The Undying Immortal System-Chapter 436 – Life 111, Age 16, Martial Disciple Peak
As the end of the year approached, the Broken Spear Outpost grew crowded. Disciples wearing the robes of unfamiliar sects filled the streets, with each group eager to show off their prowess. The local Bureau was only authorized to promote sects from nine-star to eight-star, but established Eight- and Seven-Star Sects still came to compete for the Bureau’s generous rewards.
With hundreds of young Disciples flooding into the outpost, and only a handful of officials around to keep them in check, disorder and chaos seemed inevitable. However, each of the groups from the Seven-Star Sects was accompanied by a Grandmaster-level elder, and these elders took immense pleasure in putting reckless Disciples in their place. Of course, this could have easily made the city even more volatile, but none of the elders were willing to risk the consequences that would come from overstepping the Saint’s rules.
As dawn broke on the first day of the Heaven’s Ascension Tournament, JiuLi and Meng LuYao revealed what they had been quietly working on for the past several months: five new robes.
Woven from pearlescent green cloth that gleamed like polished jade, these robes carried lines of crimson embroidery that rippled like water in motion, mimicking the rise and fall of waves. With the slightest shift in angle, these waves revealed themselves to be the characters for various weapons—including the sword, saber, ji, and spear—before dissolving back into flowing patterns. Every stroke of this delicate embroidery led to the back, where they circled one solitary character: 刀 — Blade.
Kan and YuLong immediately seized their robes and sprinted off to their rooms to try them on, unable to hide their excitement. I didn’t follow them. I remained where I was, running a hand over my robe while examining the structure of its fibers.
JiuLi’s voice was low with disappointment. “Don’t be fooled by how pretty they look. They’re a failure. With LuYao’s help, I managed to improve upon the Shi Clan’s refining process, but all it did was enhance the hemp’s texture and appearance. They’re still ordinary, mortal robes. Decorative, but not protective.”
Nodding, I pulled a thread of qi from my muscles and wove it into the fabric, studying how the two interacted.
The hemp was no longer just a bundle of short fibers. Each thread had been fused into a single, continuous strand. As JiuLi had said, this didn’t make the robes any sturdier—if anything, it might have made them easier to cut. However, this change allowed qi to flow smoothly along the entire length of a thread without encountering resistance as it moved from one fiber to another.
“After the tournament, we should experiment with replacing this embroidery with proper formations,” I said, running my thumb along the threads. “These conduct qi smoothly enough to contain the energy of Rank 1 formations, and with a few enhancements, they might even be able to handle Rank 2 formations. Fully refined robes would be ideal, especially if we could use Cicada Pills to imbue them with energy, but for now, Rank 2 defensive formations would be more than enough to keep us alive.”
JiuLi lowered her head, voice soft. “I understand. I should have considered that.”
Meng LuYao stepped forward and slapped my shoulder with the back of her hand.
“Right…” I said, blinking. “What I mean is: excellent work. These robes are impressive. They’re a solid foundation that we can build upon in the future.”
Meng LuYao gave a small, measured nod, as if to say, “Acceptable.”
When the five of us stepped outside, our robes shimmered in the morning sun, and for the first time, we looked like a real sect—mostly, at least. In the Heroes Domain, most sects outfitted their disciples with identical weapons, but we had chosen to go a slightly different route.
The weapons strapped to JiuLi’s and Meng LuYao’s backs were classic guandaos, heavy blades fixed to long wooden poles. At a distance, my weapon looked similar, but I had switched out the wooden shaft for one made of metal. YuLong had modified his even further, swapping the curved blade of a guandao for one that more closely resembled a double-edged sword. As for Kan… Kan’s choice barely qualified as a polearm at all. His weapon was more like an oversized saber with delusions of grandeur.
Walking down the outpost’s crowded streets, our large weapons and shimmering robes drew the eye of every young cultivator in the vicinity. Seeing us dressed in elaborate robes that would typically only be worn by the elite members of a powerful sect, their immediate reaction was to bow and slowly back away. However, when they spotted the white sashes at our waists, this caution transformed into confusion and, in some cases, scorn.
We didn’t give these reactions any consideration whatsoever. We knew what we were, and we knew what we would soon become. If anything, these robes were an understatement.
Once outside the outpost, we wound our way through the crowd of cultivators, eventually arriving at the sprawling wooden pavilion that had been hastily assembled atop the eastern hills. There, long lines stretched in front of a row of desks as representatives from various sects registered for one of the upcoming tournaments. On the far left, however, an elderly Grandmaster sat behind a desk that everyone was avoiding. Where every other desk was overwhelmed, hers remained untouched.
As we approached, her eyes lit up. “Ah, the Amorphous Blade Sect. You’re finally here.”
Kan stepped forward, cupped his fists, and bowed. “Yes, Elder. We wish to register for the Heaven’s Ascension Tournament. We intend to compete for elevation to a First-Class, Eight-Star Sect.”
“Excellent,” she said, rubbing her palms together with unexpected enthusiasm. After shuffling a few papers around, she picked up a brush and looked at Kan. “Before we begin, I must inform you that the Broken Spear Outpost may approve only one promotion to First-Class, Eight-Star Sect each year. As two other sects are expected to compete for this opportunity, your first task will be to defeat them and claim it as your own.”
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; any sightings.
Kan nodded easily, having already expected this.
“If you fail,” she continued, “you can walk away and try again next year, or you can stay and compete for the designation of
Second
-Class, Eight-Star Sect. Should you succeed, however, you will then need to complete your Heavenly Ascension.”
