“Huh?”
Bai Zhirou froze for a moment, clearly not understanding what Jiang Ye meant by those words.
However, she looked down toward the mountain path.
Du Ziteng had finally managed to scramble up to the seventieth step.
Yet he was in an exceptionally miserable state, looking just like a beggar who had just been pulled out of a cesspool.
Over a dozen torn, bloody gashes covered his body, and his once-gorgeous Daoist robes had been reduced to tattered rags.
Most importantly...
Under this extreme pressure, a thick, black, sticky substance was actually being forced out of the exposed pores of his skin!
As a gust of mountain wind blew past, a pungent, foul stench immediately wafted through the air.
Bai Zhirou stared, dumbfounded.
She finally understood what Jiang Ye meant by “pooping through pores”!
The impurities expelled during traditional tendon-cleansing and marrow-refining in the cultivation world were truly unbearable to look at.
She subconsciously touched her own skin, which remained as white as snow.
Thanks to the Mystic Gang Sword Body Manual, she had already thoroughly cleansed all impurities from her body during her medicinal baths over the past few days.
Jogging all the way up just now had only brought out a light, fragrant sweat.
The thought of what would happen if she had “pooped through her pores” in front of everyone...
Bai Zhirou shuddered violently.
....
Fifteen minutes later.
The mountain summit.
This was an extremely vast, giant platform that looked as if it had been sheared flat by a single sword strike.
Densely stuck into the platform were countless weapons of every shape and size.
Among them, swords were the most numerous, though sabers, spears, halberds, battleaxes, broadaxes, hooks, and forks were all present as well.
At the very center of the platform, a longsword emitting a faint green light hovered in midair, overlooking the surrounding mortal iron like a king.
The disciples who had been tortured into crying for mercy and left covered in bloody gashes inside the Thousand-Jun Stone Path were now fully restored thanks to the healing pills.
Each of them was staring with burning eyes at the dazzling array of weapons on the platform.
This was their ultimate goal for risking their lives to fight in the outer sect tournament and squeeze into the top ten!
It was a hidden reward even more precious than Foundation Establishment Pills!
Because the reason spiritual energy in this secret realm was so dense was that the sect had expended countless heavenly materials and earthly treasures to lay down an ancient array here: the 【Ten Thousand Weapons Spirit-Nurturing Formation】!
This formation had only one function: to nourish weapons and nurture their spirituality!
It was no exaggeration to call it the very foundation of the Azure Mystic Sect.
This trial was called the 【Sword Heart Platform】. It was no longer a test of a cultivator's physical body, but rather their core “qi” and “spirit”!
As long as one could withstand the terrifying pressure emitted by these ten thousand weapons, walk up to their desired weapon, and pull it out, it was theirs.
Naturally, the further one walked, the higher the grade of the weapon would be.
Back in the day, the remarkably talented Holy Son, Li Wangchuan, had gritted his teeth and walked twenty-one steps against the pressure!
He had successfully pulled out a longsword that had already birthed basic intelligence—a 【low-grade Spirit Tool】!
It had driven countless fellow disciples green with envy.
Once a weapon reached the Spirit Tool level and possessed intelligence, it could connect mind-to-mind with its master, becoming an extension of their arm and causing their combat power to skyrocket!
...
Another half-ke passed.
The scene remained quiet, without a single sound.
The disciples watching from around the perimeter were already getting impatient, whispering amongst themselves.
On the platform, the top ten disciples felt bewildered. Why hadn't it started after waiting so long?
High in the sky.
Sect Master Song Changfeng was frantically sending voice transmissions to the green longsword hovering in the center of the platform.
However, the green longsword continued to hover silently, giving no response whatsoever.
“Sigh...”
Song Changfeng gave a helpless sigh. He could only step forward and respectfully cup his hands toward the green longsword:
“Senior Sword Spirit, the trial may begin.”
...
Complete silence fell over the entire venue.
The wind blew across the platform, swirling a few fallen leaves, but the green longsword remained completely motionless.
Song Changfeng's face darkened with black lines.
Which nerve of this ancestor had gone wrong today?
Bravely facing the bewildered gazes of the crowd, Song Changfeng had no choice but to bite the bullet and raise his voice once more:
“Senior Sword Spirit??”
Right at that moment.
A crisp yet cranky young girl's voice, brimming with morning temper, echoed throughout the entire venue:
“So noisy! So noisy!!”
“This princess is still sleeping! Are you done yet, Little Song?!”
Song Changfeng: “...”
No, Great-Aunt, what do you even do?!
He was a grand Nascent Soul cultivator and the master of a sect, yet he was publicly called “Little Song.”
However, he truly didn't dare to throw a temper. He could only swallow his grievance and continue to smile apologetically:
“Sorry to trouble you, Senior...”
“So annoying! Hurry up! Don't ruin this princess's sleep!”
As soon as that immature yet tempestuous voice fell—
Boom—!!!
An extraordinarily terrifying pressure of sword intent abruptly erupted from the green longsword!
It triggered the rest of the weapons on the platform in sequence, sending out layer upon layer of cascading sword intent pressure.
At the same time, a massive spiritual energy storm whipped up across the platform!
In midair.
Countless True Disciples gasped as they watched the terrifying, tornado-like scene below, exclaiming in low voices:
“Holy shit! Is the scale of this spiritual energy storm twice as big as previous years?!”
“This pressure is way too terrifying!”
“Nonsense! Didn't you hear that ancestor just got woken up and threw a tantrum? This difficulty is definitely hell-mode!”
...
Below the platform.
The top ten disciples who were brimming with confidence just moments ago—and even calculating in their heads which weapon to pull—were now completely dumbfounded.
They had originally thought they only needed to walk over while braving that faint pressure from before.
Who could have fucking guessed that what was once a calm puddle would instantly turn into a deep-sea vortex tossing up gigantic waves?!
Who the hell could stand up to this?!
Just then, the Main Peak elder announced loudly once more:
“The 【Sword Heart Platform】 trial officially begins! No limit on participants, you may set off simultaneously!”
Yet as soon as the words left his mouth, not a single person stepped forward.
The disciples were all exchanging looks, swallowing hard with great difficulty. None of them dared to be the bird that stuck its neck out first.
In midair, the True Disciples spectating the drama were already taking bets:
“Hey, how many steps do you think they can take this time?”
“Ten steps at most, I reckon.”
“Ten steps? You think way too highly of them. This is enhanced pressure boosted by that ancestor's morning temper. If they can walk five steps, they should thank their lucky stars.”
...
Looking at the spiritual energy storm in front of her that seemed capable of shredding everything, Bai Zhirou felt butterflies in her stomach as well. She couldn't help but ask in her mind:
“Senior... this display is a bit scary.”
“Which... which weapon do you think we should pick?”
“Pick?” Jiang Ye sneered. “Only kids make choices. Experienced players naturally take the best!”
Buzz.
Bai Zhirou's body trembled slightly.
When her eyes opened again, those clear eyes had turned into Jiang Ye's signature playful expression.
Jiang Ye paid no mind to the terrified disciples beside him.
With his hands in his pockets, he sauntered forward with an arrogant, swaggering gait, casually walking right into that terrifying spiritual energy storm.
The violent spiritual energy slashed past like blades, yet it merely blew back a few strands of “Bai Zhirou's” black hair.
Jiang Ye strolled across the platform as relaxed as if nothing were happening.
As he walked, he even touched things here and looked around there, throwing out occasional evaluations:
“Tsk, the materials on this sword are way too trash.”
“This saber won't do either. The design is too ugly, doesn't fit my style.”
“Ooh, this staff is pretty long though...”
Rate on N.U.
