"You must worry about your family all the time. Are they at least alright?” Jade asked in a subdued voice, her compassionate gaze meeting his own

  Cade briefly shifted into his realm of consciousness, and his perception of the real world slowed down. Think! Do not give anything away.

  “You’re right, it hasn’t been easy,” Cade said after a momentary pause, keeping a neutral face despite grief clawing at his chest. “I appreciate your concern, Jade. I’m sure the Emperor will dispatch soldiers to protect those troubled areas. Hopefully things will calm down soon,” he offered a tactful answer.

  “Don’t worry, he definitely will!” she proclaimed passionately.

  It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Jade enough to share a part of his story. He had no doubts about her character. He was sure she would’ve immediately condemned Griswold and Marius if she found out the truth. But she was also very impulsive. With someone like Darkheart around, he couldn’t take any risks. If she slipped up and the manhunter caught his scent, he’d be in serious trouble. Not to mention, they weren’t currently alone.

  There was a flicker of recollection in King’s eyes, and this didn’t fail to escape the Asura’s notice. The young ex-bandit was far from stupid; their conversation from that dark alley was doubtlessly etched into his memory. Given enough information, he would definitely connect the dots, linking Cade, Griswold, and possibly Jade together. Fortunately, as far as he could tell, Griswold’s kidnapping was known only to a small circle of people. However, both King and Brickwall must have at least realized that Jade wasn’t just some random cultivator, but likely a Brightheart. He swore internally. Jade Brightmoor… I really am an idiot.

  “Let’s not talk more about these heavy matters. We’re all on our way to become Sword Dao disciples, and we’re almost there! Let’s focus on recovering; we have a tough day of climbing ahead of us,” Cade said, steering the conversation.

  This was something everyone could easily agree on. The conversation turned towards gossip about the monastery, with Brickwall and King sharing all the little rumors they had overheard. Both of them had been camping under the mountain for nearly three weeks. Soon after, the fire died down to glowing embers, and everyone retreated to their tents. Cade insisted on keeping watch, briefly explaining his special technique allowing him to ignore sleep. Neither of the two men acted surprised; there were thousands of obscure cultivation arts, many a lot more powerful than a simple ability that merely delayed the onset of fatigue.

  Once alone, he sat cross-legged, staring at the vast, star-dusted sky and listening to the mournful howl of the wind.

  Six days later, dirty, exhausted, and with their hands and knees bleeding from hundreds of tiny cuts and tears, the company finally laid their eyes on the dark, triangular silhouette of the Sword Dao Monastery’s citadel.

  The rest of their ascent had fortunately passed without major incidents, other than the harrowing daily effort they were forced to put into climbing. The difficulty rose the closer they were to the summit, almost as if someone had designed it that way on purpose. King was the first to start lagging behind. Due to him having the lowest cultivation in the group, he became the weakest link, and the accumulated fatigue began to slow him first. On the hardest sections, Brickwall and Cade were forced to carry him on their backs, for which the young ex-bandit was extremely grateful. In fact, he was so grateful he couldn’t shut up about it, which grated on the gruff body refiner to no end, prompting him into several cursing fits.

  Everyone except Cade was forced to continuously wrap their hands in linen bandages, changing them as often as three times per day. His Asura healing factor effortlessly handled such minor tears. He still applied the bandages though, if only not to stand out. Despite these preventive measures, their palms could no longer recover fast enough. The damage simply piled on. The dark rock was extremely abrasive, and it was truly a wonder they had managed to climb without them for so long.

  He had caught Jade weeping quietly several times, her hands torn to shreds. At the end of each day, she could barely move her fingers. Cade helped her wash and dress the wounds, as with her destroyed palms she wasn’t capable of doing it herself. Adding more layers of cloth would’ve definitely helped, but with the increased difficulty of the climb, it would cost her some precision. Using leather gloves was out of the question for the same reason—they were too thick. In this situation, with her already being so fatigued, an imprecise grip could very well spell her death, something the princess had learned three days ago.

  It happened when she tried to grab onto a two-finger hold, and with an extra layer of bandages, the tips of her fingers slipped. With a piercing scream, she had found herself with her feet dangling in the air several hundred feet above the nearest shelf, a single hand gripping the rock so hard her digits nearly fractured. Luckily for her, despite never sleeping, Cade was always alert. He scaled the wall like a giant rock spider, almost immediately grabbing her by the waist and helping her secure her position. After that incident, everyone began to go very light on the bandages, dipping their hands in small chalk bags attached to their belts every few moves to counter the constant trickle of slippery blood.

  In the evenings, they took care of their wounds, rarely sitting around the fire for more than an hour before heading to their tents. On a moderately difficult day, of which there were only a couple, they’d chat, exchanging cultivation experiences or personal anecdotes. The rest of the time, they immediately went to sleep after applying healing salves, too tired to even think, let alone socialize. Everyone slept soundly except Cade, who would sit in a lotus position under the stars, reading books and running Flesh Fortification diagrams.

