Chapter Fifteen: Ascending the Mountain

His voice suddenly grew louder, drawing Zhao Ling’s attention from the side. When she saw who it was, she couldn’t help but be taken aback. Senior Brother Zhao Jinian from Huayang Peak—what was he doing here?

Despite his youth, Zhao Jinian was already a Foundation Establishment cultivator. While he had yet to enter the inner sect, he was fairly well-known; rumor had it the elders of Huayang Peak were considering appointing him as a steward. Zhao Ling felt a pang of envy. She was considerably older than he, but compared to his prospects, she fell far short.

At that moment, she heard Su Bailu’s cool, clear voice: “If you have nothing else, little junior brother, please leave.” Little junior brother? Who was that?

Before Zhao Ling could puzzle it out, Su Bailu took Xiao Bao by the hand and, as if suddenly remembering, added, “Forgive me, I forgot you’re no longer the little junior brother. I should address you as Senior Brother Zhao from now on.”

“Su Bailu, don’t go too far!” Zhao Jinian’s face flushed red with anger. He shot a resentful glance at the well-behaved young boy beside her. From her words, had the old man taken this child as a disciple as well?

Hmph. The child was already so grown, yet showed not a hint of cultivation. How could he possibly amount to anything?

A sharp hiss escaped Zhao Ling as she listened to their conversation. She stared, eyes wide. So this Foundation Establishment senior and Su Bailu were fellow disciples? Yet one hailed from Huayang Peak and the other from Qingfeng Mountain—completely unrelated sects. Did this mean…?

She turned to look at Lin Ze not far away, her mouth agape in astonishment. Just how many disciples did Senior Lin have?

“I’m not here to argue with you. Step aside,” Zhao Jinian composed himself and looked again toward the foot of the green mountain. “You can’t honestly believe he’ll pass the Eightfold Sword Array, can you?”

Before Su Bailu could reply, Zhao Ling was already shaking her head reflexively.

This formation was a closely guarded secret of the inner sect. Unlike other arrays meant to repel invaders, this one was designed by Sword Immortals to test their juniors, embodying the array-setter’s understanding of the sword, broken down into eight questions. A single wrong answer would bring punishment.

Of course, for those who succeeded, it was akin to receiving the full inheritance of a Golden Core-grade Sword Immortal—a rare opportunity. Yet, each sword cultivator’s comprehension was unique; there was no “correct” answer. Unless someone was a personally taught disciple, who would dare to attempt it?

When Immortal Qin set up this array, he never meant for anyone to pass it. He was simply being capricious, wanting to give the outer sect elders a hard time. Everyone knew this.

“Unless Immortal Qin himself sent him,” Zhao Jinian sneered. “Do you think that’s possible?”

Foundation Establishment cultivators could barely claim the title of “Master.” Only those at Golden Core could be called “Immortal.” How could such a lofty figure care about a mere itinerant at the early Foundation stage?

He finished with a scornful glance at Su Bailu, hoping to jolt them into reason, but saw no trace of disappointment on her face.

Zhao Ling stole a glance at Lin Ze in the distance. If they’d had any doubts before, Zhao Jinian’s words seemed to offer them a possible explanation. If a Golden Core demon king couldn’t move him, then perhaps knowing a Sword Immortal of the sect wasn’t impossible after all.

“Hah! A bunch of lunatics!” Zhao Jinian scoffed, flicking his sleeve and cursing, “Out of your minds.” He’d bet Lin Ze wouldn’t even make it past the sword scars before obediently leaving Dongyue Sect.

At that moment, the onlookers began to cry out in surprise. “He’s there! He’s there!”

“Hey, why did he stop?”

“He’s sitting down again!”

They saw the daoist in green robes sitting cross-legged at the foot of the mountain. Zhao Jinian withdrew his gaze, shooting Su Bailu a mocking look. “So? What now?”

Su Bailu acted as if she hadn’t heard, simply staring intently at the distant figure, her hand tightly clenched in her sleeve.

