The gong continued to echo through the air as Li Wei approached the Contribution Hall, and by the time he arrived, the disciples of the sect had already begun to gather in large numbers. They stood in clusters, grouped according to their respective halls, each one distinct from the next.
The Blood Hall disciples were the most imposing. Clad in dark red robes, their auras pulsed with aggressive energy. Blood Hall specialized in combat techniques that focused on the manipulation of blood essence, both their own and that of their enemies. Their faces were hardened, eyes gleaming with a thirst for battle. Many carried blades, their qi rippling visibly around their bodies as if they were always on the verge of launching an attack. They moved with purpose, eager for any opportunity to prove their strength.
Next were the disciples of the Phantom Hall. Clad in gray and black robes that seemed to blend into the shadows around them, these disciples specialized in stealth, illusions, and misdirection. Their movements were silent, almost unnerving, as if they weren't truly there. Their faces were mostly concealed by hoods, leaving only their piercing eyes visible. They exchanged quiet, unreadable glances with one another, a sense of mystery lingering around them. Their auras were subtle, and those untrained would have a difficult time sensing their presence at all.
Then there were the disciples of the Shadow Hall—Li Wei's own hall. Their black robes, adorned with silver runes, marked them as practitioners of the sect's signature shadow techniques. However, today, something was different. As Li Wei approached, several of the Shadow Hall disciples turned to look at him, their eyes filled with a mixture of fear and wariness. They had heard the whispers, seen the changes in Li Wei's power. To them, he was no longer just a fellow disciple—he was something more, something darker. Some looked at him as if he were a monster, a being who had tapped into forces they barely understood.
Li Wei ignored their stares. He had grown accustomed to the fear his presence now instilled. The secrets of his power were not for them to know.
Soon, the various deacons from each hall stepped forward, taking their places at the front of the gathering. The Blood Hall deacon stood tall and broad-shouldered, his robes soaked in an aura of violence. The Phantom Hall deacon moved like a wisp, barely making a sound as he took his place, his face hidden beneath a hood. And finally, the Shadow Hall deacon, an older man with deep-set eyes, glanced at Li Wei briefly before turning his attention to the rest of the gathered disciples.
But none of them spoke. Instead, they seemed to be waiting for something—or someone.
Moments later, the sound of footsteps echoed through the courtyard, and a palpable tension filled the air. All eyes turned to the approaching figure.
It was an elder, his presence commanding immediate respect. Dressed in simple yet elegant robes of black and deep silver, his aura radiated an overwhelming power—the unmistakable strength of someone in the Golden Core Realm. His name was Elder Shao, one of the few Golden Core experts within the Shadow Moon Sect, a figure whose reputation had been forged in countless battles. The number of experts in the Golden Core Realm within the sect could be counted on one hand, and each one commanded immense authority.
Elder Shao's face was stern, lined with the marks of age and experience, but his eyes gleamed with a sharpness that betrayed his incredible vitality. As he gazed over the gathered disciples, a wave of silence swept through the crowd. The air itself seemed to thicken under the weight of his presence, and the energy he exuded demanded the attention of everyone present. Disciples who had been murmuring just moments before now stood in rapt attention, aware that they were in the presence of a man who had survived battles that many of them could only imagine.
Elder Shao's voice boomed across the assembly, deep and authoritative, cutting through the anticipation in the air. "A secret realm has opened near the border of the sect," he began, his tone grave yet laced with the potential for immense reward. "An event rare and coveted by cultivators across the land."
At his words, ripples of excitement spread through the gathered disciples. Secret realms were the stuff of legend, spoken of in both awe and fear. They were spaces outside of the normal world, remnants of ancient times that contained both danger and unimaginable treasures. To those who entered, the rewards could be limitless—but so too could the peril.
Elder Shao continued, his gaze sweeping across the crowd. "This is no ordinary secret realm. It is the Ancient Black Lotus Sanctuary, a remnant of an ancient sect said to have vanished more than ten thousand years ago. The Black Lotus Sect, as it was known, was founded by a cultivator in the Nascent Soul Realm. Their knowledge of shadow and dark cultivation arts rivaled our own. The sanctuary within was rumored to house their greatest techniques, rare spiritual herbs, and treasures beyond comprehension."
The murmurs among the disciples grew louder, filled with excitement and apprehension. A Nascent Soul cultivator's legacy was no small matter. The techniques and treasures left behind could elevate even the weakest of cultivators to new heights, but only if they survived the trials within.
Elder Shao's eyes gleamed with a knowing look as he spoke of the opposition. "The disciples of the Roaring Flame Sect and the Verdant Valley Sect have also dispatched their members. They seek to claim the treasures within the Black Lotus Sanctuary for themselves. This will not be a peaceful exploration. The secret realm is not only a test of power and ability, but also of blood and steel. This is a contest of strength, and we will emerge victorious."
The disciples fell silent once more, digesting the gravity of Elder Shao's words. They understood now—this wasn't merely about discovery. It was about survival and dominance.
