Chapter 111

Chapter 111: Seeking the Sword, Asking the Way

What did “Full-Star” mean?

It meant absorbing the starforce of an entire planet.

Many cultivators couldn’t endure it. At the critical moment, their bodies would burst apart. Whole-Bone Pill existed for that instant—hardening the bones and helping the body withstand the impact of starforce, raising the chance of stepping into the Full-Star Realm. It was an outrageously expensive pill.

One pill was worth a two-tribulation Chen Artifact.

And Wang Jie had fifty of them.

To outsiders, things like this were priceless. In the hands of certain people, they were no better than trash.

Master Luan didn’t care about giving him so many Whole-Bone Pills.

Wang Jie could successfully star-refine twenty-nine. The remaining twenty-one, he kept.

Next, he needed to go to the Outer Court.

Right now, the most important thing was completing the materials for the Heaven-Reversal Path. One of those materials required him to become famous for swordsmanship.

If he wanted to make a name quickly, the Outer Court was the simplest place to do it. There were people everywhere.

And in the Outer Court, the strongest lockforce cultivator was Wu Mian—and Wu Mian wasn’t his match.

The Outer Court sat at the edge of the Frost Splendor Domain, forming a ring like a guard wall. It was the gatekeeper of the domain.

It also possessed refining grounds unique to the Outer Court, and the planets with the largest reserves of Slaughterstone.

Wang Jie traveled to a planet called Bing Qiao Star.

It was considered the core of the Outer Court, the place where the elder responsible for the Outer Court resided.

The elder’s surname was Zhong. He wasn’t a lockforce cultivator—he was a true elder of the Frost Splendor Sect, with status comparable to the four great domain lords.

Wang Jie paid a formal visit.

Elder Zhong’s attitude was lukewarm at best. After a handful of perfunctory words, he dismissed Wang Jie.

Wang Jie didn’t mind. With Master Xu targeting him, it was hard for him to move around the Frost Splendor Sect anyway.

A greeting was enough.

Next came the arena.

On the busiest street of Bing Qiao Star, a massive platform had been erected straight across the road, blocking the thoroughfare and drawing crowds like wildfire.

In the Outer Court, land was worth more than gold. Never mind the cost of building such a stage—most people didn’t even have the right. Even Inner Sect disciples couldn’t behave recklessly here.

It was far too brazen.

Yet the arena stood there all the same.

Two large banners hung on either side:

Seeking the sword, asking the Way—win and lose, convinced and content.

At the center of the stage sat one hundred Starsea Stone.

Below the pile, a screen displayed Wang Jie’s face.

He spoke clearly, his voice carrying across the packed street.

“I am Wang Jie. I am skilled with the sword, and I love the sword. Today I seek guidance from the experts of the sect. We fight only with sword moves.”

“If you win, you take these Starsea Stone. If you lose, there is no cost at all.”

“I respectfully invite all fellow brothers to instruct me.”

People poured in nonstop—mostly Outer Court and Outer Sect disciples. Inner Sect disciples rarely bothered with Outer Court spectacles.

From street level alone, close to a million people crammed into the avenue.

Above them, ships drifted by at a leisurely pace. Beast carriages thundered through the sky. Floating pavilions and towers hung in the air like islands, each filled with onlookers.

“Who is this guy? So arrogant—challenging the sect’s sword experts?”

“A clown. He has a bit of talent and thinks he’s something special. If he were truly capable, he’d have gone to the Inner Sect already.”

“You’re wrong,” someone else cut in. “He must be a lockforce cultivator. Hard to judge his sword skill or his determination, but he likely can’t enter the Inner Sect.”

“He can’t enter the Inner Sect and he still dares to set up an arena here?”

A snort. “Senior Brother, you’re underestimating this street.”

Some mocked him, but others—especially women—watched him with shining eyes. Anyone who could set up a stage here had paid a staggering price.

And the challenge itself was a bargain. Lose, and there was no penalty. Win, and you walked away with Starsea Stone.

