Chapter 67
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Chapter 67: The Secret Vault
Among the twenty white-clad disciples, ten inspected while ten guarded, all stern-faced. As they checked Ye Yun’s group, Ye Yun sensed heavy killing intent radiating from them, as though he were prey in their eyes.
“Hiding won’t be easy.”
Since even Elder Lan hadn’t detected the black and white light within him, these disciples’ routine checks naturally revealed nothing. After they passed, Ye Yun muttered flatly to Duan Chenfeng beside him.
Duan Chenfeng snorted softly. “True. They’re here to monitor us. Cross them, and they’ll strike without hesitation.”
The inspection ended swiftly.
“Senior Brother Yang, these are the last outer disciples. All pass,” a white-clad disciple announced.
Yang Qingfeng, leader of the inner disciples, stood with his hands clasped behind him. His cultivation had reached the sixth level of the Qi refining stage, his true qi compressed tenfold into true essence.
After sweeping his gaze over the hundred disciples, Yang Qingfeng nodded. “Move out. They’ll be needed tomorrow.”
The white-clad disciples turned, leading the group swiftly across the endless plain. Ye Yun and Duan Chenfeng lingered in the center, silent. Where could Yang Qingfeng be taking them in this barren expanse?
But as they rounded a stretch of dense woods, the scenery shifted abruptly.
The lush plain vanished. Yellowed ancient trees and autumn leaves replaced it—spring had turned to fall. Ahead roared a ten-zhang-wide river, its muddy waters churning with silt.
Hundreds of yellow- and teal-robed outer disciples from other Heavenly Sword Sect branches crowded the riverbank.
“Rest here. Prepare for tomorrow’s trial,” a white-clad disciple barked.
Qu Yiping’s voice cut through the air. “Senior Brother Yang, what is this trial about?”
Yang Qingfeng, standing yards away, turned sharply. “Outer disciples needn’t ask questions.”
“But knowing helps us serve better,” Qu Yiping pressed.
“The trial is confidential. Obey orders tomorrow.” Yang Qingfeng’s voice froze Qu Yiping into silence.
Scanning the five hundred outer disciples, Yang Qingfeng added, “Hear this: multiple major sects from the Jin Kingdom join this trial. Uphold our sect’s honor above all. Any treasures you find are yours to keep.”
Ye Yun exchanged stunned glances with others. A trial against other sects? But why involve so many outer disciples? Real sect strength lay in true inheritors, not low-level disciples.
The night crawled with tension. None slept, only meditated quietly.
At dawn, a horn blared. “Outer disciples, depart in ten breaths. Disobeyers die!”
Five hundred disciples formed ranks in three breaths under the autumn wind. Yang Qingfeng appeared ahead, flanked by inner disciples.
Half an hour’s march through dense woods returned them to the boundless plain. Ye Yun stood motionless, unease thickening. Even now, the trial’s nature remained hidden.
Suddenly, light erupted overhead. Dozens of figures materialized mid-air. Similar glows lit three distant sky regions, revealing hovering groups.
Ye Yun looked up. At their forefront stood a white-robed man in his thirties, eyes star-bright, features lightly weathered. His presence warped space—he seemed both miles away and breathing down Ye Yun’s neck.
Duan Chenfeng’s wide-eyed glance confirmed the illusion.
“Peak Master Ouyang, leading personally?” boomed an aged voice across the sky.
“Sect Master Sun, so does Ba Dao Sect,” the white-robed man replied, surprised.
Sect Master Sun’s chuckle carried from his black-clad figure. “Our humble Ba Dao Sect can’t match Heavenly Sword. Even all-out, we’d gain little from this Secret Vault.”
“Secret Vault?”
The term struck Ye Yun and Duan Chenfeng like thunder, freezing their breath.