Time crawled by. The watching disciples began to lose patience, jeering from the sidelines. “If you’re too scared to go up, just admit it. Why put on airs—does he really think he’s an elder?”

“Let’s go, it’s a fake,” someone sighed, turning away.

Even Zhao Ling began to waver. If he truly knew Immortal Qin, why linger at the foot of the mountain and invite ridicule?

Yet Senior Lin didn’t seem like someone who would put on an act. What was he doing?

…

…

Lin Ze sat upright before the sword scars and said quietly, “Did you see those people just now? If you turn back and leave through the gate, you’re as good as dead.”

“Only by moving forward is there a chance at survival.”

He spoke these words for himself—or more precisely, for the daoist within the simulation.

He had to break through the sword array. In his mind, Qingfeng Mountain was already his property; he would not allow himself to be stopped outside. But there was a method to breaking the array.

The best way was to use the simulator and try repeatedly.

To do this, he had to make the character card genuinely believe there was no way out. Otherwise, knowing his own tendencies, once the simulator started, the daoist would first consider how to escape.

With the simulator in hand, Lin Ze had five more chances than anyone else. Even if luck failed him today, he could wait for the simulator to refresh tomorrow. There was no real danger.

The main problem was that he couldn’t control the actions of the daoist inside the simulator. To keep him from backing down, Lin Ze had to make sure he understood the situation: without the simulator, carrying the precious Qingfeng Seal, he’d be lucky to flee a single mile from Dongyue Sect.

Retreat meant death. The only way was forward.

He didn’t think himself particularly clever, but he was no fool. A character card modeled after him shouldn’t be so dim as to miss this simple logic.

[Host Card Added: Lin Ze]

[Skill Card Added: Dongyue Breathing Technique]

After tossing in the materials, Lin Ze slowly stood, stepped over the sword scars on the ground, and strode toward the stone steps.

Such a simple movement drew the attention of everyone present.

“Wait, he’s moving!”

“You don’t actually think he’ll climb the mountain, do you? If he gets past those sword scars, that’s impressive enough,” a few disciples chirped, laughing. The sword intent in the formation was enough to paralyze the unprepared with terror.

But before the words faded, surprise appeared on all their faces.

The green-robed daoist had already stepped lightly onto the stone steps. The one who’d been speaking choked on his own spit, coughing and pounding his chest to recover.

Zhao Jinian stood still, expressionless, but inside he felt as though he’d been slapped repeatedly. After a long moment, he managed to say, “He’s only pretending to be calm.”

Yet his heart was in turmoil.

He’d tried the sword array himself. The countless strands of sword intent that had appeared had left his legs trembling; he’d fled in disgrace.

That old man’s cultivation was similar to his own—how could he walk through so easily?

Still, surprise aside, he refused to believe the man could truly pass the Eightfold Sword Array. Entering was nothing; taking five steps forward was the real test.

All the outer sect elders had stopped at the fifth step of the stone stairs, and there was good reason for it.

Meanwhile, Lin Ze continued his slow ascent.

Only after passing the sword scars could one glimpse the mountain’s true form. The oppressive sword intent on either side of the path, like gathering storm clouds, was what sucked the vitality from this peak.

But after witnessing the might of the Black Cloud Demon King, little else could frighten him.

Sword intent rang out in unison, sharp and piercing.

Standing on the fifth step, Lin Ze halted. A message flashed in his mind—succinct, concise, a single word:

“Leave!”

One could almost see the domineering shadow of a Sword Immortal behind the voice.

The first five steps were only a warning. Beyond this point lay the true Eightfold Sword Array, with no chance to turn back. No one knew how severe the punishments set by its creator might be; not a single elder had dared test it.

Lin Ze suddenly smiled and bowed toward the mountaintop. “Thank you.”

He had worried the daoist in the simulator might lose his nerve, but someone had given him the perfect nudge.

[Simulation begins]

[Simulation time: three months]