“Dispense with formalities.”
Gu Qingfeng, usually stern and fond of keeping a straight face, now revealed a rare smile as he looked at Chen Qingyuan standing before him.
“By the order of my master, I’ve come to the Sword Hall to select a sword suitable for a disciple.”
Chen Qingyuan stated.
“Mm.” Gu Qingfeng had already received Yu Chenran’s sound transmission, which was why he was waiting in the grand hall: “Follow me.”
The Sword Hall consisted of ninety-nine mountains of varying heights, some housing cultivation caves, others places for practicing the Sword Dao.
The most unique mountain lay at the deepest part of the Sword Hall, roughly two thousand meters tall.
Countless swords were embedded in the surface of this mountain, easily numbering in the hundreds of thousands. Even the lowest quality swords at the base of the mountain were high-quality magical instruments.
Weapons were categorized from low to high as magical instruments, spiritual instruments, and sacred instruments, each with their own sub-rankings of low, medium, and high quality.
Magical instruments were merely sharp, while spiritual instruments underwent a transformation, developing spiritual wisdom, capable of withstanding the infusion of spiritual power and thus unleashing strength far beyond that of magical instruments.
As for sacred instruments, these were exceedingly rare in the secular world, generally only wielded by Mahayana cultivators. A few Tribulation Crossing cultivators could also control them, requiring immense control.
“This is Sword Mountain. Every disciple in our hall has one opportunity to ascend it. Whether one can obtain a superior sword depends entirely on their own fortune and strength.”
Gu Qingfeng pointed at the distant Sword Mountain, feeling a sense of pride welling up inside him.
From afar, a terrifying sword aura spread from the direction of Sword Mountain. If not for the astonishing barrier sealing it off, it might have caused quite a commotion.
“The sword chooses its master.”
To ascend Sword Mountain, one must first gain the recognition of a sword before having the right to take it away.
Those accepted as disciples by the Sword Hall all possessed a Sword Dao spiritual root; it was impossible for them not to be recognized by even a low-quality spiritual treasure.
“Elder Gu, it seems there’s a formation at the peak of the mountain. What is it?”
Chen Qingyuan looked towards the summit, asking with curiosity.
“At the very top, there are seven high-quality sacred swords sealed by a special formation to prevent any disturbances,” Gu Qingfeng explained patiently. “The founding ancestor of the Academy had unparalleled fortune and vast supernatural powers, forging a total of nine perfect sacred swords.”
“What about the other two swords?”
Chen Qingyuan inquired.
“The Taiyuan Sword is currently controlled by the Academy’s Dean. The Qin Shang Sword is Elder Zhao Yichuan’s personal weapon. The remaining seven are all at the peak.”
Gu Qingfeng felt a pang of regret discussing this matter.
He had not received the recognition of the founding ancestor’s nine swords, yet he still held the position of head of the Sword Hall, which made him feel ashamed.
“I see.” Chen Qingyuan nodded lightly. “If one is recognized by many swords, can they only take one?”
“Of course, one person, one sword, to be returned upon death.”
This was a rule set by the founding ancestor, to leave opportunities for others and stabilize the foundation.
“What a pity.”
Chen Qingyuan had hoped to acquire several swords, but he had to abandon that thought.
“Rest and regulate your breath for a few days. When you are at your peak condition, you may ascend Sword Mountain.”
Gu Qingfeng lifted the prohibitions along the way and led Chen Qingyuan to the base of Sword Mountain.
“Alright.” Chen Qingyuan then sat down cross-legged.
Gu Qingfeng stood by, closing his eyes to rest.
Two days later, Chen Qingyuan reached an optimal state and requested to ascend the mountain.
“Go ahead!”
Gu Qingfeng nodded slowly, giving his consent.
Thus, Chen Qingyuan took heavy steps forward.
Passing through the barrier, he arrived at the entrance to the mountain path, where dozens of low-quality spiritual swords of different shapes and colors were planted.
As soon as Chen Qingyuan arrived, these spiritual swords sensed his presence, trembling simultaneously and emitting dazzling sword light, as if trying to catch his attention.
Hum—
With Chen Qingyuan’s advance, more and more spiritual swords began to shine, vying with each other.
The path to the summit was a winding line that circled the mountain. From the top, one could see the path as if composed of countless circles.
At the base, Gu Qingfeng looked up at Sword Mountain and murmured, “Chen Qingyuan’s talent in the Sword Dao is extremely high; there’s a slight chance he could obtain one of the founding ancestor’s high-quality sacred swords.”
The battle between Chen Qingyuan and Changsun Fengye had already spread throughout the Academy.
This matter circulated only among the major powers in the Northern Wilderness, with most ordinary forces not even aware of the Academy’s existence, let alone other details.
Far away in the Flow Star Domain, powers like the Mystic Azure Sect had no way of learning about it.
“Elder Gu, care for a drink?”
A breeze blew by, and Vice Dean Lin Wenyou suddenly appeared, reeking of alcohol and holding a wine gourd in his hand.
“No, thanks.”
Gu Qingfeng did not turn around, responding coldly.
“Do you think the kid can make it?”
Lin Wenyou and Gu Qingfeng were disciples who entered the Academy at the same time and had a good relationship.
“He should be able to.”
After pondering for a while, Gu Qingfeng still held great hope for Chen Qingyuan. If it weren’t for the fact that Chen Qingyuan was already Yu Chenran’s personal disciple, he would have shamelessly taken him as his own.
In the vast Academy, only three people knew of Chen Qingyuan’s Mystic Azure background: Lin Wenyou, Yu Chenran, Zhao Yichuan.
Little fellow from Mystic Azure, how far can you go?
Lin Wenyou took a sip of his drink, looking towards Sword Mountain, anticipating Chen Qingyuan’s future.
At a corner of Sword Mountain…
The higher Chen Qingyuan climbed, the greater the pressure he faced.
The sword intent formed by the convergence of countless swords weighed heavily on him, making every step forward require tremendous effort.
Surveying the surrounding swords, Chen Qingyuan whispered, “The Academy’s foundation is truly unfathomable. Any one of these swords, if taken outside, would cause quite a stir.”
Thousands of swords resonated in response, their sword cries echoing to the heavens, lingering for a long time.
At Chen Qingyuan’s pace, reaching the summit would take at least a month.
Ordinary spiritual swords couldn’t make Chen Qingyuan pause; his goal was the sacred swords at the peak.
Clang—
A sword suddenly flew up, hovering in front of Chen Qingyuan.
“We have no fate together, my apologies.”
Chen Qingyuan bowed to the sword in front of him, expressing his regret.
The sentient sword dimmed upon rejection, returning to its original place.
This scene repeated hundreds of times, and Chen Qingyuan’s heart bled with each refusal, feeling as though he had missed out on too many treasures. If possible, he would have taken them all.
But one person could only take one sword; this was the rule set by the founding ancestor and could not be changed.
And so, Chen Qingyuan spent ten days to reach a certain point halfway up the mountain, his steps growing even slower.
Every half hour, he needed to rest for a while.