Chapter 31: Ascendancy and Old Enemies
The Sunken Crimson Ore felt dense and potent in Sanjeev's hand, a tangible promise of future power. The lingering effects of the Vajra Body Refinement thrummed beneath his skin, a deep, resonant strength that made the aches and pains of his ordeal fade into insignificance. He stood at the bottom of the immense canyon, the dark mouth of the lava cave behind him, the towering, sheer cliffs mocking him with their impossible height. The climb out looked daunting, a vertical expanse of rock that would have seemed utterly insurmountable just hours before.
But doubt was a foreign concept now, overshadowed by the raw physical power flooding his limbs. He secured the Crimson Ore carefully within his spatial storage, took a deep breath of the cool canyon air, and approached the cliff face. Finding handholds and footholds that seemed barely adequate, he began to climb.
It was arduous, demanding intense focus and physical exertion, yet it felt… different. Where before, such a climb would have left his muscles screaming and his breath ragged within minutes, now there was a reserve of stamina, a fundamental toughness in his flesh and bone that made the ascent manageable, almost exhilarating. His fingers, strengthened by the first level refinement, gripped the rock like talons; his legs propelled him upwards with steady, untiring power. He moved with a speed and surety that would have been unthinkable previously. The world fell away below him – the roaring river shrinking to a silver ribbon, the cave entrance becoming a dark speck. Hours passed under the narrow strip of sky visible from the canyon depths. He climbed relentlessly, driven by the image of his friends waiting above, by the worry gnawing at him about Xiner.
Finally, as the sun began its descent, painting the sliver of sky visible above in hues of orange and purple, his hand grasped the lip of the canyon edge. With a final surge of effort, he hauled himself over the top, rolling onto the rocky, wind-swept ground where the initial battle had taken place.
The first thing he saw was the small, makeshift camp his friends had erected. A fire crackled weakly, struggling against the mountain wind. Arav sat near it, his head in his hands, the picture of dejection. Xuner stood a little apart, staring out over the vast mountain range, her expression as unreadable as ever, though a certain tension radiated from her stance. And then he saw her – Xiner, lying wrapped in blankets near the fire, unnaturally still, her face pale even in the flickering firelight.
"Arav! Xuner!" Sanjeev called out, his voice rough from disuse and the climb.
Both heads snapped towards him. Arav leaped to his feet, his eyes widening first in disbelief, then in overwhelming relief. "Sanjeev! By the heavens, you're alive!" He rushed forward, almost stumbling in his eagerness.
Xuner turned, her usual stoicism momentarily cracking as visible relief washed over her features before she smoothed them back into neutrality. A faint nod acknowledged his presence.
"We thought... the fall..." Arav stammered, clapping Sanjeev hard on the shoulder, then pulling him into a rough embrace. "We feared the worst! How did you survive?"
"Luck," Sanjeev said, extricating himself gently, his gaze fixed on Xiner. "The river broke my fall. But what happened to her?" He moved quickly to Xiner's side, kneeling beside her still form. Her breathing was shallow, her spiritual energy sluggish and faint.
Arav's expression turned grim. "She saw you go over the edge, Sanjeev. The shock… it was too much for her spirit. She just collapsed. We tried waking her, channeling energy, but she remains unresponsive. It's like her soul itself recoiled from the trauma."
Sanjeev gently touched Xiner's forehead. It was cool to the touch. He frowned, concentrating, extending his senses. Arav was right; her physical body was unharmed, but her spiritual consciousness, her soul, seemed to have withdrawn deep within itself, locked away by the shock and grief. Ordinary methods wouldn't reach her.
He stood up decisively. "I can help her."
Arav looked hopeful, but confused. "How? We have no high-level spirit herbs, no alchemist..."
Sanjeev didn't answer immediately. He accessed his spatial storage, his mind racing through the vast pharmacopoeia inherited from his transmigration and the knowledge gleaned from ancient scrolls. He needed something potent, something that could directly nourish and soothe a shocked soul. He selected several ethereal-looking herbs – Moonpetal Dewdrops, Spiritmend Root, Soulcomfort Blossom – materials that radiated gentle, calming energy.
Then, to the utter astonishment of Arav and Xuner, Sanjeev didn't reach for a furnace or crucible. He simply held the herbs aloft in his open palm. Concentrating intensely, he channeled his spiritual energy, manipulating it with exquisite control. The air around the herbs began to shimmer and warp. Wisps of pure energy, drawn from his core, enveloped the ingredients.
"What... what is he doing?" Arav breathed, his eyes wide with disbelief.
Xuner watched, captivated, her usual impassivity forgotten. "Airborne refinement? Without a furnace catalyst? Is that even possible?"
It was a technique demanding incredible spiritual control and a deep understanding of alchemical principles – manipulating raw energy to replicate the intense heat and catalytic processes of a furnace, isolating essences, and merging them in the volatile medium of open air. Sanjeev focused, his brow furrowed in concentration. The herbs began to glow, dissolving into shimmering liquids and powders, swirling together in a complex, miniature vortex of energy held suspended above his palm. Impurities were incinerated by controlled bursts of spiritual fire, leaving behind only the purest essences. The air filled with a faint, calming fragrance. Slowly, the swirling lights coalesced, condensing into a single, small pill, pulsating with a soft, silvery luminescence. It radiated an aura of profound peace and gentle spiritual power.
With a final pulse of energy, the process completed. A perfect, translucent pill, humming with power, dropped gently into Sanjeev's waiting palm. It was a Third Level Soul Nourishing Pill – a concoction specifically designed to heal spiritual trauma and replenish soul energy, far beyond what ordinary outer sect disciples should even know about, let alone refine under such impossible conditions.
Arav and Xuner stared, speechless. They had witnessed countless alchemists ply their trade, always reliant on specialized furnaces, intricate tools, and controlled environments. To see someone refine a pill – and a clearly high-level one at that – literally out of thin air, using only raw spiritual energy, was world-shattering. It spoke of a level of control and alchemical mastery that belonged to legendary figures, not a fellow outer sect disciple. Sanjeev's secrets, they realized, ran far deeper than they had ever imagined.
Sanjeev ignored their stunned silence, his focus entirely on Xiner. He gently opened her mouth and placed the silvery pill on her tongue. He then placed his palm lightly on her forehead, channeling a soft stream of his own spiritual energy, imbued with the Agni Flame's warmth, to help her absorb the pill's potent essence.
Almost immediately, a faint warmth returned to Xiner's skin. Her breathing deepened, becoming steadier. The sluggishness in her spiritual energy began to dissipate, replaced by a gentle, flowing vitality as the pill's power permeated her soul, soothing the shock, coaxing her consciousness back from the depths. Her eyelids fluttered.