Too tempting.

Wang Jie left the stage empty for an entire day, letting the crowd swell until the street was packed to bursting. Only then did he finally appear.

Standing under so many eyes carried pressure, even for him.

Not because he feared them—none of them were his match—but because the numbers were absurd.

Ten thousand? A hundred thousand? A million?

If that many Ten Seals cultivators were dropped onto Blue Star, they could erase every living thing with ease.

And the Outer Court had fifty million disciples.

Wang Jie drew a steady breath and raised his voice. “We begin. Anyone who believes they can compete with me in swordsmanship may step onto the stage.”

He hadn’t even finished speaking before bodies launched upward.

Wang Jie drew his sword and swept it out.

Rainbow-Drinking Sword Form.

One sword, swift as a flash from the west. His blade skimmed across the challengers’ clothing without cutting flesh, forcing them all back in the same instant.

Then he held his sword flat.

A neat row of buttons sat lined up on the blade—every one of them plucked from their robes.

For a heartbeat, the crowd went dead silent.

Then the street erupted in disbelief.

So fast.

Far away, on the balcony of a floating pavilion, a man leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “He’s got some skill. No wonder he dares challenge swordsmanship.”

The woman beside him smiled. “That strike would be considered fast even in the Inner Sect. Ten Seals, yet he can draw a sword like that… the Outer Court produces talent.”

“Keep watching,” the man murmured. “If he’s worth it, we can bring him to Little Sword Mountain—give Senior Brother Mu something entertaining.”

“Hopefully,” she said, amused.

The first wave of challengers scrambled off the stage, pale-faced and tight-lipped. No one dared complain.

The crowd tried to replay the sword move in their minds, searching for a weakness.

They couldn’t even remember it.

It had been too fast.

A lone figure jumped onto the stage—a man holding a flexible sword. He flicked it from his waist with a sharp ringing sound and pointed it at Wang Jie.

“Outer Court disciple Ren Jun. Please instruct me.”

Wang Jie studied him. Anyone still stepping up now was either foolish or confident. “Please.”

Ren Jun snapped his wrist. The soft blade flashed with dazzling light, like the sun bursting out from behind clouds.

“It’s Sun-Eye Sword!” someone shouted from below. “Ren Jun created that move himself—he’s beaten countless Outer Court experts with it!”

The blade whipped toward Wang Jie’s side, sharp and deceptive.

Wang Jie shifted without even looking.

Ren Jun’s sword pierced empty air. He twisted in surprise—

And Wang Jie’s sword hilt slammed down on his head.

Ren Jun’s eyes rolled, his knees buckling.

Wang Jie didn’t bother hiding his exasperation. “Tricks won’t help you. Bring something real.”

Ren Jun clutched his skull, the world spinning. “My apologies. I was reckless.”

He stumbled off the stage and fled, swaying like a drunk.

More challengers came.

More left clutching their heads.

It got so consistent that eventually, people stopped watching Wang Jie’s blade and started watching the hilt instead.

“Does he really have to beat people with the hilt every time?” someone complained. “That’s not the conduct of a gentleman.”

In the floating pavilion, the man clicked his tongue. The woman beside him laughed softly.

“Are you going to step in, Senior Brother?” she teased.

He shook his head. “If I step in, it’s bullying.

“Senior Brother Mu enjoys watching all kinds of swordsmanship, strong or weak. I’m not at his level, and I won’t ruin his interest.”

His gaze sharpened. “Send for Lian Junior Brother. He’s part of Little Sword Mountain too.”

The woman hesitated. “Lian Junior Brother? He doesn’t know how to hold back. What if he—”

“Tell him this man’s swordsmanship is worth bringing to Little Sword Mountain for Senior Brother Mu to see,” the man said. “He’ll understand.”

“All right.” The woman lifted her terminal. “I’ll contact him.”

Despite the one-move defeats, the lure of Starsea Stone kept people coming.

As more and more Outer Court disciples were beaten back, word spread beyond the Outer Court and into the Outer Sect.

