The Martial Practice Commences

Ji Xue and Liu Ruyan ceased their argument and their movements almost in unison, their eyes widening in astonishment as they gazed towards the doorway. Their gazes then darted quickly to the disciple tokens fastened at their waists, where the cool jade pulsed with a rapid, rhythmic luminescence, silently affirming the veracity of the news emanating from beyond the door.

“The martial practice… is it truly about to commence?!” Liu Ruyan exclaimed, her eyes wide with disbelief. Though a lingering dampness still clung to them, it was now entirely overshadowed by profound astonishment; she had been utterly unaware of the hour.

Ji Xue’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, her emotions now thoroughly reined in, presenting an outward semblance of calm. Yet, the fingers wrapped around the glazed goblet tightened, a subtle, involuntary clench betraying her true state.

After all, the impending martial practice held paramount importance not just for Lin Mo, but for her as well.

‘Just how high would her cultivation method compatibility be this time?’

What weighed even more heavily on Ji Xue’s heart was the nascent life quietly stirring within her. This profound, weighty concern compelled her to question: ‘With my current delicate state, can I truly navigate the fierce clashes of the martial practice without peril?’

As a myriad of worries surged within her, her gaze drifted uncontrollably towards Lin Mo, imbued with an ineffable fragility.

Lin Mo instantly deciphered the deep-seated worry in her gaze. He straightened imperceptibly, and seizing the fleeting moment when Liu Ruyan’s attention was diverted, he quietly covered Ji Xue’s hand with his own.

Enveloped by the warmth of his palm, his gaze remained as serene as a deep, still pool, yet it held an unshakeable, rock-solid trust, silently imparting his answer.

The warmth emanating from his palm and the palpable strength in his gaze felt almost corporeal, instantly smoothing the turbulent ripples within Ji Xue’s heart.

The faint mist of worry that had clouded her eyes silently dispersed, replaced by a quiet, resolute glow, born of absolute trust.

Lin Mo, for his part, was certainly not as outwardly serene as he seemed.

An uncontrollable heat instantly surged through his entire being, a potent concoction of burgeoning battle intent, desperate resolve, and a profound, buried mix of tension and yearning.

His gaze instantly sharpened to a blade-like intensity, sweeping away all traces of his previous weakness and helplessness, and replacing them with a will forged as hard as iron.

He slowly descended from the bed, the thunderous grind of fate’s gears already reverberating in his ears; the pivotal moment that would irrevocably shape his destiny had finally arrived.

This time, he possessed the power to alter his own destiny, to forge a new future.

“Let’s go.”

Ji Xue and Liu Ruyan, too, sensed the formidable aura that abruptly surged from him, its majesty and gravity causing them to involuntarily rein in all their emotions.

Their minds, almost in perfect synchronicity, echoed with a silent, resolute ‘Yes!’

With Ji Xue and Liu Ruyan accompanying him on either side, Lin Mo set off towards the martial practice arena.

The expansive square, however, was not the designated venue for the martial practice; one first had to traverse the Main Hall’s Reverberating Gate to reach the true competition grounds.

The colossal, once-empty martial arena now teemed with a multitude of disciples, their robes billowing like clouds.

Every disciple of the Hall of Clarity had gathered in this very place.

The vast majority had, by unspoken accord, donned their unified training attire.

The palette consisted primarily of the Xuan Nv Sect’s iconic green and white, forming a uniform, neatly arrayed spectacle, much like chess pieces poised on a board.

Holding their breaths, their backs ramrod straight, their gazes remained intently focused on the central expanse of the arena.

Within a space holding thousands, not a whisper of commotion could be heard; only the mournful sigh of the mountain wind as it swept past the towering jade pillars lining the arena’s edge, enhancing the profound stillness. It was as if this were an absolute domain, hushed before the imminent fury of a storm.

The martial arena itself was a raised platform, its core dominated by a martial stage several meters in circumference, meticulously fashioned from a singular, colossal dark green stone and intricately inscribed with ancient runes.

Concentric tiers of spectator stands encircled it, though no high-ranking figures had yet taken their places. Nevertheless, an intangible, austere solemnity already permeated the atmosphere.

Massive incense burners stood sentinel at the four corners of the square, from which delicate tendrils of pale purple smoke spiraled upwards. This was no ordinary incense, but a blend meticulously crafted from spirit herbs renowned for their calming properties. Its uniquely crisp and refreshing aroma, carried by the gentle breeze, slowly and persistently infused every breath of air, washing away restlessness and settling the heart.

An invisible pressure, both heavy and pristine, permeated the very air.

This profound quietude was far from a deathly stillness; rather, it felt like the pervasive tension of a bowstring drawn taut, brimming with latent power. Though a fierce fire burned in every eye, it was meticulously held in check by stringent discipline and an innate reverence for true strength.

As if even the drifting clouds above sensed this solemnity, their movement slowed to an unusual crawl, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow upon the taut faces below, etching clear and resolute contours.

Along the edges of the martial arena, the verdant jade sculptures, emblematic of the Xuan Nv Sect’s past sages and their grand achievements, shimmered brilliantly in the morning light, as if silently scrutinizing the resolve of the new generation of disciples.

Yet, one particular sculpture, no matter how intently Lin Mo gazed upon it, still evoked a flicker of disorientation, that absurd notion relentlessly resurfacing in his mind.

Even on this most crucial of days.

Nevertheless, Lin Mo’s heart was swiftly seized by the solemnity of the atmosphere.