Slowly, groggily, Xiner's eyes opened. They were unfocused at first, clouded with confusion and lingering shadows of despair. Then, her gaze landed on the face leaning over her, illuminated by the firelight – Sanjeev's face, filled with concern.
Recognition dawned. Disbelief warred with hope. "Sanjeev...?" she whispered, her voice barely audible, raspy. Tears welled up, blurring her vision. "You... you're alive? It wasn't... a nightmare?"
"I'm alive, Xiner," Sanjeev said softly, his voice gentle. "I'm here."
The confirmation broke the dam. With a choked sob, Xiner threw her arms around his neck, clinging to him with desperate strength, burying her face in his shoulder. Tears flowed freely, soaking his already damp clothes – tears of relief, of released terror, of overwhelming joy. "I saw you fall! I thought... I thought you were gone forever!" she cried, her body trembling.
Sanjeev held her tightly, patting her back soothingly, letting her cry it all out. A wave of warmth spread through him, a deep affection for this fierce, loyal girl who had clearly suffered immensely believing him dead. Arav looked on, a wide, emotional grin splitting his face, while even Xuner allowed a small, genuine smile to touch her lips. The tension that had gripped the small group finally broke, replaced by the profound relief of reunion, a poignant, funny, and deeply emotional moment silhouetted against the vast, indifferent mountains.
They rested for the remainder of the night, huddled around the replenished fire. Sanjeev recounted a heavily edited version of his survival – emphasizing the luck of the river and omitting the dragon, the soul, the lava refinement, and the Crimson Ore. He claimed exhaustion and the need to rest in the cave prevented an earlier return. While Arav and Xuner sensed vast omissions, they didn't press, respecting his privacy and simply grateful for his survival. Xiner, nestled securely beside Sanjeev, finally drifted into a peaceful, healing sleep, her hand tightly gripping his, unwilling to let go even in slumber.
The next morning, renewed and reunited, they began the arduous journey back towards the Lotus Blade Sect. The trek took five full days, traversing rugged mountain passes, dense forests, and rolling foothills. The shared ordeal had forged a deeper bond between them. Conversations flowed more easily, interspersed with comfortable silences. Sanjeev felt the difference his refined body made; the long days of travel were far less taxing than they would have been before. He spent portions of the journey meditating, consolidating his recent gains and contemplating the strange path his life had taken.
Finally, the familiar, imposing sight of the Lotus Blade Sect came into view, nestled within its protective valley, vast and sprawling. Passing through the bustling outer gates, they made their way directly towards the Contribution Hall, the place where sect missions were assigned and rewards were claimed. They carried with them the fruits of their perilous mission – the storage bags heavy with monster cores, including the core from the Rank 7 beast Arav and Xuner had managed to secure after Sanjeev's fall.
The Contribution Hall was a grand, busy building, filled with disciples coming and going. They approached a counter manned by a stern-looking elder with a long grey beard. "Mission completion," Arav announced, stepping forward and placing their mission token on the counter.
The elder glanced at the token, then at the four disciples, his expression impassive. "Outer Sect disciples, mission 34B, hunting in the Thunder Peaks. Report?"
Arav nodded towards the bags. "Mission completed, Elder. We have procured the required cores, and more." He respectfully emptied the bags onto the wide counter. A cascade of monster cores spilled out – cores from Rank 4, 5, and 6 beasts, glowing with varying degrees of spiritual energy. And amongst them, significantly larger and radiating a much more potent aura, was the core of the Rank 7 monster. In total, well over five hundred cores lay gleaming on the counter.
The elder's impassive expression finally cracked. His eyes widened, first scanning the sheer quantity, then focusing on the Rank 7 core. He picked it up, examining it closely, sensing the potent energy within. A low whistle escaped his lips. "Five hundred and thirty-two cores... including a Rank 7 Sky-Rending Vulture core? From outer sect disciples?" He looked up at them, genuine shock replacing his stern demeanor. Missions requiring Rank 7 cores were typically reserved for inner sect disciples or even elder-led teams. To acquire one, alongside such a vast quantity of lesser cores, was extraordinary.
Suddenly, the elder threw back his head and laughed, a hearty, booming sound that echoed in the hall, drawing curious glances. "Haha! Excellent! Truly excellent! This is the kind of ambition and result the sect needs! I haven't seen a haul like this from an outer sect team in decades!" He beamed at them, his earlier sternness completely gone. "The base reward for this mission is substantial, but for exceeding expectations so dramatically... yes, you deserve a significant bonus! Mark my words, you'll all be well compensated!"
Sanjeev, Xiner, Arav, and Xuner exchanged relieved and happy glances. The danger, the fear, the near-death experiences – they had paid off. The elder quickly calculated their contribution points, factoring in the quantity, the ranks, and the generous bonus he had promised. Each of them received a hefty sum deposited onto their sect identification tokens – points that could be exchanged for cultivation resources, techniques, pills, weapons, and access to training facilities within the sect. It was a small fortune for outer disciples, enough to significantly aid their cultivation for months to come.
Thanking the delighted elder, they left the Contribution Hall, feeling a sense of accomplishment and relief. The points were valuable, but the confirmation of their strength and teamwork was equally rewarding. Arav and Xuner went their own ways, likely heading straight for the cultivation chambers or resource pavilions to spend their newfound wealth.
Sanjeev and Xiner walked together through the familiar paths of the outer sect district, the setting sun casting long shadows. "Let's go to your place?" Xiner suggested softly, her earlier trauma replaced by a quiet happiness. Sanjeev nodded, leading the way towards the modest courtyard house allocated to him.
Inside, they sat together, talking quietly. They spoke of the mission, their fears, their relief, and their plans for the future. The conversation flowed easily, a comfortable intimacy settling between them, deepened by the shared danger and reunion. Sanjeev found himself opening up more than usual, though still carefully guarding his biggest secrets. Xiner listened intently, her eyes rarely leaving his face. As dusk turned to night, the air filled with the comfortable silence of shared understanding. The upcoming competition, the gateway to the inner sect, loomed large in their minds, but for now, they cherished the simple peace of survival and companionship. Time slipped away unnoticed until the moon hung high in the sky.
The days leading up to the Inner Sect Promotion Competition passed in a blur of preparation. Disciples across the entire outer sect were training with feverish intensity, sparring, meditating, consuming pills, doing everything possible to gain an edge. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, ambition, and nervous energy. Entry into the inner sect wasn't just a step up; it was a transition to a different world – better resources, more powerful techniques, guidance from stronger elders, and true recognition within the Lotus Blade Sect. For tens of thousands of outer disciples, this competition, held only once every few years, was the single most important event of their lives.
