Chapter 140 Spring Break (2)

Words : 1782 Updated : Sep 17th, 2025

In a sect as venerable as Mount Hua, hierarchy was everything. The chain of command didn't just determine who gave orders and who followed—it was a philosophy in itself, a discipline mirrored in every aspect of their training. At the apex stood the Elders, Ascendant-rankers whose wisdom was said to shape the very essence of the sect. Above them were the Masters, Immortal-rankers whose strength rivaled the myths themselves. Below them came the disciples, divided into generations: first-class, second-class, and third-class. Age determined where you stood, but your potential decided how far you could rise within your generation. Core disciples were taken under the wing of Masters, inner disciples by Elders, and the rest—outer disciples—were left to claw their way up through sheer determination. As a fifteen-year-old, if I were to join Mount Hua, I'd be classified as a second-class disciple. But more importantly, if I could convince Master Li, Seraphina's uncle and the second-strongest person in the entire sect, to train me, I'd be placed among the core disciples—a position reserved for those deemed extraordinary. "Uncle can be... particular," Seraphina said, scratching her cheek. "He might train you because I asked him, but taking you as his disciple? That's no guarantee." I grinned. "I don't think I'll be rejected." She sighed. "Confident as always." We made our way to Master Li's residence, a modest yet elegant hall nestled against the cliffs of Mount Hua. Cherry blossoms framed the path leading to his door, their petals carpeting the stone steps like a welcoming rug. Seraphina knocked firmly, the sound echoing faintly in the tranquil air. The door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing Master Li. He had the same silver hair as Seraphina, though his eyes were a deep, contemplative black. There was a faint resemblance between them, though where Seraphina radiated an icy poise, Master Li carried a disarming warmth that was almost paternal. "It's been a while, kiddo," he said, ruffling Seraphina's hair as though she were ten years old. She pouted but didn't move to stop him, her usual composure dissolving in the presence of her uncle. "It's good to see you, Uncle!" she said, her voice lighter than I'd ever heard it. Master Li's gaze turned to me, his lips curling into an amused smirk. "And who's this? Your future husband?" "Uncle!" Seraphina's face turned crimson as she delivered a sharp kick to his shin. "He's my friend from the Academy. He wants to improve his swordsmanship." Li chuckled, rubbing his shin with mock exaggeration. "Alright, alright. Don't be so prickly. Sera, I'll train him because you asked, but making him my disciple... that's another matter entirely." "Uncle, please," Seraphina said, her voice insistent. "Use the stone." At that, my brow furrowed. "The stone?" Li sighed, looking at her like she'd just suggested borrowing the moon. "I don't have the authority for that, and you know it." Seraphina crossed her arms. "I am the princess. I'm giving you the authority." He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly reluctant. "Sera, if your father finds out—" "Leave him to me," she said with a wave of her hand. "Use the stone." Li grumbled under his breath, but finally relented. "Fine, fine. Don't come crying to me when the Patriarch scolds you." I followed them to the sect's treasury, a massive structure carved into the mountainside. The stone walls glimmered faintly, inscribed with protective runes so intricate they seemed to hum with latent energy. Inside, rows upon rows of artifacts rested on pedestals, each one pulsing with its own unique aura. It was a treasure trove of Mount Hua's most prized possessions, and I couldn't help but feel like I was stepping into a sacred space. Seraphina led us to a pedestal near the back, where a small, unassuming orb rested. It was smooth and featureless, no larger than a fist, but the moment Seraphina touched it, the room seemed to grow heavier. The air around it shimmered faintly, and I felt a strange pull, like it was measuring me before I'd even come close. "This is the Sword Talent Appraisal Stone," Seraphina explained, lifting it carefully. "It's used to measure potential in swordsmanship. The higher the grade, the purer the light it emits." "What kind of grades are we talking about?" I asked, curiosity piqued. "Most disciples emit a dim yellow light," Seraphina said. "Exceptional ones might shine orange or red. Violet... well, I've only heard of one person who achieved that." "Who?" I asked. She hesistated. "My brother." I swallowed hard but nodded. "Alright. Let's do this." We stepped outside to an open courtyard, the wind carrying the faint scent of blossoms. Seraphina handed me the stone, her gaze sharp with anticipation. "Focus your intent on it," she instructed. "It will respond to your affinity for swordsmanship." I held the stone in my hands, its smooth surface cool against my palms. Closing my eyes, I focused, letting my mind clear. I thought of every battle, every duel, every painstaking hour spent refining my technique. I thought of the way the blade felt in my hands, the way it