Elder Shao's eyes scanned the assembled disciples, settling on three prominent figures. "Our success will depend on the strength of our disciples, and leadership is crucial in such a contest. Luo Feng of Blood Hall, Xiao Shuang of Phantom Hall, and Jiang Mei of Shadow Hall," he said, naming the strongest disciples of each hall, all at the peak of entry-level Foundation Establishment, Stage 3.
Luo Feng, a tall and imposing figure from Blood Hall, stepped forward first. His muscles bulged beneath his crimson robes, and his aura exuded raw, violent qi. The disciples around him instinctively gave him space, knowing his reputation for ruthlessness.
Then, Xiao Shuang of Phantom Hall stepped forward. Her familiar figure was draped in the signature gray and black robes of her hall, the faint patterns woven into the fabric barely visible under the shifting light. Though her face was partially concealed beneath a hood, the playful curl of her lips gave away her intentions. As she stepped into view, she caught sight of Li Wei and gave him a subtle, seductive wave, her eyes gleaming with mischief and amusement. Xiao Shuang, as the personal disciple of the Sect Master, was no stranger to power, nor to the attention that came with it. Despite the tension of the moment, she clearly relished in keeping Li Wei off balance, enjoying her role as a provocateur.
Li Wei felt a flicker of irritation but kept his composure. He had encountered Xiao Shuang before, and he knew she was dangerous not just for her skills but for her cunning. Her presence here as the strongest of Phantom Hall was no surprise, though her games had always been a source of mild distraction.
Finally, Jiang Mei from Shadow Hall stepped forward. She was slender but exuded a quiet intensity, her black and silver robes woven with intricate shadow patterns that shimmered as she moved. Her long, dark hair fell over her shoulders, framing a face marked by discipline and sharp determination. When her gaze met Elder Shao's, she offered him a respectful nod before turning her attention briefly toward Li Wei. Unlike the others, her expression was harder to read—cold, even.
Though she acknowledged Li Wei's growing power, there was a flicker of disapproval in her eyes. Jiang Mei had heard the whispers about his rise, about the disciples who had mysteriously vanished or fallen under his hand. For her, strength was something to be respected, but the killing of fellow disciples for that strength was something she would not do. Her disapproval was clear, even if left unspoken.
Elder Shao addressed the three leaders directly. "It will be up to each of you to lead your fellow disciples into the secret realm. The opportunities there are immense, but so are the dangers. You are the strongest of your halls—let that strength carry our sect to victory. The Shadow Moon Sect does not coddle its disciples. Your fate, and the treasures you claim, are yours alone."
He paused, then swept his gaze across the entire assembly. "Remember the teachings of our sect: A disciple's opportunity belongs solely to them. None from the higher generations will take what is yours. It is this principle that has allowed our sect to rise so quickly in strength over the past hundred years."
The assembled disciples, many of them from the outer sect, knew the truth of those words. The Shadow Moon Sect prided itself on allowing each disciple to carve out their own path, even in the face of brutal internal competition. The promise that no higher-level cultivator would interfere in the secret realm gave them a sense of security. Whatever treasures or opportunities they discovered would be theirs alone—provided they could seize them.
As Elder Shao's words resonated among the disciples, the deacons from each hall began to take their places at the front. The Blood Hall Deacon, a broad-shouldered man whose very presence seemed to pulse with violent energy, stood at attention, his face hard and unreadable. The Phantom Hall Deacon moved like a shadow, his steps silent, his features hidden beneath a hood, barely distinguishable from the air around him. And finally, the Shadow Hall Deacon, a man with deep-set eyes and a calm, contemplative demeanor, glanced at Li Wei.
Unlike the others, the Shadow Hall Deacon did not avert his gaze quickly. Instead, he gave Li Wei a brief but approving nod, his expression one of satisfaction. He had heard the rumors about Li Wei, about the strange power that had begun to swirl around him, and it was clear that the deacon was pleased with Li Wei's progress.
As the deacons took their places, Elder Shao continued. "The secret realm has strict restrictions—only those under mid-Foundation Establishment Realm will be allowed entry. That means only disciples at Foundation Stage 3 and below may enter. Those of you who are eligible, prepare yourselves. The realm is volatile, and conflict is inevitable. The Roaring Flame Sect and Verdant Valley Sect will not hesitate to kill you for the treasures inside."
The tension among the disciples grew, but so did their excitement. The opportunity to enter a secret realm and prove themselves was rare, and for many, this was their chance to rise in the ranks of the sect—or die trying.
Elder Shao's voice lowered, but his words carried a powerful weight. "The sect will reward those who perform well. Bring back treasures, defeat the disciples of the rival sects, and you will be recognized and rewarded with contribution points. But remember, in the secret realm, you are on your own. Your survival—and your success—depend entirely on your strength and your ability to seize what lies before you."
With that, Elder Shao stepped back, his words lingering in the air. The deacons exchanged glances, ready to prepare their disciples for what lay ahead.
Li Wei stood silently among the Shadow Hall disciples, his mind already working through the possibilities. The secret realm was a perfect opportunity to test his strength and the strength of the Undead Pavilion that was growing quietly under Azrael's guidance. He couldn't afford to squander this chance.
Azrael's voice echoed in Li Wei's mind, calm and certain. "This is our moment. Use it wisely. The shadows await their ascension."