Chapter 2

Our Discord Server: https://discord.gg/PazjBDkTmW

Chapter 2: The Sanctified Realm of Mankind

This colossal peak, a sentinel of the heavens, rises thousands of feet into the sky, its base sprawling across tens of thousands of square kilometers. At its zenith lies an expansive flatland, several thousand square meters in breadth, upon which an ancient sanctuary, hewn from massive stones, stands in testament to the ages. The entrance, a towering eighty meters high, is flanked by doorposts of rugged boulders, giving the edifice an impression of monolithic grandeur. Above the entrance, the ancient seal script character for ‘Martial’ looms, a silent guardian of the sanctum.

Upon his arrival at the martial hall, Fengyun Wuji observed a plaza paved with cerulean stone, filled with individuals, each in their designated space, meditating with closed eyes. The assembly was a tapestry of ages, from the youthful to the aged, all engrossed in their solitary cultivation. Were it not for the elder’s guidance that these were warriors grappling with their martial plateaus within the sanctuary, one might presume them lifeless.

As they traversed the central flagstone path leading to the entrance, their footfalls seemed to rouse a handful of cultivators from their reverie. Surprise flickered in their eyes upon beholding the elder and Fengyun Wuji, only to be replaced by a swift return to their meditative slumber.

At the entrance, two stalwart men with waist-length silver hair, yet with the visage of those in their prime, sat cross-legged. Their presence was as commanding as their years were enigmatic. As the duo approached, one of them opened his eyes, and in that fleeting moment, the world around Fengyun Wuji illuminated, as if pierced by a gaze as luminous as the stars.

“Sword Servant, is this the newly ascended kin?” inquired the man, his voice neutral, stripped of any discernible emotion.

The elder affirmed with a nod, “Indeed, noble sir, for the next three years, his martial education shall be under your esteemed tutelage.”

With a slight nod of acknowledgment, the man replied, “Understood. You may take your leave.” The elder, now smiling, clapped Fengyun Wuji on the shoulder, imparting, “From this moment forth, your journey is in your hands. Should you encounter uncertainties, seek counsel from these noble men. If, after three years, you’ve made no mark, then any misfortune befalls you, it shall be by your own hand.” His tone sharpened with each word.

Fengyun Wuji, with a stoic nod, remained undisturbed, watching as the elder soared into the heavens and vanished from sight. He then approached the two attendants and, in kind, seated himself cross-legged.

“Name?” The attendant on the left, eyes still closed, inquired.

“Fengyun Wuji.”

With a flourish, the attendant inscribed ‘Fengyun Wuji’ in the air, and then pressed, “Age?”

“Thirty-three.”

At this declaration, the attendant on the left opened his eyes, revealing an unexpected sight—his eyes were entirely white, devoid of pupils.

“At the age of thirty-three, to have ascended is a rare feat; you are the second of your kind,” he remarked before closing his eyes again, inscribing the number thirty-three into the void. With a slap of his palm, the characters soared upwards, piercing an ethereal film that materialized at about thirty meters high. As the film appeared, a multitude of characters emerged, only to vanish alongside it.

“The registration is complete. Seek him for the arts of magic or martial prowess,” the attendant said, his hands falling still upon his knees. Fengyun Wuji could no longer detect any sign of life from him, and had they not just conversed, he might have doubted the man’s existence.

“Do you wish to pursue the arcane arts or the way of the warrior?” The attendant on the right, his eyes gleaming like stars, regarded Fengyun Wuji with a smile.

“The way of the warrior.”

“Do you comprehend what the arcane arts entail?”

“I do not.”

“Why then, do you seek the martial path?” the man inquired, intrigued.

“I am a warrior by nature, ascended through the daylight path of combat. Why seek the arcane when the way of the warrior is my own?” Fengyun Wuji was now the one to question.

