"Non-competitors, clear the arena! Participating cultivators, take your positions!"
It took a few minutes for both sides' "support teams," fellow disciples there for moral support and last-minute advice, to file out through the passages on either side of the circular platform. The two fighters moved toward the center of the arena.
They stopped about fifty meters apart, facing each other.
The atmosphere shifted. The crowd's chatter died down to expectant silence. Even Alexei found himself leaning forward slightly, caught up in the tension. It reminded him of watching sports back on Earth, except instead of people kicking a ball around, these guys were about to try to beat each other unconscious with supernatural martial arts.
It was definitely an upgrade.
Moments after both fighters settled into their stances, a ring of golden runes flared to life around the arena's edge, then faded back to a dull glow.
"Barrier formation," Qingxue said quietly, noticing his curious look. "It's used to contain stray techniques and protect the audience, so spectators don't get hurt by accident."
Both fighters looked like body cultivators based on their build and equipment. The Iron Sword disciple wore grey robes and carried a straight sword. The Heartseeker cultivator was in dark blue with minimal armor, and his hands were wrapped in cloth bindings.
Different specializations, probably. Sword versus hand-to-hand.
The referee, an older man in yellow robes marked with the insignia of the Immortal Alliance, stood at the edge of the platform with a small bell in hand.
"Representing the Iron Sword Sect, Lu Cheng, twenty-seven years old!" the commentator announced. "Representing the Heartseeker Sect, Li Sheng, twenty-nine!"
"Both competitors have confirmed their understanding of the rules. Victory will be decided by surrender, incapacitation, or ringout. Killing blows are forbidden and will result in immediate disqualification and possible criminal charges. Fighters, prepare yourselves."
Both men dropped into combat stances.
"BEGIN!"
CLANG!
The bell's ring was still echoing when both cultivators exploded into motion, closing the gap in seconds.
Cheng's sword flashed out in a straight thrust aimed at Sheng's throat.
Sheng reacted quickly. Golden runes flared along his forearms as he deflected the blade with one hand while his other fist drove toward Cheng's ribs.
BOOM!
They separated from the first exchange, both sliding backward across the arena floor. A visible shockwave of displaced air rippled outward from where they'd clashed.
Neither looked particularly hurt.
"WHAT AN OPENING!" the commentator roared. "Both fighters testing each other's speed and power! Cheng's thrust was textbook Iron Sword form, notice the minimal wasted motion! And Sheng's counter shows why Heartseeker disciples are feared in close quarters!"
Cheng didn't wait. The moment his feet touched ground, he pushed off again, his sword leaving multiple afterimages as he accelerated.
The technique was fast. Alexei could barely track the blade's movement.
Sheng's expression turned serious. His hands moved in complex patterns, fingers tracing symbols in the air. More golden runes ignited across his arms and legs.
"Cheng's signature rapid-strike style!" the commentator explained. "The Iron Sword Sect trains their disciples to execute seventeen strikes in the time it takes a normal cultivator to deliver three! But Sheng isn't backing down, those are Heartseeker's Thirty-Six Points of Light talismans! Each rune marks a vital point he's protecting!"
The sword came in like a steel hurricane.
Sheng wove through the storm of strikes, blocking, deflecting, his arms barely keeping pace with the barrage. Sparks flew where sword met reinforced flesh. The sound was like a blacksmith's forge in overdrive.
To an ordinary person, both fighters would've been blurs. Even to Alexei, they were moving fast enough that he was catching maybe one strike in three.
"This is insane," he muttered.
"This is Foundation Establishment," Qingxue replied. "Mid-stage, specifically. Watch closely. You can learn from observing their techniques."
The assault continued for what felt like forever but was probably less than a minute. Cheng pressed forward relentlessly, his sword technique forcing Sheng to give ground step by step toward the arena's edge.
From the spectator seats, gasps and shouts of alarm rose with each near-miss.
But Alexei noticed something. Every few exchanges, there'd be a flash of golden light from Sheng's hands that wasn't quite the same as his defensive talismans.
The Iron Sword supporters in the stands were shouting encouragement, completely missing whatever Sheng was planning. Then Cheng committed to a full-power strike. His sword came down in a vertical slash.
Sheng dodged at the last possible second, and the blade grazed his cheek, drawing a thin line of blood.
