Chapter 8 – The Highest Nether Mark

  Diyuan started to get the impression that the pagoda was purposefully trying to teach him, rather than simply test him. The next few floors had certain situational events that dealt with more than just a simple spar.

  The third floor was another duel, much like the first floor. But rather than a tournament arena, it was a war battlefield. Fire, smoke, clashes, and shouts and screams filled the air. Zun Ji only had one goal: to kill Diyuan. There was no foreplay of battle, where one’s skill might be purposefully shown off to a crowd. It was pure and simple slaughter.

  Since the second floor didn’t teach him any basics that would be immediately applied for the third floor, Diyuan felt that difference of two years of experience. It was also harder to identify where he was lacking, as Zun Ji was trying to kill him as efficiently as possible and then move on to the next battlefield. The first time he got his arm cut off was quite the surprise, though thankfully his arm returned to him when he had failed. That wasn’t a one-time occurrence, which told Diyuan how he was overextending in combat. Even if he won after losing a limb, it was still considered a loss and the floor would have to be redone.

  Diyuan considered it interesting that all wounds would heal after a floor ended, but the hand damage from the madman second floor wasn’t automatically healed. Perhaps the pagoda considered that as a self-inflicted wound and couldn’t heal it? Or perhaps “heal” wasn’t the right word at all. The mechanics of a divine artifact were unknown to him.

  The fourth and fifth floor were similar in nature. They were both duels but now had environmental considerations, teaching on situational awareness and foot positioning. A never-ending landslide threatened to swallow him whole, where Diyuan was expected to stay atop the mess; the goal here was to remain lightfoot. For the fifth, a tsunami would swallow the lands and move buildings, ripping them from their foundations. Diyuan had never seen so much water in one place, considering oceans existed beyond the Tribulation Shroud. That trial required him to stay atop of buildings, but then it would eventually reach a point where he was forced under the water, which would result in an automatic loss. It was a timed match.

  That was also when Diyuan realized that the environment weren’t just illusions, as his movements during those floors didn’t make sense in the context of a pagoda’s chamber. But, once again, it was a divine artifact, so he supposed that’s just the way of it.

  As he progressed each floor, he would meditate to refresh and resume. But there came a point where he became mentally exhausted and needed to take a short break. It felt almost necessary in order to digest the things he was learning at a rapid pace. It was always small things, never something that would require days of comprehension. But it added up.

  That was why he was certain the pagoda was teaching him, rather than simply testing him. If he wanted to, he could advance through these floors much faster than he was, though each victory would become increasingly more difficult than the last. Diyuan was determined to pick up on what Zun Ji was trying to show him. Though sometimes it wouldn’t be as easy to understand as the second floor’s madman test.

  Diyuan laid down with his arms stretched out. Did he really gain about a decade of experience already? What would it be like if he fought himself before he stepped into the pagoda? Or rather, what if he had that rematch in the western plains against the other clans? What would be different then? Would he get punctured as many times as he did against that Honglie snake-like arms guy? Would Gu Mugong’s fan cut through his neck? That fan wouldn’t have had the same strength as madman Zun Ji, so maybe he’d be able to deflect it with ease, now that he better understood how to use his body to strengthen his block.

  Speaking of Mugong, Diyuan took out the jade tablet that was inside Mugong’s—now Diyuan’s—ring. He had confirmed that it was indeed the internal arte that his enemy used: Bonegrit Dreadflesh. It was a limited use tablet, where it would vanish after three uses. And it only had one use left. As he suspected previously, it was mainly a defensive internal arte that would spread out the damage evenly. So if he had it instead of his healing arte, the hand wounds he got blocking the madman Zun Ji’s fierce blows wouldn’t really exist.

  If he did want to add it to his arsenal, he’d only be able to do so if he advanced to a prestige level: level 6 Foundation. He technically could do just that without too much of a hassle. He had a great amount of spirit stones, after all. And while he could advance to level 1 Spiritweave this year, he shouldn’t due to the pagoda energy restriction.

  Absorbing the spirit stones would destabilize his energy flow, so he would have to do it in parts, rather than all at once. If he took it slow, he could probably hit level 6 Foundation in a couple of months.

  However, the problem with having multiple internal artes remained. It wasn’t like he had Yunya’s Heavenly Fairy Stance, where he could use both Bonegrit Dreadflesh and his family’s Benediction Balm at once. If he wanted to switch between his healing arte or the defensive arte, he would have to do a full meditation shift. That meant he couldn’t switch it up mid-combat.

  That alone would normally have made him give up on the idea, but Bonegrit Dreadflesh did more than just spread damage; it could also spread strength; or rather, it could collect it. Which meant if he wanted to, he could take the strength from his offhand arm and apply it to his main sword arm. His attacks would keep the swiftness he needed, but now have a huge boost of power backing it. However, it required significantly more energy flow control in order to accomplish properly; that being said, control was now something Diyuan was good at after receiving the Limitless Elixir.

