Chapter 7: An Unusual Guest

Finally, they had reached the Divine Sword Sect—or, to be precise, Ji Anran and her companions were the last to arrive at the Golden Hall Inn. “What is going on here? Weren’t we told that, after passing through Gale Stronghold, we would arrive directly at the Divine Sword Sect? Now we’re dropped in the middle of nowhere, at this inn—what’s the meaning of this?” Amid such desolation, the Golden Hall Inn stood out conspicuously, both for its imposing presence and the sense that the entire building was constructed from black gold jade. Each supporting pillar required ten men to encircle it, and though the inn was only two stories high, its radiance was so dazzling that it was impossible to look directly at it.

Green Bamboo laughed lightly. “Miss, there’s no need to worry. This is the Divine Sword Sect’s longstanding custom. Isn’t it written clearly on the signboard out front?” Only those who pass the Golden Hall’s trial may proceed to the Divine Sword Sect. Green Bamboo seemed perfectly familiar with the arrangements and pointed to the plaque standing before the inn.

The Golden Hall was not a member of the Divine Sword Sect, but for many years the innkeeper’s greatest wish had been to join their ranks. Lacking any talent for martial cultivation, he was not cut out for such a life. Nevertheless, as his inn had helped the Divine Sword Sect discover many outstanding disciples in years past, the sect made an exception and accepted him as an outer disciple.

When the innkeeper learned this, his happiness was beyond measure. He knew well that he lacked any gift for cultivation; becoming an outer disciple was already a great honor. Now, he was more determined than ever to run the Golden Hall Inn well and help the sect select ever more exceptional disciples.

Ji Anran, though dissatisfied, disembarked from the carriage. The nature of the Golden Hall’s trial piqued her curiosity. Outside, many fine horses and ornate carriages were already tethered.

With a creak, Ji Anran pushed open the door and entered.

Inside, eight people were already seated. With Ji Anran and Green Bamboo’s arrival, there were ten in total. The drivers were in another building, eating and resting; by this point, their task was simple: wait for those who survived the Golden Hall Inn to emerge, then safely deliver them to the Divine Sword Sect. They were well accustomed to this routine.

The inn’s main hall was spotless, with a faint fragrance lingering in the air. Ten tables were arranged, eight already occupied; the remaining two were clearly for Ji Anran and Green Bamboo. The assembled guests’ gazes were cold and severe—no one spared a glance for Ji Anran’s beauty. Survival was all that mattered; a beautiful woman was of no consequence.

With a thunderous slam, the main doors closed.

A silence, profound and absolute, descended—every breath was clearly audible. What was the source of this oppressive tension?

“Welcome, all, to the Golden Hall Inn,” said a rotund old man, his voice smooth. “I am your host. You know the rules: only those who pass my trial will leave here alive. Fail, and there is only one end—death.”

The innkeeper, Golden Hall, was the picture of prosperity, dressed in resplendent golden robes that hardly fit his ample frame—one sensed they might burst at any moment with the slightest movement. In such a grim atmosphere, Ji Anran could not help but laugh, then burst into wild laughter—a beauty so madly unrestrained, utterly lacking decorum.

Rules? Hah—rules, in Ji Anran’s eyes, were nothing but rubbish. Green Bamboo, calm before entering, now drew close, fear showing amidst the severity of the moment.

“Now we have five men and five women. Such a balance hasn’t occurred in years. Those who know me know my rules change every time, but today is different. Each of you is a renowned figure, a master in your own right. You’ve come for the Heavenly Fire Divine Sword—but there is only one. To whom should it go? Naturally, the strongest. No one interrupts me here—no matter how accomplished you are outside, within the Golden Hall Inn, your life and death are mine to command. This time, the rule is simple: whoever leaves the inn alive earns the right to claim the Heavenly Fire Divine Sword.”

“Those who take another route to the Divine Sword Sect are none of my concern. But if you’ve entered my Golden Hall, all must follow my rules.”

Though his appearance was comical, his words rang with undeniable authority. No one doubted him—this man had both the right and the power to enforce what he said.

“Before each of you is a cup of wine. Drink it, and you will temporarily lose most of your inner strength—yes, most, leaving you with about twenty or thirty percent. That will suffice for self-preservation. I require you to fight with only this fraction of your power. You’ve all played cat and mouse, I assume. Now, you may be either the cat or the mouse.”

