Vessel of Worlds

The Taixu Sect had dispatched three Foundation Establishment cultivators to lead its outer-sect disciples on this Dragon Descent Valley expedition.

Besides the middle-aged woman who handled the spirit stone changes—a cultivator at the middle stage of Foundation Establishment—there was a scar-faced middle-aged man, also at the middle stage. The third was a cold, aloof young man surnamed Chen whom Andy had never once heard speak. His cultivation was unfathomably deep, clearly surpassing the other two by a considerable margin—almost certainly late-stage Foundation Establishment.

Andy had encountered plenty of Foundation Establishment cultivators by now, but these two gave him a distinctly different impression. Even a momentary meeting of eyes was enough to make him instinctively look away—he couldn't hold their gaze for even a single breath. The phrase "commanding without anger, radiating killing intent" might have been coined for people like them.

According to Sect Master Xiong's introduction, both men were survivors of previous Dragon Descent Valley expeditions. Both had risen from outer-sect disciples, distinguished themselves during their valley missions, earned Foundation Establishment Pills as rewards, and ultimately broken through to Foundation Establishment. The cold young man surnamed Chen had even caught the eye of a Taixu Sect elder and been taken on as a personal disciple. He was now one of the most outstanding cultivators among the sect's younger generation.

Among the Taixu Sect's many Foundation Establishment cultivators, only the ice-attribute Variant Spirit Root cultivator surnamed Leng could rival his reputation—and Leng owed much of his fame to the rarity of his spirit root. This cultivator surnamed Chen was said to possess only ordinary spirit root aptitude, but had fought his way through countless battles and killed several cultivators at his own level. His name carried weight not just within the Taixu Sect, but across all seven great factions of Jinyan Kingdom.

The scar-faced cultivator, while less renowned than the young man surnamed Chen, was no less dangerous. He was said to have killed a cultivator whose cultivation exceeded his own, and the three-cun scar across his face was the memento of that fight. For a cultivator, healing a scar like that was a trivial matter—but this man had deliberately left it, letting the ugly mark dominate half his face and giving him a fearsome appearance that made anyone who looked at him flinch.

Sending these two as escorts served a dual purpose: to deter anyone with ill intentions, and to stand as living proof before the disciples that success was possible—inspiring them to fight harder.

When the Taixu Vessel descended slowly onto the desert sands under the guidance of its three Foundation Establishment escorts, the several hundred Qi Refinement cultivators who had been waiting couldn't help staring at the magnificent golden dragon vessel. Murmurs of admiration rippled through the crowd, until a few Foundation Establishment cultivators from other factions swept the whisperers with cold gazes, and silence returned.

The Taixu Sect's disciples disembarked one by one, with the three Foundation Establishment cultivators coming last. Once the young man surnamed Chen had stepped off, the middle-aged woman cast a technique at the vessel. In an instant, it shrank to less than a chi in size, flew to her palm, and vanished into her storage pouch in a flash of white light.

"Benefactor Chen, it's been years! I didn't expect us to be leading teams together again." A monk whose belly was even rounder than a woman's in her final month of pregnancy came waddling over, fanning himself with a tattered banana-leaf fan, and greeted the young man surnamed Chen with a broad smile.

The young man gave the monk a faint nod and said nothing.

The monk seemed to have expected this. Without missing a beat, he turned to the other two Taixu Sect Foundation Establishment cultivators and bowed. "This humble monk is Dingyuan. Might I have the pleasure of your names?"

The other two, seeing a late-stage Foundation Establishment elder addressing them, hastened to return the bow. "Shen Mo, at your service," the scar-faced man said. "Lou Lan, a pleasure to meet you, Master," the middle-aged woman replied with a graceful bow of her own.

Before the introductions were even complete, six or seven more Foundation Establishment cultivators approached—apparently the team leaders from the other factions.

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While the Foundation Establishment cultivators exchanged pleasantries, the Taixu Sect's disciples turned their attention to the several hundred cultivators in diverse robes gathered across the desert sands.

Andy gave them a quick scan and counted six distinct groups—the other six factions of the Three Sects and Four Gates.

One group was immediately recognizable: shaven-headed monks in uniform deep-yellow robes. These could only be disciples of the Pure Light Sect, the only Buddhist faction among the seven.

