Chapter Ninety-Four: Like Master, Like Disciple

Measured by physique alone, Lin Ze should have been among the weaker cultivators at his level.

After all, this body had once been in a state of utter decline. Though his life span had increased after his breakthrough, patching up a small part of what had been lost, it still could not compare with those cultivators who established their foundation in the prime of life.

It was only because no one had yet truly managed to injure him that this weakness had remained hidden.

Only after he endured the sword tribulation did he understand just how fragile this body truly was.

The simulation ended.

A prompt flashed across the panel.

Lin Ze opened his eyes. The fear in the depths of his gaze had not yet fully faded. His trembling hand reached toward the teacup on the table, but he could never quite lift it.

After taking several deep breaths, he looked at the strange pill beside him and, almost by instinct, felt the urge to put it away... no, to throw it away outright.

Thirty-six pills.

This thing was equal to the combined medicinal power of that many dragon-bone elixirs.

It had forced the Taoist to endure four tribulations in succession within just three days, and only by borrowing the external force of sword energy had he barely managed to digest it all.

More importantly, by accident, it had led him to discover the fastest method of cultivating the Nine Tribulations Sword Body.

Even though, during the past three years, most of his time had been spent refining medicine and searching for medicinal ingredients, the time devoted to actual cultivation had still not been less than two months. Now, that span had been shortened by more than several dozen times.

First take the pill to strengthen the body, then use sword energy to stimulate the apertures. This was sheer brute force.

Using sword energy to assist the body in digesting the medicinal power was more like forging: while the body was in a state akin to a sword blank, it was hammered out blow by blow.

The effect was several times better than the former. Of course, the cost was equally terrible. By the end, the Taoist was nearly on the verge of mental collapse, his expression vacant and foolish, and it took him a full half month to recover.

As a method of cultivation, Lin Ze rejected it.

The reason he was still hesitating was that in both simulations, the final outcome had been to survive four sword tribulations, yet the endings were completely different.

In the first, the Taoist had easily withstood the four tribulations, his physique greatly strengthened, and there seemed to be no problem.

But in the second...

Lin Ze lowered his head to look at his body. If he remembered correctly, that frost-like sword qi had finally merged completely with the Taoist himself.

Every gesture and movement radiated a sharp edge, as though even bare palms could rival sword qi.

Compared to that, this time looked far more like the bearing a spiritual-grade technique ought to have.

No matter how arduous the process, Lin Ze at least knew the result was good.

By ordinary reasoning, once one has experienced it once, the heart should naturally grow less afraid.

But in fact, the opposite was true.

That hideous pain still lingered in his mind, impossible to shake off, and he even felt greater pressure than the Taoist inside the simulator.

...

Three days passed in the blink of an eye.

For the others on Azure Mountain, aside from their master remaining in secluded cultivation, everything seemed no different from usual.

At noon, a steward from the Southern Hall came up the mountain path.

After hearing the purpose of his visit, Wang Yao turned back with a trace of hesitation.

He was not the eldest senior brother of Azure Mountain, but he was the most steady among them, and matters like this were usually handled by him. Su Bairu and the others rarely intervened.

Now that even Wang Yao could not make up his mind, the others quickly gathered around.

“Elder Lin is in secluded cultivation,” the Southern Hall steward said with a furrowed brow.

“Did he say how long he would need?” asked someone.

Su Bairu shook her head and smiled apologetically. “Master did not say.”

At that, the steward’s expression darkened slightly. He sneered, “How amusing. I, Kong Fang, have governed the Southern Hall for so many years, and this is the first time I have seen a mountain gate evade a demon calamity in such a manner.”

At those words, even the mildest-tempered Wang Yao clenched his fists.

Yang Mu nearly went so far as to dig up the other man’s ancestors from their coffins.

To the cultivators of Azure Mountain, those words were no different from pointing at someone’s nose and hurling an insult calling them a cowardly lackey.

Su Bairu glanced at the crescent pattern on the other man’s robe, bit her lip, and stopped her two junior brothers with an outstretched hand. “Please rest assured, Steward. Azure Mountain has never had such intentions. You are a dignified golden-core immortal; surely you understand that secluded cultivation is a common thing among cultivators.”

Kong Fang gave her a sidelong look. “Every mountain gate must send out at least three cultivators. I do not care whether Elder Lin intended it or not. In any case, the number cannot be short.”

As he spoke, three iron tokens appeared in his hand.

“I’ll go!” Yang Mu’s eye twitched as he reached out indignantly.

Kong Fang lifted his palm slightly, causing him to grasp empty air, and only then said indifferently, “I know you, boy. I am old acquaintances with Guo Nanfeng. How could I not recognize you? What kind of Azure Mountain disciple are you supposed to be?”

Yang Mu’s eyes widened in shock.

Though he held some resentment toward that uncle of his, he had to admit the man possessed a lofty standing among cultivators. In the sect, anyone who knew him addressed him as Senior Guo.

This steward before him was the first to call him by name.

Wang Yao reached out. “This disciple is willing to go.”

“The first in the Eighth-Branch Earthly Stem cycle?” Kong Fang looked at him with interest, then glanced around and sighed. “For a mountain as large as Azure Mountain, to end up letting a disciple who has been in the sect for less than ten years make the decisions. Interesting.”

“Since your master is too afraid to show his face and has sent you little ones to take the risk, what use is there in staying at this mountain gate? You might as well come back with me to the Southern Hall.”

Su Bairu’s hand shot toward her sword hilt.

But the first to respond to Kong Fang was a shrill monkey cry.

White-gray inner force flowed erratically throughout Wang Yao’s body. His palms rose slightly, and he had already taken the stance of the Inch-Breaking Mountain-Collapse Palm. Looking solemnly at the crescent-marked steward, he said, “If senior dares insult my master again, then even knowing I am no match, I will have no choice but to spill my blood upon Azure Mountain.”

His voice was calm, with no trace of threat in it, sounding more like a statement of fact.

After confirming that the other man truly intended to strike, Kong Fang’s face darkened. “You ungrateful whelp. Even if your master were standing before me, he would not dare raise a hand like you.”

For a Foundation Establishment cultivator to bare his claws at a golden-core immortal was simply unheard of.

Let alone merely teasing him with a few words. Even if he were truly to point at Lin Ze’s nose and curse him to his face, he would only have to bear it honestly.

The Southern Hall had no elders. The crescent-marked steward was its highest authority, a status even above most mountain-gate elders.

And yet he did not notice that by the distant spiritual spring, a white fox had slowly lifted its head.

It licked its paw in silence, seeming to hesitate over whether to slap it down, and muttered inwardly:

“This sovereign is only able to lie here obediently. What kind of courage does some puny early golden-core cultivator have?”

Just then, within the quiet wooden hut, there finally came the faint sound of footsteps.

The man in the green robe opened the door and stepped out.

His face was pale, and fatigue could not be hidden in his eyes.

He slowly walked toward Kong Fang.

“Master!” Xiao Bao cried in delight.

Lin Ze waved a hand, his voice hoarse. “Hand it over.”

Kong Fang looked at the Taoist before him, who seemed to have just suffered a serious illness, and could not help being stunned. Could it be that the so-called secluded cultivation was not an excuse after all, but that he truly needed to recover from injuries?

Seeing him frozen in place, Lin Ze frowned slightly and extended his hand.

Beneath the wide sleeve, that wrist was as flawless as white jade.

His long, slender fingers came to rest on the iron token.

Snap.

The token broke cleanly in two without warning, the fracture smooth and fine, as though severed by some blade.

Kong Fang lowered his head slightly and stared blankly at the half-token in his hand, his jaw clenching all at once.