  While Jade thought it was the company of King Dong and Reeve Brickwall that was largely responsible for their safety during that time, Cade knew the real reason. Or rather, the three glowing, spherical reasons stored safely in his ring. He had hardly any knowledge about assassin cultivators, but he assumed it was neither cheap nor easy to train one. Those who reached the late stage of Foundation Establishment or Skeletal Reinforcement at a young age—like those three he had dealt with—were an important part of the sect’s future.

  The half a million crystals he had requested was a drop of spittle among the pouring rain of resources Shadow Dao Palace must have had at its disposal. He requested relatively little on purpose, not wanting the assassins to escalate to direct conflict immediately instead of paying up.

  Naturally, once the pre-cores were in their pockets, they’d no doubt want to deal with him, which was why he absolutely had to join the monastery. This way, the assassins would have a much harder task ahead of them; with no pressing need to kill him, they would likely wait until a good opportunity presented itself. In the meantime, he would continue growing stronger.

  Jade’s voice shook him out of his musings. “It looks like an old dungeon, except above ground,” she commented, visibly unimpressed.

  Cade glanced at the others. They were all filthy and bleeding through their bandages, but otherwise excited. He… he just felt stretched. Those eleven days without sleep had really taken a toll on his mental state. All he wanted to do was close his eyes. His passive blood consumption had doubled as his body was forced to counter the accumulation of fatigue, and he had already used up more than three-quarters of his blood essence reserves.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  He followed her gaze to the citadel. Jade’s simple description perfectly represented his own feelings. Imposing and ominous, the monastery looked more like an ancient prison than a top-tier cultivator haven. Surrounded by towering dark walls many men thick, the citadel resembled the ziggurat he had seen in Master Lao Ren’s projection, in the same way a child would resemble their grandparents. It must have been at least half a mile in height. The whole summit had been perfectly flattened only to barely contain this giant fortress.

  In front of them was a set of massive gates built of a pale yellow metal polished to perfection. Cade recognized it straight away—it was mithril, the same as in Lao Ren’s shield. The double gates stood wide open, revealing a courtyard covered in black stone polished by countless millennia of wear. There were a few dozen young people already bustling inside.

  “Shall we go in?” King suggested, but before he finished, Brickwall pushed in front of him, swaggering towards the gates like he owned the place.

  “Damn right we’re going in!” he exclaimed, laughing boisterously. “Sword Dao Monastery, your new disciples have arrived!”

  Jade chuckled, and Cade’s lips stretched into a smile. He was initially a bit wary of Brickwall and had kept an eye on his life signature during every interaction, which turned out to be unnecessary. The man was a body cultivator through and through, straightforward and honest. He recalled a moment a couple of nights ago when Reeve had really won him over. At that time, they were discussing cultivation and why there were so few extremely powerful experts around. King had mentioned how you supposedly needed to comprehend certain soul laws if you wanted to enter the fourth tier, saying that it wasn’t just a matter of gathering enough qi.

  Brickwall chuckled in response to these words. “Soul laws? Damn. It’s bullshit like this that makes me happy I joined a proper monastery. You know, my parents were goat herders. I’m a simple fellow. ‘Oh no, I can’t advance to Soul Avatar because my understanding of the soul is shit.’ Nah, that’s not for me. Hak Fu monks pump qi into their bodies until they break. Then we rest—and do it again! And again! One day I will hit so hard, me slapping a mountain will count as bullying. Just looking at how hard I train breaks my heart. And my heart’s unbreakable! My bones are harder than forged iron. The rest of me? Tougher than a granite shithouse. This is what it means to be a body cultivator. Hard training, good food, and none of that philosophical bullshit.” He made them all laugh that evening, and the best part was, Reeve meant every single word. His life signature fluctuations confirmed it beyond doubt.

  Cade’s mind returned to the present, and they all followed behind the cheerful body refiner, entering the sprawling courtyard. He didn’t quite understand why there were so few people here—no more than fifty. While their small group didn’t slouch, he still expected to see a larger crowd. Apparently, others had taken even more safety precautions during their ascent. Those present in the courtyard shot a few uninterested glances at the newcomers and promptly returned to their matters, other than a couple of male gazes briefly lingering on Jade.

  It seemed new people arriving in a pitiful state was the norm. From those present in the courtyard, many were still tending to their wounds or pitching their tents; only a few were already relaxed, engaging in leisure conversations. A group of five youths watched as two people sparred in hand-to-hand combat, encouraging them loudly. A few elves playing Go caught Cade’s interest. It was a popular game among cultivators, one he had never had an opportunity to try. The princess noticed his curious glances, and after finding out he didn’t know how to play, she promised to teach him. Apparently Jade used to play a lot with Var Du Long, who was an avid enthusiast of the game.

