Morning light crept slowly across the lower slopes of AzureCloud Mountain.
Golden sunlight spilled over rooftops of dark stone and curved jade tiles. Thin mist drifted between the courtyards like wandering spirits, curling around pillars and banners that bore the symbol of the sect — a sword piercing through drifting clouds.
Linfeng stood at the base of a wide stone plaza, staring upward.
His mouth slowly fell open.
Terraced structures climbed the mountainside like steps toward the heavens. Crimson pavilions clung to cliffsides, their lacquered beams gleaming beneath the morning sun. Long stairways wound between courtyards where hundreds of figures moved in disciplined motion.
For a moment, Linfeng simply stared.
"Woah…" he whispered.
His eyes widened as he looked higher up the mountain.
"AzureCloud Martial Hall is way more majestic than I imagined."
The sounds of training echoed through the air.
Wooden swords cracking.
Instructors shouting.
Feet striking stone in perfect rhythm.
The entire mountain seemed alive.
Linfeng scratched the back of his head nervously.
"So this is where real martial artists train…"
He exhaled slowly.
"…Guess there's no turning back now."
He adjusted the worn cloth bag hanging from his shoulder. Inside were the only things he possessed — a spare robe, a small pouch of dried rice, and the small talisman Granny Mei had given him.
His fingers brushed against the charm through the cloth.
For a moment, the bustling sect faded from his mind.
He remembered the quiet village road.
The crooked wooden house.
And the frail old woman standing in the morning mist.
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Don't worry, Granny Mei," he murmured quietly.
"I'll figure things out here somehow."
He tightened his grip on the strap of his bag.
Then he stepped forward.
The **Outer Court Registration Hall** stood near the base of the sect grounds.
Compared to the elegant pavilions further up the mountain, this building was far more practical. Thick stone columns supported a wide roof of layered tiles, and a large wooden plaque hung above the entrance.
Three characters were carved deeply into the wood.
**Outer Disciple Hall**
Long lines stretched across the courtyard before the building.
Young men and women stood shoulder to shoulder, each waiting their turn.
Linfeng stopped at the end of the line.
He slowly looked around.
"So many people…"
Some disciples wore simple traveler's clothing like him.
Others stood proudly in fine robes embroidered with family crests.
A few even carried polished weapons at their waists.
Linfeng rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
"Alright… just act normal," he muttered under his breath.
"No one needs to know you have no idea what you're doing."
The line moved slowly.
Inside the hall, several desks had been arranged in rows. Officials sat behind them, writing names carefully onto long scrolls.
AzureCloud Martial Hall might accept new disciples each year, but the process itself was orderly and strict.
Clan disciples near the front of the line spoke casually among themselves.
They wore matching robes of pale green silk, their belts decorated with silver clasps shaped like coiling serpents.
They looked relaxed.
Confident.
Like they already belonged here.
Behind them stood commoners.
Village youths.
Merchant sons.
Wandering fighters.
People like Linfeng.
He quietly watched the difference between them.
"Yeah…" he muttered softly.
"Definitely not the same world."
The sun climbed higher.
Eventually, the line shortened.
And finally—
"Next."
Linfeng stepped forward.
A middle-aged man sat behind the desk. His hair was tied into a tight knot, streaked with gray. Deep lines framed his mouth, and his expression carried the patient exhaustion of someone who had repeated the same task for years.
Without looking up, the man spoke.
"Name."
"Linfeng."
The brush dipped into black ink.
"Family name?"
Linfeng hesitated.
"I… don't have one."
The brush paused.
For the first time, the registrar looked up.
His eyes studied Linfeng briefly before returning to the scroll.
"Origin?"
"A small village south of Martial Mountain."
The brush began moving again.
After several strokes, the man reached beneath the desk and pulled out a folded bundle of cloth.
"Outer Disciple robes."
He slid them across the desk.
Linfeng carefully accepted them.
The fabric was dark gray with faint blue trim along the sleeves. On the chest was the small AzureCloud emblem — a sword piercing through drifting clouds.
"They're simple," the registrar said calmly.
"But they represent AzureCloud Martial Hall. Wear them properly."
Linfeng nodded quickly.
"I will."
The man pointed toward the exit.
"Your living quarters are in the western barracks. Room assignments are posted outside."
Then he lowered his head again.
"Next."
Linfeng stepped away from the desk.
He looked down at the robes in his hands.
A small smile appeared on his face.
"Well… guess I'm really a disciple now."
Outside, the courtyard had grown even busier.
New disciples crossed the plaza carrying bundles of robes and supplies. Others gathered around a large wooden board posted near the barracks entrance.
Linfeng walked closer.
Thin wooden plaques had been arranged across the board.
Each contained three things.
Name.
Room number.
Training group.
He scanned the rows carefully.
After a moment—
There it was.
**Linfeng – Room 27 – Group Six**
"Room twenty-seven…"
He nodded to himself.
"Alright. That sounds manageable."