Finally, the day arrived. A vast, specially constructed platform dominated the sect's central plaza. It was an enormous stage, easily hundreds of yards across, made of magically reinforced stone designed to withstand powerful battles. Around it, designated areas were packed with outer sect disciples – a sea of faces, numbering well over ten thousand by Sanjeev's estimate, every single one hoping to be among the handful who would ascend. The air crackled with excitement and tension. Cheers and shouts occasionally erupted from different sections as popular or notorious disciples made their appearance.
Sanjeev stood with Xiner, Arav, and Xuner, observing the scene. Even Arav's usual boisterousness was subdued, replaced by focused determination. Xuner was impassive as always, but her eyes scanned the crowd with sharp intensity. Xiner stood close to Sanjeev, a nervous energy radiating from her, though her gaze held firm resolve.
Suddenly, a hush fell over the massive crowd. All eyes turned towards the main viewing platform overlooking the competition stage. Several figures appeared there – the sect's highest elders, radiating powerful auras. But it was the figure who appeared in the center that commanded absolute reverence.
He looked surprisingly young, perhaps in his late twenties or early thirties, with sharp, handsome features and long black hair tied back simply. He wore unadorned azure robes, yet his presence eclipsed everyone else on the platform. There was an aura about him that was difficult to describe – calm yet infinitely deep, like a tranquil ocean hiding unimaginable power. His eyes seemed to hold the wisdom of ages, observing the vast crowd below with serene detachment. This was the Sect Master of the Lotus Blade Sect.
Despite his youthful appearance, whispers claimed the Sect Master was well over a thousand years old, a legendary figure whose cultivation base was unfathomably deep. Sanjeev felt a jolt as he observed the man. The Sect Master's aura was different from anything he had ever sensed – vast, ancient, and seamlessly integrated with the world around him. It wasn't oppressive like the soul's power or fiery like the dragon's, but something far more profound, almost elemental.
As one, every single person bowed deeply – elders, inner disciples observing from privileged positions, and the tens of thousands of outer disciples on the plaza. "Greetings, Sect Master! Greetings, Elders!" The unified shout echoed across the plaza.
The Sect Master simply raised a hand. Silence fell instantly. His voice, when he spoke, wasn't loud, yet it carried effortlessly to every corner of the vast plaza, clear and resonant. "The path of cultivation is arduous. Resources are limited. Only the strong, the determined, the talented, may advance." His words were simple, direct. "Today, you prove your worth. Show us your strength, your will. The gates to the inner sect are open to those who prevail. Let the competition begin." He spoke no further, simply resuming his serene observation.
An elder with a powerful voice stepped forward to the edge of the viewing platform. "Disciples!" he boomed. "The rules for the first stage are simple! You have been randomly divided into one hundred groups! Each group will occupy a designated area on the main stage. Within your group, you will fight! There are no rules beyond survival and victory within your designated zone! The last ten disciples standing in each zone will advance to the next stage! Find your assigned group number on your tokens and proceed to the stage!"
A murmur went through the crowd as disciples checked their tokens. Sanjeev glanced at his – Group 1. He looked at his friends. "Group 5," Xiner reported. Arav was also in Group 5. Xuner held up her token – Group 10. They wouldn't be fighting each other in this round, a small relief.
"Good luck," Sanjeev said, nodding to them.
"You too!" Arav grinned, punching Sanjeev lightly on the arm. Xiner gave him a worried but determined look. Xuner offered another curt nod.
The massive crowd surged forward, sorting themselves into their assigned zones marked by glowing runes on the vast platform. Sanjeev found himself in Zone 1, alongside ninety-nine other outer sect disciples. The air here was thick with tension, competitors eyeing each other warily, assessing threats, forming fleeting, untrustworthy alliances.
The elder waited until all zones were occupied. Then, his voice roared across the stage: "Begin!"
Chaos erupted instantly. Battle cries filled the air as ninety disciples in Sanjeev's zone immediately lunged at their nearest neighbours. Spiritual energy flared, techniques were unleashed, weapons flashed. It was a brutal, chaotic free-for-all.
Sanjeev, however, did something unexpected. Instead of engaging, he activated an innate skill, one tied to his unique soul and Agni Flame origin – Size Manipulation. With a mere thought, his body seemed to flicker and then shrink rapidly. Within a second, he was no larger than an ant, hidden amongst the scuff marks and small pebbles on the reinforced stone stage. His presence simply vanished from the perception of the battling disciples, his aura suppressed, his tiny form unnoticed amidst the maelstrom of flaring energy and clashing bodies.
He watched, detached, as the battle raged above him. Disciples fell quickly, blasted off the stage, knocked unconscious, or yielding under overwhelming attacks. Alliances formed and shattered in moments. It was a whirlwind of desperate, ambitious struggle. Sanjeev simply stayed put, conserving his energy, observing. His plan was simple: let the others exhaust themselves eliminating each other. Why waste energy when subtlety could achieve the same result?
The battle raged for perhaps ten minutes. The initial hundred disciples were whittled down rapidly. Soon, only about twenty remained in Zone 1, panting, wounded, eyeing each other warily. Among them was a quiet disciple who had skillfully avoided major confrontations, picking off weakened opponents from the edge of the zone. This disciple, lean and predatory, suddenly seemed to notice something amiss. His sharp eyes scanned the area where Sanjeev had last been seen before shrinking. A flicker of suspicion crossed his face. He crouched slightly, concentrating, extending his spiritual sense.
Then, with a vicious smirk, he flicked his wrist. A thin, almost invisible needle, coated in potent energy, shot through the air, aimed precisely at the spot where the ant-sized Sanjeev was hidden.
Sanjeev felt the prickle of danger, the focused intent. The needle attack, while perhaps not lethal, was aimed with uncanny accuracy. His invisibility trick was up. Annoyed at being forced out of his passive strategy, Sanjeev reacted instantly. There was no point in dodging as an ant; he needed presence. He reversed the technique, pouring spiritual energy into it.
Instead of returning to his normal size, he kept going.
His body exploded outwards, expanding at an exponential rate. One moment, an ant; the next, a towering colossus that dwarfed every other disciple on the stage. He grew until he stood easily fifty feet tall, his head almost reaching the level of the lower viewing platforms, his form radiating immense power and solidity, thanks to his Vajra Body refinement.
The entire plaza fell silent.