“Our what?” asked Kan, confused. He glanced back at me, looking for an explanation, but I motioned for him to keep his focus on the elder.
“Five more fights,” explained the elder, gesturing at the crowded registration desks to our right. “Your first opponent will be the champions of the Second-Class, Nine-Star Sects. Then, you’ll face the victors from the Eight-Star Sects. After that, the victors from the Seven-Star Sects. Each of these teams will be made up of true Disciples, but the Disciples of the Seven-Star Sects have spent years under the careful tutelage of Martial Grandmasters. They aren’t something that a typical Nine-Star Sect can compete with.”
Kan gave the elder a wide, excited grin and bowed his head. “I understand, Elder. Thank you.”
Letting out a soft snort at the boy’s exuberance, the Grandmaster continued, “Normally, your first fight would have been against the champions of the Third-Class Sects, but this year is somewhat special. The fourth team you will face, should you make it that far, has been hired by the Lord of Black Point to punish you for killing his son. Ten Peak Disciples from Blackblade Hall, each one a Martial Master who reset their cultivation base for the right to fight you. Unlike the others, this will be a fight to the death.”
The elder’s voice had turned grim, but Kan barely seemed to notice. He just continued smiling happily while nodding along. “So, after we beat them, what’s next?”
“
If
you beat them,” said the elder, a hint of resignation creeping into her voice, “then you will face your greatest challenge yet, a team that was specially recruited by the Bureau’s elders to ensure that you are pushed to your absolute limits. You do not have to defeat this team—reaching this stage is enough to earn a promotion to First-Class, Eight-Star Sect—but if you
do
win, you will receive the prize that the Saint of Heroes has prepared for any
true
First-Class Sect.”
“What’s the prize?” Kan asked, eyes wide with excitement.
The elder only responded with a slow shake of her head.
As Kan continued talking with the elder, I turned my focus inward, skimming rapidly through the books in my mental library to glean whatever information I could about the teams that we would be up against. Predictably, there was nothing to indicate what kind of group the leaders of some obscure outpost had chosen to fight in this year’s Heaven’s Ascension Tournament. However, I did find some details regarding the group that the Lord of Black Point had hired.
Blackblade Hall was a Second-Class, Seven-Star Sect in the kingdom’s northern reaches. Overall, it was an entirely unremarkable sect. Neither its size nor the strength of its leaders was any cause for concern. The only thing that set it apart was its longevity. Where most Seven-Star Sects either advanced to Six-Star or collapsed under their own weight within a few decades, Blackblade Hall had remained at Seven-Star for more than four centuries.
This was partly because they were good at knowing who they could afford to offend.
If they angered someone weak, they erased the threat without hesitation, root and branch, leaving no one behind to grow strong enough to retaliate. If they angered someone strong, they swallowed their pride and offered whatever concessions were necessary to appease them.
This was only part of the explanation, though. More important was the sect’s location.
I stepped forward, cutting into Kan and the Grandmaster’s conversation. “Pardon the interruption, Elder. You mentioned that the Lord of Black Point hired a team from Blackblade Hall. Is that the Blackblade Hall of Pale Mist Mountain?”
The elder, who had been reciting the tournament’s regulations in a bored monotone, suddenly straightened as she eyed me carefully from head to toe. “That’s correct, boy. Blackblade Hall of Pale Mist Mountain. And before you even think about it—don’t be reckless. Those white sashes might protect you for now, but the moment your sect advances, your enemies can drown you in Peak Masters. Be
very
careful about who you decide to offend.”
“Of course not, Elder,” I said, giving her a bow.
As we walked away, registration complete, Meng LuYao tapped me on the shoulder. “Fang, what was that? What has you so interested in this Pale Mist Mountain?”
I waved her forward, careful not to draw attention, then addressed the group in a low voice. “I’m not entirely clear about the details myself, but here’s what matters: Pale Mist Mountain is a Spirit Mountain. It’s incredibly weak, and it’s tucked away in the far reaches of the domain, which is the only reason a Seven-Star Sect has been able to keep hold of it. Still, according to certain records I was able to get ahold of, Pale Mist Mountain produces three or four spirit stones each year.”
My four companions all just looked at me, entirely unimpressed.
“Four spirit stones?” asked Meng LuYao. “Fang, I know we’re just Disciples, but…”
I shook my head. “It’s not about the spirit stones. It’s about the fact that the mountain
creates
them. Aren’t you curious how it does that?”
Meng LuYao blinked. “Your…
records
don’t say?”
“No, they’re incredibly vague in that regard. I
might
have been able to figure something out on my own, but I chose not to. Our new sect needs a challenge to keep us busy, right?”
“And that
challenge
is…”
YuLong, who was already grinning, jumped in before I could even open my mouth. “We need to take over Pale Mist Mountain and make it our own.”
I nodded. “We might as well take advantage of the opportunity that the Lord of Black Point has presented us with. Once we become a Seven-Star Sect, we can settle down on Pale Mist Mountain and slowly expand as we work toward our next ascension.”
Meng LuYao let out a weary sigh. “Fine. But first, let’s just focus on getting through this tournament in one piece. Conquering a ‘Spirit Mountain’ sounds great and all, but right now, I’m more interested in seeing what kinds of prizes the Saint of Heroes has prepared for our victory.”
.
!
Chapter 436 – Life 111, Age 16, Martial Disciple Peak
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