  The downsides of the arte, which Mugong had admitted before the end, was how if the damage was too much, it would instead just directly hit the Foundation core. Strong hits would create overflow and cause damage to the core. However, that disadvantage also went away with Diyuan’s new energy flow control, thanks to Grand Elder Huizhong constantly hitting him near the end of his solitary cave meditation.

  If Diyuan was lucky, this defensive arte might also help with the Emperor’s Rule restriction, which was putting pressure to his Foundation core when it was used to teleport. Out of curiosity, he had attempted to use his teleporting arte to see if his new Foundation core made any difference to it. Unfortunately, there were no changes and the same pressure restriction remained. The amount of control he had on his circulation played no role in how Emperor’s Rule acted. It was almost as if something else determined its power.

  So, overall, that’s what made Diyuan decide that he’ll aim for level 6 Foundation over a period of a few months, absorbing a million or two spirit stones during his downtime. Once stabilized, he’ll resume back to the road towards level 1 Spiritweave. A few months after the new year should tip him over to the new great realm.

  A part of him smiled. He was tempted to not use spirit stones at all. Unlike Yunya, who would have needed to wait until she was 40-something years old to hit level 6 Foundation, Diyuan’s cultivation speed meant that he could probably hit level 6 Foundation at around the age of 27 or so. But was he willing to spend a million or two in order to skip 10 years of cultivation?

  Yes.

  He got up and was ready for the next floor. The themes of each floor continued to build on his foundational needs that he was lacking. He had advanced in footwork and balance, adjusted his overextensions, and cleaned up his stance and advanced it some, but there was more that needed to be trained.

  The “weak point” floor had a new mechanic applied to Zun Ji’s inversely colored body. There was now a stain of purple highlights on its side. The training here was that Diyuan couldn’t hit any spot except that one, and Zun Ji was consciously protecting it.

  The “breath control” floor was an everchanging battlefield where the ground split in a way to keep Zun Ji separated from him, creating a cliff that lifted his opponent out of reach. It was a prolonged battle where Diyuan’s stamina was drained by climbing and jumping up, while Zun Ji could rest at the same time.

  Some things mixed together. Feint recognition and combat rhythm. Distance management and momentum utilization. A unique one was peripheral awareness, where the entire area was filled with mist, unable to see far into it. Zun Ji would jump out for a sneak attack and then disappear back into the mist. Swift counterattack efficiency played a role in that floor, as Diyuan learned of the floor’s rule where he couldn’t strike his opponent unless he first touched Zun Ji’s sword with his own—else Zun Ji would dissipate into the mist, waiting to strike again.

  Diyuan couldn’t keep track of the days he had already spent inside. Truthfully, he had wanted to hit floor 20 faster than what Uncle Xunran expected. But as he climbed, he kept having a sensation that he wasn’t absorbing everything he could. Did he just want to win and climb? Or did he want to grow? He slowed his pace even further and purposely lost and ended the floor in the cases where he felt he hadn’t obtained everything.

  At one point, he was surprised he could just say “stop” and that floor’s simulation would come to an end. No need to wait out the trial’s timer or to purposely die.

  Then he was at floor 18.

  It was the same murky cave as floor 2; same moss, same smell, with the exception of no metallic blood. Zun Ji, who stood at the opposite end of the chamber, had not gone mad. It stepped forward and entered a pose—not of combat, but defense. So Diyuan struck at it, waiting for it to counterattack, but it never did. However, no matter how Diyuan attacked, he could never slip through its defenses.

  It was the opposite version of floor 2.

  Zun Ji was able to block the front attacks easily enough, but once Diyuan switched to flanking attacks, it couldn’t keep up and died. However, that did not pass the floor’s trial and he had to do it again.

  The posture and guard that Zun Ji held was specifically designed to block heavy frontal attacks. Did that mean Diyuan needed to burn his internals to create a wave of strength to break through? He already figured that self-inflicted wounds wouldn’t heal automatically so he’d have to spend time healing after the floor ended, regardless if he succeeded or not. But did that make sense? In floor 2, Zun Ji the madman didn’t succeed in breaking Diyuan’s defenses, so how could Diyuan succeed if this version of Zun Ji’s defense was greater than his own?

  Diyuan was standing there in the cave, thinking, while Zun Ji watched. Regardless, Diyuan had to admit that Zun Ji’s guard was leaps better than what he came up with on floor 2. Which made sense; this was effectively a difference of 16 years of experience from then.

