Chapter 32
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Chapter 32: Taoist Treasure: Tower of Illusions
Though Zong Xiu held no hope for mastering The Arts of Cultivation, he couldn’t help but envy those who did. Meanwhile, Mu Lin considered learning talismans and formations. Not only could these skills boost his paper figure’s magical powers, they also offered a way to earn Spirit Stones.
Wealth, companions, methods, and territory—the more Mu Lin cultivated, the more he saw these four as essential. In this world, wealth reigned supreme. With enough Spirit Stones, he could purchase spiritual materials, cultivation resources, and rare treasures. Yet earning them wasn’t simple. Despite his talent for painting and calligraphy, selling too many artworks would lower their value. Scarcity made things precious; even masterpieces became cheap if overproduced. This was why most artists in his past life only gained fame after death.
…
As Mu Lin pondered money-making schemes, Zong Xiu sighed and brought up the final, most crucial matter in the Formal Class: forming a Team.
“A Team?”
Mu Lin blinked in confusion. He’d followed everything Zong Xiu said until now, but this puzzled him.
“Does the Taoist Palace force us to form Teams?”
“Not force, but encourage. A single person’s energy has limits. Teamwork is supported…”
Zong Xiu explained that Teams were tied to battling strange evil spirits. Over time, the Great Spirit Dynasty’s wise ones had learned these spirits’ unusual abilities made them deadly foes. A lone cultivator rarely matched a spirit of equal strength.
But humans thrived in groups. While a solo fighter struggled against a spirit, three or five working together could turn the tide. Yet hastily formed Teams risked betrayal and distrust, leading to weaker combined strength—sometimes even 1 + 1 + 1 < 1.
Taoist Palace students, having trained together for three years, knew each other’s strengths. Thus, the Palace urged forming small Teams of three to five.
—Why small? Major cities lacked enough Qi Practitioners. Larger Teams would leave the Great Spirit Dynasty’s borders undefended.
Since teamwork was key, Taoist Palace assessments allowed group participation.
At the mention of assessments, Zong Xiu’s eyes gleamed with mystery.
“Brother Mu, guess how our Palace runs its assessments?”
“Sparring matches?”
“No.”
“Group battles?”
“Wrong again!”
Zong Xiu cut short the guessing, his voice tinged with awe. “You’re thinking too small. When the Taoist Palace was founded, heavenly masters and even Taoist Lords themselves shaped its ways.”
“Arena, team formation—this is the standard assessment method. What we’re doing is actual combat drills!”
“?!!”
The words “actual combat” jolted Mu Lin.
He couldn’t grasp why the Taoist Palace would make such a reckless decision. True, real combat best hones skills and weeds out the weak. But Mu Lin and his peers were still far too inexperienced to face strange evil spirits. Charging into battle now would be suicide.
Yet he soon pieced it together.
“Combat drills… Did the heavenly masters trap evil spirits here for us to fight?”
Mu Lin’s guess widened Zong Xiu’s grin.
“Evil spirits are indeed bound within the palace. But Brother Mu, you underestimate the heavenly masters’ methods—they’re beyond our comprehension.”
Zong Xiu’s voice softened with reverence.
“When the Taoist Palace was founded, the heavenly masters and Taoist Lords jointly forged a trial treasure—the Tower of Illusions. Thirty-three floors tall, packed with captured monsters and evil spirits. It can split itself, cast illusions, even project souls.”
“Through this treasure, we enter the tower in spirit form, training through dream-like trials. I’ve tried it once…”
As Zong Xiu spoke with awe, Mu Lin grasped the Formal Class’s assessment system. Built by the Great Spirit Dynasty’s full might, the tower’s powers staggered imagination.
First came suppression—it had imprisoned multiple catastrophe-level evils. Second, replication—though the main tower stood in the imperial city, all thirty-three Taoist Palaces hosted copies. Lastly, its illusion magic could recreate entire disaster zones, complete with civilians.
“No two trials repeat,” Zong Xiu emphasized. “We adapt on the spot. Teams under five can enter together—that’s how Yan Yunyu caught up to Ji Xue. Both now clear the third level…”
Mu Lin learned the tower opened daily, but energy costs limited free entries to once every ten days. Extra attempts required Spirit Stones. Monthly rewards went to top five climbing teams—hence most pushed hard.
But Mu Lin held back. With no spare Spirit Stones, he’d use his single free attempt on the final day.
As Zong Xiu left, he offered to lobby his team—an offer Mu Lin refused. Several teammates had been glaring their way, hostility plain. Mu Lin wouldn’t beg where unwelcome.
Events unfolded predictably. Zong Xiu’s knife-twirling teammate spat, “We tolerate you befriending that trash, but don’t drag him here.” Others’ scowls echoed the sentiment. Their muscular female captain demanded tests for entry—until Zong Xiu revealed Mu Lin’s refusal.
“At least he knows his place,” the knife-boy sneered.
…
Ignoring the drama, Mu Lin retreated to cultivate the Black Water Mystic Serpent’s transformation method. Spiritual energy hummed as black mist magical power pooled within him. At this rate, reaching the Awakened Realm neared.
Yet irony struck—his Level 3 Spiritual Roots lagged behind his cultivation method’s progress. Thanks to his proficiency panel, the technique itself had hit Level 2 Proficiency (480/900). He faced the absurd prospect of mastering Spring Fountain and Spirit Pool stages while still stuck at drawing in energy.
“This can’t happen… right?”
