itself once more.

Xuan Qizi cupped his fists toward the three veteran Golden Core cultivators. “Welcome, friends, and your disciples to Xingyan Sect. I, Xu, will see to your hospitality.”

Wei Cangyuan returned the gesture. “You’re too kind, Friend Xu. Forgive us for any imposition.”

Xuan Qizi and Wei Cangyuan were old acquaintances, their relationship deep, so Wei Cangyuan’s manner was genuinely cordial.

Old Ghost Shishan, however, went straight to Grand Elder Liu Xiang, as if they were close friends, deliberately ignoring Xuan Qizi.

“Brother Liu, you’ve broken through again—only a step from Nascent Soul. I’ll be depending on you for guidance soon, hah!”

Yet Liu Xiang remained indifferent, his tone lukewarm toward Old Ghost Shishan. In the past, he too might have welcomed him warmly to spite Xuan Qizi. But now, with his plans changed and confidence high that he’d reach Nascent Soul before Xuan Qizi, he was preparing to abandon cooperation with the Corpse Shade Sect.

Rejected, Old Ghost Shishan’s face turned grim as he returned to the shrunken giant corpse’s head.

Daxi asked Xuan Qizi, “Friend Xu, is the disciple my Sword Pavilion designated well today?”

Xuan Qizi pointed to the crowd, where Li Li, looking like an eager hound, stood. Smiling, he replied, “He’s well—but he’s fallen in love. They’re both at the age for it, and the girl’s one of our direct disciples, just as talented.”

Xuan Qizi’s words hinted at forming an alliance through marriage, hoping to connect with the Sword Pavilion via Li Li.

Daxi chuckled. “No need to rush. If Li Li wishes, let him follow his heart once he reaches the Golden Core stage. When it comes to love, our Sword Pavilion always follows the heart.”

Xuan Qizi maintained a genial smile, but inwardly cursed the old fox. “Follow the heart,” he scoffed—Sword cultivators were notorious for leaving after getting what they wanted. But Qiao Yixue had already bewitched Li Li—if they thought they could just walk away, they were dreaming.

“Indeed, let the young handle their own matters. If we old fellows don’t push ourselves, we’ll soon be surpassed by the next generation!”

As the leaders chatted, Old Ghost Shishan pressed impatiently, “Are we opening the minor world or not?”

Xuan Qizi shot him a cold glare, inwardly wishing he could control the mountain-guarding array and obliterate the fiend.

Wei Cangyuan also interjected, “Enough talk—we’ll have plenty of time to catch up later. Let the youngsters enter the minor world first.”

His presence at Xingyan Sect was proof of the Pill Valley’s regard for the minor world—its resources could determine how many alchemists the sect would produce in the future. Abundant spiritual herbs meant more alchemists; their interests were tightly bound.