Luo Yun woke at dawn. The faint light entering his cave was pale and cold, but his mind was unusually clear. After washing briefly, he stepped toward his herb field. The Moonlight Grass shone faintly blue, its leaves trembling when he touched the soil. The Spirit Bamboo stood firm, drawing Qi from the air with stubborn vitality.
He watered what needed watering, adjusted a few roots, checked the moisture of the Blooddew vines, then stepped back.
He had no way to protect the field while he was away. Low-grade defensive arrays required spirit stones he did not have, and since No one can come to the peak without his Master's permission, he decided to just let it be. The large formations over Abyssal Mind Peak existed to contain the malicious aura beneath the mountain—touching them carelessly would alarm his Master right away.
So he simply tightened the straps of his satchel, took his iron sword, and left.
The gloomy fog of Abyssal Mind Peak clung to the cliffs as he descended. The oppressive pressure that usually weighed on his mind gradually thinned the farther he walked. By the time he stepped past the range where the tomb's influence ended, his head felt startlingly light—almost hollow in comparison.
His spirit sense seemed to stretch further, no longer crushed under the peak's strange aura. The sudden freedom left him momentarily dazed, as though he had grown used to carrying a heavy rock without noticing. Now released, every breath felt sharper.
He could not tell if this sensation would last, but for now, it was refreshing.
Azure Edge Peak—Sword Peak—stood tall in the distance, its ridges sharp like blades against the morning sky. As he neared its base, the difference became obvious.
Disciples walked about freely in groups of twos and threes. Some carried swords, some held bundles of talismans, others chatted while heading up the mountain. A few simple stalls lined the walkway—outer disciples selling low-grade talismans, sword oil, or small bottles of salve.
Luo Yun watched quietly. He hadn't seen this many people gathered together since arriving at the sect. The liveliness made him feel somewhat out of place.
He continued upward. Several disciples glanced at him, seeing an unfamiliar figure.
He ignored the looks and climbed steadily.
By the time he reached the outer disciples' training grounds, the sun had fully risen. The practice field was broad and paved with stone tiles. Several pavilions stood to the side, likely lecture halls and storage rooms.
About fifty disciples gathered in orderly rows, watching an elder in deep-blue robes. Luo Yun arrived quietly at the back, listening.
The elder explained basic theory first—Qi circulation, stability of stance, and avoiding unnecessary force when beginning sword training. Afterward, he demonstrated a simple sword technique.
"Returning Wind Slash," the elder said calmly.
He executed the move once. The strike was clean, the air stirring faintly around his blade. No attribute Qi, no overwhelming momentum—just a pure foundational cut.
The disciples began practicing in groups. Luo Yun watched intently. Their movements were imperfect, but the general structure was clear. It was far easier to understand after seeing fifty people attempt it compared to practicing alone in isolation.
When the session ended and the disciples dispersed, Luo Yun approached the elder.
He bowed and said, "Disciple Luo Yun. Sent by the Abyssal Mind Peak Master. I was told to join the outer disciple training."
The elder froze briefly, shock flickering through his features, then looked at Luo Yun more carefully, as though seeing him for the first time.
"…Follow me."
He said nothing else and led Luo Yun to a small courtyard. From there, he summoned a flying artifact—a brass platform large enough for two people to stand upon.
"Step on."
The platform rose smoothly. Wind rushed past them as they ascended. The speed was astonishing. Luo Yun estimated it would take two or three hours on foot, yet they reached the upper region of
Azure edge peak in less than ten minutes.
Sword Qi grew thicker the higher they traveled. Luo Yun felt tiny pricks against his spirit sense—mild but clear.
They landed before a white stone courtyard. In its center was a grand cave residence with elegant carvings along the entrance. Elder Jian sent a voice transmission talisman inside.
After the time it took to drink a cup of tea, the doors opened.
A calm, gentle voice drifted out. "Enter."
Inside, the residence was majestic without being gaudy. The hall was vast, lit by natural light reflecting off polished stone surfaces. Two long walls were lined with swords—some ancient, some new, each suspended behind thin layers of protective light.
At the far end sat a woman in simple robes. Her expression was serene, but her eyes carried age, sharpness, and the kind of presence that naturally commanded respect.