  Rather than try to find a way to break through the defenses, Diyuan decided to see how he could learn from this defense before meditating and thinking on a solution. So he struck and watched, learned, and sometimes stopped to get a better picture on how Zun Ji moved his arms.

  Interestingly enough, when Diyuan didn’t show any intent to strike, Zun Ji didn’t move to stop him or block his vision.

  “You want me to learn this defensive stance,” Diyuan said in realization.

  Zun Ji smiled in response.

  Diyuan continued, learning everything he could. When he put himself into the same pose at Zun Ji, to see how it would feel, Zun Ji stopped its pose and instead moved in front of Diyuan and struck to test it.

  “Ha! Should I call you teacher now, or what?” Diyuan grinned.

  The lesson continued until Zun Ji was satisfied. With a smile of its own, it nodded and vanished. Floor 18 was completed.

  Floor 19 was the culmination of everything. Every floor he had done, he now had to do again in sequence. Floor 1 would appear, the tournament grounds, and Diyuan would have to go through it as he had in the past. But this time, every Zun Ji he faced had 19 years of experience. There were no breaks in-between. After clearing one round, the world misted and moved him immediately to the next. This continued, floor after floor, until Diyuan repeated floor 18, where Zun Ji immediately stepped in to test his defense.

  Floor 19 was completed on the first try, like a written test he had studied extensively for by not rushing through the floors.

  Everything misted and disappeared. The pagoda came into vision again, but with one difference. At the end of the chamber, where there was nothing previously, now had grand stairs leading up to the second tier.

  Diyuan walked up and entered the new chamber. It was the same as the first tier, just slightly smaller. Not that its size mattered, since the illusion world he was brought to always varied in its own size. It was time to challenge floor 20, the apparent wall for so many champions.

  ***

  Xunran was in his office. It had been two months now since he left Diyuan in the Reflections Pagoda. He had expected the young Yuhan boy to come out around a month ago, maybe even earlier than that, considering the pace that was set at the start. But now he was at the normal time limit for Spiritweave cultivators. He would have expected Diyuan to at least leave and feast on real food whenever he reached certain milestones, but he had kept himself inside the pagoda for both months.

  He had then received news that Diyuan finally left the building and was making his way towards the Xuanying Watchers main dojo, no doubt to take Xunran’s offer to come see him once Diyuan hit the floor 20 wall.

  Well, maybe it wasn’t so bad that the kid took eight weeks. Those in the Spiritweave realm had more artes to work with, so that could add a lot of variation, potentially speeding things up. Though while Xunran thought that, he knew he didn’t believe it himself. He had expected more.

  [Don’t be so glum,] Baixue said, her sound transmission sent to him alone. Her face still focused on the paper workload before her. [You limited his use of that teleporting arte and his spirit artifact. Everyone else simply brute forces their way through the floors, which he wouldn’t be equipped to do.]

  Baixue was Xunran’s second-in-command when it came to the Watchers and took charge of everything when he was handling other Grand Elderly business. She looked older in appearance, despite being younger, and always carried that no-nonsense face. Xunran found it especially fun to tease her. She paid him back by being annoying and completing her tasks in his office, to “show you the kind of work you should be doing instead.” A poor attempt to make him feel guilty.

  And yet, they both enjoyed each other’s presence. He purposely gave her more paperwork, and she’d stay around longer in his office, pretending to be exasperated with him. It was a pretense they both knew was a pretense, and yet they never said it aloud.

  The room was big, had long vertical paper windows, and had the smell of paper and scrolls. It wasn’t a place Xunran liked to stay for too long.

  [Did you prepare the squad to help with Diyuan’s training?] Xunran asked. He didn’t bother responding to the limitations he had set for Diyuan. According to the his fellow Grand Elder, Huizhong, Diyuan’s new energy circulation from the Limitless Elixir should benefit other areas of progression as well, in ways that those in the Spiritweave realm wouldn’t enjoy.

  Baixue responded. [At 17 years of age, and with floor 20’s additional 20 years of experience, he should have enough combat skill to keep up with the level 3 Spiritweave trainees’ martial arts. But due to the cultivation strength difference, I’ve set the captain to prepare with the level 2 trainees.]

  [Hmm…level 2 Spiritweave, the power behind their hits would be stronger than what the Pagoda hits him with. That might destroy what little morale he may have left.]

  [Yes,] Baixue said simply. She looked up from her work, her eyes with the default sharp look. That was the look Xunran enjoyed. [He now has the highest Nether Mark placed on him in the last millennia. As skilled as he may become with martial arts, raw cultivation power will always win. And you know scrupulous Dharma cultivators won’t care for etiquette; they will aim to kill him to collect the bounty.]

  Xunran nodded. He would need to tell Diyuan about the Nether Mark by end of day.

