The Golden Core Sermon’s Solemnity

The ceremony proceeded according to ancient rites.

Sacrificing to Heaven, informing ancestors, proclaiming praises…

While such ceremonies were commonplace for all sects, they were meant to embody both the solemn gravity of ancient rites and the unrestrained elegance of immortal cultivation, allowing for profound discussions and a harmonious atmosphere.

Yet now, with cultivators from all four seas gathered, where there should have been a bustling din and clinking of goblets, an atmosphere of solemnity prevailed, as if they were collectively venerating a legendary deity.

Mo Tingbei understood.

Everything was simply because of the two words: “Golden Core.”

After the Nirvana of the ancient era, heaven and earth were overturned, and the methods of achieving immortality from yesteryear no longer granted eternal life.

This Golden Core, however, represented the pinnacle achievable in the current world, the ultimate power walking amongst the heavens.

Mo Tingbei’s gaze subtly fell upon the Immortal Alliance Envoy in the corner.

Among the envoys present, the leading figure, despite possessing the aura of a Purple Mansion cultivator, seemed exceptionally hollow and unstable, far inferior to Yujizi, whom he had seen yesterday, and even…

Mo Tingbei, initially probing this person’s cultivation, felt a flicker of doubt.

His spiritual sense, like water, quietly enveloped them, and he was immediately startled to realize:

‘How could this person’s cultivation be so unstable? Even a Foundation Establishment cultivator like Lin Xiaoxiao likely possesses more robust and solid spiritual power than him.’

He made a mental note, yet his expression betrayed not the slightest hint of his thoughts.

As time flowed, the ceremony reached the Golden Core sermon segment.

In ancient times, this would be akin to a Daoist Lord or a Buddha expounding scriptures.

Naturally, Mo Tingbei was to deliver the opening address and arrange for all cultivators below the Purple Mansion realm to depart one by one.

This was because the Lord of Nine Nether, whose name could not be spoken directly, had utterly overturned the ancient era.

The immortal path now was not what it had been in antiquity; without the true essence of the Purple Mansion realm, listening to a Dao Lord’s sermon posed a mortal danger.

Mo Tingbei’s azure robe subtly stirred as he slowly stepped forward amidst the profound silence, moving to the center of the cloud platform, where he faced the cultivators below, all holding their breath in rapt attention.

His gaze was calm, and his voice, steady and expansive, carried an undeniable authority, clearly reaching every corner.

“Fellow Daoists.”

“The Grand Dao of the Golden Core is a manifestation of the ultimate truths of heaven and earth, a crystallization of the authority of laws. That Junior Sister Jinyue has attained this realm today is truly a harmonious resonance with the cosmos, a blessing of creation. This is not merely a fortune for our sect, but a clear testament for all of us on the path of cultivation.”

“However, the Grand Dao is profound and not to be lightly touched by mortals. Since the collapse of the ancient epoch and the Nine Nether’s calamitous upheaval of heaven and earth, the Dao traces have fractured, and the laws have changed. The immortal path of today is no longer the smooth road of old.”

“A Golden Core sermon, where words manifest as law, each character imbued with the true power of heaven and earth, is a burden the soul of one without the true essence of the Purple Mansion cannot bear. At best, their Dao foundation will be damaged; at worst…”

“All of you are heroes of your time, possessing vast knowledge. I am sure you have all heard of such secrets. Even if I do not speak of it, fellow Daoists, you will understand.”

He paused slightly, his gaze seemingly inadvertently sweeping over the corner where the Immortal Alliance Envoy stood.

It lingered for but a fleeting moment on the Purple Mansion cultivator with the unstable aura, yet this brief glance caused the envoy’s scalp to tighten abruptly.

“Therefore, as per tradition, during a Golden Core sermon, all those below the Purple Mansion realm must withdraw.”

“I ask that all disciples and fellow Daoists from various sects who are below the Purple Mansion realm temporarily retire to the side hall to rest. Our sect has prepared fine tea, and there are also scripture pavilions and grotto-heavens available for observation and contemplation, so your time will not be wasted.”

Having spoken, he gave his sleeve a subtle flick.

Without a sound, Dao patterns around the cloud platform illuminated with a soft, clear light, forming an invisible barrier that subtly separated the central main area from the outer viewing section.

A gentle yet irresistible force permeated the air, guiding the cultivators whose cultivation had not reached the Purple Mansion realm to rise in an orderly fashion.

A host of Three-Unity Sword Sect Elders of Affairs and disciples stepped forward, silently and methodically directing the crowd to withdraw to the side hall.

No one questioned, no one clamored.