"FIRST BLOOD to Iron Sword Sect!" the commentator called. "But wait—"
Sheng was smiling.
His hands came together in a sharp clap that rang across the arena. The sword, still extended from its downward slash, was caught between his palms.
CRACK.
"He's caught the blade! HEARTSEEKER'S VIPER GRIP!"
Power flooded through Sheng's body, from his planted feet, through his core, into his arms. The runes along his limbs blazed brilliant gold.
Cheng's eyes widened as he felt the overwhelming force. His sword twisted in his grip like it was made of clay. Sheng wrenched the blade to the side, throwing Cheng completely off balance.
The Iron Sword disciple tumbled through the air, his body spinning from the momentum.
That's when Sheng bit through his own index finger.
Blood welled up, and he used it like ink, his other hand tracing complex patterns in the air as he moved. A trail of blood-red runes formed, hovering in mid-air where he'd drawn them.
"Blood Talisman technique!" the commentator's voice had gone up an octave. "This is high-level Heartseeker art! Sheng is painting with his own life force!"
"Move!" Sheng roared.
The runes at his feet flared. The stone beneath his stance cracked like a spider web.
And he moved.
It wasn't quite teleportation, but it was close. One moment he was ten meters away, the next he was right beside the still-spinning Cheng, his fist cocked back and wreathed in crimson light.
Cheng saw it coming. Acting on instinct and training alone, he drove his sword into the arena floor to halt his spin. His feet hit the ground and slid with the remaining momentum as he tried to raise a knee to block.
Clatter-clank-clank.
The sword rattled and scraped across the stone.
Dark gold chains made of hardened qi erupted from the ground, wrapping around his lower leg.
"What... when did he..."
That's what the golden flashes had been. Sheng had been laying trap talismans during the entire sword exchange, disguised among his defensive techniques.
Cheng yanked his leg upward. The chains started to break, but too slowly.
His guard was wide open.
Sheng's fist drove into Cheng's upper abdomen.
BOOM!!!
The binding chains on Cheng's leg shattered like glass. His body folded inward like a cheap lawn chair, spittle and blood flying from his mouth as every bit of air was driven from his lungs.
Then he was airborne.
His body slammed into the arena floor, bounced once, hit again, then bounced higher before striking a third time. It tumbled end over end for another ten meters and finally slid to a stop at the very edge of the platform.
The crowd went berserk.
Cheering, shouting, some people literally jumping up and down in their seats.
Alexei almost joined them. He caught himself halfway through raising his fist to cheer and forced his arm back down.
"Holy shit."
Cheng was still technically conscious, his eyes were open and he was making sounds, but he clearly wasn't getting up. Every attempt to move just made his face contort in agony. That hit had probably cracked ribs, maybe ruptured something internal.
The referee was already moving, checking on the downed fighter while gesturing for medical personnel.
"VICTORY TO HEARTSEEKER SECT!" the commentator declared. "What an incredible reversal! Cheng controlled ninety percent of that match, and then Sheng turned it around with one perfectly executed trap! THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is why you never count a Heartseeker disciple out until they're unconscious!"
Alexei was grinning like an idiot. "That was amazing. Qingxue, what stage did you say they were?"
"Foundation Establishment, mid-stage."
"Just mid-stage?" He'd been expecting something higher based on how brutal that fight was. "I thought they were, like, Nascent Soul or something."
"For their age, reaching mid-Foundation Establishment is quite impressive," Qingxue said. She seemed genuinely approving. "Most cultivators take decades to reach that point. These two are both under thirty."
"So which one did you think would win?"
"The Heartseeker disciple," she said without hesitation. "His fighting style was defensive, patient. The moment I saw him start placing hidden talismans, the outcome was decided. Cheng's technique was superior, but Sheng's strategy was better."
Made sense. The sword guy had better moves, but the talisman guy had been playing chess while his opponent was playing checkers.
"What's the difference between them, anyway? They're both body cultivators, right?"
"Yes, but they specialize differently," Qingxue explained. "Cheng is a body-sword cultivator. He strengthens his physical cultivation through sword techniques. Sheng, on the other hand, is a body-talisman cultivator. He uses talismans to enhance his body and set traps."
"Huh," he said. "I always thought talisman users just threw paper at people."
"That's standard talisman cultivation. Body-talisman cultivation incorporates the talismans directly into close combat. It's much rarer."