  Cade saw several Sword Dao disciples passing in the distance, their gray robes signifying their association with the outer court. Most didn’t cast a single glance in their direction, with the exception of one young woman, who started walking towards them. She didn’t bother introducing herself and instead pointed towards an area where their small group could set up their tents. Then she briefly instructed them on where they could wash and change, leaving unhurriedly right after.

  “What do we do now? Just wait?” the princess asked, turning towards Cade with a questioning look.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m going to sleep. Then you can teach me how to play Go,” he grinned at her, stifling a yawn.

  Cade was dead to the world for more than a day, and while he didn’t feel fully recovered, it was nonetheless a big step up. A lot of his mental fatigue had dissipated, and his passive blood qi consumption was now barely elevated. Since waking up, he had already lost count of how many times Jade crushed him at the game. The rules of Go were simple to learn, but for some reason, she always found a way to beat him. Each time she won, the princess giggled like a little girl. Apparently, the defeated look on his face was the best reward she could hope for.

  “You know what, forget it. I'm still a bit tired and clearly terrible at this game,” he sighed dejectedly.

  “No, no. We just need to practice more. Trust me, this is good for you. Forges character and sharpens the mind,” she snickered in response.

  “It certainly sharpens my patience. You’re simply enjoying lording over me. Stop trying to justify it with lofty words and admit it,” he chuckled upon seeing her smug expression. Her subsequent cheeky grin told him everything he needed to know.

  Everyone was in a great mood, though he had caught Jade glancing towards the courtyard gates at times. She was growing concerned about her cousins, but there was simply nothing they could do aside from waiting. Once a cultivator stepped into the courtyard, they weren’t allowed to leave until the trial was over. In the meantime, many more young experts had arrived, most of whom appeared extremely worn out. Some walked in; others dragged themselves inside. The latter tended to be so tired they often just hugged the wall, immediately falling asleep, snoring loudly. However, all the newcomers had one thing in common: whether they stepped or crawled through the gates, their dirt-smeared faces beamed with joy. Despite their wounds, filth, and sweat-soaked, tattered robes, they knew they had won. At that moment nothing else mattered.

  Each race from the Sun Continent was represented among the candidates, other than the dark elves. A few goldscales chatted among themselves, their small scales shining like gold and silver coins under the scorching desert sun. Elves apparently were partial to the sword and saber due to their long limbs and much longer traditions, which explained why there were several dozens gathered in the courtyard. Bright-haired fey were here as well, though Cade could only discern four or five among the crowd. Humans had the largest representation; more than half of all cultivators present belonged to the human race, with a broad variety of skin tones and hair colors. A few elven youths tried to pull Cade and Reeve into a spar, eager to test themselves against who they assumed were strong human body refiners, but they both declined. For the Asura, it was pointless to fight the collared youngsters, while Reeve looked down on the physically unimpressive group, not considering them much of a challenge.

  On the morning of the fifteenth day, there were more than two hundred candidates in the courtyard eagerly awaiting the Sword Dao representative. It was a huge drop from the many thousands that had braved the enormous mountain. Jade couldn’t stand still, now greatly concerned about her family’s fate. Everyone was checking their timekeepers, as the trial was about to end. There were still a few last-minute arrivals, and many of those newcomers were seriously wounded. It was obvious they had paid a high price to get here in time.

  Once the ninth hour was upon them, the huge courtyard gates began to close. A group of four dirty, wounded Brighthearts charged through the slowly swiveling gates, screaming like demons as they pushed their worn-out bodies through this final effort, only to collapse from exhaustion once inside.

  Jade was impatiently waiting near the entrance and instantly rushed towards her cousins. The four youths presented a miserable sight. Running a few dozen feet behind the Brightheart nobles was a young cultivator couple, making a desperate dash towards the entrance. The gates shut right in front of their eyes with a deep, booming sound that resonated through the bones. It was hard to forget the expression of utter devastation on their grimy faces as they leaped forward with their hands helplessly outstretched. He could only imagine how it must have felt to arrive one breath too late.

  With a heavy sigh, he helped Amelia and Renata stand up. They were barely responsive, their legs shaking so badly he eventually just threw both noble ladies over his shoulder like naughty children. He could barely feel their weight. Cade followed the princess, who half-dragged, half-pushed the two brothers towards her tent, where all four youngsters instantly fell asleep, driven by the trial to their physical and mental limits. Jade’s gave him a brilliant smile, obviously greatly relieved they had all made it.

  As the gathered cultivators began to exchange nervous looks, a wizened voice echoed through the courtyard.

  “Congratulations, young ones! You have suffered and prevailed. You are all therefore granted access to our Hall of Swords, where luck and fate intertwine.”