“Though it seems I control life and death, your fates are still in your own hands. If the cat catches the mouse, the mouse is finished. But if the mouse kills the cat, so be it. If you understand, begin. As for time—let’s say until sunrise tomorrow. No need to rush. I know you are old friends; it pains you to raise a hand against one another. But these are my rules. If you refuse, you may leave, and I have no objection.”

“You know I never force anyone to do what they do not wish.” Besides Ji Anran and Green Bamboo, the others’ faces darkened with hesitation. But in the end, ruthlessness gleamed in their eyes; their resolve was unshaken.

What were old friendships compared to the Heavenly Fire Divine Sword? Ten people, without hesitation, downed their wine in one gulp. Instantly, their faces flushed as though struck by a mighty force—their strength was reduced to less than a third. For Ji Anran, however, it made no difference; due to the Water Sovereign’s treasure and its cold poison, she only ever had thirty or forty percent of her power available. Drinking the wine changed nothing for her.

This composure was misinterpreted by the others—did Sword Sect invite this girl as a ringer? How could one so young have such deep reserves? Even those with decades of cultivation were weakened, yet she seemed unaffected. They concluded her strength far exceeded their own. It would be unwise to provoke her.

Golden Hall himself had never seen anyone resist the wine’s effect. This girl was remarkable. What he thought would be a swift contest was suddenly much more interesting.

“Good. Since none of you will leave, the game begins. I look forward to seeing who among you will survive until morning, though I know the odds are slim.”

A flash—a razor-thin sword aura brushed past Ji Anran’s face. The target was not her but Oldest Chen behind her. Sword Without Trace, famed for his swift blade, found it easy, even at reduced strength, to attack Oldest Chen—a woman of lingering charm, each smile and glance captivating. Yet, facing such a vicious assault, she only laughed coquettishly.

“Sword Without Trace, you really have no pity for a delicate lady, do you? To wound me so ruthlessly—how unfair!”

In that instant, a burly man in black shielded Oldest Chen, shattering the swift sword with his bare hands. “Luckily, I am clumsy and unskilled; I must let these mindless followers handle my troubles. Sword Without Trace, I know you fancy me, and I quite like you—such a handsome man is rare. Tell you what: if you can defeat my useless subordinate, my life is yours.”

Sword Without Trace had acted first; the others saw no reason to rush, for the first to strike was often the first to die. Oldest Chen, though beautiful, was ruthless; she knew no martial arts, but under her command were the Five Great Vajras. This black-clad giant was surely Black Vajra. Sword Without Trace could not match him. The Five Vajras had sacrificed speech for immense strength.

Iron fists swung at Sword Without Trace. His skills lay in swordplay and agility, not endurance, so he dodged rather than engaged head-on. As the first battle began, the spectacle was riveting.

“Oldest Chen, after all these years, you haven’t changed at all. You’ve always relied on others in battle, but you know you’ll never kill me that way.”

“The enmity between us should be settled today.” Sword Without Trace’s body flickered, leaving phantoms across the hall. “My movement techniques are now much stronger, ever since you said they were lacking. I’ve worked endlessly to improve. And today, you have only one Vajra with you. What can Black Vajra alone do?”

Black Vajra’s fists moved ever faster, and though his movement was inferior, his power surpassed years past. “Sword Without Trace, today you’ll die. Do you believe it?”

Feng Yushuang sipped her wine. She was stunning, though a poor drinker; after one cup, a flush of red lit her jade-like face, adding to her allure. Her voice, however, was icy as ever.

“Feng Yushuang, no need for words. If you doubt my ability, you’re welcome to try me yourself—then you’ll see how much I’ve grown.”

It seemed Sword Without Trace knew both Oldest Chen and Feng Yushuang. “Oldest Chen, after so long, I’ve missed you. You’ve spent years focused on command. Now, Sword Without Trace underestimates you. If you wish, why not let me join you in dealing with this wretched man?”

But she had no intention of intervening. Oldest Chen eyed the beauty across from her. “Feng Yushuang, you’re as annoying as ever. As for killing Sword Without Trace, you’ll soon see. Black Vajra, enough playing—finish him. I don’t want to see this man any longer. Since he dared attack me, he knows the consequences.”

