Feng Yunxian stood at the edge of the mountain path, his eyes fixed on the imposing gates of the Iron Spirit Sect. The towering walls were carved from dark stone, their surfaces smooth and cold. The gates, wrought from iron, gleamed in the pale morning light, giving off a sense of foreboding and power. Beyond them lay the heart of one of the most renowned sects in the region—a place where the strongest martial artists and cultivators gathered to hone their skills.
Lin Yue had made good on her promise. She returned after three days, and now, here he was. Standing on the threshold of a new chapter in his journey.
"This is it," Lin Yue said, her voice breaking the silence. She stood beside him, her gaze locked on the gates as well. "The Iron Spirit Sect."
Feng Yunxian remained silent, taking in the sight. The sect radiated an aura of authority, and the energy here was far denser than in the village or forest where he had been cultivating. He could feel it in the air—the power that flowed through this place, a tangible presence that pulsed with life.
"Follow me," Lin Yue said, stepping forward.
The gates opened with a low groan as they approached, and Feng Yunxian followed her inside. The sect's inner grounds were vast, far larger than he had anticipated. Buildings of various sizes and shapes sprawled across the mountainside, connected by stone paths that wound through gardens, training fields, and meditation halls. Disciples in sect robes moved about, some engaged in sparring matches, others in deep meditation.
As they walked, Lin Yue explained the layout of the sect. "The Iron Spirit Sect is divided into three main divisions: the Outer Sect, where new disciples start; the Inner Sect, for those who have proven their worth; and the Core Sect, where only the most elite cultivators reside. You'll begin in the Outer Sect, like everyone else. From there, it's up to you to advance."
Feng Yunxian nodded, though his mind was already racing with possibilities. He wasn't here to simply blend in. He had a purpose—revenge, and reclaiming his rightful place in the Chaos. The Iron Spirit Sect was a means to that end, a stepping stone on his path.
They reached a large building, its exterior adorned with intricate carvings of mythical beasts and weapons. Lin Yue gestured toward it. "This is the Hall of Records. You'll register here as an official disciple."
Feng Yunxian stepped forward, pushing the door open. Inside, the hall was dimly lit, with shelves lined with scrolls and jade slips. A stern-looking elder sat behind a large desk, his eyes sharp and calculating as he regarded Feng Yunxian.
"New recruit?" the elder asked, his voice gravelly.
"Yes," Lin Yue replied, stepping forward. "He's here to register."
The elder nodded and motioned for Feng Yunxian to approach. "Name?"
"Feng Yunxian," he said, his voice steady.
The elder raised an eyebrow, his pen pausing for a brief moment before continuing. "Background?"
"None," Feng Yunxian replied. He couldn't afford to reveal too much, especially not here.
The elder looked at him skeptically but said nothing further. After a moment, he handed Feng Yunxian a token engraved with the sect's insignia—a fierce-looking dragon coiled around a sword.
"This marks you as an Outer Sect disciple," the elder said. "Keep it with you at all times. Lose it, and you'll face punishment. You're expected to attend training sessions, complete tasks assigned by the sect, and advance through cultivation. Prove yourself, and you may be granted entry into the Inner Sect."
Feng Yunxian accepted the token with a nod. He could feel the weight of it in his hand—a small symbol of his new identity within the sect.
As they left the Hall of Records, Lin Yue led him toward the Outer Sect's living quarters. "You'll stay here," she said, pointing to a modest building near the edge of the sect grounds. "It's not luxurious, but it'll do. The resources you receive will depend on your performance."
Feng Yunxian entered the small room assigned to him. It was simple, with a bed, a desk, and a meditation mat. He sat down, running his fingers over the smooth surface of the token. Joining the sect had been a necessary step, but now the real challenge began.
The days that followed were grueling. The Iron Spirit Sect was not a place for the weak. Training sessions were intense, with disciples pushed to their limits, both physically and mentally. Feng Yunxian quickly realized that while many of the disciples had talent, few possessed the discipline or drive to truly excel. Most were content to follow the routines, practicing their techniques and absorbing energy from the environment at a steady pace.
But Feng Yunxian had no intention of taking things slow.
He spent every waking moment cultivating, pushing his body and mind to their limits. When other disciples rested, he trained. When they meditated, he delved deeper into his own cultivation, drawing on the remnants of his knowledge from his previous life in the Chaos. His progress was rapid—far more so than anyone expected.
Word of his abilities spread quickly. Though he had only been in the sect for a short time, other disciples began to take notice. Some were curious, others envious, but few dared to approach him. There was an intensity about Feng Yunxian, an aura that set him apart.
One evening, as Feng Yunxian was practicing a sword technique in one of the sect's training fields, he sensed a group of disciples approaching. He continued his practice, his movements fluid and precise, but his senses remained on high alert.
"Feng Yunxian," a voice called out, sharp and challenging.
He finished his movement before turning to face the speaker. A tall, broad-shouldered disciple stood at the head of a small group, his eyes gleaming with arrogance. His name was Zhang Wei, one of the more prominent disciples in the Outer Sect. Known for his strength and quick temper, Zhang Wei had a reputation for bullying weaker disciples.
Feng Yunxian remained calm, his expression unreadable.
"You've been making quite the impression," Zhang Wei said, his tone mocking. "But don't think for a second that you're better than the rest of us. You've barely been here a week."
Feng Yunxian didn't respond. He had no interest in petty confrontations, but it seemed Zhang Wei was determined to provoke him.
"I'm challenging you to a duel," Zhang Wei continued, his smile widening. "Let's see if you're as good as they say."
The other disciples watched in anticipation, eager to see how this would unfold.
Feng Yunxian's gaze remained steady. He could sense Zhang Wei's strength—it was impressive for an Outer Sect disciple, but nothing compared to what he had faced in the Chaos.
"I don't have time for this," Feng Yunxian said coldly, turning away.
Zhang Wei's smile faltered, anger flashing in his eyes. "Are you afraid?"
Feng Yunxian paused, then glanced back over his shoulder. "I'm not afraid," he said quietly. "I'm just not interested in wasting my time."
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, there was silence. Then, without warning, Zhang Wei lunged forward, his sword drawn, aiming for Feng Yunxian's back.
But before he could strike, Feng Yunxian moved. In a blur of motion, he spun around, his hand flashing out to grab Zhang Wei's wrist. With a single, fluid motion, he twisted, disarming Zhang Wei and sending him crashing to the ground.
The other disciples gasped, shocked by the speed and precision of Feng Yunxian's movements.
Zhang Wei lay on the ground, clutching his wrist, his face twisted in pain and humiliation.
"I warned you," Feng Yunxian said, his voice calm but filled with authority.
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Zhang Wei and the others in stunned silence.