"I am Ethan Brightsword," said Ethan. He stood tall, his voice flat and calm, entirely unbothered by the suffocating spiritual pressure rolling off the powerful cultivator before him.
"And I am Roy, I have no family na," said Roy. He held his bloody katana at his side, his posture rigid and unyielding as he glared back at the man.
"Good... very good," said the Chief Instructor. He took a slow breath, his sharp eyes lingering on Ethan for a long mont before he glanced at the severed heads on the stairs. "The selection trials are about to begin. Do not overdo it."
To the crowd’s absolute shock, the powerhouse of the Spiritual Soul Realm did not strike them down. Instead, the na Ethan Brightsword was currently ringing like a violent thunderclap inside the Chief Instructor’s ears. He had heard the frantic rumors from the outpost elders earlier that morning.
As the Chief Instructor, he was thoroughly sick and tired of the main sect’s politics. Every year, corrupt observers from the core regions arrived at the frontier, using their imnse influence to secure the strictly limited entry slots for their own diocre noble descendants. The talented, hardworking youths of the frontier were always systematically minimized, bullied, and crushed by the wealthy.
If Roy only knew the true history of his own late father, his chest would swell with absolute pride. His father had been a legendary frontier prodigy who won his reputation through sheer, blood-soaked talent without an ounce of noble backing. But because he lacked resources and powerful allies, the core clans had ruthlessly conspired against him, crushing him into obscurity until his death.
The Chief Instructor secretly loathed those arrogant core elites. The outpost elders had whispered to him that a glimr of hope had finally arrived—a direct heir of the legendary Brightsword lineage who possessed the raw power to shatter the core clans’ arrogance and wash away the frontier’s humiliation.
As the Chief Instructor turned and walked away, giving his silent approval, the remaining youths from the Sword Saint clan exploded in pure rage.
"You backwater bastard, you actually slaughtered our personal guards!" said the leading heir of the Sword Saint family. He marched forward, his face twisted with venom as he drew a magnificent jade-hilted rapier. "You are not even worthy of sweeping the dust off my grandfather’s boots! I will bring blood justice down upon your head in the na of the Sword Saint!"
"Die, you peasant trash!" said the noble youth. He lunged forward with terrifying speed, his blade suddenly erupting into a vibrant, blinding blue aura. The air temperature instantly plumted, unleashing a bone-chilling frost that coated the stone steps in ice.
"Look at that aura!" said a spectator from a core clan, gasping in awe. "As expected of the legendary Sword Saint’s direct bloodline! That is genuine Sword Intent!"
"The backwater brat is completely dead," said another noble heir, a sneer on his lips. "There is absolutely no possibility of surviving against the profound techniques of the Sword Saint!"
"Master, he is mine," said Roy. Instead of panicking, a wild, ecstatic grin broke across his scarred face. "You do not even need to move a single muscle for this garbage."
"Show him what real hell feels like," said Ethan.
"With pleasure!" said Roy. He planted his feet firmly onto the icy stone, his eyes narrowing as he concentrated every ounce of his focus. With a fierce roar, he unleashed his own Sword Intent. Although his aura was visibly lower in raw cultivation stage compared to the noble, it was incredibly dense, firm, and forged through the agony of having his own limbs severed all week.
BOOM!
The two opposing Sword Intents collided dead-center in the plaza like an invisible explosion. A violent shockwave of pure, sharp energy erupted from the clash, tearing up the stone pavent and releasing a suffocating pressure that forced the nearby weak examinees to scramble backward in terror.
"Protect the young masters!" said an old elder from a core clan. High up on the viewing platforms, several powerful elders instantly extended their hands, unleashing barriers of spiritual qi to violently disintegrate the stray remnants of the clashing Sword Intents, desperately protecting their own fragile heirs from being lacerated by the shockwave.
"Impossible!" said a young master from the core clans, his face turning completely pale as he nearly tripped over his own robes. "A backwater peasant from the frontier unleashed genuine Sword Intent?!"
"At such a young age?!" said a noble mistress, her eyes wide with sheer disbelief. "No way! This cannot be real!"
The entire plaza fell into absolute, chaotic shock. Cultivators from the wealthy families scread in denial, while others bitterly cursed their own luck, having spent decades training without ever grasping even a sliver of that profound realm. Yet, a naless boy in basic frontier armor had just matched the core world’s elite peak.
"Who the hell is this Roy with no family na?" said an old elder from the viewing platform, his fingers trembling against his staff.
Every single person in the crowd was suddenly asking themselves the exact sa question. They stared at the black and gold armor, completely paralyzed by the sight of a dirty, common youth who possessed the raw, terrifying power to force the direct grandson of the legendary Sword Saint to take a step back.
"I did not train you all week just to see you display such a pathetic, weak collision," said Ethan. He stood completely relaxed behind his disciple, his deep voice cutting through the shocked silence like an icy blade. "Is that truly the absolute best you have learned under my guidance?"
Roy’s ecstatic grin vanished instantly. Ethan’s calm words triggered a violent surge of mories inside his mind—the agonizing screams, the sll of his own burning flesh, the green healing liquid, and the terrifying, relentless shadow of his master slicing his limbs off over and over again in that bloody courtyard. He had looked straight into the face of a literal god of death and barely crawled back alive.
Compared to the absolute hell Ethan had put him through, the chilly blue aura of the noble youth before him felt like a gentle breeze.
"No, Master!" said Roy. He gritted his teeth so hard they nearly shattered, a wild, demonic fire exploding in his eyes as he gripped his katana with a white-knuckled hold. "I will not bring dishonor to your na!"
"Co here, you arrogant piece of garbage!" said Roy.
With a deafening roar, Roy lunged forward with everything he had. The firm, basic Sword Intent he had displayed a mont ago suddenly warped and twisted, instantly erupting into a suffocating, dense mountain of pure murderous intent. His bloodlust overflowed into the plaza like a roaring, crimson sea, his eyes reflecting the cold, terrifying glare of a warrior who had repeatedly stared down his own demise and lived to tell the tale.
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From this mont forward, to avoid confusion regarding cultivation ranks, I will include this footer with the current established levels.
Note: These are only the ranks ntioned so far to avoid spoilers.
Body Refinent Realm
Skin Refinent / Bone Refinent / Organ Refinent
Spiritual Gathering Realm
Spiritual Perception / Spiritual Mist / Spiritual Condensation
Spiritual Core Realm
Core Solidification / Core Awakening / Spiritual Collapse (Half-step Spiritual Core)
Spiritual Soul Realm
Spiritual Soul Awakening / Soul Nourishing / Soul-Core Fusion
Golden Core Realm
Pri Fusion / Core Perfection / Core Destruction
Spiritual Sea Realm
Stage 1 ?? / Stage 2 ?? / Stage 3 ??
Dao Manifestation Realm
Stage 1 ?? / Stage 2 ?? / Stage 3 ??
Spiritual Transcendence
Stage 1 ?? / Stage 2 ?? / Stage 3 ??
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