  He noticed the unguarded exposed openings that Baixue had; if he wanted to assassinate her, she would die before she had a chance to react. Not that he would ever do that—this was just something he picked up on and never lost the habit of doing.

  [Your blind spot is wide,] Xunran said.

  Despite her not moving, Xunran was able to sense those exposed openings disappear. [Your habit of peeking at women better not lead to dishonorable actions,] she said.

  [Peeking!? You make me out to be a lecher. I just need to make sure my righthand can defend herself.]

  He saw the ghost of a smile try to appear on her stern face. It failed in its revolution and disappeared.

  They had enough time to prepare for Diyuan’s arrive since the young man decided to enjoy the scenery on the way. There was a level of anticipation from the trainees, especially those that weren’t there at the western plains when the Royal Decree was used. That was a sharp contrast with how certain cultivators viewed Diyuan and how the common people of the Zhengyi clan did.

  Diyuan’s name was being dragged through the mud these days. Certain jobs, such as escort agencies, had nothing to do as a result of the ban from all treaty-based pocket worlds. Other groups that relied on pocket worlds to collect materials or demonic beast parts were also reaching from the bottom of the barrel. Discontent would rise, and everyone would point to Diyuan.

  They used to pin the blame on the Yuhan family as a whole. They would sometimes destroy some property that belonged to the Yuhan family, who had their enforcer halls in each of the six cities. That ended rather quickly when Yuhan Ranxi cut off an arm from all perpetrators. After claiming to be in a good mood, she gave them the funds they needed to heal their limbs back on, but stated she might not be in a good mood going forward. The vandalism reign was short.

  She no doubt wanted to do the same to the people who insulted Diyuan, but there was only so much authoritative abuse they could get away with as the Zhengyi’s enforcers. However, that did deter some cultivators from speaking out, as they feared retribution would come at them later if they did.

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  Despite all that, Diyuan’s name became sort of a legend among separate groups of cultivators. About a year ago, people had heard how Diyuan did a gambit against Gu Guoxiong, a level 5 Dharma cultivator, and won. That news had died quickly after everyone realized that the Zhengyi clan received a ban on pocket words. Things changed once again when it was discovered that a Nether Mark was placed on Diyuan—a bounty higher than what had been placed on Xunran back in the day. No doubt from the Gu clan. Unfortunately, that news didn’t really spread far and others were not in the mood to give any sort of praise to Diyuan.

  And so, at the dojo training hall of the Xuanying Watchers, a large group of trainees were waiting. There were even some from the advanced trainee group, those that were level 3 and 4 Spiritweave. They made their way here once they found out they could see this Diyuan in action.

  Then he arrived. Diyuan now stood in the center of the room, which was large enough to allow multiple people to train at once. But it was now reserved for just one person, as everyone else stood outside the center battle area.

  Xunran and Baixue were looking down on the room from the second floor. She had arrived after him and stood closer than anyone else would have, sometimes “accidentally” brushing his shoulders. The books on flirting were always relevant, no matter the age.

  “Welcome back to the land of the living,” Xunran said. “I take it you’re stuck on a floor?”

  Diyuan clasped his fist into his palm. “Yes, Uncle Xunran. I’m here for advice.”

  Xunran nodded, as if he expected this. Floor 20 was a great wall, and it was also the first floor of the “unfair” tier of the pagoda. Most people categorized the first 19 floors as the foundational trials, and the second batch of floors to be unfair trials.

  Odd, though. Xunran was able to sense everyone’s weakness and opening, but what he saw was out of place. For the trainees, he could see where some needed balance training, others needed core strength building, and some were simply standouts that could become vice-captains should they put their mind to it. Yet, for Diyuan, these last two months transformed him completely into something different. It went beyond others who had stepped into the Reflections Pagoda.

  There wasn’t a single level 2 Spiritweave trainee that could match his skill level, in any category. Even his blind spot wasn’t open. A proper Fel, Xunran thought.

  Baixue cleared her throat. [Your jaw is slack.]

  Xunran caught himself and smiled. [Peeking at men during your free time, are you? Raucous as ever. I’ll need to change my bath schedule just in case.]

  When she moved her hand to rub the bottom of her nose to hide her mouth, he took it as his victory. One day he’ll make her smile openly.

  “We’ve prepared our own trial for you,” Xunran said to Diyuan, “then we’ll see what we need to fix to help you move on to the next floor.”

  Diyuan took out his sword; or rather, the sword he had borrowed from Xunran, and stood ready. He looked like he belonged in the dojo, wearing mostly black robes, the same as the Watchers. A small mix of white was part of his outfit, whereas these trainees wore yellow belts, and the captain wore orange; each color indicated their status and rank in the training program.

