Chapter Eighteen: After the Grand Competition

On the other side, Zhang Xiao encountered Wang Yanbo. It had to be said, Wang Yanbo truly possessed the strength to be recognized by his fellow disciples as the sect’s inaugural disciple. With both hands forming palms, he unleashed shadows in rapid succession; opponents rarely managed to defend before these shadows entwined their limbs, allowing Wang Yanbo to finish them off with a single, gentle punch.

The “Shadow Killing Art”—the shadows Wang Yanbo wielded—were in fact manifestations of spiritual power. The greater one’s spiritual strength, the more formidable the Shadow Killing Art became. Wang Yanbo had likely learned this technique from the Scripture Pavilion before the headmaster announced the grand competition.

Wang Yanbo advanced with ruthless efficiency, his ranking soaring. At first, the Shadow Killing Art alone sufficed, but as the contest progressed, others began employing offensive techniques they’d learned from the Scripture Pavilion as well. This forced Wang Yanbo to exert himself fully: with a superior spirit treasure, the Dazzling Light Gourd, and an armored corpse as his aid, he fought through several hard battles, yet managed to reach the final duel.

Yet, whether it was the Shadow Killing Art or the superior spirit treasures, Zhang Xiao soon found himself uninterested. Eh? That youth... Glancing over, he saw Xia Tan locked in combat with another disciple.

Xia Tan wielded only a low-grade spirit treasure, the Piercing Nail, while his opponent possessed a mid-grade spirit treasure, the Jade Needle. The outcome was inevitable; Xia Tan lost quickly. Zhang Xiao checked Xia Tan’s rank: 843rd. It seemed Xia Tan was destined to be expelled from the inner sect.

Suddenly, a thunderous shout erupted from the martial stage. Zhang Xiao turned in time to see a young man wielding a long sword, launching waves of sword aura with each swing. Observing closely, Zhang Xiao noticed the youth was only at the Qi Drawing stage—yet he effortlessly unleashed sword aura, a feat bordering on monstrous.

Even though Wang Yanbo had reached the peak of the Spirit Focusing stage and was armed with a superior spirit treasure and his armored corpse, he might not prevail against this youth. If one found this youth dazzling, his opponent was even more remarkable: holding a bamboo flute, every time sword aura approached, a piercing sonic blast would shatter it, the sound exploding like thunder.

Though the Maoshan Sect was famed for its corpse arts and strange spells, it was not noted for swordsmanship or sonic techniques. Yet these two shone brilliantly in those very fields—an impressive sight indeed.

“Excellent! Both are using the Supreme Yin Mysterious Essence Scripture as support, cultivating swordsmanship and sonic arts—truly gifted. Once their duel finishes, bring them directly to me; there’s no need for further matches,” instructed the sect leader, Kong Xuan, to the elders at his side.

Zhang Xiao could tell that Kong Xuan valued the two highly, but was unwilling to disrupt his own plans. Either one had the qualifications to battle Wang Yanbo. Although Wang Yanbo had his armored corpse and Dazzling Light Gourd, both sword aura and sonic blasts could counter him. Wang Yanbo’s cultivation was, after all, too low to truly unleash his treasures’ power.

Below, the duel between the two grew ever more spectacular, and the surrounding disciples paused their own matches to watch intently. The more Zhang Xiao observed, the grimmer Wang Yanbo’s expression became.

“Drink! Hundred Swords Resonate!” the sword-wielding youth shouted, his blade trembling as countless sword lights thrust toward his opponent. “Heavenly Sonic Blast!” the other responded, shaking his bamboo flute so violently it became a musical note that exploded with a thunderous boom. The weaker onlookers were thrown back, severely injured by the shockwave.

The sword-wielding youth was no exception—he was sent flying and collapsed on the ground. The flautist trembled, spat a mouthful of blood, and fainted. An elder, already waiting nearby, stepped onto the stage, tossed both from the platform, and declared, “Both are eliminated, neither can continue.”

Once off the stage, their wounds rapidly healed, returning them to perfect health in the blink of an eye.

Upon hearing that both were disqualified and lost the right to continue, the two immediately clung to the elder, protesting. The elder simply led them to the viewing platform before Kong Xuan, the sect master. Naturally, their double defeat was at Kong Xuan’s own suggestion.

“Disciple Jin Wulei greets the master,” said the sword-wielding youth, bowing deeply.

“Disciple Li Sheng greets the master,” echoed the flautist, bowing as well.

Kong Xuan waved a hand, supporting them. “No need for such formality. Rise.”

“Thank you, Master.” The two stood and exchanged glances, neither willing to yield to the other.

Li Sheng stepped forward, “Master, please grant me another chance to duel him.”

Not to be outdone, Jin Wulei made the same request.

“Enough. Both of you are extraordinary talents; this competition means little to you. Stand aside and watch for now,” the master said.