"And we have someone like that in our sect?"
"Han Cheng is a body-sword cultivator," Qingxue said. "Though he's been in closed-door cultivation for months now. You haven't met him yet."
Down in the arena, medical cultivators were levitating Cheng onto a stretcher. Sheng, meanwhile, looked exhausted, but he was on his feet and accepting congratulations from his sect members who'd rushed back onto the platform.
"Not bad for eight minutes of fighting," Alexei said.
"Most duels at this level are quick," Qingxue replied. "Foundation Establishment cultivators can output tremendous force, but they don't have the qi reserves to sustain it for long. Nascent Soul fights can last hours. Dharma Aspect battles sometimes span days."
"Days?"
"When you have that much power, stamina becomes the deciding factor. But special techniques or bloodlines can change that."
Alexei watched as they carried the injured fighter off and began resetting the arena for the next match.
----------
[POV: Li Yan'er]
Celestial Path Sect's Temporary Quarters.
Yan'er swept the "gifts" from the local noble families off her table with barely concealed disgust.
The spirit fruits clattered across the floor, pathetic Yellow-tier garbage that wouldn't have been worth feeding to her pets back in the capital. She was the daughter of one of the most powerful cultivation families in the Eastern Territories. These provincial idiots thought she'd be impressed by such offerings.
Only cultivators from backwater regions like this would treat common spirit fruits as treasures.
She'd delegated the search for her target to the city's noble families days ago. And what had those men accomplished? Absolutely nothing.
Right now, those same families were tearing the city apart.
The problem was simple: the information Yan'er had provided was maddeningly vague.
All she knew was that her target was a seven-year-old girl named Yi Mengyao, currently living as a beggar, possessing a pure fire-attribute spiritual root.
"Yi" was one of the most common surnames in Verdantree City. They'd only searched a third of the population and had already found 2,353 registered individuals named Yi Mengyao. Of those who met the criteria, there were still 37 possibilities.
But when tested with spirit testing stones, only two showed spiritual roots at all. And both were mixed-element roots.
Yan'er knew that Mengyao would eventually join the Celestial Path Sect, that's how it had gone in her previous life. But knowing that didn't stop the anxiety gnawing at her. Because there was a massive difference between killing a powerless, destitute beggar and killing a once-in-a-millennium genius with an immortal-grade spiritual root.
Once Mengyao's root was detected, her window of opportunity would slam shut. The girl would be under constant protection. Killing her would become impossible for at least a decade.
Unacceptable.
Spiritual root extraction wasn't exactly a secret among the great families. Powerful clans had been transplanting talented children's roots into their own descendants for generations. Everyone knew it happened.
But the Immortal Alliance had explicitly forbidden it.
If a generational prodigy died shortly after joining a sect, people would ask questions. Other sects, rival families, ambitious cultivators looking for ammunition, they'd all start making accusations. The fallout would be catastrophic.
In her previous life, Yan'er had spent years laying groundwork before making her move. She'd destroyed Mengyao's reputation, cultivated her own image as kind and gentle and pure, all while sending assassins that Mengyao somehow survived through sheer ridiculous luck.
Each failure had made Mengyao stronger. Each attempt had delayed her plans.
It had taken a full century before she finally succeeded, luring Mengyao into a secret realm with the help of several disciples, where they'd ambushed her and extracted her spiritual root and Immortal Bone.
Knock knock knock.
"Yan'er?" A warm male voice came through the door. "The afternoon tournament matches are starting soon. Disciples from Celestial Path will be competing. Would you like to attend together?"
Yan'er's scowl instantly transformed into a radiant smile.
"Of course! Just give me a moment~"
She quickly checked her appearance in the bronze mirror, pinching her cheeks to add some color, practicing her most endearing expression until it looked natural.
Only then did she open the door and hurry after the white-robed young man who'd already started walking.
"You didn't even wait for me~" She caught his sleeve, adding just the right amount of pout to her voice.
She knew exactly how to handle Lu Feng. She'd spent enough time manipulating him in her previous life to understand his personality perfectly.
He projected an image of aloof nobility, but really he was just a cultivation-obsessed idiot who acted on impulse and never questioned motives. He'd been the only one who hadn't participated in the ambush on Mengyao back then.
