Chapter Two: The Gateway to the Ancient Sect
Ling Yu had no idea how long he had walked through the mountains. His body was weak, his stomach empty, and his knees trembled with every step. He didn't know where he was going, but his heart told him he couldn't stay in the Dead Village any longer.
Days passed before he collapsed beside a narrow mountain path, nearly falling into a deep abyss. Then, as his consciousness fading, he glimpsed a caravan of farmers in rich clothing bearing a crest he didn't recognize. An elderly man with a white beard and deep-set eyes approached, his features dignified and stern, but his gaze upon him wasn't one of contempt, as the rich often do to the poor, but one of curiosity and pity.
The elder approached and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder lying on the ground. Ling Yu felt a warm energy surge through his body, dispelling the pain and giving him some strength.
The elder asked in a calm voice, "Who are you, boy? Where are your parents?"
Ling Yu's heart trembled, and he tried to speak, but tears overcame his words. He finally answered hoarsely, "They're all dead... the Spiritual Beast... left no one behind."
The elder remained silent for a moment, his eyes shining with fleeting sadness, then said, "Follow me. No one should face the world alone."
When Ling Yu fully regained consciousness, he found himself at the foot of a towering mountain, at the top of which stood a magnificent palace surrounded by white clouds. The place looked like a heavenly realm, with massive stone gates and ancient statues of cultivators wielding spirit weapons.
He learned from the caravan that this place was the Immortal Cloud Sect, one of the most prestigious sects in the Eastern Region, founded thousands of years ago by cultivators who had attained the status of Near-Immortal.
The elder, whom he later learned was named Elder Zhang Yun, led him into a spacious inner courtyard where dozens of new disciples were standing. They were all dressed in simple white robes, but their faces were filled with ambition. Some were from noble families, some from distant cities, and all possessed basic cultivation skills.
As for Ling Yu... he was just a village orphan, without any basics, without any support.
When the elder introduced him to the head disciple, murmurs of mockery rose:
"An outer disciple? No wonder."
"A weakling like that wouldn't last a month."
"How dare Elder Zhang bring such a nobody?"
Ling Yu didn't respond. His hand clutched the half-covered stone book hidden in his robe, his eyes fixed on the towering mountain.
"I will ascend... even if they all start from above and I from beneath the ground."
And so Ling Yu became an outer disciple of the Immortal Cloud Sect.
His duties were menial: cleaning the courtyards, fetching water, and tending to the simple spiritual circles. He wasn't allowed to enter the inner library or acquire advanced cultivation techniques. All he possessed was a small manual of a primitive cultivation technique, used only as a testing tool.
But every night, when he returned to his dilapidated hut on the edge of the mountain, he would take the stone book out of his chest.
When he touched it, the symbols would glow again, as if trying to teach him something he didn't yet know how to interpret.
One night, while contemplating the book under the moonlight, he saw a symbol on its surface suddenly ignite and embed itself in his hand, leaving a faint mark resembling a black tattoo on his wrist.
His body trembled violently, and he felt his breathing change... and his previously unmoving spiritual energy slowly begin to flow.
"Could it be... that this book is my path of cultivation?"
With this, Ling Yue's first true step into the sect had begun. He was no longer just an ordinary outer disciple. He was walking a path that no one knew where it would lead, a path fraught with secrets and danger, but also with a power that could change his fate... and the fate of the sect itself.