To the right of the Pure Light Sect stood a mixed group of men and women in wildly varied, colorful garments. Every one of them had peculiar pouches strapped to their waists—bulging, with something apparently alive squirming inside. These were obviously spirit beast pouches, which meant these cultivators belonged to the Hundred Spirits Gate, renowned for breeding and commanding spirit beasts. The thought of the venomous insects and strange creatures stuffed inside those pouches gave Andy goosebumps.

Further to the right was another uniformly dressed group—men and women in blue-green robes with their hair pinned up in topknots, styled like Taoist priests and priestesses. These were clearly from the Jade Pure Gate.

Two more factions looked much like the Taixu Sect's own contingent—mixed groups of men and women in various attire, distinguished only by the faction names embroidered on their robes.

The most eye-catching group, positioned at the center of the six, was the Lanyue Sect. Among the seven factions, the Lanyue Sect was the only one with a predominantly female membership. The sect specialized in cultivation techniques tailored specifically for female cultivators, many of which carried the added benefit of preserving beauty and youthful appearance. The handful of male disciples were cultivation partners of female members who practiced dual-cultivation techniques.

Rumor had it that the Lanyue Sect's recruitment standards for female disciples went beyond spirit root aptitude and cultivation level—physical appearance was also a requirement, with a minimum standard of above-average beauty. Combined with the natural skin-nourishing effects of cultivating spiritual energy, the result was that every Lanyue Sect disciple looked as though she had stepped out of a painting—luminous skin, radiant features, every gesture carrying an almost supernatural allure.

Andy couldn't help sneaking a second look—only to catch one of the Lanyue Sect disciples casting a coquettish glance directly at him. His face reddened, and he instinctively looked away.

He steadied himself, and when he turned back, his gaze was ice-cold, stripped of any emotion.

He noticed that it wasn't just the Taixu Sect's disciples stealing glances at the Lanyue Sect. Male cultivators from all five other factions were doing the same—including, to Andy's amusement, more than a few of the Pure Light Sect's monks and the Jade Pure Gate's Taoist priests, who were either openly or furtively admiring the Lanyue Sect's beauty.

The Lanyue Sect's flower-like cultivators seemed to thoroughly enjoy the attention. Far from showing displeasure, they would occasionally return an enchanting smile in the direction of whoever was looking. Even the Pure Light Sect's shaven-headed monks received their share of these "return gifts." Quite a few young monks and priests turned beet-red with embarrassment.

Andy even had the impression that the Lanyue Sect women showed greater interest in the monks and Taoist priests than in anyone else—a good half of the flirtatious glances seemed aimed squarely at those two groups.

Andy was watching this peculiar scene with detached amusement when a low, resonant bark cut through the air.

"Hmph!" It came from Shen Mo, the scar-faced cultivator. The sound was not loud, but it struck every Taixu Sect disciple's ears like a thunderclap—clearly infused with a thread of spiritual power and delivered through some specialized technique.

Every pair of eyes that had been lingering on the Lanyue Sect's beauties snapped instantly toward that scarred face. The contrast was jarring enough to feel like waking from a dream.

Shen Mo spoke in a hard, flat voice: "Listen carefully, all of you. The several hundred Qi Refinement cultivators you see here will, in one day's time, become your mortal enemies. If you encounter any of them inside Dragon Descent Valley, it will be kill or be killed. If you can't resist their charms—if you go soft before the fight even starts—you've already lost three-tenths of your will to fight, and you're as good as dead at their hands. If you want to come back alive, purge every last one of those filthy thoughts from your heads."

He paused, then continued: "Remember this. Once you're inside the valley, strength is the only law. If you meet someone stronger, get as far away as you can. If you meet someone weaker, strike without hesitation. The pretense of honor and mercy has no place in that valley. In truth, it has no place anywhere in the cultivation world. A powerful cultivator who encounters a weaker one and doesn't like something about them will simply kill them on the spot—it happens every day. And relying on someone far stronger than you, trusting them to protect you—that's nothing but handing your life over to someone else. It's the most foolish thing you can do. Keep your fate in your own hands. That is the way of cultivation. Those of you who make it out alive will understand this truth far more deeply than you do now."