“Rest assured, Mistress. I understand.”

Black Vajra’s speed increased yet again. “Surprised? You always said my Five Vajras were useless, but clearly you underestimated them. You’ve always been a frog in a well. Now you’ve seen my improved Black Vajra—what do you have to say?”

“Enough. Whatever you say now, it’s useless. Of all here, you’re the one I find most contemptible. I was only playing with you, but I’ve lost my patience. Now, die. Once you’re dead, everything ends.”

A heavy fist struck Sword Without Trace, and with a spurt of blood, the master of the swift sword was gravely injured in a single blow.

“What have you done to me? How has it come to this? I thought my skills had improved, but now I’m helpless before you. I refuse to accept this!”

“Refuse if you wish—but you’re already a dead man in my eyes. There’s nothing you can do now. Our grudge has festered for years; now, at last, you die by my hand. I’m quite pleased with this outcome. Golden Hall, what do you say?”

“Hahaha! No need to ask—Sword Without Trace lacked the strength and patience. The first to act always dies. We all knew this. I only wanted such a result, and you see it now. Friends mean nothing before a divine weapon. All of you know the rules—now go and hide well, or Sword Without Trace’s fate will be yours come morning.”

Golden Hall was used to such matters, and his heart was always calm—or, perhaps, he had no heart at all.

The remaining eight exchanged complex glances; only Ji Anran remained serene. Green Bamboo, knowing no martial arts, drew close. “Miss, this place is terrifying. What should we do?”

“Don’t worry. Stick with me and you’ll be safe. As long as I’m here, no one can harm you. Just stay seated. The others are all strong; best not to act rashly.”

One by one, the others vanished into hiding. All were skilled at concealing their presence; when they wished to hide, no one could find them. Now, only one other remained in the hall: West Moon.

From the start, he had not spoken a word. Wearing a black mask, with white hair and pale skin, had it not been for the mask, he would have been a handsome man.

He liked solitude, drinking alone. “Good wine finished—now to work. There are only two ways to find hidden things: by scent or by detection. I know both. Miss, if you won’t act, I will.” With that, he vanished.

His movement was uncanny—a future formidable foe. For now, though, let them fight; only then would she be safest.

West Moon was born with extraordinary perception. In moments, he was underground. “Impressive. Do you think hiding solves everything? If so, you underestimate me. For years, my greatest skill has been detection.”

All was still. Even if found, as long as they kept silent, he could do nothing. In darkness, assassins held the advantage. The King of Assassins—a title unmentioned for years—was still confident in his skills.

Meteor Shard had never abandoned his art. He used to scorn divine weapons, but now he believed one could enhance his craft. This time, whatever it took, he would obtain the weapon.

“Meteor Shard, I’ve been searching for you for years. They say you were the greatest assassin, but I never believed it. Now that I’ve found you, we must settle this. I know I can do it.”

West Moon was once the King of Throwing Weapons—never missing his mark. But since Meteor Shard’s rise, everything changed. Now, only one name was remembered; the King of Throwing Weapons was history.

“Meteor Shard, if you like games, let’s play. But if I catch you, don’t think I’ll let you go!”

The darkness was oppressive. West Moon’s perception was limited; had he his full strength, it would be easy, but now, he was at a loss.

“West Moon, you’ve come. I know—even with your skills, you’ll find me. But know this: I’ve never accepted your reputation. Why don’t we join forces for now? Once we’ve dealt with this mess, we can fight another day. Or would you rather we destroy each other, only for someone else to reap the reward?”

West Moon considered, then nodded. “You’re right. It’s our only way out. With my senses and your assassination skills, where can’t we go? I never imagined we’d work together.”

His tone was relaxed, as if before an old friend. Perhaps they were, after so many years.

Meteor Shard was pleased. He’d never wanted to fight West Moon; in truth, he regarded him as a brother. If their old grudge could be laid to rest, so much the better.

Unbeknownst to West Moon, as long as they joined forces, no place would be beyond their reach.

“Hahaha! So you two have joined hands? I hadn’t expected that. I originally planned to strike once you were both weakened. Now, it seems I’ll need other tactics. Still, I’m curious—just how strong are you?”