In fact, once she had acquired Mengyao's spiritual root and Immortal Bone, Feng had grown distant from her, as if he'd sensed something wrong on an instinctive level. But right now, he was still useful.
"Come on." Feng extended a hand.
"Ah? Okay!" She grabbed his hand and stepped onto his flying sword.
----------
Yan'er and Feng arrived at the viewing platform just as a match was ending. Not one involving their sect, but she didn't care either way. She had zero interest in watching provincial cultivators fumble through basic techniques.
If not for maintaining her image within the sect, she wouldn't have bothered coming at all.
Down in the arena, both fighters were gasping for breath.
A few minutes later, the match ended with a single whip strike from a woman in lotus-pink robes.
CLANG!
The referee's bell rang. "Match concluded! Victory to Hua Bailu of Hundred Flowers Valley!"
Hundred Flowers Valley was famous for alchemy and maintained good relations with most major sects. After the fight ended, representatives from both sides didn't launch into the usual posturing and verbal sparring. Instead, they chatted amicably beneath the arena, looking quite friendly.
Up on the viewing platform, Feng noticed Yan'er's disinterest and spoke up. "The next match will feature disciples from Celestial Path."
"Ah~ yes!" The sudden voice startled Yan'er out of her scheming. She pursed her lips and forced her attention back to the arena.
But preparations were still underway. They had at least a few more minutes before the fight began. That's when two figures dropped onto the platform.
"We made it in time, right?"
Yan'er turned reflexively toward the voice.
What she saw made her freeze.
A young man stood there with striking silver-white hair and unsettling blue eyes. He wore simple blue-and-white robes that marked him as belonging to a sect she did not recognize. His features were ordinary enough that he would disappear in a crowd, if not for the hair and the eyes.
But it wasn't his appearance that made her pause. It was the woman standing beside him.
Tall, elegant, with an aura that made her instincts scream danger. She wore flowing robes that suggested high rank.
The young man seemed to notice her staring. He glanced over, meeting her gaze.
"Uh, hello," Yan'er managed, caught off-guard. She'd been staring, hadn't she? Rude.
"Hi," the young man said in a tone that suggested he was being polite more than anything else. He didn't seem particularly interested in conversation.
Beside Yan'er, Feng was also studying the newcomers. Acting on instinct, he released a thread of his spiritual sense to probe them. The moment his spiritual sense brushed against the woman, her eyes snapped to him.
A flicker of surprise crossed his usually impassive face.
On the Profound Sky Continent, when a high-level cultivator probed a lower-level one, the weaker cultivator usually couldn't detect it. But when a weaker cultivator probed someone stronger, the response was immediate.
He felt his face heat with embarrassment. He was late-stage Nascent Soul, one of the most powerful cultivators of his generation. He'd probed countless people during his travels. This was the first time he'd encountered someone whose cultivation exceeded his own.
"Please forgive my discourtesy," he said quickly, cupping his hands in formal apology. "I meant no offense."
The woman, he was fairly certain she was at least early Dharma Aspect realm, possibly higher, merely nodded and turned her attention back to her companion.
He stood there awkwardly, his hand halfway to his storage ring where he kept compensatory gifts. He hadn't expected her to let it go so easily. Neither he nor Yan'er were wearing sect robes today, so it wasn't like the woman was intimidated by their affiliation.
After a moment's hesitation, he pulled out a jade box about the size of a human head. Even if the offense was forgiven, proper etiquette demanded compensation. Being remembered by a Dharma Aspect cultivator was not a good thing. Even as the chief disciple of one of the most powerful sects, he knew when to be polite.
If they were equals in realm, he wouldn't spare her a second glance. But facing someone at Dharma Aspect? Even the head of the Lu family would greet them with courtesy and respect.
Just as the woman was about to refuse, the young man beside her reached out and took the box.
"What's inside?" He opened it and peered at the contents.
"Ah, it's nothing particularly precious, just some spirit fruit—"
"Oh, Emerald Cloud Fruit." The young man pulled one out. It resembled an unripe mango. He held it up to the light, examining it. "Qingxue, want to try one? He said it's nothing precious."
"Uh..."
The rest of Feng's sentence died in his throat. The words "mid-grade Earth-tier" never made it past the space between his brain and his mouth.
Qingxue glanced at the fruit in Alexei's hand and shook her head.