became an extension of myself. The stone began to hum softly, a faint vibration that grew stronger with each passing second. When I opened my eyes, I saw it. A light. Not yellow, not orange, not red. A pure, radiant violet that bathed the entire courtyard in its glow. Li's eyes widened, his usually relaxed demeanor replaced by a rare seriousness. "Violet," he murmured. "Pure violet." Seraphina's lips parted, her usual calm cracking ever so slightly. "That's..." Without another word, Li turned to me. "Show me your skills," he said, his tone brisk. "Let's see if the stone tells the truth." I barely had time to react before he tossed me a wooden practice sword. Taking one for himself, he moved to the center of the courtyard, his stance loose but unmistakably lethal. "Come," he said, the warmth in his voice replaced by the sharp edge of a master. I stepped forward, gripping the practice sword tightly. The wooden sword in my hand felt light yet balanced, and I couldn't help but take a steadying breath as I faced Master Li. His stance was deceptively relaxed, the kind of posture that betrayed no openings yet promised swift retaliation. The courtyard was silent, save for the faint rustle of the wind through the cherry blossoms. "Begin," Master Li said, his tone measured, almost lazy. I surged forward, the opening movements of Tempest Dance already in motion. The first strike was fluid, a low diagonal aimed to test his reflexes. He parried with an almost bored flick of his wrist, his wooden blade ringing out as it met mine. I flowed into the second movement, a sweeping arc meant to feint an opening for the third. His sword moved like water, effortlessly redirecting my blade. But Tempest Dance wasn't about single strikes; it was about compounding momentum. Each movement built upon the last, every successful transition doubling the speed and power of the next. By the fourth movement, the air around us seemed to hum with energy. My blade blurred as I pushed further, each strike faster, heavier, and more precise than the one before. Master Li's eyes narrowed, his relaxed demeanor shifting as he started to take me more seriously. His parries became sharper, his counters faster, but I was already in the rhythm, my body moving as though possessed by the technique itself. "Grade 5 art," he muttered under his breath, deflecting another strike that whistled perilously close to his shoulder. "How long have you been learning this?" "I got the art from Mythos Academy six months ago," I said, not breaking the flow of my movements. The words seemed to catch him off guard, his footwork stuttering for the briefest of moments. "Six months?" he repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Impossible." But I didn't stop. The seventh movement came down like a thunderclap, my blade cutting through the air with enough force to send a gust of wind rippling through the courtyard. Master Li parried, but the impact made him slide back a step—a testament to the technique's growing power. Searᴄh the nôvel_Fire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. By the ninth movement, my body felt like it was on fire, the strain of maintaining the compounding momentum beginning to take its toll. My muscles screamed, but I pressed on, the final crescendo of Tempest Dance within reach. Master Li met me blow for blow, his own skills unmatched, but I could see it—the faint flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes. And then I stepped back, my chest heaving. The sequence was done. But I wasn't finished. "Good," Master Li said, his tone neutral, though I could hear the undercurrent of respect. "You have a strong foundation, but—" He didn't get to finish. I gathered my mana, the air around me crackling as I activated Lucent Harmony. The familiar pulse of light mana coursed through me, merging with the refined synchronization of my movements. The world seemed to slow as I channeled a five-circle spell into my next strike. "God Flash," I whispered. I vanished, my body a streak of radiant light as I closed the distance in a blink. My blade, imbued with the sheer brilliance of light mana, crashed against Master Li's sword with a deafening boom. The force of the impact sent a shockwave rippling outward, scattering cherry blossoms and leaving a faint scorch mark on the ground where I'd stood. Master Li stood frozen, his sword raised in a block, his dark eyes wide with shock. For the first time since I'd met him, he seemed at a loss for words. I stepped back, lowering my sword as the glow of Lucent Harmony faded. My breath came in ragged gasps, sweat dripping down my brow, but I met his gaze steadily. Master Li finally lowered his own blade, his expression a mixture of incredulity and admiration. "A five-circle spell, seamlessly integrated into your swordsmanship," he said, his voice quieter now. "At your age, at your rank... That level of control, that creativity—it's absurd." He exhaled, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Arthur, there's no doubt about it. The stone was correct. Your talent isn't just exceptional—it's Grade 6. You're a monster in the making."

Chapter 140 Spring Break (2)

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