Daoist Competition

Zhang Yan passed through halls and pavilions, traversing several grand observatories along the way, encountering no prohibitive barriers.

Upon reaching halfway up the mountain, he arrived at the last great temple before the end of this particular mountain path. Gazing out into the distance, he saw the sea of clouds churning, wispy and ethereal. Though he had ascended to an exceptionally high point, there were still two peaks separating him from the summit.

The peak was guarded by prohibitive formations, and without a proper path, Zhang Yan hesitated to fly recklessly, lest he inadvertently trigger an array.

While searching for a way forward, his gaze swept across the mountain wall and spotted a precarious cliffside trail, resembling a Heavenly Ladder, seemingly leading to another ridge. Smiling faintly, he leapt forward, speeding along the narrow and treacherous path.

As he moved through, he observed numerous cave mansions carved into the mountainside, their arrangement meticulously aligned according to the heavenly stems and earthly branches.

Having once resided in the Lower Court, Zhang Yan found such sights familiar and thought to himself: "This must have been the dwellings of low-ranking disciples of the Yao Yin Sect in ancient times. Those temples I passed earlier—no doubt the Lower Court of the Yao Yin Sect."

After only a short while, he came upon the end of the trail. Following the path to a left turn, he suddenly encountered a massive stone ten zhang tall blocking his route. With its top-heavy shape, it appeared as though a gentle push from behind could send it tumbling down.

Finding himself at a dead end, Zhang Yan raised an eyebrow and skirted around the stone’s backside. True enough, he discovered two cave entrances carved into the rock wall, both extending approximately several hundred zhang deep, faint glimmers of light visible at the opposite openings.

He smiled softly, his feet barely touching the ground as he floated inside. Moments later, upon exiting the cave, daylight broke forth, causing him to momentarily squint before descending to the ground.

This spot appeared to be on the mid-slope of the second-highest peak, with the terrain leveled and expansive, surrounded by lush, verdant trees in abundance.

A grand three-arched mountain gate with flying eaves and steep gables stood before him, topped by a ferocious Demon Flood Dragon statue perched upon the roof ridge. In front of the gate stood a Qiu Jin Bai tree, its branches and leaves flourishing, its trunk so large it would take ten men to encircle it.

Following the straight mountain path upward, he could see in the distance an eight-sided towering pavilion with a pointed roof.

With his sharp eyesight, Zhang Yan observed that the pavilion was covered with treasure blue glazed tiles, draped in a layer of bright yellow Dharma Cloth. Bat copper bells hung beneath its flying eaves. He mused to himself, "Such a design is unlikely to be ordinary within the sect."

Pausing for a moment, he transformed into a plume of azure smoke, passing through the mountain gate and continuing his upward flight along the path, arriving at the tower instantaneously.

Only then did he get a clear view—the octagonal pavilion stood sixteen stories high, constructed entirely from polished jade, with jade railings encircling its base.

Hovering in the void, Zhang Yan descended slowly, noting that the entrance path was paved with jade plates engraved with turtle and crane patterns, auspicious cloud motifs. Before the pavilion stood a Mysterious Stele inscribed with star map designs, though it was heavily damaged, its scars and surrounding rubble suggesting that it had recently been forcibly broken.

Hearing faint voices inside, Zhang Yan stepped onto the ground and entered through the doorway.

Upon entering, he was surprised to find dozens of cultivators in varied attire, seated cross-legged against the walls, seemingly channeling mana to refine something.

He scanned the area, noting rows of niches lining the tower walls, each holding a Magic Artifact radiating brilliant luminescence. At an initial glance, there appeared to be no fewer than three hundred of these artifacts.

In an instant, he understood—this pavilion must have been where Yao Yin Sect disciples stored their Magic Artifacts, possibly the artifact refining site of old.

However, each Dharma Treasure was sealed by forbidden techniques, requiring the cultivators to painstakingly choose one and work tirelessly to refine it.

Zhang Yan, being one of the Top Ten Disciples of the Mingcang Sect, possessed several True Artifacts and carried a discerning eye. Naturally, such Magic Artifacts failed to capture his interest. But this was merely the tower’s first layer; with sixteen layers in total, the upper levels might hold something more extraordinary. His curiosity stirred, he ignored the others entirely and began ascending.

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The cultivators below watched him climb with visible relief.

Most of them were at the first or second realm of Xuan Guang cultivation. Despite Zhang Yan’s concealed appearance, his imposing cultivation level still radiated palpable pressure, making their backs stiff and none daring to look his way.

Zhang Yan ascended swiftly, passing nine layers in succession. Each level contained the same array of ordinary Magic Artifacts, indistinguishable from those on the first floor. Moreover, each floor housed a dozen or so cultivators diligently channeling mana to refine the seals.