After a moment's thought, she realized she had no memory of anything called Emerald Cloud Fruit. But one thing was certain, this wasn't a cultivation-enhancing spirit fruit. There was no pure spiritual energy emanating from it.
Which meant it was probably just fancy produce.
CRUNCH.
"Mm, not bad!" Alexei bit into it without hesitation, juice dripping down his chin. "Bit sour, though."
Qingxue wanted very badly to smack him. She'd specifically told him not to eat unfamiliar spirit fruits whose effects were unknown. And here this walking appetite had already forgotten.
Feng, meanwhile, looked like he was trying very hard not to say something.
"Is there a problem?" Alexei asked around a mouthful of fruit.
"Nothing."
Even Yan'er, who'd spent most of her time looking down on provincial cultivators, felt her eye twitch. She normally ate mid-grade Mystic-tier fruits at most. And here was someone casually devouring a mid-grade Earth-tier fruit like it was a snack. An Emerald Cloud Fruit that only grew in secret realms and cost more than most cultivators earned in years.
This was textbook "wasting heaven's gifts," as the cultivation manuals loved to say.
What kind of absurdly wealthy background did this person have?
Alexei noticed the girl staring at him with an odd expression. He assumed she wanted to try one too, so he pulled out the last Emerald Cloud Fruit from the box and offered it to her.
Qingxue's portion could wait. He had the seeds now anyway. He could grow as many as he wanted.
Yan'er accepted it on reflex before her brain caught up.
"For me?" She sounded shocked.
Alexei shrugged. "The guy said it wasn't particularly precious. Who am I to argue?"
Yan'er's mind raced. Feng's earlier reaction had been that of someone encountering a cultivator far beyond his own realm. That meant the woman was at least at the early Dharma Aspect stage.
And this young man treating priceless spirit fruits like street vendor snacks...
She glanced up at Qingxue, studying her expression for any sign of reluctance or pain at seeing such valuable resources given away.
Nothing. Her face showed the same calm as before, as if watching someone hand out common apples.
Just how wealthy is their sect?
She bit into the Emerald Cloud Fruit. Sweet, juicy, with a pleasant tartness. Just as he'd said. This young man might prove useful. As for his spiritual root, she did not dwell on it. Yes, a powerful cultivator stood behind him. But her family possessed Dharma Aspect cultivators and had two ancestors in the Tribulation Transcendence realm.
She wasn't easily intimidated.
Based on his silver-white hair, he likely had an ice-attribute spiritual root, possibly with an accompanying special physique. But she had a pure fire spiritual root. Even if she transplanted his, without obtaining the accompanying physique, she wouldn't be able to fully utilize its potential. And besides, ice attributes couldn't compare to Mengyao's Immortal Bone, the Nirvana Phoenix Bone, which led directly to immortality.
Her attention had long since drifted from the tournament below. Under her guidance, she began extracting information from Alexei.
The conversation was casual, friendly even. She played the part of a curious junior cultivator perfectly, asking about his sect.
That's when she heard a name that made her pause.
"Aureate Summit Sect."
Her mind went blank for half a second.
The Aureate Summit Sect?
The legendary sect that, a hundred years from now in her original timeline, would annihilate the Ghost Sect in a single campaign?
Which meant this young man in front of her was one of the three disciples who'd reach Nascent Soul by that time. She'd been at late Core Formation after a hundred years, even with massive resources poured into her cultivation. She'd still been an entire major realm away from Nascent Soul.
This person's talent was on par with Mengyao's. And he'd achieved it without a Nirvana Phoenix Bone to boost his cultivation.
Feng had been listening to the conversation as well, though he tried not to be obvious about it.
Aureate Summit Sect?
He'd never heard of it. But if they had Dharma Aspect powerhouses and could produce disciples of this caliber...
Worth investigating. And more importantly, worth making sure the Lu family didn't accidentally make enemies of them.
Down in the arena, the current match was between Celestial Path Sect and Ten Thousand Swords Sect. The battle lasted a full half hour, far more satisfying than the seven-to-eight-minute matches from lower-ranked sects that morning.
There were even flashy sword-control techniques similar to the legendary "Ten Thousand Swords Return to Origin," though this version only used five flying swords total.
"That's a spirit sword cultivator," Qingxue explained quietly when Alexei asked. "Similar to my own path, though their technique is less refined."
