Contrary to the elder from the Frozen Serenity Sect who was clearly disappointed, Elder Han and Elder Rong had small smiles—after all, one of their competitors had just withdrawn, which increased their chances of successfully recruiting the four talented disciples.
“So, what do you think about the Flame Sovereign Sect’s proposition?” inquired Elder Rong.
“We’re still more aligned with the philosophies of the Wandering Sword Sect.”
For a moment, Elder Rong’s expression turned unpleasant. His sect had just been rejected again, which was especially irritating for someone with his volatile temper. Still, controlling himself, he spoke through gritted teeth, “The Flame Sovereign Sect is willing to increase its offer. We will now not only offer you the position of Core Disciples and an access to the Scripture Pavillion privileged even amongst the Core Dicisples—”
He paused briefly for dramatic effect. “We will also offer you a generous amount of high-quality cultivation resources—above what is typically given to Core Disciples.”
His gaze landed on Mikael, and a ‘knowing smile’ appeared on his face.
“And we will also offer you two beautiful and untouched maids.”
Instantly, the atmosphere in the room shifted. A colder pressure filled the air as a flicker of well-hidden hostility appeared in the eyes of the three beauties, their gazes all landing on Mikael—each of their silent stares daring him to even consider accepting.
‘Maids…’ he thought, momentarily tempted, before crushing the thought. As enticing as it was, the idea of being sold maids left a bad taste in his mouth. It wasn’t wholly unacceptable to him but it still left a bad taste in his mouth so if he could he wanted to evade it and the heavy stares pressing down on his back made it all too clear what the girls thought about the offer. But even without that, he had no intention of negatively impacting his future by choosing the Flame Sovereign Sect because of some random beautiful women.
Because of this, Mikael calmly responded, “Thank you for the generous offer, but we still want to join the Wandering Sword Sect.”
“Grr…” Elder Rong gritted his teeth before snapping, “Are you sure about your choice!?”
Before Mikael could reply, Elder Han—sensing the tension rising between them—decided to strike while the iron was hot.
“The Wandering Sword Sect is also willing to raise its offer. In addition to the previous benefits of Core Disciple status and privileged access to the Scripture Pavilion, we will now provide an even greater share of high-grade cultivation resources than your peers—along with a rare opportunity to become the personal disciples of one of our Great Elders.”
Gasps and low murmurs rippled through the onlookers nearby. Several disciples and elders from minor sects, who had been observing the exchange from a distance, now exchanged glances filled with disbelief and envy. Such generous terms were rarely offered—even to high-ranking inner sect disciples—let alone to newcomers.
“Fools,” Elder Rong scoffed, loud enough for all to hear. “Talented they may be, but they’re far from worthy of becoming the disciples of a Great Elder. I see the Wandering Sword Sect is squandering its resources.”
With those words, the elder of the Flame Sovereign Sect turned and walked away, his robe billowing behind him. He no longer spared even a glance toward the four youths. Yet, despite his outward scorn, his departure was clearly a calculated effort to preserve his reputation in front of the surrounding crowd.
Though defeated in this recruitment contest, Elder Rong crafted the illusion that he had withdrawn by choice. By framing the Wandering Sword Sect’s generosity as a reckless waste, he shifted attention away from his failure. Among those watching, a few nods of agreement masked their curiosity, but most saw it for what it truly was: a man choosing pride over open humiliation.
Elder Han gave no reply to the insult. He stood with a calm expression, visibly satisfied. His silence spoke louder than any retort—his sect had just secured a valuable group of recruits.
As for Mikael and the girls, they showed no reaction to Elder Rong’s bitter words. They simply watched his retreating figure in silence. They had no need to respond.
None of them cared about his opinion, and it was clear to everyone with a discerning eye that his words were hollow. His earlier desperation to win them over contradicted his parting remarks.
If he had genuinely believed they weren’t worth the effort, he wouldn’t have competed so fiercely.
In the end, his retreat was nothing more than a final attempt to cling to whatever pride he had left in front of an audience.
Elder Han turned toward them, a small smile tugging at his otherwise sharp and composed features.
“You’ve made a wise choice,” he said warmly. “From this moment onward, you are officially disciples of the Wandering Sword Sect. Since we are all members of the same sect now, there’s no need for formalities—you may simply call me Senior Brother Han. ‘Elder Han’ is a title best reserved for outsiders.”
“Senior Brother Han,” the group echoed in unison.
He nodded, evidently pleased by their response. Without dragging the moment any further, Senior Brother Han turned and gestured for them to follow.
“Come. There’s no need to linger here.”
Together, they exited the hall, passing by the curious gazes of numerous onlookers still present within the Evolution Center. Although most pretended to go about their own business, many couldn’t help but steal glances and listen in, captivated by the unfolding conversation between the four extraordinary talents and the recruiters from the Three Overlords Sects.
As they crossed the courtyard, the murmurs gradually died down, and a sense of solemn anticipation followed the group as they were led by the composed and confident figure of Senior Brother Han.
Once they reached the open space just outside the building, Senior Brother Han waved his sleeve with practiced ease. A subtle pulse of his divine sense rippled outward, and in the next instant, a sleek flying boat shimmered into existence midair. Intricately carved runes etched into the hull glowed softly, pulsing with spiritual energy that resonated with a low, harmonious hum.
