Zhenwu Mountain was not always called Zhenwu Mountain.
In the past, it bore another name—
Shenjian Mountain.
And the former master of Shenjian Mountain was none other than the Divine Sword Old Man.
Decades ago, Dragon Mountain Daoist traveled the martial world and arrived here by chance. For reasons long forgotten, he clashed with the Divine Sword Old Man. The old man's temper was famously fiery, and the dispute quickly escalated.
In the end, the Divine Sword Old Man personally proposed a wager.
If he lost, Shenjian Mountain would belong to Dragon Mountain Daoist.
Unexpectedly—
He was indeed one move short.
Defeated.
Dragon Mountain Daoist tried to decline, unwilling to seize another man's foundation.
But the Divine Sword Old Man kept his word. Without hesitation, he left Shenjian Mountain with his followers.
Left with no other choice, Dragon Mountain Daoist rebuilt the True Martial Sect upon Shenjian Mountain, and from then on, the mountain was renamed Zhenwu Mountain.
Yet the matter did not end there.
The Divine Sword Old Man could not swallow that defeat.
After witnessing the rise of the True Martial Sect, he founded the Divine Sword Sect in open rivalry. The two then made a pact—
Every ten years, the Divine Sword Old Man would come to Zhenwu Mountain and challenge Dragon Mountain Daoist.
If he won, he would reclaim the mountain.
Thus began the entanglement between the two sects.
However, the difference between the two had become increasingly clear.
Dragon Mountain Daoist's aptitude was superior. Decades ago, the Divine Sword Old Man had only lost by one move. But now, Dragon Mountain Daoist had reached Core Formation Perfection, with one foot already stepping into the Heavenly Human Realm.
Meanwhile, the Divine Sword Old Man had only recently entered Core Formation.
In every previous ten-year duel—
He had left in defeat.
Yet without exception, he always came as promised.
Thinking of this, Ning Qi could not help but smile.
In his view, his Master and the Divine Sword Old Man were likely close friends in the past. It was simply that the old man's temper was too proud, and his heart could not let go of face.
Now that the Divine Sword Old Man had arrived once again to fulfill the pact, Ning Qi, as a True Disciple of the True Martial Sect, naturally needed to show himself.
His steps were light and steady, hands clasped behind his back, carrying himself like a miniature adult.
Behind him followed Heavenly Born.
The white ape wore a Daoist robe. His exposed fur was snow-white, his eyes clear and spirited, giving off an innate sense of divinity. Standing together, both master and disciple appeared extraordinary in their own way.
At this moment, the disciples of the True Martial Sect had already gathered. One by one, the True Disciples also arrived.
"Is that Ninth Uncle-Master?"
"He's so young… probably only seven or eight. Has he even stepped into the Martial Dao yet?"
Some newly inducted third-generation disciples whispered curiously.
They were surprised to see the usually mischievous white ape now standing so obediently behind Ning Qi.
Meanwhile, second-generation disciples greeted Ning Qi warmly, addressing him as Ninth Brother.
Ning Qi smiled and nodded in response.
The True Martial Sect was united, with few internal conflicts. Thanks to the improved Body Tempering Powder created by Ning Qi, the sect's foundation had already begun to show results—every Body Tempering Realm disciple far surpassed their peers.
"Greetings, Master, and Senior Brothers and Sisters."
Ning Qi stepped forward and bowed respectfully.
Heavenly Born followed suit.
Dragon Mountain Daoist stroked his beard and smiled.
Luo Wentian and the others also smiled. Over the past year, aside from special occasions, they rarely saw Ning Qi and had missed him.
"Little Nine, you've grown taller again."
Fifth Brother Jiang Baishan laughed.
"Yes, that little brat from before is really growing up fast."
Everyone sighed.
It felt as though Ning Qi had only just been carried up Zhenwu Mountain yesterday, yet in the blink of an eye, five years had passed.
Soon after—
Eighth Senior Brother Qin Yun arrived.
He first apologized to Dragon Mountain Daoist, then greeted his fellow disciples with a smile.
Over the past two years, Qin Yun had cultivated with increasing intensity, almost to the point of obsession.
His gaze landed on Ning Qi, and he smiled faintly.
