At a bustling sect, a middle-aged man with a cold expression and hands clasped behind his back arrived at the entrance, followed by eight timid youths.
The gate guards, upon seeing who was approaching and feeling the powerful aura pressing down on them, quickly adopted respectful yet fearful expressions and granted passage without hesitation.
"Greetings, Ancestor Gong!" the disciples shouted quickly, not daring to lift their heads.
Ancestor Gong simply walked past them, carrying the eight youths along with him, suspended by spiritual energy, without any effort.
The guards did not fear letting him in without investigation, nor did they intend to stop him, for in the cultivation world, not even the most arrogant sect would allow anyone — even an ancestor — to enter without some form of security verification.
In that sect, and in most of the others of similar level, the ancestors carried a token activated by a trace of their soul, something impossible to forge. Because of that, there was no fear of impostors — if anyone tried, the sect's protective barrier would recognize it and block their entry.
What the guards, heads lowered, did not notice was that the token at the waist of the supposed Ancestor Gong — which should have been glowing with a faint bluish light — had not even been activated.
After entering, they were quickly intercepted by a blue-haired man in the Golden Core Realm, who bowed respectfully before the ancestor.
"Ancestor Gong, thank you for your hard work. Leave these disciples to me, there's no need to trouble yourself further," the man, an inner elder of the sect, hurried forward to receive the eight youths.
Their sect was relatively strong among the Nascent Soul sects of the Beiyan Continent. Moreover, together with the alliance of five sects they led, they stood practically at the top among the Nascent Soul powers.
They fell short only of those backed by Soul Formation powers.
However, even being powerful, they did not dare to openly hunt cultivators with Spiritual Physiques or higher, as such talents were officially considered the property of the true powers of the continent. If it were discovered that a sect had deceived or coerced someone like that into joining, destruction would be inevitable.
Perhaps, with some luck, a talented disciple ignorant of the world might come on their own accord. In that case, they could accept them without issue. But most of those geniuses knew their own value and sought out powerful sects directly — ones that would welcome them with open arms.
Though tyrannical, that was the cultivation world: the strong dictated the rules, and the weak could only obey.
However, Soul Formation powers had little interest in the talents born on desert continents. For them, two or three special physiques appearing every thousand years were insignificant.
Thus, Nascent Soul sects fought brutal wars for recruitment authority in each of those continents.
For Soul Formation powers, a Spiritual Physique was excellent, but not unprecedented — after all, they already had a few among their ranks. Yet for Nascent Soul powers, such talents were true blessings.
It must be understood that a cultivator with a Spiritual Physique, as long as they had resources and didn't die early, would inevitably reach the Nascent Soul Realm — and a high stage within it. Therefore, a sect that controlled a continent could ensure the rise of at least two new powerful Nascent Souls every thousand years, greatly strengthening its power, influence, and access to resources.
Because of that, the wars between such forces for control of those territories were incredibly brutal — even cultivators at the Nascent Soul level could fall.
And that was precisely why the Soul Formation powers had an agreement not to intervene in such conflicts. If one of their ancestors were to fall because of these disputes, not even fifty Spiritual Physiques could make up for the loss — let alone two or three every thousand years.
Naturally, the sects affiliated with them were bound by the same restriction, as they were extensions of their power.
But for Nascent Soul sects, that was an acceptable risk.
When a force like the alliance of the five sects that rules the Beixu (Northern Desolation) Continent manages to stand firm for many years, its strength grows exponentially. Toppling them was nearly impossible unless Soul Formation powers intervened, as the number of Ancestor-level cultivators was constantly replenished.
And cultivators with special physiques had always been far stronger than ordinary ones of the same realm.
Ancestor Gong looked at the man who had intercepted him and snorted.
"Humph! Step aside. I want to take these brats to meet the other ancestors."
The ancestor shoved him roughly aside with spiritual energy and continued forward.
The man, who had fallen to the ground and looked slightly disheveled, did not take offense. Ancestors were always like that — he should consider himself lucky not to have been injured.
'Why does the ancestor want to take them personally? Could it be that we caught one or two Spiritual Physiques this time?!' the man thought about the strange action, and upon believing he understood something, his eyes gleamed. He immediately ran to inform the sect leader.
Meanwhile, Ancestor Gong and the eight youths continued until they reached a secluded area at the peak of the main mountain.
Once there, they passed through several more protective formations — and once again, the token at the ancestor's waist remained inactive.