Starforce cultivators rarely paid attention to lockforce cultivators. They looked down on them, and they almost never bothered with Outer Court affairs.

This time, they came anyway—drawn by rumor and curiosity.

They gathered at the edge of the stage, laughing loudly, making cutting comments.

Then an old man with a cane stepped onto the stage, one slow step at a time.

Wang Jie’s brows rose. “Senior…?”

The old man waved it off. “Just a small old man of Ten Seals. I’m not worthy of being called Senior.

“I came to challenge Your Excellency’s swordsmanship. Please don’t hold back.”

Wang Jie watched him closely. The longer he looked, the more uneasy he became.

The old man’s presence was heavy—heavier even than Wang Jie’s. Among everyone Wang Jie had seen below the Full-Star Realm, none had carried such dense force.

For a fleeting moment, Wang Jie even wondered if the old man knew Qi Refining.

The old man gathered force at his wrist, feeding it into the cane as if cane and arm were one.

Wang Jie sobered. “I would never dare underestimate you. Please.”

Below the stage, many Outer Court disciples fell silent.

A group of Outer Sect disciples laughed loudly. “Good thing I didn’t cultivate lockforce. I endured until I could cultivate starforce—otherwise I’d be finished.

“Even some old bastard who has to sit down to pee comes out to challenge now!”

The Outer Court disciples around them flared with anger, glaring hard.

The Outer Sect disciples didn’t care. They wore their pride openly, calm and smug, men and women alike.

In the sect, Outer Court disciples had no rights. That was common sense.

No matter how furious they were, they didn’t dare touch Outer Sect disciples.

High above, on the pavilion balcony, the man’s expression turned grave.

“I can’t believe he’s still alive,” he muttered.

The woman frowned. “Senior Brother, you know him?”

“Of course.” The man’s eyes didn’t leave the stage. “How could I forget?

“Senior Brother Mu came to the Outer Court three times for his sake.”

“Three times?” The woman’s eyes widened. “Wait… that rumor—”

“It wasn’t a rumor.” The man’s voice went flat. “It was real.

“Senior Brother Mu lost to him twice. Only the third time did he win.”

The woman went still, staring.

On the stage, the old man lifted his arm and set the cane before him. His gaze was complicated—part nostalgia, part something tightening in his chest.

“How long has it been since I last drew my sword?” he murmured. “I thought I’d die in the Outer Court and bury this move with me. I didn’t expect I’d get another chance.”

He looked at Wang Jie. “Little brother… you’re a lockforce cultivator too, aren’t you?”

Wang Jie nodded. “I am.”

The old man let out a long sigh. “Lockforce cultivators have no future. The Outer Court has fifty million disciples—how many die with their hearts full of bitterness?

“People like Wu Mian who reach the Full-Star Realm are too rare. Most of us can’t even reach the Star-Breaking Realm. I’m one of them.”

He tightened his grip. “In the eyes of starforce cultivators, we’re weeds. They use us, then cut us down when they’re done.”

His gaze sharpened. “But we can’t abandon ourselves.”

He tapped the cane lightly on the stage. “Respect isn’t something others give you.”

As he spoke, the outer layer of the cane began to peel away, flaking off in slow strips.

A sword was revealed inside.

It wasn’t bright, and it wasn’t sharp. Even the edge looked dull.

Yet the moment the sword appeared, a suffocating heaviness rolled out from the old man like a tide.

Wang Jie’s pupils widened.

Force expanded—rippling outward, centered on the blade. It was as if the sword itself was growing larger, swallowing the space around them.

It wasn’t the sword expanding.

It was the force.

“Make your move,” the old man said, lifting his eyes.

Wang Jie stepped forward. This time, he didn’t use the hilt.

He thrust straight in.

Rainbow-Drinking Sword Form.

Fast. Ruthless. Precise.

Among Ten Seals, almost no one should have been able to take it head-on.

A strike meant to end the fight in a single blow.