Satisfied with what he had obtained from the exchange, Senior Yül descended from the stage and returned to his seat.
Another senior superseded him barely a couple of seconds later.
He was tall—at least six feet—with broad shoulders and a fit body, walking with the grace of a feline. Closer observation showed Calum that he possessed not only the grace, but also the eyes of one.
"He is Tiogair, a core disciple in the 6th state of foundation like the seven of us. In terms of power, he is only second to us in the whole Core," Yan King once again added his input, presenting the man on the stage to Calum.
"As rumors would have it, he carries the blood of a divine beast: the White Tiger," he continued in an informative tone.
A White Tiger?
Though Calum hadn't yet gone through the sect's repository of knowledge, how could he be unknowledgeable about the White Tiger divine beast? It was a creature even the most isolated village kid knew, standing at the center of many cosmic creation myths.
Interesting. He thought to himself.
Calum had been thoroughly amazed every second since he came to attend this banquet. As for Senior Tiogair, he didn't put out any object for exchange; instead, he offered a piece of intelligence.
"I have come across a piece of interesting information regarding the current imperial administration." He paused, letting it sink in. "Whoever is interested, feel free to manifest yourself. As for what I need... I don't want treasures or cultivation resources. I want someone with expertise in formations to follow me into the Great Wilderness."
With that, he sat cross-legged and waited.
Soon enough, someone expressed interest in the intel. It was a slender senior with an almost feminine appearance.
"Senior, I am interested." Despite his appearance, his voice was incontestably masculine, carrying a deep resonance.
"Very well." Senior Tiogair, who had closed his eyes, opened them, his gaze falling upon the man.
I wonder how they will exchange information without disclosing it to us, or if they will wait until later to talk? Calum wondered curiously.
As he observed them, he noticed that both men had closed their eyes, seemingly in deep meditation.
"They are communicating through consciousness. You can do it too, as long as you open your barriers to your interlocutor," Yan King shed some light on what they were doing.
Calum understood. With the consciousness of a cultivator, talking telepathically was mere child's play; it was simply a matter of mutual agreement between speakers.
"Though, Senior, what is the effective range of these types of communications?" he asked.
"Well, it depends on the speakers' cultivations. Take someone like the Demonic Saint, for example—he could talk with you telepathically even if you were on the other side of the continent," Yan King explained.
A few moments later, they terminated their transaction, and Senior Tiogair returned to his seat. Following this, a plethora of seniors took the stage successively to trade treasures, cultivation resources, and intel.
A great variety of treasures and herbs changed hands throughout the event, broadening Calum's horizons every couple of minutes.
He witnessed a peerless blade that could slash at one's consciousness; a necklace that could create a barrier blocking all manner of attacks; a spear capable of generating a vortex of Qi to turn the hardest ore to dust; and a ring containing a garden of trees bearing mystical fruits.
There were plants rumored to change one's constitution and raise affinity with a particular element, alongside another capable of bringing someone back to life as long as their consciousness wasn't completely shattered.
And that wasn't all.
Various rumors were also circulated. Naturally, Calum didn't hear the details of private intel, but the general premises were announced publicly—after all, buyers needed proof that the information was worth trading for. Some rumors concerned newly discovered inheritance grounds. According to Yan King, an inheritance ground was a place where a past cultivator left their legacy for future generations. Typically created before a powerhouse passed away or left the world, these grounds contained an abundance of treasures and heaven-defying cultivation arts.
They were literal treasure troves. Every newly discovered one triggered the convergence of massive numbers of cultivators, all hoping to find serendipity and ascend in a single bound. Other rumors spoke of sighted demons, the birth of supreme treasures, the ascension of powerhouses, and more.
Finally, the annual banquet came to an end.
"Everyone, thank you once again for participating. I am glad to see the progress of my fellow disciples each year. I won't keep you any longer as we all have matters to attend to. Let us gather once more next year," Sun Luo gave a closing speech, and everyone left the hall progressively.
Standing outside, Calum and Yan King watched the other disciples depart—some walking, running, flying, or simply vanishing from sight.
"So, what are you going to do now?" Yan King asked.
"Well, I will enter a cultivation retreat. I won't step out until at least a year has gone by."
"Ho? What dedication! For a new disciple, entering seclusion so quickly is unusual. But oh well, I approve," Yan King spoke amusedly.
"After that, I will start taking missions. I need to accumulate merit to exchange for treasures and intel from the sect. Overall, my goal is to become strong—impossibly so." Calum wasn't just speaking to Yan King; he was reaffirming his vow. In his mind's eye, only a lonely tombstone remained.
Yan King watched his junior seriously.
He is obsessed.
Yan King didn't know the exact nature of the child's obsession, but he was sure of one thing: it would either become an incredible drive pushing him to the apex at an accelerated speed, or it would become a shackle dragging him into a bottomless abyss.
In any case, if he had to place a bet, Yan King would bet on the kid. After all, he was the only one among those who passed the test who was able to cultivate that technique. Yan King had also given it a try all those years ago, but it had been fruitless. Naturally, the problem didn't stem from his understanding; among all the core disciples, he possessed the highest talent in pure comprehension. No, the problem arose when it came time to actually practice it.
The pain was unlike anything he had ever experienced. If it were merely physical, so be it, but it transcended the physique to strike the soul, mind, and consciousness—the metaphysical entity intricately linked with the body.
To his knowledge, he was the only one among the seven to have pierced the mystery of the scripture on the stele. Even the Saint had come forth at that time, only to depart in dejection when he proved unable to cultivate it himself.
"The road is long, but it's good to know another fellow joined," Yan King said as he emerged from his recollections. Calum looked at him, puzzled.
Yan King didn't explain.
"Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Junior Calum. If you ever have a question, come and see me. Until then, cultivate well." With a laugh full of meaning, Senior Yan vanished like a dissipating mirage.
Calum stared at the empty space for a moment and shrugged.
What a great experience! Next year I will come back.
He threw one last glance at the hall and headed back to his abode.