"Little Nine, you're here."
In his heart, however, he felt unsettled.
He could not discern Ning Qi's depth at all.
Ning Qi smiled back.
"I thought I was diligent enough, but I didn't expect Eighth Senior Brother to arrive even later than me."
Qin Yun sighed helplessly.
"No choice. If aptitude isn't enough, one can only make up for it with effort."
Dragon Mountain Daoist frowned slightly.
Recently, his focus had been entirely on breaking through to the Heavenly Human Realm. Sect affairs were handled by Luo Wentian, and he had paid little attention to the other disciples.
Now that he heard this, he realized Qin Yun's cultivation might be more excessive than he imagined.
The Martial Dao required perseverance—but also balance.
He decided to speak with Qin Yun later.
With Qin Yun's aptitude, which was not inferior to his own, there was no need to rush. If he followed a steady path, his future achievements would surely surpass his Master's.
As for Ning Qi—
He was different.
Dragon Mountain Daoist knew that this youngest disciple could not be measured by common sense.
While these thoughts passed through his mind—
Movement suddenly came from below the mountain.
Everyone turned their gaze.
Figures clad in tight-fitting clothes, each carrying a long sword, sped up the mountain like flying blades. Their footwork treated rugged terrain as flat ground, and sharp sword intent radiated from their bodies.
"So that's the Divine Sword Step created by the Divine Sword Old Man."
Ning Qi nodded inwardly.
Observing the subtle changes within the movement, inspiration stirred in his heart. Everything he saw became nourishment for his growth.
Dragon Mountain Daoist laughed and stepped forward.
"Divine Sword Senior Brother truly keeps his word. Never early, never late."
A cold snort answered him.
"Dragon Mountain Daoist, stop talking nonsense."
Some True Martial Sect disciples showed displeasure, but Dragon Mountain Daoist merely smiled. He was well aware of the old man's temperament.
Ning Qi looked ahead.
A robust old man strode forward, his vitality overflowing. His gaze was sharp, and a massive sword rested on his back—wider and longer than ordinary swords, radiating dominance.
It was the Divine Sword Old Man.
Behind him stood the disciples of the Divine Sword Sect.
They were dressed neatly, sword intent sharp and upright. Yet their gazes toward the True Martial Sect were openly hostile.
Ning Qi found that expression familiar.
It was the look of someone whose toy had been taken by another—and who lacked the strength to reclaim it.
However—
One person stood out.
A fair-skinned, chubby little fatty, also carrying a sword. He looked around curiously, nose running, eyes dull yet strangely bright.
When he met Ning Qi's gaze, his eyes lit up.
He giggled foolishly.
A senior brother beside him quickly pulled him back.
Ning Qi returned a faint smile.
"Divine Sword Senior Brother. Ten years unseen, yet your demeanor remains unchanged."
Dragon Mountain Daoist sighed.
The Divine Sword Old Man's expression softened slightly. He studied Dragon Mountain Daoist carefully and felt a faint shock—he could already barely perceive the other's depth.
Unable to hold back, he asked,
"You've taken that step?"
Dragon Mountain Daoist shook his head.
"Still a little short."
Silence followed.
After a moment, the Divine Sword Old Man spoke bitterly,
"You old Daoist… you've lived quite comfortably on Zhenwu Mountain."
Dragon Mountain Daoist smiled.
"Thanks to Senior Brother, it truly is a blessed land."
The Divine Sword Old Man's face darkened.
He always felt that this man was infuriatingly calm.
He snorted coldly.
"Don't get smug. Zhenwu Mountain is only temporarily in your care."
Dragon Mountain Daoist chuckled.
"If Senior Brother wishes it returned, I will leave immediately and find another mountain."
"Enough!"
The Divine Sword Old Man roared.
"Don't give me that tone! I've lived my life without needing charity. Since I lost back then, I accept it. If I take it back, it will be by my own strength!"
"Dragon Mountain Daoist, are you afraid you can't beat me, so you want to surrender early?"
"I tell you—impossible!"
"You haven't forgotten the ten-year pact, have you?"
His hair bristled with fury, aura surging.
Behind him, the Divine Sword Sect disciples straightened, sword intent rising.
The challenge—
Had officially begun