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CHAPTER 24: He Is Gone

  CHAPTER 24

  In recent days, the Heavenly Sword Sect had grown increasingly lively.

  As the days passed and the Inner Sect selection drew closer, the atmosphere within the Outer Sect became more and more animated. Only two days remained.

  Two days.

  For most Outer Sect disciples, this was the most anticipated time of the year. Not everyone had the chance to step into the Inner Sect, but when it came to watching the spectacle, gossiping, and making wild guesses, there was never a shortage of enthusiastic participants.

  The front of the Council Hall was no exception today.

  Murmurs of discussion filled the air without pause.

  A massive jade stele stood before the steps of the hall, its surface emitting a faint spiritual glow. Carved upon it was the list of disciples qualified to participate in this year’s Inner Sect selection.

  Every name shone faintly.

  And today, a new name had appeared on that stele.

  Han Dengling.

  Yet at the same time, another name had vanished.

  Yang Feng.

  Such a small change might seem insignificant, but to the Outer Sect it was like a stone cast into a calm lake. Rumors spread instantly, so quickly that within half a day they had already reached every corner of the Outer Sect.

  “Did he leave the sect?”

  “Probably too ashamed and ran away.”

  “I heard the Sect Master personally expelled him.”

  “A Mortal Foundation cultivator daring to dream of the Inner Sect? Cultivating such a crooked path… it would be stranger if he wasn’t kicked out.”

  “Maybe he’s already dead.”

  One rumor followed another, each adding a little embellishment, until countless bizarre versions of the story began circulating.

  Amid the crowd that would not stop talking, Han Dengling stood quietly before the jade stele.

  His gaze rested upon his own name.

  Han Dengling.

  Realm: Foundation

  Foundation Type: Heaven Foundation.

  The characters shimmered beneath the spiritual glow, clearer and more prominent than any name around them.

  The corner of his lips lifted slightly.

  A thought full of confidence, almost arrogance, passed silently through his mind.

  Heaven Foundation.

  Among everyone on this list, who could possibly be more worthy than him?

  Han Dengling gave a faint smile, a trace of self-satisfaction flashing through his eyes.

  “A heaven-chosen talent like me…”

  “Peak Master Leng will certainly take notice.”

  In his mind, everything already seemed predetermined.

  Becoming the fifth disciple of One-Sword Peak was only a matter of time.

  His hand slowly tightened into a fist.

  His imagination drifted even further.

  Life at One-Sword Peak.

  Cultivating alongside the famous senior sisters of the peak.

  Training in swordsmanship every day, receiving guidance, becoming the next rising seed of the Heavenly Sword Sect.

  Just the thought of it made a strange sense of exhilaration rise within him.

  To most Outer Sect disciples, the situation already seemed obvious.

  Originally, the list had included Yang Feng.

  But now that name had disappeared.

  And the one who replaced him was Han Dengling.

  This speculation only grew stronger because for nearly three weeks now, no one had seen Yang Feng anywhere in the Outer Sect.

  “That Yang Feng fellow is probably dead in some corner.”

  “Exactly. No one’s seen him for more than two weeks.”

  “I heard he lost control of his spiritual power during a mission. Not surprising if he died.”

  “I heard something different. They say he exploited the contribution exchange system and hid inside the Ninefold Qi Refining Tower every day, cultivating like a madman just to rush to Foundation and run away from the sect.”

  “Hah… he must’ve fled to avoid punishment.”

  Two Outer Sect disciples sat at a teahouse in the courtyard, sipping tea while discussing the rumors with great enthusiasm, as though they were sharing an entertaining story.

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  No one truly cared about the truth.

  As long as the story was interesting, that was enough.

  Not far away, beneath the arched walkway near the Healing Pavilion, a lone figure leaned against a wooden pillar.

  Ou Bakang.

  His arms were folded across his chest as he silently watched the crowd gathered before the jade stele.

  In his eyes, the entire scene looked like nothing more than a stage play.

  The corner of his lips curved slightly, as if he had just witnessed a rather amusing performance.

  In the blink of an eye, two days had passed.

  The day of the Heavenly Sword Sect’s Inner Sect selection had finally arrived.

  The rear courtyard of the Council Hall contained a vast martial platform, a place normally used to evaluate disciples’ qualifications or for elders to test newly comprehended martial techniques.

  Today, however, it was far more lively than usual.

  Above the martial platform, a high viewing stand surrounded the arena. A long row of seats had already been arranged there, reserved for those of authority within the sect: the Peak Masters, the elders, and those who held the power to decide the fate of the disciples standing below.

  At the center seat sat Grand Elder Wu Zhixiang, who had arrived early.

  His gaze rested upon the martial platform beneath, unable to conceal a trace of anticipation.

  This year’s list contained two Heaven Foundation cultivators.

  Han Dengling.

  And Ding Renliang.

  These two names were the most closely watched seeds of this selection.

  Aside from the Grand Elder, the viewing stand also held the presence of several Peak Masters.

  Azure Cloud Peak.

  Blazing Flame Peak.

  Mystic Array Peak.

  Spirit Herb Peak.

  Only one seat remained empty.

  The seat of One-Sword Peak.

  Once everyone had taken their seats, the assessment officially began.

  One by one, the disciples whose names were on the list stepped onto the martial platform.

  The three assessment categories had already been announced beforehand.

  First.

  Physical examination.

  Each disciple had to step into a gravity formation and endure five times normal gravity for a fixed period of time. This test measured the foundation of the body.

  Second.

  Combat.

  Each participant would face an experienced Inner Sect disciple in a sparring match to evaluate their reactions, swordsmanship, and ability to adapt during battle.

  Third.

