Chapter 84

Chapter 84: Success at Last, Ambushed on Leaving Seclusion!

Zhao Chun looked around—and saw a sect erupt in divine light. Its elders and disciples closed their eyes, brows relaxing as though they had stepped into an immortal dream. Even those trying to remain composed couldn’t hide their joy.

“So it went to them,” Zhao Chun murmured.

Liu Xuan nodded. “That first breath of fortune has reached their sect. From Profound Division down to someone who’s only just begun drawing qi into their body, everyone will be nourished. Those attending the Hundred Sects Assembly benefit the most. You and I can look forward to our turn.”

When the light faded, the elders remained steady, but the disciples’ eyes held unmistakable reluctance—as if they’d been dragged back from paradise.

Xuanwu continued to breathe out fortune, sending one radiant stream after another across the arena.

Then, after several sects had received their share, Ling Zhen’s position flared with divine light as well. Zhao Chun felt as if she were submerged in a warm ocean of spiritual qi. The two roots in her dantian rejoiced, yet there was none of the usual violent surge of cultivation. The qi flowed in gentle and soft, seeping into her body and lifting her realm steadily.

She lost track of time in that warmth. When the light finally dissipated and the ocean receded, she understood why the other disciples had looked unwilling to let it end.

Just that one infusion had pushed her into the ninth level of Qi Refining.

Judging by the faces around her, the other Ling Zhen disciples had gained just as much.

Xuanwu didn’t stop. After every sect present had received fortune, the statue opened its mouth again. The clear light from above poured into it, condensing into orbs of different sizes. The largest orb rose, dipped into the pool, and flew straight toward Zhi Yue Sect.

Zhao Chun understood at once—this had to be the extra fortune seized in the Fortune-Seizing Battle.

As expected, the remaining orbs scattered in every direction.

Not every sect had disciples who made the top hundred. Those without any presence in the Fortune-Seizing Battle could only watch others be nourished again, envy written openly on their faces.

Ling Zhen had four disciples within the top hundred this time. Their combined fortune was enough to rival the share each sect had received earlier. When the next wave poured into Zhao Chun, she felt the qi in her body finish transforming into true qi, reaching a full, saturated state. All she needed now was a suitable spiritual treasure to build her foundation—and she could step into Foundation Establishment as naturally as water flowing downhill.

When the feeling finally faded, Zhao Chun still wasn’t satisfied. She even found herself wishing for another three or five hours.

She shook her head and laughed at her own greed. This opportunity came only once every 10 years. It wasn’t something she could ask for again. Better to digest what she’d received before dreaming of more.

With fortune distributed, the next stage would be the Essence Condensation battles.

Foundation Establishment and Qi Refining disciples would leave the grounds. Zhi Yue Sect had already arranged places for them: those who wished to cultivate quietly could go to the valley north of Tun Qi Mountain and choose a cave dwelling; those who wanted to purchase spiritual herbs, pills, or artifacts could browse the market at the foot of the mountain; those who still wanted to spar and debate the Dao could use a dedicated martial arena.

Liu Xuan, as an alchemist, had long been itching to visit Zhi Yue Sect’s market. The South Domain’s far southern edge produced many herbs rarely found elsewhere, and she intended to buy as much as she could carry.

Zhao Chun declined her invitation. She went straight for the valley, intent on meditating and sorting through the visions in her mind.

Liu Xuan didn’t press. She seemed to sense that Zhao Chun had gained something from the fortune infusion, and she only reminded her, “After you leave seclusion, return to our lodging before we depart. Don’t wander around outside too much.”

Zhao Chun nodded and accepted the warning. Then she headed into the valley.

Zhi Yue Sect truly deserved its position as the South Domain’s leader. The cave dwellings stretched along the valley like a belt—and every one of them sat directly on the spirit vein.

After recording her name, Zhao Chun entered one and felt spiritual qi so dense it dwarfed her residence in Secluded Valley.

No wonder cultivators yearned for great sects. Their resources were abundant; even ordinary disciples received treatment far beyond what small sects could offer. Of course, the price was harsher selection and fiercer competition.

What Zhao Chun hadn’t expected was a sudden leap in her sword path.

The figure in her mind was familiar and yet strangely foreign. She had always believed her swordsmanship was smooth and complete, but after watching that figure duel, she realized there were tiny hesitations in her movement—brief, almost imperceptible pauses that stole speed and decisiveness.

Each technique connected to the next, yet those faint pauses made the flow feel stiff, as though she were forcing it into shape instead of letting it breathe.

So what was true naturalness?

In the vision, the figure moved like wind. Footsteps were as light as falling leaves—yet as fast as thunder.

Was it the Rapid Stride Sword Method?

And yet… there were differences.

Why couldn’t there be?

When Zhao Chun first obtained Rapid Stride, its footwork and swordplay didn’t align. She had altered it, merging the two until its power increased sharply. After that, she had followed the inherited forms without question, practicing them to completion.

But if she only stayed inside someone else’s patterns, how could the method ever truly fit her?

In the Flying Gourd Small World, the third realm of martial Dao taught that intent was born from technique, and mastery came from complete integration—perfectly matching the cultivation world’s description of an art reaching completion. This wasn’t a truth exclusive to mortals or cultivators. It was simply human wisdom.

Endlessly copying was useless.

You had to take it, make it your own, and only then could you advance.

Zhao Chun rose and drew her sword. Swordlight flowed like a wandering dragon. She shifted from Rapid Stride into her own swordplay, weaving its essence of speed into the Cloud-Sweeping Thunder-Raising Sword Method. As she struck, wind rose, thunder answered, and the clouds seemed to split in her wake.

With the fortune’s nourishment, Rapid Stride reached perfect mastery—and Cloud-Sweeping Thunder-Raising stepped into minor mastery as well.

More than that, Zhao Chun had forged a sword move that belonged to her alone.

Her breakthrough complete, she left the cave dwelling. When she erased her name from the register, she learned she’d been in seclusion for five days. It felt as though only an hour had passed.

She remembered Liu Xuan’s warning about lingering outside. Both of them had sensed something off.

Even though Zhi Yue Sect was the South Domain’s leader, its focus was now on the Essence Condensation battles. Low-level cultivators flooded the area. No one could watch every corner.

If someone with ill intent wanted to strike, this was the best moment.

As Zhao Chun left the valley and entered the woods, a faint, unnatural sound brushed her awareness.

In the past, she would never have noticed. But with Rapid Stride perfected, she could read the wind and hear disturbances—her perception of the world had sharpened dramatically.

A flash of cold light cut through the air.

Thousands of long needles shot toward her.

Zhao Chun was already moving. Her sword rang out, blade weaving into a shield that deflected every needle. When the last one fell, she stood untouched.

“Ren Yang Cult?” Zhao Chun asked, fingers sliding along her blade.

A young man grinned. “Exactly.”