Once the match ended, Feng stood and gestured to Yan'er. "We should return. Until next time."
He preferred being around cultivators weaker than himself. Being near a Dharma Aspect expert was making him uncomfortable.
Alexei watched them leave, feeling oddly satisfied with the interaction.
"That girl knew a lot about the tournament," he commented. "I just thought the fights looked cool."
"She's from a major family," Qingxue said. "She would have received extensive education in combat analysis."
"Huh. Makes sense."
---
They stayed until all the day's matches concluded.
Watching cultivators throw each other around with supernatural martial arts, summon flying swords, manipulate elemental qi, it ignited something in Alexei that he'd thought had died after his first few deaths in the murder-forest.
"Qingxue," he said as they left the arena. "I want to cultivate."
The words were out before he could stop them.
Shit. Did I really just say that?
Qingxue turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised slightly. "Oh?"
"I mean... yeah. I want to try properly this time."
Why did I say that? What am I doing?
But it was too late to take it back now.
---
The inter-sect tournament ran day and night for seven full days.
All five first-rank sects were present: Celestial Path, Hundred Flowers Valley, Ten Thousand Swords, Profound Mystery, and Stabilizing Sea.
The first-rank matches concluded that same afternoon, though. There were only fifty-three first- and second-rank sects combined across the entire Eastern Territories, so the schedule moved quickly.
Alexei and Qingxue watched matches for two days before stopping. After a while, even supernatural kung-fu gets repetitive.
And Alexei had other things occupying his time now.
Namely: failing at cultivation.
"Why did I say I wanted to cultivate?" he muttered for the fifteenth time that day. "What possessed me to say something that stupid?"
"Close your eyes and focus your mind," Qingxue instructed patiently. "Use your consciousness to guide the qi. Calm your thoughts, embrace the origin, guard your center..."
Half an hour later, one minor circulation complete, she opened her eyes.
Alexei sat cross-legged on the bed, his mind completely blank, looking utterly lost.
Heaven-and-earth spiritual qi? What the hell was heaven-and-earth spiritual qi?
He hadn't felt anything. He'd just followed along mechanically, and holding his breath for that long had been really uncomfortable.
Qingxue didn't need to ask. His expression said everything.
Still nothing.
"Let's try once more, then rest," she said, unable to believe someone could be this dense to spiritual energy.
Most people with even bad spiritual roots could sense something on their first attempt. But Alexei seemed to have some kind of anti-talent for cultivation.
"Again?" His face fell. "If we do it again, I'm probably going to fall asleep."
"Then don't fall asleep."
"That's not how—"
"Focus, Alexei."
He sighed and closed his eyes.
This is pointless. I'm never going to be able to cultivate. I should just stick to Minecraft mechanics and stop trying to be something I'm not.
But he tried anyway.
Because some stubborn part of him refused to give up completely. Even if that stubborn part was an idiot.
---
Time had a funny way of moving when you weren't paying attention.
Yan had spent the past week at the Alchemy Alliance exchange. Apparently the demonstration this time had been particularly complex. She'd only returned to the inn after the inter-sect competitions had wrapped up.
Based on the smile plastered across her face, she'd learned a lot. Good for her.
Now, a full week after the competitions ended, the crowd at the Spirit Testing Hall had finally thinned out to manageable levels.
Which meant it was Alexei's turn to get his spiritual roots tested.
Early morning, and the entire Aureate Summit Sect delegation had dragged him to queue up at the Immortal Alliance's Spirit Testing Hall.
He stood in line, trying very hard not to think about what was about to happen. He glanced back at his companions: Qingxue looking calm as always, Yan still radiating satisfaction from her conference, Quan giving him an encouraging nod, and Duan with Jianqiang bringing up the rear.
"Alexei!" Duan's voice boomed like thunder, making nearby civilians instinctively cover their ears. "I have faith in you!"
But that wasn't even the worst part. That absolute maniac Jianqiang had somehow acquired a massive banner.
WISHING ALEXEI A DAZZLING DISPLAY OF SPIRITUAL ROOTS!
"See that guy? The one with the weird white hair? That's Alexei!" Jianqiang bellowed to everyone within a fifty-meter radius. "Check it out! Isn't he great?"
"HE IS INVINCIBLE!"