  Baixue sent some sound transmission instructions to the senior student with the highest cultivation, the dojo’s vice-captain, who would then set the trial up. In essence, they were going to do a mock version of the twentieth floor’s trial. This floor was a wave of enemies. It would be the first time in the Reflection Pagoda where the examinee would be up against more than one opponent.

  The way the mechanic worked was that the first wave would be just one reflection enemy. After ten seconds, two more would spawn. Another ten seconds, then three enemies would spawn. The requirement to pass this floor was to defeat the three waves, or a total of six enemies. The longer it took to take out the enemies, the more there would be by the end.

  The captain in charge of the mock trial sent a sound transmission and instructed which trainee he wanted to go and attack first. This was something all the Watchers were familiar with, as some aspects of the pagoda’s training were brought out and reworked for public use. It wouldn’t be as good as the actual pagoda training, but it certainly was useful.

  Xunran watched as the battle unfolded.

  Diyuan deflected the first surprise attack with ease. If anything, he seemed to show more interest in the throwing dagger he knocked out of the air than the trainee running at him. But even with that split attention, Xunran saw that Diyuan never lost focus on his enemy, despite pretending to not pay attention. That aggravated the trainee, who was never able to land a blow on Diyuan before being defeated, where defeat here just meant a hit to the heart or neck with his weapon, representing a lethal move. The Watcher trainee was defeated before the second wave even started.

  The next two stepped in and now Xunran saw how Diyuan controlled and dominated the battlefield. They were able to land hits, knocking Diyuan back—except the knock back was controlled, placing Diyuan right next to a fallen dagger. Using that surprise dagger throw and some finesse, he defeated the second wave before the third started.

  [Is he really stuck on floor 20?] Baixue asked.

  Xunran was wondering the same thing. The third wave had no chance either. Diyuan now looked like a Vanguard, capable of taking hits from level 2 Spiritweave cultivators without losing his footing. In fact, that was surprising. He was only a Foundation cultivation, yet a level 2 Spiritweave couldn’t break his defense?

  The third wave also ended within ten seconds. The trainees were silent in awe.

  “Is there no fourth wave…?” Diyuan asked.

  The trainees erupted in noise and ran towards Diyuan, who flinched at the massive crowd coming his way. It took him a second to realize they weren’t attacking him and instead were there to congratulate him. Even the captain patted Diyuan’s back.

  Right now, the image of Diyuan the legend that they might have had took solid root. But they also gave him a bit of a little brother treatment. He was the youngest person here, after all. Not to mention some might have an expectation that he would end up joining the Watchers, with his combat style mirroring theirs the most.

  [We should have used level 3 Spiritweave members,] Baixue said. [I thought the strength of a level 2 Spiritweave could make up the difference. It baffles me how he could hold his ground without effort.]

  Which was something the vice-captain also commented on, asking Diyuan to explain how he handled them so easily. The vice-captain was level 5 Spiritweave and knew what the floors entailed, as he was training to win a future Reflection Tournament himself.

  Diyuan seemed to be caught off guard with all the attention, but being the young man he was, he also appeared to bask in it. Diyuan explained how the pagoda set him up for success, where he utilized the counterattack training techniques and the controlled knock back stances. He described how he learned the techniques and some odd things that he realized about the pagoda.

  “Wait a moment, an underwater training segment?” The vice-captain was confused after listening to Diyuan describe some unique trials. “I don’t recall that being a trial from what others said.”

  “Well, it might not be a real thing,” Diyuan said, “but floor 17 for me was an ice training platform, on a frozen lake. It was strange, though, since the ice would shatter after a set amount of time passed, but the trial didn’t end right away—unlike floor 5’s flood. It suggests the pagoda expected me to train in the underwater environment. That’s not the first time something like that happened, for example, on floor 18…”

  Xunran listened as Diyuan explained how he learned the controlled blocking method, mimicking the stances he was taught by his reflection. When the vice-captain asked for an example, the dojo shifted into learning mode and everyone was following Diyuan’s instructions. He slipped into a leadership role quite naturally, calling out when someone’s knee was out of place and praising when things looked good.

  [Floor 18 is not known to be a trial for learning defense,] Xunran said to Baixue. [Everyone overwhelms their reflection by using artes, or they might burn their internals to forcefully get past it, which would result in them wasting a few days to recover before they could move on.] He tapped the ledge he was leaning on in thought. [We always knew there could be multiple ways to pass a trial, otherwise those styled in the Zhengdao Vanguard’s ways wouldn’t reach floor 10 at all. But this is new indeed.]

  Diyuan continued to teach the students. Where Xunran recognized a trainee with a weak balance, so too did Diyuan, who would then help them correct it. Once they understood the gist of the stance, the vice-captain thanked Diyuan, and all the other trainees mimicked his salute.

  Xunran finally spoke up. “Out of curiosity, what floor are you stuck on? Since you’re aware that floor 20 can have more than three waves, you should have passed it already.”