“I imagine flying is still somewhat unfamiliar to you,” he remarked, casting them a knowing glance. “After all, you’ve only just broken into the Spiritual Foundation Realm. And even if you could fly, this vessel is much faster—and considerably more comfortable.”
At his invitation, they stepped onto the flying boat. Its surface was steady and smooth beneath their feet, a clear sign of its expert craftsmanship. Slowly, the vessel began to lift off with a controlled, serene hum. Under normal circumstances, flight within a major city like Watermoon was strictly forbidden. Typically, such an act would have attracted immediate attention from city guards demanding explanations. However, with the unmistakable insignia of the Wandering Sword Sect proudly displayed on the boat’s side, no one dared intervene.
The vessel rose steadily into the sky, leaving behind the dense sprawl of Watermoon City. Buildings shrank into specks as they ascended, and the scenery transformed into an expansive panorama of winding rivers, rolling forests, and towering mountains stretching into the distant horizon.
“Let me take this opportunity to tell you a little more about the sect,” Senior Brother Han began, standing at the bow with his hands clasped behind his back. His posture was relaxed, but his voice carried the dignity of experience. “The Wandering Sword Sect has stood strong for over three thousand years. Unlike many sects that cling to lineage or background, we judge only what truly matters—progress, conviction, strength, and of course, talent.”
He paused, letting the words settle in the wind as the boat cut through the sky.
“We take pride in molding those who walk the sword path into cultivators who carve their own fate, with blades in hand and resolve in heart.”
His voice remained calm, but each word carried weight, as though he were sharing more than just facts—he was offering them a glimpse into a future they were now part of.
“And although you begin today as Core Disciples, know this: with your talent and the guidance you’ll receive, the road before you leads to the very highest summits. Core Elder, Great Elder… even the title of Sect Master lies within reach, if your ambition and determination are strong enough.”
Senior Brother Han turned slightly, the wind brushing against his robes as it slipped past the protective Qi barrier surrounding the flying boat.
“Take me, for instance,” he added, his eyes narrowing with quiet recollection. “Fifty years ago, I stood where you stand now—a young Core Disciple with promise. And today, I hold the position of Core Elder.”
A brief silence settled as if he lingered on an old memory, before catching himself and giving a faint, self-aware chuckle.
“Forgive me,” he said, shaking his head lightly. “I let myself wander into the past without first explaining something important. From your perspective, my words probably sounded like the ramblings of a madman. After all, you come from beyond the Akashic Records Universe—you wouldn’t yet be familiar with the structure of the Wandering Sword Sect.”
He paused, allowing the weight of that truth to settle.
“Let me correct that. Every year, our sect hosts an official recruitment. Aspiring cultivators from across the Suncrest Region gather, all hoping to earn a place among us. Only the most talented and diligent among them are chosen… and those who succeed begin their journey as Outer Disciples.”
He made a small gesture toward them.
“Of course, there are exceptions—like yourselves. You were directly admitted as Core Disciples without undergoing any of the usual trials. That alone speaks volumes about your potential. But under ordinary circumstances, all new disciples begin as Outer Disciples.”
“These Outer Disciples,” he continued, “are mortals whose cultivation ranges from the 1st to the 20th layer of the Body Forging Realm. They make up the bulk of our sect and are incredibly numerous. Most of them have limited potential and will remain Outer Disciples for the rest of their lives. But now and then, one of them proves exceptional enough to rise further.”
He glanced at them meaningfully before pressing on.
“For those few who do stand out, two paths to promotion exist. First, if an Outer Disciple reaches the 20th layer of the Body Forging Realm, they can take part in an annual trial. If they pass, they are promoted to Inner Disciple. Second, should one manage to break through directly to the 1st layer of the Spiritual Foundation Realm, they are immediately elevated to Inner Disciple—no questions asked, no trial required.”
“As for Inner Disciples, they’re usually at the 1st to 6th layers of the Spiritual Foundation Realm. These are the sect’s main forces, often assigned to operate outside our borders due to their higher level of strength and reliability. Unlike Outer Disciples—who rarely leave the sect grounds due to their vulnerability—Inner Disciples are trusted with important tasks and more dangerous missions.”
He allowed the words to settle before continuing, his tone steady.
“Now, Inner Disciples have several paths forward, depending largely on their potential and how far they can push it. For those with the most promise—those who reach the 6th layer of the Spiritual Foundation Realm and are deemed worthy—there’s an annual trial. Succeed, and they’ll be promoted to the rank of Core Disciple.”
“This is considered the ideal path, the highest aspiration for most Inner Disciples. But in truth, very few manage it. For the majority, their growth plateaus. Their cultivation slows, their potential dims. And when it's clear they’re no longer advancing meaningfully… well, at that point, they’re ‘promoted’—though the word hides the bitter truth—to the rank of Outer Court Elder.”
His gaze flicked briefly toward them again, measuring their reactions, before he resumed.
“There’s also a third path. Some Inner Disciples still retain a spark of promise—not enough to reach Core Disciple status, but too much to be discarded. Those individuals become Inner Court Elders. They haven’t stagnated completely, but they’ve fallen short of the highest expectations.”
Senior Brother Han took a short breath and let his eyes linger on the group for a moment, as if checking their focus. Seeing their attentiveness, he gave a small nod and continued.
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