"ALEXEI! MAY YOU ACHIEVE VICTORY FROM THE FIRST STRIKE!"
He waved the banner with what could only be described as violent enthusiasm while making noises that sounded like a wolf being strangled.
Alexei wanted to die. Not figuratively. He genuinely wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. This was worse than public execution. This was worse than that time in middle school when his mother had shown up to parent-teacher conferences drunk.
I could dig a hole to the planet's core with just my toes and the sheer force of my embarrassment...
Standing in front of him in line was a chubby kid dressed in silk robes that screamed "rich family." He had already been nervous, but Jianqiang's antics had drawn so much attention that now everyone was staring at both of them.
The kid's legs were shaking.
Sorry, kid. You're collateral damage.
CREEEAK.
The Spirit Testing Hall's doors opened a crack. A girl about eleven or twelve walked out.
An elderly voice called from inside: "Wang Daya! Five-element mixed spiritual root! Metal 17, Wood 12, Water 15, Fire 21, Earth 27! No sacred body or special physique!"
"Next!"
"Li Changgui!"
The chubby boy's family, standing off to the side, immediately started their own embarrassing display.
"Changgui! The family's glory rests on your shoulders!"
"No matter what happens, you're still my pride!"
"Young Master Changgui! May your immortal path be boundless, spanning past and present, smooth and unobstructed, may you attain the Dao and eternal life!"
Rustle rustle rustle.
The servants rustled as they waved multiple banners in carefully choreographed enthusiasm.
Li Changgui said nothing.
Alexei felt a brief moment of solidarity with the kid. At least his own embarrassment wasn't unique.
The boy took a deep breath and walked into the hall. The doors closed behind him.
Alexei was next.
He tried very hard not to think about what was coming, but he failed completely and thought about it anyway.
Time crawled by with agonizing slowness.
About two minutes later, the doors opened again. The chubby boy emerged with a beaming smile, holding up a jade plaque as he ran to show it to his parents. Many in the crowd cast envious glances. The area gradually quieted as everyone waited for the official announcement.
"Li Changgui! Metal, Water, and Earth, mid-grade Mystic-tier three-element pure spiritual root! Metal 51, Water 45, Earth 39! No sacred body or special physique!"
Changgui's family immediately erupted into tears of joy, hugging each other and sobbing.
"Next!"
"Ale... Aleksai Wokefu!"
"AWOOO!!! ALEXEI! YOU'RE THE BEST!"
"VICTORY FROM THE FIRST STRIKE! A BRILLIANT IMMORTAL PATH!"
Rustle rustle rustle.
The sound of fabric snapping filled the air as flags were waved even more aggressively.
Alexei's eye twitched.
"It's Alexei Volkov," he said, without stopping.
There was a brief pause.
"Alexei Volkov!"
Alexei quickened his pace and crossed the threshold without looking back, desperately trying to pretend he didn't know these people.
The crowd outside watched him go with expressions of anticipation. Because, as much as Alexei hated to admit it, he did stand out. Silver-white hair, unusual eyes, that vague sense of "protagonist energy" that seemed to follow him around despite his best efforts to be ordinary.
Even a dog passing by would probably stop and think: That human will definitely be extraordinary in the future.
How bad could his spiritual roots possibly be? For all anyone knew, he might have one of those legendary once-in-a-millennium immortal-grade roots, or some supreme special physique.
Unlike the previous noisy waiting periods, the crowd had fallen into silence. They held their breath, as if witnessing history in the making. It felt like the birth of a future giant.
No pressure at all...
---
Inside the Spirit Testing Hall.
As Alexei entered, even the elderly man stationed at the entrance froze for a moment.
This was the young man with the unusual appearance that his old friends had been gossiping about for days?
Alexei didn't know it, but his name had already spread among the elderly administrators in the Immortal Alliance branch office. Apparently there wasn't much entertainment for old cultivators, so they'd latched onto him as the latest topic of discussion.
The old man recovered quickly and cleared his throat.
"Go ahead. Just place both hands on the stone stele."
Alexei nodded, took a deep breath, and looked toward the testing monument.
The Spirit Testing Stele stood about seven or eight meters tall, made of black semi-transparent stone. It looked ancient, covered in faint runic patterns.
Here goes nothing.