  The news that floor 20 could go beyond three waves was a surprise to the dojo vice-captain. It was known that the examinee only needed to defeat the six opponents to win, but there was a hidden mechanic where it would continuously spawn waves as long as they were defeated within ten seconds.

  Diyuan sheepishly smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, floor 20 was tough, especially since they started using my family’s stun arte on me. I took that as approval for me to finally start using it myself, so it helped me pass it. Right now, though, I’m stuck on floor 27.”

  That got a surprise out of several people, especially those that knew the details that went into the unfair floors. Xunran himself made it to floor 33 within two months, but he also sped through the floors where possible, something he regretted doing afterwards. But floor 27 for someone without Spiritweave artes? Most didn’t even reach that far.

  When Xunran prompted Diyuan to explain why he was stuck, the young man continued.

  “Well, the sword keeps breaking for one. It’s not brittle or anything, but the floor is a ranged course and I don’t have any throwing daggers in my storage ring at the moment.” Diyuan looked down at the sword he had borrowed from Xunran. “They’re using a special formation to degrade weapons and I don’t have backups.” He then muttered something under his breath. “I thought they wouldn’t use anything I didn’t own—a bit unfair if you ask me.”

  That was why he was stuck? Xunran resisted the urge to slap his hand to his forehead. Every other champion trained outside the pagoda between floors and prepared weapons they might need, knowing what trials awaited them. Yet, Diyuan stuck to what he entered with. Not mention he had said he didn’t use his family’s stun arte until the twentieth floor—Xunran was certain he didn’t instruct the young man to not use that arte, only the teleporting one. He had handicapped himself quite a bit.

  But still, a surge of pride crept up. Pride for a fellow Fel.

  [You will need to warn him about the Nether Mark,] Baixue’s voice entered his mind. [This training had the opposite effect of what I wanted. He needs to be reminded he stands no chance against higher level cultivators.]

  Baixue wasn’t wrong in her concerns. While it was true that the trainees weren’t aiming to kill Diyuan during this mock trial, it was also true that they had inherent defenses that would only increase the higher a cultivator went. It could be said that a level 1 Spiritweave cultivator had an innate “layer defense” baked into their body, where a level 2 would have that doubled, and a level 3 would have it be three times as much as level 2. And so on.

  Xunran’s body flashed blue as he zapped right next to Diyuan, bringing the Grand Elder next to the young man; a useful ability he had gained from his artificial spirit artifact wings. “Walk with me,” Xunran said. “Let’s get you a new weapon, using that almighty writ of yours.”

  ***

  Diyuan walked with Uncle Xunran as they made their way to the capital city of Zhengdao. He wore a black hood to help hide his identity, which didn’t look too out of place as the weather was cold for non-cultivators at this time of year. It was a trip that would’ve ended quickly if they flew, but Uncle Xunran wanted to use that time to talk, so walk they did. Diyuan was in a good mood, with how everyone treated him. Some had asked him to come back to the dojo later to check up on their training. The spirit trees and their colorful leaves looked brighter.

  He and Xunran discussed the pagoda for a bit. Diyuan talked about his thoughts and how he felt the skill level of his reflections plateaued at plus 20 years, since they didn’t get individually stronger beyond floor 19 or 20. Maybe that represented how he would have focused on cultivation artes more in 20 years? He likely would be level 3 Spiritweave around that time, so it made sense chronologically—assuming that’s how it worked in the first place.

  The unfair trials were fun, too. Diyuan found the battle experience to be refreshing and also tickled his brain a bit.

  “I managed to get to the fifth wave for floor 20,” Diyuan said, maybe sounding too eager. “I needed to use my stun arte on the fourth, but couldn’t execute people fast enough when five opponents came out. I could still win, but it’d just take longer.”

  Uncle Xunran hummed. Diyuan was fishing for a compliment, he admitted internally. After being washed with praise and attention by the Watchers, Diyuan could recognize that he relished the attention, or maybe it was the validation. Knowing that Uncle Xunran was once a Fel himself made him feel like this group was made for him.

  What Uncle Xunran did instead was show him a sword technique while they kept walking. Uncle Xunran gave tips on switching his grip from a standard hold to a reverse grip, and taught how it could be useful by switching back and forth, especially in close-quarters or when being surrounded by multiple enemies.

  “From now on, hide your identity when you head out,” Uncle Xunran said, his voice closer to a whisper, and a hint of warning.

  Diyuan blinked, more curious than wary. “How come?”

  Uncle Xunran let out a heavy sigh and rubbed his temples, as if he had a headache. “I don’t know who put you up to it, but when you decided—on your own, mind you—to taunt Gu Guoxiong, you went and earned their ire.” He shook his head. It was as if he was disappointed in a disciple that didn’t meet his expectations. “Now they’ve gone and placed a Nether Mark on you.”