The frantic battles in other zones paused. Tens of thousands of eyes swiveled towards Zone 1, staring up in stunned disbelief at the giant figure that had materialized out of nowhere. The lean disciple who had attacked him looked up, his jaw slack, the vicious smirk frozen on his face, replaced by utter shock and dawning terror.
Even on the high platform, the elders leaned forward, their eyes wide. Whispers broke out amongst them. Such a technique... controlling one's physical size to this degree was unheard of, especially for an outer sect disciple. It hinted at an incredibly rare bloodline, a heaven-defying technique, or both.
The Sect Master, who had remained impassive throughout the initial chaos, raised an eyebrow slightly. A flicker of genuine interest entered his ancient eyes as he observed the giant Sanjeev. A tiny, almost imperceptible smile touched the corner of his lips – a mysterious, thoughtful expression that vanished as quickly as it appeared. Sanjeev, focused on the situation below, didn't notice the Sect Master's fleeting reaction.
Towering over the remaining twenty-odd disciples in his zone, Sanjeev looked down at them. His voice, amplified by his size and spiritual energy, boomed across the stage. "Anyone else care to try?"
The remaining disciples stared up at him, utterly intimidated. The sheer pressure radiating from his massive form, combined with the shocking nature of his transformation, broke their fighting spirit. Who could possibly fight that?
Sanjeev didn't wait for an answer. He took one colossal step forward. The stage groaned under his weight. He swept his massive arm in a wide arc, not aiming to injure, but simply to clear the stage. The remaining disciples scrambled, leaped, or were simply bowled over by the sheer force of the air displaced by his hand, tumbling off the designated zone like scattered leaves. Within seconds, the lean disciple who had attacked him was sent flying, landing in a heap far outside the zone boundary.
In less than a minute after revealing his giant form, Zone 1 was empty except for him. Sanjeev stood alone, the sole victor. With a thought, he rapidly shrank back down to his normal size, the transformation smooth and effortless. He dusted off his robes, looking completely unfazed, ignoring the thousands of stunned stares directed his way.
He glanced towards Zone 5. The fighting there was also concluding. He saw Xiner, fierce and determined, deliver a final fiery blow that sent her last opponent off the stage. A few seconds later, Arav overwhelmed his own final adversary with brute force. They, too, were among the final ten survivors of their group. A grin touched Sanjeev's lips. He then looked towards Zone 10 and saw Xuner calmly disable her last opponent with precise, efficient movements, securing her own advancement. All four of them had made it through the chaotic first round.
As the elders supervising the stage confirmed the victors from each zone and declared the end of the first stage, a new figure suddenly descended gracefully from the highest viewing platform, landing lightly beside the elder who had announced the rules.
It was a woman. She appeared middle-aged, though her bearing suggested immense power cultivated over many years. She wore ornate robes signifying high status, and her face, while possessing a certain severe beauty, was etched with lines of authority and arrogance. An almost palpable aura of pressure radiated from her, silencing the nearby disciples.
Sanjeev's blood ran cold. His breath hitched, and an icy wave of fury surged through him, so potent it almost made him tremble. He recognized her instantly. That face, that arrogant tilt of her head, that cold indifference in her eyes – it was burned into his memory. She was the mother of Zhang Wei, the disciple he had crippled in the forest. She was the woman who had ambushed him, intending to kill him in cold blood to avenge her son, only to be thwarted by Elder Mei's timely intervention.
And now, she stood on the main platform, clearly holding a position of immense authority, addressed respectfully by the other elders. A horrifying realization dawned on Sanjeev as he heard the elder beside her address her deferentially: "Chief Elder Rui, the first stage is complete. One thousand disciples remain."
Chief Elder. Not just an elder, but the Chief Elder of the Lotus Blade Sect, second perhaps only to the Sect Master himself in authority. The woman who had tried to murder him held one of the highest positions in the entire sect.
Chief Elder Rui scanned the thousand victorious disciples spread across the stage, her gaze sharp and appraising. For a heart-stopping moment, her eyes swept over Sanjeev's section. But she didn't pause, didn't show any sign of recognition. To her, he was just another face in the crowd, one of the thousand ants who had managed to survive the first culling. She hadn't noticed him.
But Sanjeev had noticed her. The fury warred with a cold dread. His most dangerous enemy wasn't just some rogue elder seeking personal vengeance; she was woven into the very power structure of the sect he was trying to climb. The path ahead had just become infinitely more perilous.
Chapter 32: The Second Test
Sanjeev's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Elder Rui... Chief Elder Rui. The woman who had tried to kill him, the woman he had every reason to hate, was not some minor obstacle. She was a pillar of the Lotus Blade Sect, a force to be reckoned with. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. Revenge... The thought burned in his mind, a cold fire that threatened to consume him. But he knew, with a chilling certainty, that he was not strong enough. Not yet.
He was a mere disciple, a fledgling cultivator in a sect filled with powerful individuals. Elder Rui, as the Chief Elder, was leagues beyond his current capabilities. To act rashly would be suicide. He had to be patient, had to grow stronger. He would bide his time, hone his skills, and when the moment was right... he would take his revenge. The thought was a grim promise, a vow etched in the deepest recesses of his heart.
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to appear calm and collected. He couldn't afford to let his emotions betray him. Not here, not now. He focused his attention on the stage, where the First Elder was addressing the assembled disciples.
The First Elder, a man with a stern countenance and a voice that resonated with authority, stepped forward. A hush fell over the crowd as he began to speak. "Disciples," he boomed, his voice echoing across the vast training ground, "you have all proven your worth by passing the first test. But your journey does not end here. The path of cultivation is long and arduous, filled with trials and tribulations. Only those with true talent and unwavering determination can hope to reach the pinnacle."
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the sea of faces before him. "Now," he continued, "we move on to the second test. In this test, you will demonstrate your skills and talents beyond martial arts. The Lotus Blade Sect values not only combat prowess but also proficiency in other disciplines. You will have the opportunity to showcase your abilities in various fields, including alchemy, spiritual food preparation, beast taming, weapon refinement, and formation making."
A wave of excitement rippled through the crowd. The disciples buzzed with anticipation, eager to display their unique talents. Sanjeev, however, remained thoughtful. He possessed a degree of mastery in almost every skill mentioned, a legacy of his past life and his unique ability to learn and adapt. But weapon refinement... that was the one area where his knowledge was limited.
Xiner's voice broke through his thoughts. "I choose beast taming," she declared, her eyes shining with confidence. "It is my specialty." A murmur of approval rose from the surrounding disciples. Xiner was known for her exceptional talent in beast taming, a skill she had honed since childhood.