The distance was only a dozen steps, but each one felt extraordinarily heavy. Like walking to his own execution. Which, given how cultivation worlds usually worked, might not be far off.
He stopped in front of the stele.
Hesitating would just make it worse. He pressed both hands against the cold surface.
The black mirror-like face of the stele rippled, spreading outward in concentric rings. Then the colors started.
Gold. Green. Blue. Red. Brown. Yellow. Black. Indigo. Cyan. Purple. Grey. White.
Twelve distinct colors burst forth from the Spirit Testing Stele, clearly separated, swirling together until they formed what looked like a rainbow nebula inside the stone.
"Damn!"
The elderly gatekeeper's eyes bulged. He blurted out what was probably the first curse word he'd used in centuries, yanking out a handful of his own beard in the process.
"This... this is...!" He couldn't quite get the words out. "Innate Five-Element Spiritual Root?!"
He blinked, looked again, and counted the colors.
"No... this is an Innate Twelve-Element Spiritual Root?!"
"How is that even possible?!"
He'd lived for over a thousand years. He'd seen prodigies, geniuses, once-in-a-generation talents. Furthermore, he'd witnessed the rise and fall of sects, watched empires crumble, and officiated at tests for hundreds of thousands of cultivators.
But this?
Even an Innate Five-Element Spiritual Root, the last one to appear anywhere on the entire Profound Sky Continent, had been over thirty-seven thousand years ago. It was the stuff of legends. Ancient history that most people assumed was exaggerated.
The slightly more common Innate Dual-Element Spiritual Roots appeared maybe once every few decades if you were lucky.
So what in the world was this twelve-colored rainbow nebula?
The conditions for forming an Innate Spiritual Root were absurdly stringent. Each elemental spiritual root in the body had to occupy an exactly equal proportion. No deviation whatsoever. Not even a fraction of a percentage point.
They were divided into: Innate Single-Element, Innate Dual-Element, Innate Triple-Element, Innate Quadruple-Element, and Innate Five-Element.
Every single one of them cultivated at speeds that made normal geniuses look like they were standing still.
Ordinary multi-element spiritual roots had different aptitude values for each element. It was like inserting pipes of different widths into the same barrel with the same water flow rate. The thinnest pipe might be working at full capacity, but it couldn't compensate for the loss caused by the thicker pipes filling up and leaking simultaneously.
Of course, you'd never see a fire hose and an IV drip in the same body, the differences between a cultivator's various aptitudes were usually within eight points. The largest gap on record had been ten points a few hundred years ago, and even that had caused quite a stir in the Immortal Alliance.
Aptitude rankings were standardized: 1-20 was Mortal-grade, 20-30 Yellow-grade, 30-60 Mystic-grade, 60-80 Earth-grade, 80-100 Heaven-grade, and anything above 100 was Immortal-grade.
Above that was theoretically Saint-grade, but the Spirit Testing Stele couldn't even measure that high.
Innate Spiritual Roots were anomalies among spiritual roots. An Innate root with n elements meant n times the cultivation speed. Because their "barrels" had pipes of equal thickness, only filling, never leaking.
An Innate Five-Element Spiritual Root with just twenty aptitude points in each element would match the cultivation speed of an Immortal-grade single-element root.
And for Innate Spiritual Roots, aside from single-element types having a minimum of sixty aptitude, dual-element and above always had each aptitude fluctuating between at least thirty and eighty.
Logically, if Innate roots existed from one to five elements, higher numbers should theoretically exist too. But in reality, there had never been a single recorded case of anything beyond an Innate Five-Element Root.
The old man's hands were shaking.
Now all that remained was seeing the aptitude values for each element.
But judging purely by the young man's appearance and the purity of his aura, he was clearly no ordinary individual. Each element had to be at least seventy or above.
And that silver-white hair... wasn't that a dead giveaway of possessing a special spiritual physique?
The elder's breathing grew rapid and shallow.
I'm witnessing the birth of an era.
After the nebula on the Spirit Testing Stele spun for more than ten seconds, it finally began to disperse, revealing the numerical readings.
"Here it comes!" The old man held his breath, utterly focused.
[Metal: 1]
"SHIT!!!"
The old man shouted his second curse in a century. His eyes were bloodshot, bulging from their sockets, his face flushed red, and what little hair he had left was standing on end.
"The first digit is a ONE?!"