The scene in Feixian Pavilion was spectacular. Golden Core and Nascent Soul cultivators sat packed across the courtyard floor, while Divine Transformation and Divine Soul cultivators hovered in the air. Before each of them, a plum-blossom water mirror slowly turned for inspection.
Though Jian Dan appeared to open the mirrors at random, the assignments were crossed.
In other words, no one viewed the trial dreams of the disciples they had recruited themselves. They watched other squads' candidates instead. This neatly curbed bias and even made reviewers harsher in their scrutiny.
Five thousand children entered the dreamscape at once, every one experiencing a different life. The sheer scale gave the sect cultivators a new respect for Jian Lu Zūnshàng's strength. Weaving dreams on this level consumed tremendous Primordial Soul and focus.
Everyone watched their mirror intently, flicking a sleeve now and then to switch panes. Each disciple's dream had to be reviewed.
The entire inn lay in utter quiet. In a few rooms not occupied by Heavenly Sword Sect cultivators, residents felt a vast divine sense wash over them and regretted not leaving earlier.
Within the dreams, the children joined an immortal sect, cultivated, stumbled, and persevered. Some advanced smoothly, others progressed slowly, inching forward with knocks and bruises.
Two hundred years later, the insect race invaded. This was the heart of Jian Dan's dreamweave.
Even the sect squad leaders furrowed their brows. Countless insects tore open the spatial nodes of Lingyun Continent. War erupted inside the sect itself.
Everywhere, black-armored insects devoured cultivators. Flying centipedes hissed overhead. Cleaver mantises scythed through lines. Worst of all were the giant black-armored insects, engines of destruction. Heavenly Sword Sect cultivators fought to kill insects while shielding low-ranked disciples to retreat.
The onslaught came too suddenly. The sect was unprepared and sank into bitter battle. In a single exchange, tens of thousands of sect cultivators were swallowed, turned into feed for the enemy's growth. Some were controlled outright and turned their blades on their own.
Former companions became knives in the insects' claws, stabbing without hesitation. Blood winds howled. Low-ranked disciples, a mere hundred years into the sect, could only watch, powerless.
They did not even have the strength to kill insects. They could only flee under their seniors' protection. That was when the real trial began.
The next century became one of chaos across Lingyun Continent. Every Nascent Soul and above joined a war that seemed without end.
Each intelligent insect slain cost the cultivators dearly. Small sects and cultivation families left no heirs at all, erasing themselves from history's current.
The Heavenly Sword Sect disciples who had not yet reached Nascent Soul guarded the sect's legacy. They cultivated desperately, gathered what strength they could, and began their own resistance.
Some lagged and were cut down. Some perished with the enemy. Some lost heart and hid in the mortal realm. Each chose their own road.
When the insects finally shattered the barrier between the cultivation world and the mortal realm, some still stepped forward, choosing as cultivators should. Others clung to life, discarding a cultivator's dignity.
At false dawn, the mirrors before every cultivator went dark and faded away.
Jian Dan's voice, cool as water, sounded. "Do any of you have unqualified disciples to remove?"
Only then did the cultivators realize night had passed. Their hearts felt heavy. Even Jian Jing looked at Jian Dan anew.
The vision of Lingyun Continent falling felt too real, so real it seemed like the continent's true future.
Jian Dan had another purpose as well, to send a signal to the sect's mid-tier cultivators. War was near. A few with sharper instincts had already fallen into deep thought.
Jian Dan asked again. "Are there candidates to return to the mortal realm?"
Jian Wu spoke first. "Reporting to Zūnshàng, among the ten I reviewed there are none to send back."
The others followed with their results. Thirty-one children had failed. Terror had stripped them of a cultivator's pride.
"Jian Wu, erase their knowledge of the cultivation world and return them to the mortal realm. My Heavenly Sword Sect will not take the gutless."
"Yes, Zūnshàng."
Jian Dan spoke again, slowly. "Your realm need not be the highest. Your swordwork need not be the finest. But you cannot lack the courage to raise your blade to the enemy. Kill the enemy you can kill. Do what a cultivator must do. Only then will you not shame the sect's nurture. Do you understand?"
"We understand. We heed Zūnshàng's teaching."
This time the answer came as one, loud and steady.
"Good. Dismissed. We depart at the Si hour and return to the sect."
"Yes."
Jian Jing lifted a hand and drew back her barrier. The crowd filed out of Feixian Pavilion in order. "Junior Sister, will these children remember the dream?"
"They will keep it for one day. Then the memory of the dream will fade."
Jian Dan smiled, then instructed Jian Po, "Tomorrow, after assembly, ask whether they still wish to enter the Heavenly Sword Sect. Any who refuse, send them back together."
"Yes, Zūnshàng."
For once Jian Po put away her charming smile and answered with solemn gravity.
Sensing the gloom, Jian Dan brightened her tone. "What we are doing is laying in stores against the coming storm. We will end the insect war in the shortest time and save Lingyun Continent. You are all the main force. Let us encourage one another."
"Yes, Zūnshàng."
After sending Jian Po, Liuli, Wu Siyuan, and Jin Ai out, Jian Jing finally asked, "Junior Sister, is this what you told Senior Brother Jian Mao about, what you faced in that trial space you left only after being forced to break through?"
"It is."
"The dream you wove tonight, was it all of it?"
"Half."
"No wonder Senior Brother says your killing intent alone can shake an opponent's mind. I may not match you there."
This time the praise was sincere.
"Enough, Senior Sister. Do not flatter me. It sounds like you are digging me a hole."
"You are too sharp. I am pushing you to refine that trial artifact quickly so I can experience it for myself."
"At once, Senior Sister's command."
They both laughed.
From that day, every cultivator who had seen the dream doubled their efforts. Within the Heavenly Sword Sect, word of a war with the insect race in two hundred years began to spread, slow but steady.
At departure, the recruited children looked wilted after their night's dream. The youngest had red-rimmed eyes. Many had cried.
When Jian Wu asked whether anyone wished to withdraw, the little ones kept their tears but none chose to leave.
Jian Wu pointed to a six-year-old boy, eyes and nose still red. "What you dreamed of is what you will face. Why stay? If you do not enter the cultivation world, you can live a hundred peaceful years, with children and grandchildren to see you off."
The boy was half-grown and understood well enough. He still answered firmly. "Zi Liang wants to learn immortal arts to kill insects, so they cannot enter the mortal realm to hurt Zi Liang's family and villagers."
"Good. I hope none of you regret today's choice. Board the boats."
They boarded once more. Not yet disciples, they had nonetheless taken their first step as cultivators by passing through a trial of dreams.