Aarav, Sanjeev's friend from the Alchemist Association Hall, stepped forward. "I will demonstrate my alchemy skills," he announced, his voice filled with pride. Aarav was a gifted alchemist, even at his young age, and Sanjeev knew his friend would excel in this test.
Xuner, a girl from a family renowned for their weapon refinement skills, spoke next. "I choose weapon refinement," she stated, her voice firm and resolute. "It is my family's legacy, and I intend to honor it."
Sanjeev found himself in a dilemma. He was proficient in alchemy, thanks to Aarav's guidance and his own insatiable thirst for knowledge. He had a natural affinity for formations, a skill he had picked up from ancient texts. He could even prepare spiritual food, drawing upon his knowledge of Indian cuisine and his ability to infuse it with spiritual energy. But weapon refinement... that was a field he had only a theoretical understanding of.
He turned to Aarav for advice. "What should I choose, Aarav?" he asked, his voice low. "I have some skill in many areas, but I don't excel in any one except alchemy, and you are doing that."
Aarav considered for a moment, then a thoughtful expression crossed his face. "You should choose alchemy, Sanjeev," he said. "I know you possess a deep understanding of the art, far beyond what you have shown others. It would be a waste for you to choose something else."
Sanjeev nodded slowly. Aarav's words resonated with him. He did have a unique talent for alchemy, a talent that stemmed from his ability to perceive the very essence of matter and energy. It was a skill he had honed in secret, experimenting with different combinations of herbs and minerals, pushing the boundaries of what was thought possible.
"Alright," Sanjeev said, a spark of determination igniting within him. "I will choose alchemy."
As the disciples made their choices, Sanjeev observed the crowd. As Xiner had predicted, most of the students opted for beast taming. It was a practical skill, valued for its ability to provide companionship, protection, and even combat support. Weapon refinement was also a popular choice, particularly among those from families with a history in the craft.
Alchemy and formation making, however, attracted fewer participants. These skills were considered rare and difficult to master, requiring a deep understanding of complex principles and years of dedicated practice. Among those two, formation making had even fewer students.
The First Elder surveyed the disciples, a satisfied expression on his face. "Very well," he announced. "Let the second test begin!"
The beast taming competition was the first to commence. Each participant was tasked with taming a wild beast of at least the third rank within one hour. The third rank beasts were known for their ferocity and untamed nature, making the challenge a daunting one.
Sanjeev watched as Xiner stepped forward, her eyes fixed on a magnificent bird beast of the fourth rank. The bird, with its sharp talons, piercing gaze, and powerful wings, exuded an aura of wildness and untamed power. It was a formidable creature, one that would test Xiner's skills to their limits.
Xiner approached the bird with a calm and confident demeanor. She released a gentle wave of her aura, a soothing energy that enveloped the beast. The bird, initially wary and agitated, began to relax, its sharp eyes softening. Slowly, Xiner extended her hand, her movements deliberate and unhurried. The bird watched her, its head tilted in curiosity.
Then, a moment of connection. The bird nuzzled Xiner's hand, its body trembling slightly. A soft chirp escaped its beak, a sound of acceptance and trust. Xiner smiled, her face radiant with joy. She had tamed the beast in a mere five minutes, a feat that drew gasps of astonishment from the onlookers.
An elder from the Beast Taming Branch of the Lotus Blade Sect, his eyes wide with admiration, approached Xiner. The elder was a renowned beast tamer, a man who had dedicated his entire life to the study and mastery of the art. He rarely praised anyone, but Xiner's talent was undeniable.
"Young girl," the elder said, his voice unusually gentle, "I am impressed by your talent. Have you ever considered becoming my personal disciple?"
Xiner's eyes widened in surprise. To be accepted as a personal disciple by such a renowned elder was a great honor, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. But she hesitated. "But Elder," she said, her voice filled with uncertainty, "I have not yet passed the inner sect competition."
The elder waved his hand dismissively. "There is no need for that," he said. "I have a good eye for talent. I can see your potential. Besides..." He glanced in Sanjeev's direction, a knowing smile playing on his lips.
Sanjeev, sensing the elder's gaze, nodded encouragingly. He knew how much this opportunity meant to Xiner, and he wanted her to seize it. He had full confidence in her abilities, and he knew she would thrive under the elder's tutelage.
Xiner looked at Sanjeev, her eyes filled with gratitude. Then, she turned back to the elder, her face resolute. "Okay, Master," she said, bowing deeply. "I accept you as my master."
The elder's face lit up with a rare smile. "And I accept you as my personal disciple," he replied, his voice filled with warmth. The surrounding disciples gasped in astonishment. The elder had not accepted a personal disciple in over a century, a testament to the rarity of Xiner's talent.
The elder, beaming with pride, reached into his robes and pulled out a small, intricately carved box. He opened it to reveal a lustrous dragon egg, its surface shimmering with an otherworldly glow. "This," he said, presenting the egg to Xiner, "is a gift from your master. It shall be your second beast."
Xiner's eyes widened in awe as she accepted the egg. A dragon egg! It was a treasure beyond compare, a symbol of immense power and potential. She cradled it gently in her hands, her heart filled with gratitude and excitement.
"Come," the elder said, turning to leave. "Let us go to my peak."
Xiner hesitated, a conflicted expression on her face. "Master," she said, "I am afraid I cannot accompany you to your peak today."
The elder stopped, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Why?" he asked.
Xiner blushed slightly. "I... I wish to stay and watch my husband's match," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
The elder's eyes widened in surprise. "Husband?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with incredulity. "Are you married?"
Xiner nodded, her cheeks flushed. "Yes, Master," she said.
The elder, his curiosity piqued, leaned closer. "And who," he asked in a teasing tone, "is this fortunate man?"
Xiner pointed towards Sanjeev, a proud smile gracing her lips. "My husband is Sanjeev Luo," she declared.
The elder's jaw dropped. He stared at Sanjeev, his eyes filled with a mixture of shock and amusement. He knew Sanjeev's true identity, his extraordinary talent, and his connection to Xue Rong. He was also aware that Sanjeev's grandfather, Xue Rong, was his childhood friend. The elder's mind raced, a mischievous plan forming in his thoughts.
A hearty laugh erupted from the elder's lips. "Okay, okay," he chuckled, wiping a tear from his eye. "You may stay and watch your husband's match. You can come to my peak tomorrow."
The elder turned and walked away, his shoulders shaking with laughter. As he walked, he thought to himself, a sly grin spreading across his face. Xue Rong's granddaughter-in-law is my disciple... This is too good! I can't wait to tease that old fool! He chuckled again, imagining the look on Xue Rong's face when he found out.