  Diyuan’s eyes widened for a second before a grin broke out. He couldn’t hold back anymore and laughed, feeling lighthearted. “A Nether Mark, huh? I still have an artisan’s writ that says you were the one that put me up to it.” He quieted and leaned towards Uncle Xunran. “I’ve never had a bounty on me before. How much is it? My treat if it’s at least a hundred thousand spirit stones.”

  Uncle Xunran gave him the side eye look. In a flash, he lunged and grabbed Diyuan, pulling him into a chokehold. “Trying to blame your elders for your mistakes, are you?” Uncle Xunran said, with the worst “serious tone” voice he could make. “Next thing I know, your sister will attack me from who knows where—probably chop my arm off if she’s in a good mood.”

  Diyuan laughed again, squirming as he felt his scalp burn under the Grand Elder’s knuckles. Finally breaking free, he patted his hair and fixed his hood. He mumbled to himself about how the elderly are just jealous of the youth’s good looks.

  They resumed their walk as Uncle Xunran crossed his arms. “You can laugh, you brat, but it’s a bit more than a simple hundred thousand.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Try five million spirit stones.”

  Diyuan froze in his tracks. Uncle Xunran stopped, too, an actual serious look on his face. Well, five million was still less than what Diyuan had in his storage ring right now, but not every cultivator got as lucky as him. Even Dharma cultivators would come after him; the normal etiquette of cultivation level differences would be completely ignored.

  But then Diyuan smiled again, this time a wicked look. “So, what you’re saying is…I’m pretty infamous now, huh?”

  Before he had a chance to run, Uncle Xunran zapped right next to him and grabbed him into another hold. Despite calling for mercy, the Grand Elder didn’t let go and kept pummeling him. While the playful banter continued, there was now a serious undertone to both of their words. Diyuan was a marked man, and from this point forward, he could expect groups of people targeting him wherever he left the Zhengyi territory, pocket world or otherwise.

  It seemed like the Gu clan really didn’t want to risk him growing further. Whether that was due to insulting the Gu clan’s face, or if it was to prevent Diyuan from becoming another Xunran-like character, they wanted him gone.

  Eventually they reached the city, where Diyuan mysteriously had more bruises than he did an hour ago. They made their way to the artisan road, a place for blacksmiths, talisman forgers, and inventors. Typically, the inventors had their own day once a month, showcasing their rune devices. Plenty of children lounged around those vendors, seeing the rune devices as magical wonders. Small puppet dolls were the biggest attractions.

  Diyuan couldn’t help but notice that the talisman shops had hiked their prices up significantly. The streets had plenty of people, but all of them tended to avoid the talisman section, and those shop owners had the demeaner of knowing no customers would come either.

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out why. Low grade talismans could be made with simple spirit trees, which every tree was a spirit tree, and other basic items. But the middle and high-grade talismans required more complex ingredients; demonic beast blood for ink, their hide for the paper, and their bone for the inscription tool. Not to mention the greater spirit trees, the feathers, certain rock essences…all sorts of things that would come in regularly from pocket worlds had been cut off.

  Welp, was all Diyuan thought to himself. It was technically his fault, but he didn’t blame himself. More important things were at play than a temporary loss of pocket worlds.

  They reached one of the blacksmith vendors. Diyuan knew what to ask for and got a new set of throwing daggers to add to his storage ring. He started to haggle for a sword of his own, as he couldn’t keep using the one he had borrowed from Uncle Xunran, when said person stepped in to interrupt.

  “Show him the writ,” Uncle Xunran said.

  Diyuan took out the artisan’s writ, the one that had Zheng Tianhou’s name on it. One quick look at it made the apprentice shopkeeper’s eyes go wide as he rushed to the back, where a more grizzly man worked, shirtless and sweaty despite the cool air. He looked at the writ then at the two of them. He wouldn’t know who Diyuan was—hood and all that—but he recognized his companion.

  “Grand Elder!” The blacksmith said as he ran forward, saluting in a deep bow. The apprentice mimicked him, but apparently not low enough as the master pushed the younger person’s head down further. “Forgive me for not greeting you properly in a timely manner. This shop is a simple place where I work; it isn’t suited to fulfill any task of the writ here. I would need to take it to our main building.”

  “That’s fine,” Uncle Xunran said. But then privately, he messaged Diyuan. [You can request to have anything you want made. It is my recommendation you don’t request something you can buy with spirit stones. You need a sword, yes? I have the perfect idea for someone in your position, if you’re willing.]

  Diyuan didn’t know what he had in mind, but he simply nodded. It wasn’t a hard ask to trust the former Fel.

