Deep in the mist, a mountain peak pierces straight into the sky, like a sharp sword pointing to the ground.
As the distance closed, the bottom of the mountain became crowded with people. Rich businessmen, nobles, and even beggars with barely any clothes on—all these people who had nothing in common with them were now huddled together, gazing longingly at the stairway that led straight to the sky.
Compared to here, there are very few people on the stairs. From a distance, they look like a few worker ants separated from an ant colony, stumbling and climbing up.
Several white sword lights flashed through the air, and the crowd on the ground suddenly became excited. Some were kneeling and some were lying on the ground, and the shouts of "Immortal" were louder and louder than the last one, rushing into the sky.
This unprecedented event lasted for half a month, and the crowd gradually dispersed at the end of the month.
On the top of the mountain, hundreds of children stood on the jade-flat boulder ground, gazing at the immortals in the front with either joy or worry.
Taoist Lingxiao was at the very top, his hair and beard were all white. He stroked his beautiful beard that reached his chest with one hand, and held a dustpan in the other, looking at each child thoughtfully.
After a while, the empty seats nearby were filled one by one. Taoist Lingxiao glanced at the first chair below and said, "Why, Shangqing still isn't coming?"
A female cultivator in a green silk dress covered her face with her hands and said with a smile, "Shangqing said he never accepts disciples, so I won't bother you anymore."
As she spoke, the woman's eyes seemed to accidentally pass over a male cultivator opposite her. The man was strong and muscular, with a huge hammer at his side. He was full of murderous aura and looked very difficult to deal with.
The female cultivator didn't bother to hide her gaze. The male cultivator frowned and shouted in a voice like a drum, "What do you mean, Master Yunxin?"
"During the sect's ten-year election, Xiaoyao Peak Master has never been present. Do you think I should tie him up and bring him here?"
True Lord Yunxin's smile remained unchanged: "Peak Master Wuxiang is wrong. I'm afraid you can't restrain Peak Master Xiaoyao."
"You!" The big man, the master of Wuxiang Peak, was immediately furious. He was about to stand up with the huge hammer in his hand, but was held down by a gust of wind.
Taoist Lingxiao waved his whisk and frowned at the big man: "Wuxiang, please pay attention to the occasion."
After saying this, he turned to the female cultivator and said, "Yun Xin, send a message to Shang Qing, asking him to come here within a quarter of an hour, otherwise he will be the leader of the Tian Jue Valley group next year."
"Yes." Yun Xin nodded slightly, and a message flew out from her sleeve. Then she closed her eyes and didn't even look at the big man who was glaring at her opposite.
The Wuxiang Peak Master was extremely angry. He sneered and looked up: "Master, since the Xiaoyao Peak Master doesn't want to accept disciples, why not start now?"
He had just been insulted by Yun Xin, intentionally or unintentionally, and his anger was still not over. He just wanted to quickly recruit disciples and leave. He was too lazy to watch the scene of Yun Xin and the master of Xiaoyao Peak colluding with each other.
Taoist Lingxiao raised his eyes and asked the four peak masters for their opinions. He then raised his whisk and sent a clear air into the sky, clearing away the clouds and mist.
The more than one hundred children only saw the thick white fog in front of them dissipate, and then five immortals appeared before them, and they knelt down one by one.
Most of them were mortals and could not see the appearance of the immortal in front of them, but the feeling of their bodies suddenly becoming lighter was real, so they all bowed their heads in worship.
Taoist Lingxiao's voice rang out like a huge bell, echoing from the peak to the foot of the mountain—"The 451st Xuanyuan Sect Disciple Recruitment Ceremony begins!"
The sound reached the sky, and children were assigned one by one. Most of them were servants or outer disciples. Only one in ten inner disciples remained, not to mention the direct disciples of several Yuanying Zhenren.
The expressions of several Yuanying Zhenren gradually became cold, and even Lingxiao Taoist sighed slightly.
For ten thousand years, the spiritual energy in the world of cultivation has been declining, there is no one who has ascended to heaven through the righteous path, spiritual breakthroughs are becoming more and more difficult, evil cultivators are rampant, mortals are suffering, and even the qualifications of disciples are getting worse and worse.
Xuanyuan Sect is the largest sect in the righteous way. A thousand years ago, it accepted disciples once every thirty years. However, later on, the quality of disciples varied greatly, and the time limit was gradually shortened. Now it has been shortened to ten years.
But despite this, there are very few disciples who are worthy of his attention. The direct disciples of several peak masters can be counted on one hand.
The devil is on the rise and the Tao is on the decline. Even the Xuanyuan Sect is in such a state. One can imagine what the situation is like in the world of cultivation today.
The Demonic Path has two Divine Transformations, and it's rumored that a third will appear soon. However, the Righteous Path only has three, and the other Nascent Soul cultivators show no signs of breakthrough. If this trend continues, within a thousand years, the world will be overrun with Demonic cultivators...
Taoist Lingxiao closed his eyes.
The righteous path is weakening. Now, perhaps only Shangqing still has a glimmer of hope, but...
Never mind, never mind...
Taoist Lingxiao looked into the sky and saw the surging demonic energy thousands of miles away, and could not find the way to the future.
On the stairs, a skinny boy struggled to get up from the edge of the cliff with great effort.
Three of his fingers were broken, his fingertips were flying, his face was covered in bruises, and his left leg was twitching involuntarily.
The boy was so thin that he looked like a skeleton. His feet were bare and he was wearing clothes that were much larger than an adult's and had bloodstains all over them from knife cuts.
His whole body was in pain, and his fingers were connected to his heart. He couldn't even feel his flipped fingernails as his bloody hands climbed up a staircase.
Taoist Lingxiao's voice just now was heard from far away, and the boy did not fail to hear it. Now, even though it hurt or he was tired, he did not dare to stop and continued to climb up step by step.
The boy was very smart and he was originally in the front row, but how could a beggar with barely any clothes compare with those boys in gorgeous clothes?
Not to mention that he was bullied at the foot of the mountain. It was said that there was even a son of the peak master inside, who looked at him gloomily all the way.
The boy felt like he was on edge. He didn't care about other people's eyes, but he was just an average talent. He was lucky to be an outer disciple, otherwise he would be a servant. If he was really targeted by that kid, he would probably not survive long even if he entered the sect.
In this world, the strong prey on the weak, and the boy, having lived so long, knows this all too well. He deliberately slowed down, falling behind the man whose gaze was on him, but he never expected that man to have no intention of letting him go...
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