The moment they entered, several divine senses fell upon them, probing attentively.
"Junior Gong… why did you bring these boys here?" an elderly voice sounded from deep within the cave, puzzled.
Ancestor Gong clasped his fists together and smiled excitedly.
"Senior Kong, this time I had quite a pleasant surprise. When I went to the Beixu Continent, I found a treasure! One of these boys possesses a terrifying Sacred Physique!" he said, his voice trembling with excitement and his face flushed with euphoria.
As soon as his words echoed, the cave fell into complete silence.
Then, suddenly, from the depths, five figures flew out at great speed, gathering before Ancestor Gong in the blink of an eye, all with serious yet excited expressions.
"Are you serious?!" asked the old man at the front — clearly the Senior Kong from before.
He was the supreme power of the sect, his cultivation at the perfection stage of the Nascent Soul Realm. Thus, even though he was an ancestor like the others, he was still respectfully addressed as senior.
But at that moment, even his eyes burned with expectation as he stared at the eight youths behind Junior Gong.
The old man was thrilled, but also apprehensive about what this could mean.
A Sacred Physique was not something they could keep, and if discovered, their sect would inevitably be destroyed. At the same time, such a physique, provided it had a Soul Formation technique and sufficient spiritual energy, would have its advancement to that realm almost guaranteed.
This could be their sect's chance at ascension… or its extinction.
Although they were confused as to how such a powerful talent could appear in a continent so spiritually deficient, they did not doubt it. They knew Gong was not foolish enough to joke about such a matter.
"These are the heavens helping my Blazing Heaven Sect!" a joyful voice sounded at the entrance of the cave.
It was the sect leader, who had arrived just in time to hear the news. He was the only one, aside from the ancestors, allowed to enter that place.
The leader looked seriously at Gong, setting aside formalities and courtesies at such a critical moment.
"Ancestor Gong… you silenced everyone who knew about this news, correct?" he asked with a grave expression.
This was of utmost importance to their sect — mistakes could not be allowed.
Unfortunately, Ancestor Gong smiled and shook his head.
"No, but I'm about to," he said with a soft laugh, while his voice began to change into that of an old man.
The other ancestors and the sect leader frowned as they saw him shake his head, but soon an alarm rang in their hearts as his voice shifted.
Their eyes widened in shock and caution — which then turned into horror, as an overwhelming aura fell upon them, freezing them in place and filling them with panic.
"No, he's not Junior Gong! He must have killed him and taken his identity!" Ancestor Kong roared in terror, but it was already too late. He could no longer move or resist.
Gong stopped smiling, and his appearance, height, and aura slowly transformed into that of a sinister old man. The most horrifying part was that the shadow beneath his feet rose up, wrapping him in a thick, black shroud.
"Don't worry, your dear Junior Gong is still here," he said darkly, opening his withered hand to reveal in his palm an illusory and extremely weak figure.
There lay a man with the same appearance the old man had used as a disguise earlier. The small figure opened his eyes with difficulty, staring at Ancestor Kong in despair.
"Senior… save me!" the real Ancestor Gong struggled to shout, barely clinging to life.
Unfortunately, his senior was utterly powerless to help him.
The dark old man was, without a doubt, Mo Yexuan, the ancestor of the Shadow Pavilion of the Infinite Dao Sect. As for the eight behind him — who also reverted from youthful appearances back to middle-aged men — they were two inner elders and six outer elders of the same pavilion.
"Senior, our sect has never offended any Soul Formation power. Please, I beg for mercy. We can give you whatever you desire!" Ancestor Kong quickly composed himself and spoke humbly.
This was not a time for hesitation. Before him stood a powerful cultivator of the Soul Formation Realm — to obey or to die were the only options.
Although a ruler of a desert continent could not surrender to a Soul Formation power without both becoming targets for destruction, in this moment he was not foolish enough to mention such obvious rules to his opponent.
What he did not imagine was that the man before him was, in truth, a terrifying being in the Void Refinement Realm — something far beyond a mere Soul Formation cultivator.
"Not difficult, not difficult." Mo Yexuan's amused, raspy voice made the gathered ancestors shiver, yet all listened intently.
"I heard that you people like to place slave seals on the talents you capture, promising them freedom once they reach the Nascent Soul Realm. And when they finally do, before you agree to remove the seal, you demand they make a Soul Oath of eternal loyalty, correct?"
He asked with a cold smile, the corner of his lips curling as he observed them.