“Isn’t it true? We started on the same ship. I’ve busted my ass just to reach the fifth level of Foundation Establishment, and she’s already… tch. What a fucking difference.”
Among the new disciples, Warren had always been the brightest—whether in spellcraft or cultivation, he was the one people measured themselves against. But now, hearing that Lauren was chosen for the Hidden Mist Secret Realm, the pride he had built up over three years collapsed into bitter defeat.
On the podium, Gerald waved over Dante, the appointed leader. “You’re still short one person for the Hidden Mist Secret Realm. This is your Junior Master, Lauren. See that she’s looked after.”
Lauren offered a polite smile. “Sorry to trouble you all.”
Dante nearly tripped over his own bow. “Ms. Lauren , you’re too polite. For us, it’s an honor to train alongside you.”
Dante would lead the Thunder Sect’s team, while their escorting elder was none other than Nash’s master, Elder Jade.
The flying boat stood ready at the plaza, sails humming with spiritual energy, waiting only for the last to board. Drake himself had accompanied Lauren to see her off.
Lauren stepped aboard, turned, and saluted Elder Jade with practiced grace.
“I’ll be relying on your care during this journey, Senior Sister Jade.”
Elder Jade gave her an assessing look. The girl’s manners were sensible, steady, and just the right balance of respectful and self-possessed. So this is Immortal Master’s disciple… No wonder.
With a faint smile, she replied, “You’re welcome, Lauren. Go inside and rest when you’re ready.”
Lauren nodded, but instead of retreating to the cabin, she lingered at the railing, raising her hand to wave goodbye.
For the first time in what felt like years, Drake’s usually stone-carved face softened into the faintest smile.
The flying boat surged forward, the summit falling away beneath them. In just a few breaths, Drake was little more than a blur—but Lauren knew his spiritual sense was locked onto her. So she stayed at the rail a while longer, waving until the mountains vanished.
“Lauren!”
Nash came bounding up, practically glowing with excitement. “I didn’t expect it to be you. You actually made it. This is incredible!”
They hadn’t seen each other in over two years, only exchanging the occasional message about sect gossip.
Lauren answered modestly, “I can’t take credit. It’s all thanks to Master’s teaching.”
“You’re being humble. I’ve never seen anyone work harder than you.”
Lauren chuckled. "Hehe, of course. My master taught me well, of course."
The dozen disciples bound for the Hidden Mist Secret Realm gathered closer, eager to see for themselves the “legendary” Junior Master. Lauren’s natural shyness only made her seem more approachable, and soon their initial awe gave way to curiosity.
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Veronica and Eliseo, the two women in the group, were quickest to step forward.
“Ms. Lauren,” Veronica asked, eyes wide, “how did you manage to advance so fast in only three years?”
Lauren gave a helpless smile. “My master forbade me from discussing personal cultivation methods.”
Immediately, the others turned on Eliseo.
“Seriously? You think she’d just spill her cultivation method like that?”
Eliseo huffed, stomping her foot. “I was just curious!”
“Then shut it and let me ask,” another disciple cut in, turning to Lauren. “Ms.Lauren, is the Immortal Venerable really… strict?”
“Not particularly. Master has a very kind temperament.”
The group blinked in disbelief.
“Kind? Him? Every time I see him, I feel like my heart’s about to stop.”
“That’s right! Remember what happened to Mr. Dante last—”
“Shut it!” Dante barked, face darkening as he shot a murderous glare at Zachariah. The poor boy clamped his mouth shut mid-sentence.
But it was too late. Curiosity was hooked.
“What happened to Mr. Dante? Tell us!”
“Nothing,” Zachariah muttered.
“Lame.”
Before anyone could press further, a sharp voice cut in.
“Ahem.” Elder Jade had arrived, her gaze sweeping over the cluster of disciples. “What’s this? Surrounding Lauren the moment we set off? Don’t you have better things to do?”
The group scattered like startled sparrows, muttering excuses as they dispersed.
Jade’s gaze lingered on Lauren. Sixteen—probably the youngest in the entire group heading into the Hidden Mist Secret Realm.
A girl that age was bound to blush under all those stares. No surprise there.
“Lauren,” Jade said lightly, “don’t pay them too much mind. They’re the pride of their generation, used to being praised and fawned over. That makes them arrogant, even disrespectful at times. Don’t spoil them just because you’re young. Remember, in terms of status you outrank them—you should be the one keeping them in line.”
Lauren bowed, her voice steady. “Thank you for the reminder, Ms. Jade.”
Jade studied her again, inwardly impressed. So polite, so composed. If even half of her own disciples had this girl’s manners and presence, Jade would have fewer headaches.
........
The journey to the Hidden Mist Secret Realm wasn’t far, but it wasn’t close either. They’d arrive in about half a month.
The realm only opened once every hundred years. Near its entrance sat a small town—normally empty, a ghost town, but every century it sprang to life like wildfire.
Entry was limited, and carefully divided: the three great Xuan Sects and the Sword Sect each claimed ten percent—forty percent in total. Second- and third-rate sects, along with aristocratic families, accounted for fifty percent. The remaining ten percent, by long-standing tradition, went to outstanding independent cultivators without sect backing.
The righteous sects devoured the lion’s share, but even lions knew better than to eat every scrap. Better to leave some soup for others if you wanted the world to stay balanced.
Two hundred cultivators would be allowed in this time. But already, from a distance, the little town looked packed with at least five hundred people—and more were still pouring in. For every person with a stake in the trial, there were two or three just here to spectate. That was always the way of things.
By the time the opening drew near, the place would hold over a thousand.
Each of the major sects had already raised temporary inns, staking their claims in the small town. When the Thunder Sect’s flying boat touched down, Jade led the party straight to their inn.
Preparations had been made well in advance: spacious rooms, spirit beast meat cooked until its juices glistened, and trays of ripe spiritual fruit waiting on the tables.
Most of the younger disciples weren’t yet in the stage of full fasting, and even those who were couldn’t help but be tempted. The smell of roasted spirit beast meat hit them like a hammer to the gut.
Bellies growled. Mouths watered. Self-control wavered.
Jade chuckled at the sight. “Go on, get your rooms assigned first. After that, come down and eat.”
“Thank you, Master!”
Their replies came in perfect unison—though their eyes were fixed on the food.
They snatched up the wooden room tags and scattered, only to bolt right back down the stairs like they hadn’t eaten in years.
And in truth, it felt that way. Half a month in the air, sustained on nothing but fasting pills, left a sharp craving that pills couldn’t touch. They dulled hunger, but they couldn’t conjure the taste of crisp meat and fresh fruit.
Even Dante, who prided himself on discipline, caught himself swallowing hard.
He was about to head down to eat with the others when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Lauren slip quietly into her room instead.
Huh? Ms. Lauren isn’t eating?