Occasionally, one or two hot-headed youths lingered, but they were warned by their elders and dutifully followed the crowd.

The Immortal Alliance’s Purple Mansion Envoy, mingling within the crowd, felt the gentle force that swept over him, precisely discerning his cultivation.

As he perceived this force, his face blanched even further.

This power was pure and immense, controlled with incredible precision, far beyond his comprehension, making his unstable Purple Mansion cultivation seem utterly ridiculous.

What terrified him even more was the magnificent and imposing aura accompanying that power, a sword intent embodying the ambition to pacify the world.

As if sensing something, it seemed to linger around him for an extended moment.

He kept his head bowed low, daring not to let any trace of terror show in his eyes.

When the Immortal Alliance dispatched him, he had already received a secret command: During the ceremony, he must maintain a low profile, under no circumstances attracting the slightest notice from the Sword Venerable. Concurrently, he was to exert every effort to investigate the true nature of the Golden Core and ascertain the truth behind the previous incident where an “Immortal Alliance Envoy” offended the forbidden grounds of the Three-Unity Sword Sect.

Only at this moment, personally experiencing that abyssal, hellish pressure, did he suddenly comprehend why, for this mission, apart from him—a Purple Mansion cultivator freshly boosted by secret arts—all the seasoned and prudent elders of the Alliance had found every excuse to decline.

They had likely already known part of the truth.

In the past, what was called a Golden Core Grand Ceremony, whether genuine or not, had always been beneficial for the Immortal Alliance Envoy attending the banquet. A true Golden Core meant the opportunity to listen to a Dao Lord’s sermon, potentially saving a decade of arduous cultivation. A false Golden Core merely required displaying one’s cultivation, allowing them to make any demands of the minor sects ignorant of the Golden Core’s true nature.

This was a rare and coveted opportunity, even in the eyes of Purple Mansion cultivators.

But seeing the current display…

He feared this was not only no opportunity but rather a bottomless pit, potentially even involving some ancient grievances.

The envoy inwardly lamented his misfortune, yet his movements grew even more deferential, leaving no room for fault.

Mo Tingbei withdrew his gaze.

‘This fellow, with unstable foundations and obscured true essence, is most likely a half-baked cultivator freshly boosted by some Immortal Alliance secret art. Pushed out to take the fall, perhaps…’

‘If that’s the case, the matters to be discussed with the Immortal Alliance shortly should prove considerably simpler.’

Once the clearing below was complete, the vast cloud platform appeared much emptier, with only the various Purple Mansion cultivators, their auras profound and steady, remaining.

Their numbers had sharply decreased, yet the atmosphere grew even more solemn and concentrated.

The clear light barrier around the cloud platform suddenly intensified, transforming into a luminous curtain that stretched from the heavens above to the earth’s veins below. Countless ancient Dao patterns, like dragons and serpents coiling, wove across its surface, forming a vast net that encompassed the four cardinal points visible to the eye.

Mo Tingbei had no desire for this auspicious Golden Core Grand Ceremony to devolve into a bloodbath that would shake the world.

Moreover, none of the Three-Unity disciples could withstand the dangers of a Golden Core sermon.

Therefore, he immediately erected this clear light barrier, which had been acquired from an ancient grotto-heaven and subsequently refined with contemporary methods.

Outside the luminous curtain, although the disciples could perceive the scene within, it was like viewing flowers through a fog; not a shred of Dao Rhythm could be felt. Naturally, this ensured their souls would not be shattered by its resonance.

Mo Tingbei stood within the clear light boundary, turned, and subtly nodded towards the empty, suspended meditation cushion and the figure in plain white seated upon it.

“My thanks, Junior Sister.”

All eyes in the hall converged, yet only Mo Tingbei was privileged to behold her face.

Jiang Jinyue’s eyes, imbued with an icy blue Dao essence, swirled faintly like flowing starlight, and her crimson lips parted slightly:

“Good.”

With that single word, the laws of heaven and earth hummed in resonance.

In the next instant, the sound of the Dao resonated from the void.

That sound was beyond description. It was unlike any known melody, yet it seemed to contain the very first rhythm of creation, expressing the ultimate truth of all life’s growth.

Om—

The laws resonated with it.

Visibly, the void around the cloud platform began to twist and fold, shimmering with a glazed, ethereal radiance.

Streaks of exquisitely complex, ever-shifting golden Dao patterns spontaneously emerged from the void around Jiang Jinyue, soaring like dragons, dancing like phoenixes, like a mystic tortoise bearing a diagram, or a Qilin carrying a scroll, interweaving to manifest the boundless mysteries of the Great Dao.