“Master!” Jin Wulei began to protest, but Kong Xuan merely glanced at him coolly. “Hm? Are you dissatisfied?”

Under Kong Xuan’s simple gaze, Jin Wulei felt as if he were but a small leaf adrift in a vast sea, ready to be swept away at any moment. He hurriedly replied, “I dare not. I will obey the master’s command.” Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. Kong Xuan, seeing this, nodded slightly and turned his gaze back to the martial stage.

After stepping down, the two noticed Zhang Xiao on the viewing platform and hurried over to greet him. They both recognized that they were no match for Zhang Xiao’s strength. “Brother Zhang.”

“Oh, so it’s Brother Jin and Brother Li. Just call me Zhang Xiao. The competition isn’t over; whether I’m your senior or junior is still undecided,” Zhang Xiao said with a smile.

“Brother, you are too modest. Even though you didn’t participate, your cultivation alone makes you worthy of the title,” Jin Wulei replied.

“Indeed, you shouldn’t be modest, Brother. As the capable should lead, and your strength far surpasses ours, calling you senior is only proper,” Li Sheng agreed.

“Haha, in that case, I’ll accept the honor. But both of you are exceptionally talented; let’s continue to work hard together,” Zhang Xiao said, secretly pleased by their words. Still, he dared not underestimate them. Though both were only at the Qi Drawing stage, their strength far exceeded the Spirit Focusing stage. Even a Qi Refining disciple without a mid-grade spirit treasure would struggle to defeat them—he simply relied on his much higher cultivation.

As the three chatted, the martial stage below had already determined a victor. Though Wang Yanbo struggled in his last match, he emerged as the undisputed champion. Those ranked near the top beamed with joy, while those near the bottom looked utterly dejected.

Kong Xuan, the sect master, rose and proclaimed, “Today’s competition is over. Tomorrow, we hold the Founding Ceremony. The top ten will be rewarded. The bottom three hundred will follow the elders to the outer sect as steward disciples. Every five years, there will be a test; those who pass may return to the inner sect.”

With that, Kong Xuan and Elder Kong Ling departed, leaving only disciples and elders behind. The bottom three hundred stood to the side, looking at those who remained in the inner sect with bitter hearts. Yet the prospect of a test every five years gave them hope.

“Alright, the bottom three hundred, follow me. The rest, return to the mountain with the other elders,” ordered an elder, gathering the three hundred to lead them away, while Zhang Xiao and the others followed the remaining elders back into the sect.

Once inside, Zhang Xiao took his leave of Jin Wulei and Li Sheng, genuinely liking the pair—far more than Wang Yanbo. After saying his goodbyes, he strode off toward his bamboo cottage to rest. Barely had he walked a few steps when Wang Yanbo approached.

“Senior Brother Zhang, where are you headed? Why not join us for a drink? Truth be told, I’ve got a bottle of Maotai stashed away—since the great change, it’s no longer made,” Wang Yanbo laughed, then suddenly changed his tone. “Ah, almost forgot! Now that I’m the sect’s first disciple, I can’t call you ‘senior brother’ anymore. From now on, you’ll be my junior, haha!”

Zhang Xiao wasn’t angered by Wang Yanbo’s taunt—there was no point in being upset with a puppet. Though he didn’t yet know the full drawbacks of being the sect’s first disciple, he was certain the consequences would reveal themselves sooner or later.

With a slight smile, Zhang Xiao activated his divine movement technique, stepping forward and vanishing from Wang Yanbo’s sight. Wang Yanbo was left in shock; he hadn’t expected Zhang Xiao to be so terrifying, disappearing in an instant. Surrounded by flattering disciples, Wang Yanbo seethed inwardly: “Once I’m the sect’s first disciple and resources pour in, my cultivation will soar. One day, Zhang Xiao, you’ll kneel before me!”

Boom! Boom! Boom! The ringing of bells and drums echoed through Mount Mao. Before the grand hall stood an enormous bronze cauldron, three incense sticks as thick as stone pillars thrust into its center.

Over seven hundred disciples, Zhang Xiao among them, all wore silver-threaded Daoist robes and stood obediently outside the hall. Only Wang Yanbo, in golden robes and a jade sash, stood at the forefront, resplendent and heroic.

“Today marks the grand founding of Mount Mao—a glorious era. From this day, you are inner disciples of the sect, charged with slaying demons and upholding justice, safeguarding the nation and the world. All disciples must observe the sect’s rules:

First: Any who betray their master or ancestors shall have their cultivation destroyed, their souls dragged into the endless abyss, never to be reborn.

Second: Disciples must support one another. Fratricide is punishable by death.

Third: Any who collude with outsiders or betray sect secrets shall be executed.

Fourth…”

The sect master, Kong Xuan, stood before them, reading the fifteen rules of Mount Mao from a golden scroll. Of course, these were not all the rules, but any violation of those read aloud was a capital offense. And here, ‘capital’ meant not just death, but utter annihilation—no possibility of resurrection.