Chapter 352: Grade One True Merit!?
Chapter 352: A First-Class True Art!?
At the Sword Pavilion's Hall of Reception, Lü Yang held three long incense sticks in his hand. Wispy blue smoke curled around him, and suddenly, thunderous voices seemed to echo in his ears, questioning him as if from ten thousand mouths:
"Have you colluded with the demonic path?"
"Do you harbor treacherous intentions?"
"Have you awakened past-life memories?"
Three incense sticks, three questions. Under the swirling blue smoke, Lü Yang's avatar had no capacity for deception and instinctively answered:
"None whatsoever!"
His voice was firm and unhesitating, utterly forthright.
After all, as an avatar, he was completely innocent—he harbored no treacherous intentions, had not awakened any past-life memories, and as for colluding with the demonic path, that was the original body's doing.
What did it have to do with an avatar?
The next moment, the avatar snapped out of it, realizing everything had been an illusion. Only the three burning incense sticks remained steadily clasped in his hand.
Yet Lü Yang could sense that these incense sticks were no ordinary objects. The reason he could hold them steadily was because he had passed the three questions' test. Had he failed, they would have instantly ignited his body and soul, reducing him to ashes.
With this in mind, Lü Yang strode into the Hall of Reception.
Though he had deliberately played ignorant before True Person Dangmo, through the Yun Family Patriarch, he had long since familiarized himself with the Sword Pavilion's inner workings.
'The Hall of Reception is especially crucial!'
This wasn't merely a place to verify one's origins—it was also where one's inheritance was determined. The better one performed here, the stronger the inheritance received!
'Truly worthy of the Sword Pavilion—it's evenly matched with the Saint Sect.'
In the Saint Sect, profound cultivation techniques had to be exchanged for Contribution Points—in other words, one had to toil like a beast of burden, either rising against the odds or becoming mere fertilizer.
The Sword Pavilion was no better.
The Hall of Reception judged solely by one's origins. The advantage was not having to labor like livestock, but the downside was that if one's origins were lacking, their fate was sealed—no chance for rebellion.
One was a beast, the other a sword.
Each had its merits—there was a reason they stood as equals.
Upon entering the Hall of Reception, Lü Yang was surprised to find several youths inside, as young-looking as his avatar but slightly more ethereal.
'There's more than one Hall of Reception.'
Lü Yang understood immediately—these youths must be undergoing tests in other Halls of Reception, their images synchronized here.
Sure enough, some of them noticed him.
But after a brief glance, they paid him no further mind, continuing to grip their incense sticks and grit their teeth as they pressed forward into the hall.
"I will definitely make it inside!"
Among them was a plain-faced youth, his expression resolute, eyes blazing as he muttered to himself: "Approach the shrine by a hundred paces to become an outer sect disciple; thirty paces for inner sect; ten paces for true disciple; and to offer incense to the patriarch—that marks an Innate Sword Seed!"
With that, he took a step forward.
Thud!
Though nothing visibly obstructed him, the youth's body suddenly trembled violently, each step an immense struggle until he halted at eighty paces.
"No—eighty paces!?"
The youth clenched his teeth. Eighty paces only qualified him as an outer sect disciple, limited to seventh-class techniques or lower—condemned to Qi Refining for life. How could he accept that?
"I'll risk it!"
In the next instant, the youth steeled himself and took another step—but the moment he did, countless fissures erupted across his body.
In the blink of an eye, he was drenched in blood.
Thud!
The youth collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
This bloody spectacle thoroughly frightened the other youths, who thereafter dared not push themselves recklessly—if they couldn't advance, they promptly gave up.
Their fates were sealed from that moment onward.
'Cultivating immortality in the Sword Pavilion isn't easy either...' Lü Yang sighed inwardly.
Thankfully, he had cheats.
'[Sign of Fortune Drawing], draw for me!'
The fortune his avatar had painstakingly accumulated over eight years of suffering erupted at this moment, coalescing into a radiant golden lot:
[Event: Enter the Hall of Reception and offer incense to the patriarch]
[Minor Auspicious: Your origins are decent—approach the shrine by nine paces, qualifying as a true disciple.]
[Least Auspicious: Though your origins are decent, as a split soul, your foundation is shallow. Only with unyielding Dao Heart can you approach within three paces.]
[Great Auspicious: Your fortune surges, paired with profound origins. This Hall of Reception is but flat ground to you—you offer incense effortlessly.]
'Great Auspicious it is!'
The next moment, Lü Yang felt an inexplicable power surge through him, as if heaven and earth conspired in his favor. He strode confidently toward the shrine.
A hundred paces, thirty paces, ten paces... three paces!
Boom!
At that instant, every Hall of Reception within the Sword Pavilion lit up simultaneously, startling True Person Dangmo outside. His eyes flashed with astonishment.
In his view, Lü Yang's past life had been a Foundation Establishment True Person—one who had slain the master of Mending Heaven Peak at mid-stage perfection. Approaching within ten paces to become a true disciple was expected. But three paces? That was extraordinary—it indicated profound comprehension of the Sword Pavilion's Dao!
'Could he be another Sword Seed?'
True Person Dangmo's brows lifted slightly, a pleased expression crossing his face. Eight years had passed since the True Lords of the world retreated into seclusion, and the ensuing chaos had gradually subsided.
'The demonic sects north of the river produced two perfected Foundation Establishment cultivators to maintain stability.'
'Jiangxi's Pure Land remains as tranquil as ever—rumor speaks of a Buddha-Son's descent.'
'The greatest impact was on the Jiangdong Dao Court—with the Son of Heaven, Grand Preceptor, Grand Tutor, and Grand Protector all in seclusion, the Crown Prince has barely managed to stabilize the court...'
It was clear—the Great Contention Era was approaching!
'I will inevitably have to contend in it. If I can nurture a successor to wield the Sword Pavilion's authority before then, that would be no small achievement.'
True Person Dangmo's thoughts whirled.
Meanwhile, inside the Hall of Reception, Lü Yang had reached the shrine and steadily placed the three incense sticks upon it.
The next instant, blue smoke billowed forth!
As Lü Yang inhaled the smoke, darkness engulfed his vision, and countless characters flooded his mind, coalescing into a cultivation method:
《Sword Lord's Secret Chapter on Discussing Mysteries》!
'This is—'
After fully digesting the information, Lü Yang's original body in the Hidden Sword Manor widened his eyes in shock: 'This thing is a first-class true art!?'
Before he could react, an anomaly occurred.
"Damn it!"
Through [Puppet on Strings], Lü Yang watched in horror as his avatar's fortune—painstakingly accumulated over eight years of Mandating Destiny and Upholding Precepts—was abruptly seized by the shrine's blue smoke. After circling within the shrine, it slowly returned to him...
But what returned was no longer his fortune.
It was [Sword Pavilion Fortune]!
'In other words, from today onward, I only have usage rights over the fortune I worked so hard to accumulate? Ownership belongs to the Sword Pavilion, which can reclaim it anytime?'
How was this any different from selling himself?
And the most absurd part—
'This fortune smells wrong—it's not mine!'
It was someone else's fortune! Merely categorized under [Sword Pavilion Fortune]!
In a daze, Lü Yang seemed to glimpse countless karmic threads within that fortune—innumerable evil deeds and karmic debts now imposed upon him alongside it!
And what of his pristine fortune?
Had it been given to some Sword Pavilion True Person?
At this thought, Lü Yang's hands trembled with rage.
No wonder the Sword Pavilion favored disciples with profound origins—who wouldn't love a perfect scapegoat?
'You sword bastards!!!'