He subtly raised his head, sensing the burgeoning excitement in the air, a spark awaiting ignition, and began to scan for his targets. Qiu Yue had yet to appear, but Lu Ping’an stood amidst the distant crowd, her gaze, cold and calculating as a viper’s, fixed intently upon him. When their eyes met, the malicious glint in hers was almost brazenly unconcealed.

Li Xin, positioned behind Lu Ping’an, met his gaze with far greater resolve.

Despite the fact that Lin Mo had been, for a time, almost constantly sequestered by Ji Xue and Liu Ruyan, he had still managed to find occasional opportunities to meet with Li Xin.

Through these meetings, he had gleaned insights into Qiu Yue’s machinations and the advantages Lu Ping’an had acquired.

Now, he and Li Xin had meticulously devised a plan to sever Lu Ping’an’s ties with Qiu Yue; all that remained was to await the opportune moment.

After a silent, distant exchange of glances, both subtly averted their gazes.

‘This time, everything hinged on this single, decisive moment!’

Just then, high above the colossal central martial stage, space itself seemed to gracefully cleave open, as if rent by an unseen hand.

A lone figure slowly emerged from the rift, suspending themselves several meters above the ground.

In that very instant, tens of thousands of gazes across the entire martial arena converged, drawn with magnetic force to the newcomer!

The newcomer was clad in a moon-white robe, exquisitely simple yet imbued with an undeniable grandeur. Devoid of intricate embellishments, it featured only a few dark green cloud patterns, subtly embroidered on the cuffs and collar, shimmering with a faint, ethereal starlight.

Their long, dark hair was simply gathered with a single white jade hairpin, the remaining strands cascading casually behind them. This arrangement, far from appearing austere, lent their face a distinct sense of approachability, devoid of the aloof chill typically associated with those in high positions, yet undeniably retaining an aura of profound majesty.

This figure was none other than the spiritual cornerstone of the Xuan Nv Sect: Pavilion Master Xian Chengyue of the Scripture Pavilion.

Her mere presence, even without the conscious release of any oppressive aura, seemed to cause the very essence of the entire space to coalesce and still.

“Disciples of the Hall of Clarity.” Xian Chengyue’s voice, though not loud, resonated like the clear chime of striking jade, piercing through the spatial expanse with perfect clarity. It settled firmly into every ear, imbued with a peculiar soothing and penetrating power that instantly quelled even the most subtle stirrings.

Among the thousands present, not a single sound stirred; the silence was so profound that a dropped needle would have echoed.

Xian Chengyue’s gaze slowly traversed the myriad young faces below, each taut with nerves and alight with fervent aspiration.

Her gaze was not overtly sharp, yet it held a profound, soul-piercing depth, as though she could perceive the spiritual energy coursing through each disciple’s veins, the pulsating flame of their battle intent, and the lingering bewilderment deep within their hearts.

“The path of cultivation,” she began slowly, her voice serene and profound, imbued with the power of ages. Her words, like meticulously strung pearls, resonated deeply within each person’s heart. “It is not a singular route. It commences with the minutest spark, nurtured by diligent effort and a resilient physique, forging an indomitable spirit through countless battles, and ultimately culminating in a return to the Grand Dao.”

Her speech flowed gently, yet it harbored immense power, each word meticulously embedded. Devoid of hateful or impassioned rhetoric, her words nonetheless ignited a profound fire within the heart of every disciple.

“Today’s martial practice is not for personal ambition, nor is it merely a test of endurance. Its paramount significance lies in the single word: ‘practice’!” Xian Chengyue’s voice suddenly ascended several octaves, its clear, resonant tones echoing across the entire arena. “Practice your prowess in actual combat: how to swiftly circulate spiritual energy in the nick of time, how to decisively choose between advance and retreat in a flash of lightning; practice your adaptability: how to discern opportunities and strike at weaknesses when confronted with unfamiliar techniques and attacks; and practice the resilience of your will: whether, when your physical strength is utterly depleted, your spiritual energy exhausted, and pain and suffering cling to you, your Dao heart remains clear, and your sword intent still razor-sharp!”

Her words struck like heavy hammers, resounding deep within the souls of all present. The pervasive nervousness, the undercurrents of utilitarianism, and the insidious calculations secretly festering in their minds all seemed to shrink into insignificance before her pronouncements.

“Secondly, it lies in the word: ‘prove’!” Xian Chengyue’s voice softened slightly, yet carried a profounder expectation. “This very stage serves as a bright mirror! It will test the culmination of your months, even years, of arduous cultivation: whether your cultivation method is pure, your foundation firmly rooted, and if your bottlenecks hold the promise of being shattered. Victory is not cause for undue elation, nor defeat for excessive despair! Triumph and failure are but whetstones. In victory, discern your deficiencies; in defeat, unravel the underlying reasons! This, and this alone, is the true essence of martial practice!”

“Therefore, this battle is neither about grudges nor about stratagems. It concerns your very own Dao path!” Xian Chengyue’s voice abruptly deepened, becoming incomparably solemn and majestic, as if imbued with the grand resonance of heaven and earth. “Cast aside all distracting thoughts, relinquish all resentment! With cultivation as your blade, and your heart as your mirror, pour forth your entire strength to validate your Dao heart! Every drop of sweat, every collision upon this martial stage, is your resounding inquiry into the path of immortality!

“May you not squander your youth, nor betray yourselves! Remember these words today, and as cultivators, fight!”

Xian Chengyue’s final word, “fight,” was not uttered with increased volume, yet it seemed to carry a boundless, ancient will, resonating like a colossal bell, thundering across the entire martial arena and triggering an invisible tide of spiritual energy!

A solemn yet fervent battle intent, like a lit spark, erupted explosively within the chests of thousands of disciples!