The Immortal Path Is Crowded

At the heart of the western courtyard, surrounded by elegant pagodas, stood the teleportation formation. The arrays of the white jade arch pulsed with a power that made space itself tremble.

There, seventeen formidable auras gathered.

“The Blood Qi of the Crimson Demon Sect is notorious for staining the spiritual matrices of weapons,” a young man remarked, his blue robe fluttering without wind. His voice was deep. “It will be tedious to purify my axe after bathing it in their entrails.”

“Staining?” Another young man’s laughter was sharp and full of disdain. His silver robe gleamed, catching the light. “Are you planning to fight with sticks and stones, Brother Jian? A pulse of my Divine Sense will be enough to collapse their seas of consciousness. They are ants who do not understand the vastness of the heavens. The real problem—” his gaze shifted toward the gray-clad disciples “—is stealth. The puppets of Shadow Marionette Peak are noisy. Their spiritual threads will leave a trail that anyone can detect from a hundred li away.”

The disciple with the scar across his brow did not even turn. His lips barely moved, his voice a cold whisper that reached everyone present.

“The only threads you should fear, Feng, are the ones that might entangle your soul if your arrogance leaves it exposed. My puppets will handle their task, while you waste your spiritual energy on useless displays.”

The atmosphere froze, the intent to clash simmering beneath the surface. Just then, two completely different presences approached.

One was a whirlwind of pure vitality, bright and unrefined. The other was an abyss, a void so deep and serene it could not be fathomed.

“Senior Brother Wei, look! The energy here is so dense! Grandpa said this arch can take us to the other side of the continent in an instant!” Su Qingli’s voice cascaded with excitement, a waterfall in the middle of a frozen lake.

Wei Han walked beside her, his white robe immaculate, his entire being in such perfect harmony that it almost seemed nonexistent.

“Wei Han… the new disciple of the Sect Master?” one of the black-robed disciples muttered, his arms like tree trunks crossed over his chest. “What is he doing here?”

“And he’s with the Supreme Elder’s granddaughter…” another in blue added, incredulous. “Is a massacre of demonic cultivators really a place for her?”

Completely ignoring the whispers, Su Qingli pulled Wei Han toward the group with a radiant smile.

“Hello, seniors!” she greeted with a small bow, her enthusiasm overflowing. “My name is Su Qingli! Senior Brother Wei and I will be going with you! I hope we get along!”

The statement, so innocent, left everyone speechless. The tension that had filled the place dissipated, replaced by an awkward bewilderment.

Wei Han simply nodded once in greeting, his silent presence, in its own way, more imposing than any words.

The arrogant Feng now looked at the Supreme Elder’s granddaughter with a frozen expression, not daring to say anything out of line.

As Wei Han observed the senior disciples impassively, his perception—usually as calm as a frozen lake—detected a sudden disturbance. A presence had bloomed out of nowhere right behind him, as abrupt and solid as a mountain rising from the sea.

He turned, his indifferent motion masking his internal surprise. Before him stood a colossus. The disciple, nearly two meters tall, wore the black robe of Jade Peak, though the fabric strained to contain the mass of muscle bulging from his shoulders, chest, and arms. Despite his intimidating physique, his face bore a wide, energetic grin that seemed ready to split it in two.

“Hahaha! So this is the kid!” the giant roared, his voice a friendly thunder. “The manifestation of Heaven and Earth you created a year ago turned all the Elders upside down! They said the sect might finally produce a true dragon!”

Wei Han did not even have time to process the accusation. The instant the giant finished speaking, a vast and imposing aura crashed into him. It was not malicious, but the pressure was absolute. It was as if a primordial mountain—proud and immovable—had chosen to rest upon his shoulders. The air around him thickened, gravity seemed to multiply tenfold, and every bone in his body protested under the invisible weight.

Beside him, Su Qingli continued observing the group with curiosity, completely unaware of the assault. The giant’s aura was so exquisitely controlled that it focused on a single point in the entire world: Wei Han.

The ground beneath his feet threatened to crack. His knees trembled, ready to give under the crushing force. It was then that a fleeting trace of genuine anger crossed Wei Han’s otherwise empty gaze for the first time. It was not the anger of humiliation, but the primordial fury of a sword that refused to be bent.

A nearly imperceptible glint surfaced in his eyes. His sword intent manifested—an invisible cut slid through the dense pressure. The mountainous aura was not pushed back; it was sliced. The unbearable weight split in two and dissipated like smoke, leaving the air light once more.

The colossus in black robes blinked. The broad grin on his face froze for a moment, transforming into an expression of pure and genuine surprise. Then, a thunderous laugh—far louder than before—burst from his mouth, making the entire courtyard tremble.

“HAHAHAHA! Incredible! Not a treasure—a monster! You can cut through the pressure of my Tyrannical Mountain Physique with pure intent! How interesting! Very, very interesting!”

The booming laughter of the Jade Peak disciple slowly faded, but amusement and intense curiosity still burned in his eyes as he looked at Wei Han as if he were a newly discovered treasure.

“Good! Very good!” he said, clapping his hands with a sound like colliding boulders. “You’ve got a sharp spirit in such a small body. Let’s see if that edge of yours can withstand what comes next…”

He raised a hand, his palm already glowing with a dense, earthen light, preparing to unleash even greater pressure. But before he could act, a cold, indifferent voice—sharp as winter wind—resounded behind him.