“Interesting, it seems you are unaware that the arcane arts can be mastered more swiftly and yield equal prowess. Many who have ascended here have chosen the path of magic. Knowing this, do you still wish to adhere to the martial way?”

“Yes,” Fengyun Wuji’s response was unwavering.

“Very well, follow me,” the attendant said, rising with solemnity and proceeding into the sanctum.

The vast interior of the sanctuary was a labyrinth of long corridors stretching into the abyssal darkness, flanked by stone walls partitioning countless small chambers.

The dizzying array of tens of thousands of rooms, each exuding an aura as boundless as the cosmos, left Fengyun Wuji in awe. The temple attendant led him into a dimly lit chamber, where with a press of his hand against the wall, the floor split and receded, revealing a dark passage beneath.

At the entrance to the passage, the attendant pointed to the stairs leading to the unknown, “Descend. Therein lie countless martial tomes. Whether you find a superior manual of martial arts depends on fortune. And remember, to truly master the art, one must forge their own path. The temple holds many, but most are foundational. Your destiny is in your hands.”

“Thank you!” With these words, Fengyun Wuji stepped resolutely into the darkness.

Night vision, for a martial artist, is a fundamental skill, and thus the utter darkness of the temple’s underground posed no obstacle to Fengyun Wuji.

The attendant had spoken of the multitude of martial tomes within the temple, but it was only upon entering the dark passage that Fengyun Wuji grasped the true extent of this collection.

The martial arts were inscribed on the rocky walls of the passage, the script dense and minuscule, nearly indistinguishable without careful scrutiny. Moreover, the stone steps did not descend in a straight line to the base of the mountain but rather spiraled back and forth within, the mountain’s thousand-foot height offering an expansive canvas for the inscription of martial techniques.

Fengyun Wuji, calculating the time in his mind, perused the martial incantations and diagrams adorning the walls, a testament to his pre-ascension skill of dual-wielding and multitasking. After a day and a night, he had barely descended eight steps, a mere fraction of the wealth of martial knowledge contained herein.

Three years was a fleeting span, and to peruse the entirety of this passage would take months, not to mention the myriad similar chambers within the temple. Mastery of martial arts lies in precision, not quantity. Thus, to select the most fitting discipline was a daunting task.

A month into his exploration, Fengyun Wuji had traversed but a thousand steps, yet in that time, he discovered a technique. The martial diagrams did not seem to originate from a single hand; each bore the distinct handwriting and style of its creator. With this insight, Fengyun Wuji closed his eyes, relying on touch to discern the martial diagrams etched into the walls.

Each individual who inscribed their martial art left a trace of their essence, the strength of which corresponded to their level of cultivation. Sensing these residual energies, Fengyun Wuji swiftly filtered through the options, covering three hundred steps in a single day.

He was not alone in his journey. At the thirtieth thousand steps, he encountered a disheveled martial artist, clutching a rusty sword, engrossed in the records on the wall. The man barely acknowledged Fengyun Wuji’s swift passage, emitting a disdainful snort.

After three months, Fengyun Wuji reached the end of the passage, a desolate stone wall marking the terminus, with naught beyond. Throughout his journey, he had sensed myriad energies, each distinct in strength and character. Having reviewed all the martial records in the passage, Fengyun Wuji, with eyes still closed, hurried back.

At the fortiethousandth step on his return, he found what he sought—a brief inscription of a few hundred characters, peculiarly etched onto the side of a step rather than on the wall like the others. The aura emanating from this text was starkly different, piquing Fengyun Wuji’s interest.

This inscription began with the name of a martial heart method, inscribed in six ancient seal characters: ‘Yi Nian Jian Ti *’. Following the method was a message left by its creator:

—This technique is but a rudimentary foundation; the subsequent stages must be self-devised. Success or failure hinges on one’s destiny. Even I have not mastered this art. I had intended to destroy it, but the effort invested was too great to bear. To those who undertake this path and read these words, heed this caution: exercise utmost care.

…