  Spiritual power control.

  This test was meant for those who possessed talent in other disciplines such as formations, talisman arts, geomancy, or alchemy.

  Mystic Array Peak paid particular attention to this category.

  Spirit Herb Peak did as well.

  One after another, the participants completed their assessments.

  Some earned nods of approval from the elders.

  Some merely reached the minimum requirement.

  Some caused faint murmurs to ripple through the viewing stand.

  Yet the person everyone had been waiting for had still not appeared.

  Until the final name was called.

  “Han Dengling.”

  From the waiting hall, Han Dengling stepped forward.

  His demeanor was calm, his eyes filled with almost absolute confidence.

  Step by step, he walked onto the martial platform with steady footing.

  At this moment, there was only one thought in his mind.

  Today was the day he would enter the Inner Sect.

  He lifted his head and looked toward the viewing stand above.

  But after only a brief moment, his gaze suddenly froze.

  The seat of One-Sword Peak.

  Was empty.

  No one sat there.

  Leng Wuqing was not present.

  A trace of confusion flickered across his eyes.

  At that moment, from the viewing stand above, the Peak Master of Mystic Array Peak, Ou Wuji, slowly spoke.

  “There is no need to concern yourself with that.”

  “Simply show us everything you are capable of.”

  He looked down toward the martial platform.

  “All four of our peaks wish to see your ability.”

  “As long as you possess true talent and perform well…”

  “You may choose to join any one of the four peaks.”

  The moment those words fell, Han Dengling was startled.

  Four peaks?

  Not One-Sword Peak?

  An uneasy feeling immediately rose within his chest.

  He cupped his hands and bowed slightly.

  “May I ask… has Peak Master Leng been delayed?”

  Ou Wuji shook his head.

  “No.”

  “Peak Master Leng will not be coming.”

  The martial platform suddenly fell silent.

  Han Dengling froze.

  Ou Wuji continued, his tone calm, as though he were speaking of something perfectly ordinary.

  “She has already chosen a disciple for One-Sword Peak.”

  “So today, the rest of us will select from among you.”

  A wave of commotion immediately rose from the spectators.

  Han Dengling’s eyes widened.

  In his mind, only a single thought remained.

  Impossible.

  It couldn’t possibly be anyone but him.

  He quickly asked again.

  “Then… isn’t it Ding Renliang?”

  “No.”

  Ou Wuji replied.

  “He has already joined Azure Cloud Peak.”

  The answer fell.

  Han Dengling’s heart suddenly began to pound.

  The words slipped out of his mouth almost instinctively.

  “Then… then who?”

  “Who was chosen for One-Sword Peak?”

  Ou Wuji looked at him.

  The corner of the elder’s lips curved slightly.

  “You truly don’t know?”

  He spoke slowly.

  “It is someone… who is not on this list.”

  A brief silence followed.

  Then the name was spoken.

  “Yang Feng.”

  The entire martial platform fell silent.

  Han Dengling stood frozen where he was.

  That name was like an invisible blade, cutting straight through every fantasy he had built over the past three weeks.

  Yang Feng.

  The person the Outer Sect had been gossiping about for days.

  The one everyone believed had disappeared.

  The one he had been certain was already replaced.

  And yet.

  The one who had been replaced.

  Was him.

  At that very moment.

  Thousands of li northwest of the Heavenly Sword Sect.

  A colossal gray tiger was racing across a vast grassland like a raging storm. Its massive body resembled a living boulder, powerful muscles rippling beneath thick fur streaked with black stripes like torn shadows of night. Every bound sent fierce winds sweeping across the grass, the entire plain rippling like waves behind it.

  Within only a few breaths, hundreds of zhang vanished behind them.

  The tiger’s eyes were deep and cold, faint spiritual light glimmering within them.

  It was an Umbral Spirit Tiger.

  A spiritual beast renowned for its speed.

  Upon the back of that enormous tiger rode two figures.

  Seated in the front was a young woman. She wore a wide-brimmed bamboo hat that shaded her face, the brim lowered so far that nearly half her features were hidden. Her clothing was simple—white robes trimmed with black, entirely without ornament or decoration—yet the aura around her was as cold as morning frost atop a mountain peak.

  The person behind her was far younger.

  A young man dressed in black, with a dark green cloak fluttering wildly in the wind.

  He was… holding tightly onto her waist.

  Not out of intimacy.

  But because… he was afraid of falling.

  Yang Feng was practically pressed against her back, both arms wrapped tightly around his master’s waist as though clinging to a pillar amid a raging storm.

  The wind howled past his ears like blades.

  He trembled as he muttered,

  “Master… slower… slower!”

  Leng Wuqing’s voice drifted back from the front, as calm and cold as ever.

  “You are a sword cultivator.”

  “And yet you fear speed?”

  Before he could respond—

  She lightly pressed her heel forward.

  The Umbral Spirit Tiger released a low growl as its body suddenly accelerated again.

  The grassland below blurred into a streak of green.

  “A—A—A—!”

  Yang Feng tightened his grip instantly.

  “I’m going to die—your disciple is going to die!!”

  The two riders atop the tiger remained focused entirely on the journey ahead.

  Leng Wuqing seemed entirely unconcerned with the excessive closeness between them.

  And Yang Feng…

  Did not dare loosen his hold in the slightest.

  Under the fading light of the descending sunset,

  two figures and one tiger

  flickered in and out of sight amid the roaring winds of the grassland.

  Far ahead,

  the towering walls of Fenglong City had begun to appear along the horizon.

  No one knew why Yang Feng and Leng Wuqing were here.

  But the answer…

  began six days earlier.

  Inside the Sect Master’s Hall.

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