Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Splendor of the Array Sect

The two traveled for ten consecutive days, through wind and rain, arriving at their destination in a state of utter exhaustion and disarray.

As they ventured deeper into the territory of the Array Sect, the landscape grew increasingly lush, and the spiritual energy intensified. Along the way, Qinglan paused to assess their surroundings; although the area was desolate, the concentration of spiritual energy already rivaled that of Mingshan in the Eastern Domain. While the mortal realm was more suitable for habitation, its spiritual energy was far thinner. The Eastern Domain was permeated with violent fire energy and verdant wood energy, yet the Southern Heaven region revealed a vastly different world. Here, the elements of water and wood were more potent, making it an ideal environment for cultivators of those two attributes.

Crossing a winding, low-lying hill, the scene that greeted them left them breathless. It was a fairyland on earth: a vast, boundless lake, smooth as a giant glazed mirror, reflected a kaleidoscope of colors, exquisite and as vivid as a painting. Three towering peaks and countless scattered islands floated upon the water, blanketed in lush, vibrant vegetation. Birds soared between the isles, their movements fluid and elegant, as if they were one with the water. As they beat their wings, ripples spread across the surface, and spiritual energy flowed freely through the air, accompanied by a light, ethereal mist that hovered over the lake, blurring the line between reality and illusion.

Behind the lake, ranges of undulating mountains rose, not particularly tall, yet possessing a rugged power. Their summits were shrouded in dense spiritual energy, a hazy, luminous veil that exuded an invisible pressure. Nestled among the mountains, pavilions rose in a well-ordered arrangement. Each structure was grand, intricate, and complex, appearing as if they had grown out of the mountainside itself. Though separated by miles, they seemed connected by some subtle, underlying resonance.

Qinglan and Yuedong walked along the energy-rich lakeshore, their reflections dancing in the water. Qinglan felt a surge of excitement, while Yuedong gazed at the distant peaks with a mixture of reverence and anticipation.

"Well, I'll be..." Qinglan exclaimed in wonder.

Beyond the breathtaking scenery, they found a dense crowd of people, clearly there to participate in the trials. Despite the size of the throng, the atmosphere was orderly, with those waiting in line maintaining a respectful silence. The duo moved to the back of the line, calmed their racing hearts, and waited quietly for the trials to begin.

Not long after, a streak of golden light pierced the sky. The lake began to churn as spiritual energy surged, and within moments, a blue-purple mist blanketed the entire surface. Then, a massive jade lotus slowly rose from the depths, each petal shimmering with a cold, gentle radiance and wreathed in mist.

Vortices materialized in the void near the shore, descending onto the lotus petals to serve as gateways. Before the pair could inspect them closely, a grand, solemn, and ancient voice resonated from the heavens: "Everyone, the entrance trial for the Southern Heaven Array Sect is about to begin. For this recruitment, we only accept young cultivators under the bone age of thirty who have awakened their spiritual power. Those who meet the requirements, please enter."

The moment the words fell, the previously quiet crowd erupted. The cultivators around them grew energized, their eyes gleaming with excitement. Many could not help but cry out, "It’s finally here! We have waited so long for this opportunity!"

"The trial of the Southern Heaven Array Sect! It’s finally our turn!"

Some were already impatient, their eyes locked on the entrances, their legs tensed, ready to bolt inside. Qinglan and Yuedong could not help but be infected by the atmosphere, their blood boiling; Yuedong, in particular, seemed to have sparks in his eyes. Hundreds of figures suddenly rushed into the vortexes and vanished.

While they waited at the end of the line in the northeast corner, a scholar dressed in deep ink-colored robes walked toward the vortex with a steady, elegant, and composed gait.

Qinglan was curious. "Look at his attire. He doesn't look like a cultivator; he looks like a man of letters."

"He must be a practitioner of the Literary Path," Yuedong replied.

The Seven Paths of the world each held its own prestige: the Array Path, Soul Arts, Literary Arts, Curse Arts, Artifact Path, Martial Path, and Lightning Law. The Array Path was unpredictable, Soul Arts profound and mysterious, the Literary Path elegant and refined, Curse Arts treacherous and unfathomable, the Artifact Path sharp and unyielding, the Martial Path fierce and brave, and the Lightning Law lofty and unreachable.

Practitioners of the Literary Path often "convey the Way through writing," wielding ink like wind and clouds, and mastering the art of the "Spoken Word." While they appeared elegant and dignified, they were, in truth, reckless madmen on the battlefield.

"He must be of the same path as Wen Shuo. I wonder if he’s here for the trial."

Just as the scholar reached to step into the vortex, a sudden, powerful gust of air, like a violent gale, swept him away. His long sleeves and robes fluttered in the wind, making him look like a ragged, wind-blown branch, utterly disheveled.

He stood up, looking furious, dusted off his clothes, and smoothed his disarrayed hair bun. Panting, he scolded, "What is the meaning of this, Array Sect? To toss me out like this! Such rudeness—where is the decorum?"

Before he could finish, the ancient, cold voice sounded again, tinged with impatience: "You are over seventy years of age. Why are you here to join the fray?"

The man's expression turned even uglier, his eyes widening. "I came to pay a visit with the utmost respect! You dare to cast me out? This is an insult to the successors of Ink Mountain! This is truly a disgrace to my scholarly status!"

Then, a younger, sharper voice echoed from above: "Hmph. The scholars of the past dominated the battlefield, where their tongues were their deadliest weapons. You wear robes so restrictive you can barely move, let alone act freely. Do you even deserve to call yourself a successor of Ink Mountain? I shall show you what a true disgrace to scholarship looks like!"

The man turned bright red with shame. Just as he turned to leave, a monstrous wave rose from the lake, coiling like a whip and lashing out at him.

"Ah!"

With a scream, the man vanished, leaving only a blur as he was sent flying at least ten miles away.

The surrounding cultivators couldn't help but stifle their laughter; a few nearly burst out loud.

The majestic, cold voice sounded once more: "Hmph. Thirty means thirty. Not a year, not a day more. If anyone else dares to engage in deception, the treatment will be far worse!"

As these words faded, the crowd fell silent for a brief moment before erupting into activity again. Hundreds of figures began to change. A beautiful woman in red robes flicked her hand, and her mask fell away, revealing a face etched with the passage of time, with a streak of white hair clinging stubbornly to her ear like an accidental ink stain. As she pressed down on her slipping wig, she cleared her throat in embarrassment. "Ahem, don't let my age fool you. I just wanted to see if I could try out a youthful body again... Who knew... how time flies. I’ve strayed into the Array Sect by mistake."

Next, a handsome young cultivator untied his cloak, revealing a face covered in stubble and heavy eye bags. Patting his belly, he laughed awkwardly, "Haha, don't mind me, I... I’m just a 'spirited' middle-aged man..."

By now, nearly thirty percent of the crowd began to shed their disguises. These "young people" of various shapes and sizes revealed their true forms. Some had weathered faces, some were frail and trembling, and others were simply unkempt. The entire scene suddenly resembled a senior citizens' gathering.

Watching the line suddenly grow sparse, Qinglan stood there, dumbstruck.