Sanjeev watched the elder leave, a bemused expression on his face. He knew that the elder and his grandfather were old friends, and he could only guess at the nature of their relationship. He suspected that their interactions were often filled with playful banter and friendly rivalry.
His thoughts were interrupted by the announcement of the next competition. "The weapon refinement competition will now begin!" the First Elder declared, his voice booming across the training ground.
The disciples who had chosen weapon refinement stepped forward, their faces filled with determination. They carried with them an assortment of tools and materials, ready to showcase their skills. Sanjeev watched them with interest, his mind already racing with ideas. He knew that with his Divine Eye and his understanding of formations, he could potentially create weapons of unimaginable power. He made a mental note to explore this possibility further, perhaps after the competition.
Chapter 33: Alchemy Competition
The weapon refinement competition continued, the clang of hammers and the hiss of cooling metal filling the air. Each participant poured their heart and soul into their creations, striving to forge a weapon that would not only meet the requirements but also showcase their unique talent and style.
The challenge was clear: refine an Earth-level weapon. Weapon ranks, Sanjeev recalled, were a crucial aspect of this world's power hierarchy. He remembered learning about them in his brief time in the sect's library. They were categorized into six distinct tiers, each representing a significant leap in power and quality: Earth, King, Emperor, Space, Heaven, and finally, Divine and God level weapons. Each level demanded greater skill, finer materials, and a deeper understanding of the Dao.
Aarav, standing beside Sanjeev, was visibly excited. His eyes sparkled with anticipation as he watched Xuner take her turn. Xuner, with her heritage steeped in weapon refinement, carried herself with an air of quiet confidence. When her turn came, she stepped onto the stage, her movements fluid and graceful.
Xuner began her work, employing a unique weapon refinement technique passed down through her family for generations. Her hands moved with astonishing speed and precision, manipulating the raw materials as if they were an extension of her own will. Her aura flared, not with brute force, but with a delicate, controlled energy that seemed to coax the metal into shape.
The onlookers were mesmerized. Gasps of awe and admiration rippled through the crowd as they witnessed Xuner's mastery. Even the seasoned elders of the Weapon Refinement Branch watched with keen interest, their expressions a mixture of surprise and respect.
Forty-five minutes later, Xuner presented her finished work: a King-level sword. The blade shimmered with an ethereal light, its edges razor-sharp, its balance perfect. It was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, a weapon that surpassed the requirements of the test by a significant margin.
The elder from the Weapon Refinement Branch, who had been particularly impressed by Xuner's skill, nodded slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face. He thought to himself, If this girl passes the final test, I shall offer her a place as my personal disciple. Her talent is truly exceptional.
Xuner passed the test with flying colors and was promoted to the final stage, solidifying her reputation as a rising star in the Lotus Blade Sect.
As Xuner stepped off the stage, a small group of disciples, including Aarav, rushed forward to congratulate her. Aarav, his face beaming with pride, caught Xuner's eye. For a moment, the two of them stood there, lost in each other's gaze, a silent communication passing between them.
Suddenly, Sanjeev sneezed.
The unexpected sound broke the spell. Xuner and Aarav startled, their faces flushing with embarrassment. They quickly averted their eyes, a palpable awkwardness hanging in the air. Sanjeev, unable to suppress a chuckle, watched the scene unfold with amusement. His sneeze, though unintentional, had provided a moment of levity in the midst of the intense competition.
The First Elder, after a brief pause to regain composure, announced the commencement of the next test: the spiritual food preparation test.
"For this test," he declared, "only twenty disciples have qualified. The preparation of spiritual food requires not only culinary skill but also a deep understanding of spiritual energy and its interaction with ingredients. Your task is to create a dish that nourishes not only the body but also the soul."
The twenty disciples selected for this test stepped forward, each carrying an assortment of ingredients and utensils. As they began to cook, the air filled with a tantalizing aroma, a symphony of scents that awakened the senses and stirred the appetite. The fragrance of exotic spices, the sizzle of rare herbs, and the rich, savory scent of cooking meat mingled together, creating a culinary masterpiece that made the mouths of the watching disciples water.
The test concluded, and the elders carefully sampled each dish, their expressions revealing the quality of the creations. In the end, only five disciples managed to pass, their dishes deemed worthy of the title "spiritual food."
Finally, the moment Sanjeev had been waiting for arrived: the alchemy competition.
"Fifteen disciples have qualified for this test," the First Elder announced. "Among them are Aarav and Sanjeev."
A wave of anticipation washed over the crowd. Alchemy was a highly respected and sought-after skill, and the disciples were eager to witness the alchemists at work.
The elder in charge of the alchemy test stepped forward, holding a stack of prescriptions, a collection of herbs, and several alchemical furnaces. "For this test," he explained, "you will be required to refine the pill according to this prescription. We will provide you with the necessary herbs and a standard furnace. However, you are also permitted to use your own furnace if you prefer."
As the disciples prepared for the test, one student, eager to impress, dramatically produced a magnificent furnace from his bag. The furnace was ornately decorated, radiating an aura of power and sophistication. "This," he announced proudly, "is a Turtle Furnace. It is renowned for its exceptional quality and its ability to enhance the refinement process."
The other disciples gasped in amazement. The Turtle Furnace was a legendary artifact, a treasure among alchemists. Its appearance immediately elevated the student's status in the eyes of his peers.
Aarav, unfazed by the display, calmly retrieved his own furnace from his spiritual bag. It was a simple, unassuming furnace, lacking the grandeur of the Turtle Furnace.
The student with the Turtle Furnace sneered at Aarav's humble equipment. "What is that? A toy?" he scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. "You cannot possibly hope to compete with a furnace like this."
Aarav ignored the taunt, his expression serene. He had complete faith in his own abilities and in the quality of his furnace, regardless of its appearance.
The elder signaled the start of the competition. The alchemists ignited their furnaces, and the air filled with the crackling of flames. Each disciple began to work, carefully measuring ingredients, controlling the heat, and manipulating the spiritual energy within the furnace.
Sanjeev, as he always did, approached the task with a unique flair. Instead of relying solely on the furnace, he began to refine the medicine in the air, using his spiritual energy to guide and shape the ingredients.
His unorthodox method drew the attention of everyone present. The elders, the sect leader, the competitors, and even the reclusive Alchemist Peak Elder, who rarely showed himself in public, watched Sanjeev with a mixture of astonishment and disbelief. They had never seen anyone refine medicine in such a way. It was a technique that defied conventional understanding of alchemy.