“That’s enough, Xiong Li. Stop playing with the newcomers. I understand your curiosity toward anything ‘strong,’ but do not tarnish the image of the core disciples by behaving like a brute.”

Everyone turned. Walking forward with absolute calm and a grace that seemed to make the very ground feel honored, a “young” man approached.

His white robe was immaculate, without a single crease, and his long, ink-black hair cascaded down his back. At his waist hung a simple-looking sword, yet it radiated a quiet nobility.

The newcomer passed by the muscular Xiong Li without stopping, but his gaze briefly shifted, landing on Wei Han.

The instant their eyes met, a sharp, illusory sound seemed to echo in both their minds. It was a clash of sword intents—a silent and deadly test.

A faint smile of genuine appreciation bloomed on the white-robed youth’s face.

“A remarkable sword intent,” he said, his tone still distant, as if commenting on a fine piece of calligraphy. He did not lower himself; he merely stated a fact from his elevated position. “It is still in its infancy, but the foundation is of the highest quality.”

Then, his gaze shifted toward Su Qingli, and he gave her an almost imperceptible nod of greeting.

“Senior Brother Ling!” she exclaimed, waving energetically, her familiarity contrasting sharply with his cold indifference.

He did not respond verbally. Without another word, and without looking again at Xiong Li or Wei Han, “Senior Brother Ling” continued his calm stride, joining the main group of disciples waiting by the teleportation arch—where his mere presence seemed to elevate the status of everyone around him.

Seeing Ling Chen walk away with that icy aura of indifference, Xiong Li’s enthusiasm deflated like a punctured balloon. He completely lost the desire to keep “playing.”

“Tch… always so boring,” he muttered, his voice a low, grumbling complaint. Then he turned toward Wei Han, and the broad grin returned to his face, though this time tinged with a hint of sympathy.

“I pity the kids of your generation, little monster. With someone like you as their peer, they’ll have a hard time even seeing your back.” He winked.

With that, the colossus of Jade Peak waved a hand in farewell and strode toward the main group with heavy yet steady steps, his presence merging with the others.

Only when Xiong Li’s imposing back had disappeared did Wei Han fully relax his sword intent. The air around him returned to normal, losing that nearly imperceptible sharpness. Beside him, Su Qingli tilted her head, completely confused.

“What was he talking about? Who’s boring?” she asked, having no idea of the test of strength she had just witnessed.

Wei Han did not respond. He simply began walking toward the arch, where the others had already gathered. Seeing him leave, the girl hurried after him.

Just as they were about to reach the group, a figure appeared, walking calmly along the path. It was a middle-aged man in a simple violet robe, his appearance completely ordinary. Yet the moment he was seen, a wave of silent respect swept through the young geniuses.

The first to react was the white-robed youth. He performed a perfect martial salute, fist and palm pressed together.

“Grand Execution Elder,” he said, his cold voice tinged with unmistakable deference.

The man in the violet robe gave a slight nod, his gaze sweeping over everyone before settling on the white-robed youth.

“Ling Chen,” he said, his voice calm yet carrying authority. “You will lead this mission. We have discovered a branch of the Crimson Blood Sect. Your task is to exterminate it.”

After issuing the order, his gaze shifted toward the newcomers—Wei Han and Su Qingli. He hesitated for a second, a nearly imperceptible crease forming on his brow, as if weighing something.

“By direct orders of the Sect Master and the Supreme Elder,” he continued, his tone leaving no room for argument, “these two will accompany you. Make sure they return.”

The implication was clear. The extermination mission now carried the added burden of protecting them; the already dangerous task had just become infinitely more complex.

Without another word, the Execution Elder turned and walked with firm steps toward the imposing jade arch. The disciples watched in silence as his hands moved, tracing a series of complex gestures in the air, channeling his spiritual energy into the central array.

“Inside the circle,” he ordered, his voice calm yet impossible to ignore.

Ling Chen was the first to move, followed by the rest of the disciples, who took their positions in silence within a large circle etched into the ground before the arch. Wei Han and Su Qingli were the last to step in.

The moment they did, the formation came alive. A blinding torrent of spiritual energy began to be drawn from the spirit stones embedded at the base of the arch. The lines of the array flared with furious intensity, devouring power with insatiable hunger. A deafening hum filled the air, and the space around the group began to visibly distort.

Just as the light was about to reach its peak, the Execution Elder cast one last glance at the two children who originally had nothing to do with this mission. A deep crease of doubt crossed his brow as he questioned inwardly.

What are those two cunning old foxes planning? Sending their own granddaughter and their youngest disciple on an extermination mission? This makes no sense…

An instant later, the array reached its zenith. A pillar of pure white light engulfed all nineteen youths, a silent flash flooding the area. And then—nothing. The circle was empty. The western courtyard returned to its serene stillness, as if they had never been there.

The Execution Elder remained staring at the spot where they had vanished, his thoughtful gaze fixed on the empty space. After a long moment, a barely audible murmur slipped from his lips.

“With Ling Chen in command and Xiong Li as support… nothing out of the ordinary should happen…”

Though his words sounded certain, the tone of his voice suggested that even he did not fully believe them.