The journey to the Azure Sky Sect took three days by foot and two more by spirit boat, courtesy of the sect recruiter who now treated Lin Feng with a shade more respect than before. Lin Feng said little, his eyes fixed on the distant peaks ahead—towering mountains that pierced the clouds like celestial spears. It was here that the elite trained, where countless geniuses competed for resources, status, and survival.
The Azure Sky Sect was one of the Seven Great Sects of the Southern Domain. Its roots ran deep into the foundation of the cultivation world. Within its walls, thousands of disciples trained in martial arts, alchemy, beast taming, formations, and weapon forging. But in such a place, status was everything.
And Lin Feng arrived with nothing.
No clan name. No background. Just a burlap sack, a broken dagger, and a manual etched into his soul.
---
The spirit boat descended at the sect's outer gate—a massive arch carved from azure jade. Dozens of new initiates stood waiting. Some wore silk robes with clan symbols; others had guards or elder brothers escorting them. Lin Feng's tattered clothes drew more than a few smirks.
He ignored them.
As the recruiter handed him a token—engraved with the character "外" for Outer Disciple—he spoke in a clipped tone. "You'll be assigned to the Eastern Outer Disciple Compound. Your sect duties begin tomorrow. Fail to complete them, and you'll lose your right to cultivate."
Lin Feng nodded and accepted a linen robe dyed light blue—the standard attire for outer disciples.
He made his way toward the dormitory compound. Unlike the elegant pagodas on the main peak, the outer compound was plain, even rough. Rows of stone huts lined gravel paths. His assigned hut was small, barely large enough for a bed and a cultivation mat, but it was clean.
He sat cross-legged inside and breathed.
The Heaven-Devouring Manual stirred.
For the first time, he felt the dense spiritual energy flowing through the sect's mountain veins. It was like entering a sea after living in a desert.
He began cultivating.
The moment he activated the manual, the spiritual energy in the area surged unnaturally, drawn to him in wild torrents. If anyone had seen it, they would have panicked. No basic technique should create such a phenomenon.
By dawn, he had broken through to Body Refinement Stage 3.
---
The next morning, Lin Feng reported for duty at the outer field, where an elder named Meng Tao assigned menial tasks: cleaning spirit beast stables, chopping firewood for alchemists, and carrying water to formation halls.
Lin Feng took every task without complaint.
Many others scoffed at the work, but Lin Feng knew better. He used every opportunity to study. The spirit beasts? He memorized their qi patterns. The alchemy flames? He observed how spiritual fire could be directed. Even hauling water taught him about weight control and qi distribution.
It wasn't long before he caught the attention of others.
Particularly someone named Jiang Chen—a pampered son of a mid-tier clan who resented Lin Feng's rapid improvement.
On the fourth day, Jiang Chen stopped him in the training field. "You're that bumpkin from the village, aren't you?"
Lin Feng glanced at him but said nothing.
Jiang Chen's lips curled. "Don't get ahead of yourself. This sect isn't for peasants. Stay in your place, or you'll regret it."
That night, Lin Feng meditated outside, watching the moon.
He didn't retaliate. Not yet.
But he understood now: In the Azure Sky Sect, strength was law.
---
The sect's first assessment came on the tenth day: a public duel among outer disciples. Those who performed well would be given better resources—spirit stones, pills, and manuals.
Lin Feng stepped into the ring wearing a simple robe, unadorned by clan symbols.
His opponent? Wei Tu, Body Refinement Stage 4, a disciple from a minor clan.
The match was supposed to be one-sided.
But Lin Feng's movements were too fast, his strikes too precise. He struck like someone who had studied hundreds of fighting styles—and in a way, he had. The Heaven-Devouring Manual granted him instinctive insight into martial patterns.
Three exchanges.
Wei Tu lay unconscious.
Silence fell.
From the crowd, Jiang Chen's eyes narrowed.
From the elder's platform, a robed man watched with interest. Elder Su Jian, master of the Sect's Inner Sword Pavilion.
He made a note beside Lin Feng's name.
---
Later that night, Lin Feng returned to his hut to find a letter slipped under his door.
It read:
> "If you want to grow stronger, meet me at the Broken Cliff at midnight. —S.J."
Curious but cautious, Lin Feng went. The Broken Cliff overlooked a deep ravine where spiritual mist pooled thickly.
Elder Su Jian stood there, hands behind his back.
"You use a strange style," the elder said without turning. "Not clan-based. Not sect-taught. Yet... fluid. Lethal."
Lin Feng bowed. "It is self-learned."
"A lie," Su Jian said, amused. "But an intelligent one. I won't ask further."
He tossed a jade slip. "This is the Flowing Sword Foundation Style. Accept it as a reward for your performance."
Lin Feng caught it, eyes sharp. "Why help me?"
The elder smiled faintly. "I dislike Jiang Chen's type. And I admire talent that grows from the mud."
Lin Feng bowed deeply. "Thank you, Elder."
"Don't thank me," Su Jian said. "You've chosen a path where gratitude is a luxury. Walk it well."
---
Back in his hut, Lin Feng absorbed the jade slip. Though his cultivation manual was supreme, he lacked proper martial techniques. The Flowing Sword style offered a foundation he could refine with the Heaven-Devouring Manual's unique power—assimilating techniques, adapting them into a personalized system.
For the first time, Lin Feng felt the pieces aligning: cultivation, combat, opportunity.
His destiny had begun to shift.
But he also knew this was just the beginning. The sect held countless layers—inner disciples, core disciples, elders, hidden factions, and ancient legacies.
He would rise through all of it.
Not by fate's blessing—but by devouring every obstacle in his path.
---