Sanjeev, oblivious to the stares, continued his work, his movements fluid and precise. Within ten minutes, he had completed the refinement process, producing a batch of pills that glowed with a soft, inner light.
The other disciples, still struggling with their own refinement, glanced at Sanjeev's finished product with a mixture of envy and confusion. They assumed that, given the speed of his refinement, Sanjeev must have produced a low-grade medicine.
The competition time ended, and the elder in charge of the test began to inspect the alchemists' creations. The student with the Turtle Furnace proudly presented his pill, a first-rank medicine that, while decent, was far from exceptional.
Then it was Aarav's turn. The elder examined Aarav's pill, his eyes widening in surprise. Aarav, using his seemingly ordinary furnace, had refined a third-rank pill, a testament to his skill and control. The elder was both shocked and excited.
Finally, it was Sanjeev's turn. The elder approached Sanjeev's station, his expression skeptical. He initially assumed that Sanjeev's hastily refined medicine would be of poor quality. Sanjeev presented his pills.
The elder's jaw dropped. His eyes widened in disbelief. He was utterly shocked. Sanjeev, at the young age of eighteen, had refined a fourth-rank medicine. The pills radiated a potent energy, their quality far surpassing anything the elder had ever seen from someone so young.
The news of Sanjeev's extraordinary feat spread like wildfire. The entire training ground erupted in a cacophony of whispers and gasps. The disciples, the elders, and even the sect leader were stunned by Sanjeev's talent.
Suddenly, the Alchemist Peak Master, a figure of immense prestige and power, appeared on the competition ground. He moved with incredible speed, his eyes fixed on Sanjeev and Aarav. Without a word, he grabbed both of them and vanished, leaving behind a crowd of bewildered onlookers. No one knew where he was taking them, but it was clear that Sanjeev and Aarav had just been thrust into the center of a whirlwind, their lives about to change forever.
Chapter 34: Alchemist Peak
The Alchemist Peak Master, Elder Ye Tan, moved with astonishing speed, a blur of motion that left the onlookers gaping. In the blink of an eye, Sanjeev and Aarav found themselves whisked away from the competition grounds, the sounds of the stunned crowd fading behind them.
They arrived at their destination in what felt like a teleportation. Sanjeev had a moment to observe their surroundings. They were on a floating island, wreathed in clouds, with pavilions and gardens suspended in the air. This was Alchemy Peak.
Alchemy Peak was a place of serene beauty and potent spiritual energy. Rare herbs grew in abundance, their vibrant colors and intoxicating scents filling the air. Waterfalls cascaded down the floating mountains, their mist nourishing the alchemical gardens. The architecture was elegant and refined, with pagodas and temples that seemed to blend seamlessly with the natural landscape. The entire peak hummed with a subtle, powerful energy, a testament to the concentration of alchemists and their constant manipulation of spiritual forces.
Elder Ye Tan led them into a grand hall, its interior filled with shelves upon shelves of rare herbs, medicinal ingredients, and alchemical texts. The air within was thick with the aroma of potent concoctions and the subtle fragrance of countless refined pills. This was the Medicine Hall, the heart of Alchemy Peak.
"Wait here," Elder Ye Tan instructed, his voice echoing in the vast hall. He turned and strode deeper into the hall, his robes billowing behind him. Sanjeev and Aarav exchanged nervous glances, unsure of what was to come.
A few minutes later, Elder Ye Tan returned, carrying a crystal ball. The ball pulsed with a soft, inner light, its surface swirling with intricate patterns of energy. It was an artifact of considerable power, likely used to assess talent and potential.
Elder Ye Tan placed the crystal ball on a nearby table and turned to face Sanjeev and Aarav. His expression was serious, his eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation.
"Let me introduce myself properly," he began, his voice resonant and commanding. "My name is Ye Tan, and I am the Peak Master of Alchemy Peak. I am also an 8th-rank pill master."
Sanjeev and Aarav gasped. They were both well aware of the significance of pill ranks. An 8th-rank pill master was a figure of immense prestige and power, a master alchemist capable of refining pills with extraordinary effects. He was just one step away from becoming a 9th-rank pill refiner, a level of mastery that would earn him the title of "Heavenly Pill Master."
Sanjeev, his mind racing, couldn't help but ask the question burning in his mind. "Elder Ye Tan," he said, his voice respectful, "why did you bring us here? Why did you take us from the competition?"
Elder Ye Tan's gaze softened slightly. "I brought you here," he explained, "because I wish to offer you both a chance to become my personal disciples. I witnessed your extraordinary talent during the alchemy competition. Your skills are exceptional, far beyond your years. I believe that with proper guidance, you could both achieve greatness in the field of alchemy."
He paused, his eyes sweeping over Sanjeev and Aarav. "So," he continued, "do you accept my offer? Will you become my disciples?"
Sanjeev and Aarav were stunned. To become the personal disciple of an 8th-rank pill master was an incredible opportunity, a chance to learn from one of the greatest alchemists in the world. Aarav's eyes gleamed with excitement. He was ready to accept without hesitation. Sanjeev, however, hesitated. He had a complicated past, and he was not sure if he was ready to commit himself to a master, even one as renowned as Elder Ye Tan.
Elder Ye Tan, sensing their hesitation, decided to sweeten the deal. "If you accept," he said, "I will provide you with access to my vast collection of alchemical knowledge, including rare and precious resources. I will also teach you advanced pill refinement techniques, and I will even share with you some powerful armor and martial arts techniques that I have acquired over the centuries."
Aarav's eyes widened. The offer was too good to refuse. Precious resources, advanced techniques, powerful armor, and martial arts – it was everything an aspiring alchemist could dream of. He was about to accept when Sanjeev spoke.
"Thank you for your generous offer, Elder Ye Tan," Sanjeev said, his voice calm and respectful. "But I must decline."
Elder Ye Tan's expression changed. His eyes narrowed, and his voice took on a sharper edge. "Decline?" he asked, his tone laced with anger. "Why would you decline such an opportunity?"
Sanjeev met the elder's gaze steadily, his own eyes unwavering. "I appreciate your offer," he replied, his voice firm but respectful, "but I already have a master."
Elder Ye Tan was taken aback. He had not expected Sanjeev to reject his offer, especially not for another master. "You already have a master?" he asked, his voice filled with disbelief. "Who is this master of yours?"
Sanjeev hesitated for a moment, then decided to reveal a part of his past. "My master," he said, "is a mysterious man, a formation master of immense power. I met him some time ago, and he accepted me as his personal disciple."