Zuo Chongling stepped forward. For him, this environment was favorable. Years ago, he lost his sight in battle, and since then, his sword aura had only grown stronger; he could sense the world through it.

“What powerful sword aura! Very well. Meteor Shard, looks like he’s our enemy. How confident are you against him?”

Sword—swift as lightning.

“With sword aura as my shield, neither of you can harm me. If you want to act, now is your last chance. Miss it, and you’ll never get another.”

“People think I’m a master of swordplay, but my true skill is sword aura defense. I’ve honed it for years but never used it, as I’ve never met a worthy opponent. Rest assured, you cannot break through.”

Zuo Chongling knew no sword techniques, only sword aura. How had he obtained such power? Only the Heavenly Fire Divine Sword could neutralize it; if he did not obtain the sword, the aura would eventually consume him.

The very thought chilled him. The one who infused him with sword aura wished only to watch him die—but he had endured worse. The aura was nothing.

Yet, before he could seize the sword, he needed to eliminate these two foes. “What, are you afraid now? Not even the courage to attack?”

“What do we do? This man wields sword aura that isn’t truly his. Even combined, I doubt we can resolve it. Any ideas?”

West Moon was out of options and hoped Meteor Shard would have a plan. “You must be joking. What can I do now? Sorry—I have nothing. But it won’t be easy for him to overcome us, either.”

Zuo Chongling said coolly, “No intention to act? Then I’ll do it. I haven’t fought seriously in years; I’m not about to miss this chance.”

“Miss, it seems only you and I remain in the main hall. Are we just to sit here? What if someone attacks us?”

Green Bamboo, untested in such matters, was anxious. Ji Anran smiled, “Don’t worry. Who says we’re alone? Have you forgotten Golden Hall? He’s the innkeeper, yes, but also a contender for the divine sword.”

Though he said nothing, Golden Hall’s ambition was clear. He had done so much for the sect, but what had he gained? The title of outer disciple—a mere afterthought. The Divine Sword Sect never truly accepted him, no matter what he did.

“Golden Hall endured much—how could he be content? He seeks the sword to become a true disciple. Clever as he is, he fails to see that the sect never held him in esteem, regarding all he did as only proper. He should have known, but refused to believe it.”

“Hahaha! I meant to hide a while longer, but you found me out so soon. Impressive! Among the ten, only you are truly troublesome. I’d hoped to save you for last, but since you insist, you bring disaster upon yourself.”

Ji Anran rose, smiling serenely. “Elder, there’s no need to pretend. You’ve always been a hidden master, am I right? You possess many secret arts, though you concealed them well. But with me here, everything changes. Elder, there are actually eleven people in the Golden Hall Inn, and you are the strongest and most troublesome. Even at my peak, I was not certain of victory against you, and now, even less.”

Ji Anran was not exaggerating. With only a fraction of her strength, she might manage a narrow victory—but this place had stood for years; it was not without foundation.

Golden Hall’s plump face finally broke into a grin. “Remarkable! Truly remarkable. After all these years, to be acknowledged by the Water Sovereign’s heir—it makes all my efforts worthwhile. You are right: from the moment you entered, your life was in my hands.”

“I’ve heard the Water Source Sect is formidable, but I’ve never seen its arts. I’d like to, if you’d oblige me.”

“Though my strength is considerable, I do not believe I can defeat you. Your skills far exceed mine, even now. So, I do not intend to fight you. My task is simple: to watch you.”

“To watch me? Did the Divine Sword Sect’s master instruct you?” Ji Anran was battle-ready; if the fat man attacked, she would fight to the end. Yet, he showed no sign of aggression.

“That is not your concern. If you wish to fight, you’ll have your chance in time. You are poisoned by cold; you cannot fight now, surely you know that? And most importantly, your opponent was never me. I’ll tell you quietly: you have already earned the right to proceed to the Divine Sword Sect. If you must ask why, all I can say is, Ji Anran, you have never been an ordinary guest. Are you satisfied with this answer?”

An extraordinary guest? The answer caught Ji Anran off guard. To proceed to the Divine Sword Sect without a fight—if things could be so simple, then all the better.