The western barracks stood along the edge of the courtyard.
Unlike the elegant sect buildings higher up the mountain, these structures were simple and sturdy. Long halls built from gray stone stood side by side like soldiers in formation.
Inside, the air smelled faintly of wood and straw.
Rows of wooden beds lined the walls.
Each held a thin mattress and a small storage chest.
Several new disciples were already unpacking their belongings.
Some spoke loudly, introducing themselves.
Others quietly claimed their beds.
Linfeng spotted a small wooden plaque above one bed.
**27**
He placed his bag beside it.
Across the room, a tall boy with broad shoulders was folding his robes neatly. His skin was tanned from years of outdoor work, and his hands were thick with calluses.
When he noticed Linfeng looking his way, he nodded.
"New too?"
Linfeng nodded back.
"Yes."
The boy grinned.
"Good. At least I won't be the only one getting yelled at tomorrow."
Linfeng blinked.
"Yelled at?"
The boy laughed.
"You haven't seen the training grounds yet?"
Before Linfeng could answer—
A loud bell rang across the mountain.
The deep sound rolled through the barracks.
Several disciples immediately stood up.
"Training bell," someone muttered.
The tall boy grabbed his robe.
"Come on. If we're late on the first day, we're dead."
Linfeng hurried after him.
"…That sounds bad."
The **Outer Court Training Grounds** lay beyond the barracks.
The moment Linfeng stepped through the stone archway leading into the courtyard—
He stopped.
"Woah…"
The space was enormous.
Stone arenas spread across the open ground like islands in a sea of dust. Weapon racks lined the edges of the courtyard, filled with wooden swords, spears, and staffs.
Hundreds of outer disciples trained across the field.
Some practiced sword forms.
Others sparred in pairs.
Groups of disciples stood in straight lines performing slow breathing exercises.
Wood struck wood.
Feet pounded the ground.
Instructors shouted corrections from across the field.
Linfeng slowly turned in place.
"…Yeah," he whispered.
"I'm definitely the weakest one here."
At the far end of the courtyard stood a raised stone platform.
Three instructors watched over the training grounds from above.
Even from a distance, their presence felt heavy.
Like drawn blades.
The tall boy beside Linfeng lowered his voice.
"Those are the instructors."
Linfeng studied them carefully.
Each wore deep blue robes embroidered with the AzureCloud emblem. Their hair was tied in warrior knots, and their posture carried the quiet authority of experienced martial artists.
A sharp voice cut across the courtyard.
"Group Six!"
Several disciples around Linfeng immediately began moving.
The tall boy sighed.
"That's us."
They hurried toward one of the training circles.
About twenty disciples gathered together.
Moments later, one of the instructors stepped down from the platform and approached them.
Up close, his presence felt even heavier.
He was a large man with thick arms and a square jaw. A long scar ran from his ear down toward the collar of his robe.
His gaze swept across the group slowly.
"New outer disciples," he said.
"My name is **Instructor Kang Jinhai**."
Several disciples straightened instantly.
"I oversee Group Six."
His eyes briefly stopped on Linfeng.
"You stand here because AzureCloud Martial Hall accepted you."
His voice hardened.
"That does not mean you belong here."
Silence fell across the group.
"In the Outer Court," Kang Jinhai continued, "your worth is measured by one thing."
He raised a finger.
"True Qi."
Some disciples nodded confidently.
Others remained quiet.
"Those who possess True Qi will strengthen it," he said.
"Those who do not will learn to cultivate it."
His gaze sharpened.
"But remember this."
"This mountain does not care about your family names, your villages, or your pride."
He pointed toward the training grounds.
"Only strength decides who climbs higher."
His eyes stopped on Linfeng again.
Then he turned away.
"Training begins now."
He pointed toward the far end of the courtyard.
"Run the outer courtyard path ten times."
Several disciples looked stunned.
"The path circles the entire training grounds," Kang Jinhai added calmly.
"Move."
The group exploded into motion.
Linfeng ran with them.
Dust rose beneath their feet as the new disciples began circling the massive courtyard.
The distance was longer than he expected.
By the third lap, some disciples were already breathing heavily.
By the fifth, several slowed to a walk.
But Linfeng kept running.
His chest burned.
His legs ached.
"Okay… maybe ten laps is a little insane," he panted.
But he kept moving.
Every time he felt himself slowing, he remembered Xiao Long's laughter.
And Granny Mei standing alone in the mist.
So he kept running.
Around him, the training grounds roared with the sounds of martial practice.
Wood clashed.
Instructors shouted.
Hundreds of disciples chased strength beneath the shadow of AzureCloud Mountain.
And somewhere far above them, hidden among cliffs and drifting clouds, the higher courts of the sect watched silently.
Linfeng ran beneath it all.
A nameless outer disciple among hundreds.
At the very bottom of the martial world.
But deep inside his chest, something stubborn refused to fade.
A small flame.
And this—
was only the beginning.