Chapter 33
Our Discord Server: https://discord.gg/PazjBDkTmW
Chapter 33: Strange Happenings
The outer disciples bustling outside the Trial Hall suddenly halted, all startled.
"Is there truly a major incident to summon us earlier?" Nan Cheng gazed at the sky, his deep voice tinged with doubt.
"Is this the bell sound calling new disciples?"
Ye Yun’s brows knitted tightly. Three bell tolls signaled their assembly. Even his waist token now glowed crimson, its Glowing Screen map revealing a new red marker – the gathering point. Hearing Nan Cheng’s words, he suspected the senior might know more. "Senior Brother Nan, do you have any insights?"
"This summons you to Martial Hall Square, likely for the East-West Hall competition." Nan Cheng studied the marker on his waist token, frowning. "The servant disciples’ triennial assessment was already moved up. The hall competition should’ve occurred a month after your initiation."
"Are they holding it now?" Ye Yun blinked in surprise. "Elder Sun said it would be ten days post-initiation, then announced a three-day notice. Now they’ve shortened it further. What’s happening?"
"This disorder suggests frequent changes in the elders’ orders." Nan Cheng’s expression darkened as he studied Ye Yun. "Though unclear why, something’s amiss. Stay vigilant."
"Understood."
Without delay, Ye Yun sped toward the marked location.
"Brother Ye!"
A green-robed disciple halted on the mountain path, bowing when he spotted Ye Yun.
"You are?" Ye Yun paused, puzzled.
"Yu Minghong. At Hall of Refining the Heart, your warning saved me from the cliff. Later, mimicking your and Brother Duan’s actions helped me pass." The disciple’s eyes shone with gratitude. "Without you, I’d have failed… or worse."
"Formalities aren’t needed. We help each other." Ye Yun noted the youth’s sincere appreciation.
"Brother Ye, we should hurry!" Yu Minghong urged, noticing most newcomers had outpaced them.
"Move out."
Ye Yun accelerated without hesitation.
The Martial Hall protruded from Tian Zhu Peak’s midsection like a stone tongue, its shadow blanketing ten miles of vegetation below.
Normally serving as sparring grounds, the hall hosted regular competitions to identify talented disciples for rewards and mentorship.
Tian Zhu Peak’s outer sect rules permitted duels but forbade killing. Deadly feuds required Discipline Hall approval for life-and-death matches on the designated arena.
Private lethal fights risked spirit stone fines, abolish the cultivation, or expulsion.
Though sparring occurred daily, few lingered – all disciples focused on earning training resources through sect tasks rather than casual combat.
Now the vast square teemed with bodies.
"Why such crowds?"
Ye Yun’s unease grew. Over five thousand disciples packed the area – far beyond the hundred-odd newcomers.
"Tian Zhu’s outer sect has this many?"
Yu Minghong paled visibly.
New initiates wore green robes. Veterans assigned permanent duties donned yellow. Only black-robed disciples – those attaining certain cultivation levels, becoming elders’ formal disciples, or holding key positions in spirit fields or pill chambers – could access secret areas and advanced cultivation techniques, qualifying as inner disciples.
Yet even Tian Zhu’s elite merely equalled Shadowless Peak’s outer disciples – and Shadowless Peak itself lay outside Heavenly Sword Sect’s inner mountains.
They had known about the strict hierarchy since their days as servant disciples, but none imagined Tian Zhu Peak alone housed four to five thousand disciples like them.
With only one or two hundred new disciples accepted yearly, it would take decades to accumulate so many wearing green or yellow robes. This meant even after years of service, many would never earn black robes, remaining at the lowest tier.
Realizing this might be his own future, Yu Minghong’s forehead grew damp with sweat that soon dripped down his face.
Three figures rose from the Martial Hall, hovering midair as they glided forward. The leading elder had snow-white hair tied in a Daoist bun pierced by a small wooden sword. His black robe gleamed with gold-threaded collars. Behind him stood two green-robed elders, including Elder Lan who’d taken Shen Mo away earlier.
"That’s Elder Chunyu Yan," someone whispered. "They say he’s reached the pinnacle of the Qi Refining Stage—half a step from grasping yin and yang to achieve Foundation Establishment."
"If I could reach that level in my lifetime…"
"Five hundred years of lifespan! That’s true immortality!"
"Why would Elder Chunyu himself appear? This must be serious."
"Fortune or calamity, neither can be avoided."
"Since when do we get fortunes?"
Veteran disciples exchanged grim looks as whispers spread. Elder Lan raised his hands in a pressing gesture.
An invisible pressure crushed the crowd into instant silence.
"First," Elder Lan announced tonelessly, "Elder Chunyu Yan welcomes our 128 new disciples—Tian Zhu Peak’s future pride."
Had the pressure not pinned them, scoffing would’ve echoed through the square. Since when did peak elders greet newcomers? But none dared speak—disrespect meant expulsion… or worse.
"Second: All outer disciples will compete to select the top hundred. These will undertake the Heavenly Sword Sect’s trial task. Successful teams receive twenty top-grade spirit stones and medium-grade spiritual weapons. Outstanding performers may become inner disciples regardless of current cultivation."
The pressure lifted. Murmurs resurged like wind through grass.
"Our chance, Senior Brother!"
"Ten years of training for this!"
"Fools," an older disciple sneered. "Medium-grade weapons for outer disciples? Since when does the sect give such gifts?"
"Junior Brother Jin, these pups don’t smell the blood yet. Lose deliberately during matches."
"But we’re top fifty outer disciples! What if we fail to rank?"
"Wait and see. Pray the matches don’t start today—three days might give us time to…"
Veterans calculated risks. A beating was preferable to deadly trials. As whispers swirled, Ye Yun quietly began his own calculations.