Elder Ye Tan was shocked. A formation master? Formation masters were even rarer than alchemists, their skills shrouded in mystery and legend. And to have a mysterious formation master as a teacher was even more unusual. "A formation master?" he repeated, his voice filled with astonishment. "What did you say?"
Sanjeev repeated his statement, his voice clear and concise. Elder Ye Tan stared at him, his mind reeling. He had to know more about this mysterious master. "What is your master's rank in formation?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly.
Sanjeev shook his head. "I do not know his exact rank," he replied. "But he possesses abilities that defy comprehension. He can create entire worlds with his formations, and he can even manipulate space and time."
Elder Ye Tan gasped. His face paled. Even a 9th-rank formation master, a Grandmaster, could not manipulate space and time. Such power was unheard of, legendary. A shiver ran down his spine as he contemplated the implications. If Sanjeev's master could truly control space and time, then he was no ordinary mortal. He could be an immortal, or perhaps something even greater, a being beyond the realm of this world.
Elder Ye Tan stared at Sanjeev, his mind filled with awe and a hint of fear. He began to laugh, a dry, humorless sound. "Okay," he said, his voice strained. "I will not force you to become my disciple. It seems you are already in good hands."
He paused, then turned his attention back to Sanjeev. "But tell me," he asked, his curiosity overriding his shock, "what is your rank in formation? How far have you progressed under such a powerful master?"
Sanjeev replied, "I have achieved the 4th rank in formation mastery."
Elder Ye Tan's eyes widened. His jaw dropped. The crystal ball he was holding slipped from his grasp and shattered on the floor, its light extinguished. A 4th-rank formation master at the age of eighteen? It was inconceivable. Formation masters were incredibly rare, even more so than alchemists. It took most cultivators decades, even centuries, to reach such a level of proficiency.
Elder Ye Tan stared at Sanjeev, his mind struggling to process the information. He had never encountered anyone with such extraordinary talent in both alchemy and formations. It was as if Sanjeev was a prodigy of a caliber he had never witnessed before.
He took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. "How did you come to learn alchemy?" he asked, his voice still slightly shaky. "Do you come from an alchemical family?"
Sanjeev hesitated. He had kept his true identity a secret, but he sensed that Elder Ye Tan was someone he could trust. He decided to reveal a part of his past, but not all of it. Not yet.
"Yes, Elder," he replied. "I do come from an alchemical family." But before he could elaborate, he added, "But before I tell you more, I need your promise. You must swear that you will not reveal my true identity to anyone."
Aarav, sensing the gravity of the situation, also spoke up. "I would also ask for the same promise, Master Ye Tan," he said.
Elder Ye Tan looked at the two young men, his expression serious. He could sense that they were about to reveal something of great importance, something that they had kept hidden from the world. He nodded slowly. "I swear," he said, his voice solemn, "I will not reveal your true identities to anyone. You have my word."
Aarav went first. "My grandfather," he said, "is the leader of the Alchemy Association."
Elder Ye Tan was surprised, but not overly so. The Alchemy Association was a well-known organization throughout the continent, and it was not entirely unexpected that Aarav would have a connection to it.
Then, Sanjeev spoke. "My real name," he said, his voice clear and steady, "is Sanjeev Xue."
Elder Ye Tan froze. His eyes widened in disbelief. He stared at Sanjeev, his mind reeling from the revelation. He remained motionless for several minutes, his expression blank.
Aarav, concerned by the elder's reaction, nudged Sanjeev. "Sanjeev," he whispered, "I think he's having a heart attack."
Elder Ye Tan blinked, snapping out of his stupor. "No, no," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "I'm fine. I'm just... surprised." He looked at Sanjeev, his eyes filled with a mixture of awe and disbelief. "You belong to that legendary alchemist family?"
He paused, then asked the question that had been forming in his mind. "What is your relationship to Master Xue Rong?"
Sanjeev replied, "He is my grandfather."
Elder Ye Tan gasped. He was stunned. Master Xue Rong was a legendary figure in the world of alchemy, a 9th-rank alchemist, also known as a Heavenly Alchemist. He was a myth, a legend, a name whispered with reverence and awe.
Sanjeev was equally surprised. He had always known that his grandfather was a skilled alchemist, but he had never realized the extent of his fame and power. He had assumed that his grandfather was only a 5th or 6th-rank alchemist, not a Heavenly Alchemist.
"A 9th-rank alchemist..." Sanjeev murmured, his voice filled with disbelief.
Elder Ye Tan chuckled, a mixture of amusement and admiration in his voice. "Yes," he said. "Your grandfather is a 9th-rank alchemist, a Heavenly Alchemist. Now I understand why you both are so talented in the alchemical arts. It runs in your blood."
Sanjeev, still processing the revelation about his grandfather, turned to Elder Ye Tan. "Elder," he asked, "does this mean I can join your peak?"
Elder Ye Tan burst into laughter. "Of course, you can join my peak!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with joy. "With your talent, you don't even need to undergo the outer disciple tests. From this day forward, you are a core disciple of Alchemy Peak!"
Sanjeev bowed deeply, expressing his gratitude. "Thank you, Master Ye Tan," he said, his heart filled with a mixture of relief and excitement.
Sanjeev and Aarav then left Alchemy Peak, returning to the competition grounds. Xiner, who had been waiting anxiously for Sanjeev's return, rushed to his side.
"Sanjeev! What happened?" she asked, her voice filled with concern. "Where did Elder Ye Tan take you?"
Sanjeev smiled, recounting the events that had transpired on Alchemy Peak. He told her about Elder Ye Tan's offer, his own initial refusal, and the eventual revelation of his and Aarav's backgrounds. He also shared the shocking news about his grandfather's true rank as a Heavenly Alchemist.
Xiner listened intently, her eyes widening with each new revelation. When Sanjeev finished his story, she was speechless, her mind reeling from the sheer magnitude of the events.
Finally, she found her voice. "That's incredible, Sanjeev!" she exclaimed. "You're a core disciple of Alchemy Peak now! And your grandfather is a Heavenly Alchemist! This is amazing!"
Sanjeev nodded, a smile playing on his lips. He was still trying to process everything that had happened, but he knew that this was a turning point in his life. He had been accepted into Alchemy Peak, and his true identity, though still a secret to most, was now known to a powerful figure in the Lotus Blade Sect. The path ahead was uncertain, but for the first time since arriving in this world, Sanjeev felt a sense of belonging, a sense of purpose.
As the day drew to a close, Sanjeev, Xiner, and Aarav watched the remaining competitions, their minds filled with the extraordinary events of the day. The world was changing around them, and they were at the center of it all, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.