Luo Yun's gaze accidentally met hers.
A sharp, slicing sensation struck his mind—thin as a thread, but painfully precise. He immediately lowered his eyes, a faint tremor in his breath.
Elder Jian stepped forward, saluted, and explained, "Peak Leader, this disciple bears Abyssal Peak's token. He claims to have been instructed by the Peak Master to join our training."
He recounted the details briefly. The Peak Leader listened without expression.
"You may leave," she said softly.
Elder Jian bowed and exited the hall, leaving Luo Yun alone.
He remained still, not daring to lift his gaze.
The woman's voice was gentle, melodious, but edged like a hidden blade.
"So… Senior Martial Brother of Abyssal Mind Peak sent you here."
Her tone held faint curiosity, as though she found the situation amusing.
She examined him a little longer.
"Three months, and you reached the First Layer of Qi Condensation with fake roots. For your circumstances, that is commendable."
Luo Yun's ears warmed.
"I have received your master's message. You may start training with the outer disciples tomorrow. I will inform Elder Ming to guide you appropriately."
Her voice shifted slightly.
"You may go."
Luo Yun bowed again, backed away respectfully, and exited.
Elder waited outside. After a brief, quiet exchange with the Peak Leader, he joined Luo Yun and once again activated the flying platform.
On the descent, he explained general matters calmly.
"Sword sessions begin shortly after sunrise. Be on time."
He continued, "Elder Jing must've given you all other instructions,"
Luo Yun nodded.
"That's all. There are several other sessions for new disciples- you can check them at main hall. They are mostly weekly or once in ten days or so. I'll guide you on basics now and you can start training from tomorrow."
When they reached the middle of the mountain, Elder Jian demonstrated some basic stances and footwork to him.
"Focus on stability. Practice slowly at first."
After giving these final instructions, he walked away.
..
At a quiet spot, he tested Sword Qi by focusing his spirit sense on a wisp drifting in the air. It immediately sharpened and pierced toward his consciousness. The pressure grew rapidly, forcing him to retreat after only a few minutes.
The lingering pain in his mind was not pleasant.
But his spirit sense felt clearer, more responsive. The effect would significantly increase his cultivation efficiency.
After that he entered the main hall of Azure edge peak.
He moved closer and read through the stone slab in earnest. Most of the listings were straightforward foundation courses—daily morning sword forms, standing meditation rounds, and the regular qi circulation guidance held every three days. Weekly spell demonstrations covered simple techniques like Fireball, Light Screen, Wind Step, and Ice Cone, each meant to keep new disciples from straying in their early practice. Every ten days, a broader Dao lecture was offered in the outer hall, open to anyone who cared to sit and listen.
Below these were the optional classes marked with small contribution-point symbols. Basic talisman brush lessons and array inscription sessions appeared regularly, each costing a few points. Body Strengthening Drill Sessions demanded more—they provided medicinal ointments and spirit-fed training tools, which explained the contribution fee. And near the bottom, etched in slightly sharper characters, were the advanced sword courses: access to the Sword Intent Pressure Chambers, higher-level footwork drills, and monthly combat instruction from senior sword captains. These required far more points and came with stern warnings about injuries and personal responsibility.
Compared to the grand image he once imagined of an immortal sect, the board felt surprisingly practical—quiet, organized, and methodical. Everything here existed to shape raw recruits into capable cultivators, one small class at a time.
After carefully choosing several classes, by late afternoon, he began descending toward Abyssal Mind Peak.
When he arrived at his cave, the herbs glowed softly in the dim light. He stood in the center and practiced what elder taught him.
Compared to Flowing Cloud Edge, it was straightforward—basic sword moves, for foundation building. Just precision, breath, and repetition.
Still, the simplicity made it unforgiving. After a long session, his arms were sore. He set down his sword, breathing lightly.
He took a bath in the spring.
And then cultivated using the adjustments his master had taught him the previous day. His spirit sense guided the Qi more steadily now, flowing through his meridians with greater ease.
When he finally stopped, night had settled across the peak.
He lay down and closed his eyes. A cultivator no longer needed much sleep, but natural rest benefitted the mind.
Tomorrow, he would begin his formal sword training. And magic spells.