  Uncle Xunran spoke for Diyuan. “Take this writ to the guild and have them craft a sword made out of pure black cold steel, the highest quality possible.”

  Diyuan nearly stumbled backwards. Black cold steel? That metal was something that could absorb and diffuse hits like it was a spirit artifact made just for that without being a real spirit artifact. It was difficult to forge anything using it as the base material, and it was very difficult to come by as well. Simply having a tournament stage made out of it was a show of wealth to the other clans.

  The blacksmith nodded. “It’ll take a bit of time to forge, mind you, but aye, you won’t hear anyone deny a writ with the Zhengyi patriarch’s name on it.”

  Once that was all completed, Uncle Xunran brought him back to the dojo and did a special lesson for everyone. The topic had to do with formations, which was the main problem of floor 27’s trial. Diyuan spent a few days’ time there, training with the group under Uncle Xunran’s tutelage. The Watcher trainees were all pleased to receive direct lessons from the Grand Elder himself, and they thanked Diyuan for that.

  The new sword wouldn’t be ready for another two months minimum, so Diyuan returned back to the pagoda once he felt refreshed and ready to continue.

  Having proper range weapons and renewed energy allowed Diyuan to continue his climb through the floors. The “unfair” trials kept true to their name, where he often found himself in a disadvantageous position against multiple Zun Ji reflections, though they kept their plus 20-year skill level. One floor was focused on aerial maneuverability in a forever freefall environment, which wouldn’t have been an issue if he had the level 5 Spiritweave runic wings; he had to make do by kicking off opponents and guiding his fall properly.

  Another floor dealt with target switching, where only the one target out of them all was the correct one, which would then switch after landing a blow. These floors made him think that these could have been some of the more sophisticated artes that some Spiritweave cultivators might have. If not that, then the next closest thing these floors might represent would be a fancy application of a formation array.

  It started to take longer to clear each floor now. The first difficulty was understanding the puzzle he needed to solve, then the execution of solving said puzzle. Diyuan assumed he was getting better and more skilled as time progressed, but it was difficult to measure as none of the matches were simple duels.

  Time blurred. Floor 30 was soon floor 33. He visited the dojo for additional lessons, to the Watcher trainees’ gratitude. Not because he was stuck, but because he realized he could get free lessons from Uncle Xunran. Those sessions included advance footwork and weapon training. Each Zun Ji incarnation was still stuck at the plus 20-year skill level, but Diyuan had already surpassed that. Maybe that was why the second tier of the pagoda were the unfair trials: because the reflection themselves couldn’t keep up with the examinee.

  Then floor 35. Dojo. 37, dojo. Diyuan would talk about what he experienced and what each trial included to their eager ears. Until now, no one had seen as far as Diyuan. The vice-captain suggested that perhaps they could work out the trial’s puzzle together, but Diyuan wanted to reserve that pleasure for himself. Only once he passed a floor would he relay the information back, which would then become officially recorded for the Zhengyi’s clan future training use as needed.

  Then, floor 39 arrived. If it followed the same formula as the first pagoda tier, this would be the capstone trial. And, much like floor 19, which was the gauntlet rush, something unique happened. Something Diyuan wasn’t expecting.

  The pagoda room misted and transformed into a sunlit bamboo forest, spaced enough that nothing could hide within. The smell of earth and sap filled his lungs. A warm breeze weaved through, a welcome feeling of spring.

  Zun Ji materialized from mist, its inverted color still mirroring Diyuan’s appearance. No weapon was in its hand. Instead, it stood casually with one arm on its hip and looked straight at Diyuan. There wasn’t a hint of malice or readiness for combat.

  What surprised Diyuan was that Zun Ji spoke.

  “Well done in getting this far, future immortal,” Zun Ji said, its voice warped and distorted, having a slight echoing quality. It gave off a smirk, enjoying Diyuan’s shock. “Reach the third tier, and we’ll have a proper chat.”

  Diyuan’s jaw was open. “You can talk!?” He always had a feeling that Zun Ji had a personality of its own, with the way it taught him and guided him throughout the trials. But it had never shown signs of speaking before now.

  Zun Ji’s smile only widened. Its eyes showed satisfaction before it dissipated into mist.

  The ground began to tremble, the bamboo stalks swaying wildly. Diyuan gripped a stalk for balance and looked around for the source of the disturbance. Then he saw it. A creature taller than him, and wider than that, stampeding on its four stubby legs: a demonic beast.

  Diyuan’s sword appeared in his hand without calling for it himself, like it willed itself out of the storage ring. In fact, the storage ring itself seemed to stop working all together—his only usable weapon was the sword.

  He shook off the surprise and focused on the new enemy. For the first time since the pagoda trials began, Diyuan was facing an enemy that wasn’t a reflection of himself.