A Waste of Time

Chapter 140: Noon Vigil

“Congratulations to all contestants who made it to the summit.” Elder Cuifen’s voice carried clearly as she withdrew the final Outer Disciple from the mountain path, depositing him safely among the group on the right side of the trial.

“Every Applicant standing on the left side of the trial,” she continued, her tone precise and firm, “report to Elder Zhou in the administrative hall to receive your Outer Disciple Attire and the details of your Rooster accommodations.

“Outer Disciples may return directly to your Roosters to rest and recover for today. You may begin accepting tasks from the Assignment Office starting tomorrow.

“Those standing below the mountain, return to the Applicants’ Barracks if you wear Applicants’ Attire. Those still in Outer Disciples’ Attire must report to Elder Zhou before nightfall to accept your Demotion and receive your Applicants’ Attire. Fail to do so, and the Law-Enforcers will throw you in the cold cellars for a week.

“Everyone standing on the right side of the trial, and all who reached the summit, follow me if you wish to continue participating in the next stage of the Sect-Competition.”

Her words fell like judgments written in stone. Without a backward glance, the petite woman glided down the far slope of the mountain, though her green eyes lingered one last time on the boy before she vanished from sight.

The results split the gathered disciples into three currents.

Those Demoted — the Outer Disciples stripped back to Applicants, and the Applicants who failed to seize Promotion — walked away like shades. Their steps were hollow, their faces pale, their silence heavy as death.

Those who managed to hold onto their rank as Outer Disciples exhaled in relief, shoulders sagging as they trudged toward their Roosters to rest.

And those who had clawed their way up from Applicants to Outer Disciples strode toward the administrative hall with bright eyes and buoyant steps. Laughter and spirited chatter broke out among them — the unguarded joy of victory. Among this crowd were Fa Mei, Ai Biyu, and fifty-seven more of Daemon’s followers, most of them former Slaves. No longer would they be called by that name. They had leapt not one, but two ranks.

On the path ahead, Daemon walked with Su An at his side, followed by Wei Shun, Kang Lai, Luo Han, Sun Kai, and seven more of his closest band. Around them moved the Elite Outer Disciples, gathered in twos and threes — a bit higher in number compared to Daemon’s group, but undeniably superior in Cultivation and strength.

Beyond them stretched the mass of over nine hundred and fifty other Outer Disciples. Yet for all their numbers, they did not share the confidence of the Elites. The next stage of the Sect-Competition loomed before them, and it would pit them against the Inner Disciples — Cultivators who stood far above them in every measure.

Inner Disciples enjoyed the Mountain’s richest Spirit Resources, trained in superior facilities, received personal guidance from Instructors every month, and reaped generous rewards in Contribution Points for their missions. They were too strong, too well-nurtured, too far ahead.

The disciples gathered at the summit knew the truth. What awaited them now was not a fair contest. It was an uphill struggle against overwhelming odds.

One thousand descended the mountain in a long procession.

They crossed a forest path where Beasts lurked in the shadows, fangs bared and eyes glinting. Some howled threateningly, others growled low warnings, making it clear that the disciples were not welcome to intrude into their territories. The group pressed forward, circling the edge of a lake before finally emerging from the treeline.

Ahead stood the Mountain Gate — a towering archway crowned with a grand signboard. Four flamboyant strokes spelled out the name: Ten-Thousand Beast Mountain.

On either side of the gate lounged two Magic Beasts, their massive bodies coiled in deceptive idleness. Their eyes followed the procession lazily, but the weight of their presence was enough to send shivers through even the braver disciples. Beyond the arch stretched an impossibly vast road — smooth, straight, and wide enough to swallow a dozen city streets whole. It climbed upward, carved directly into the side of the greatest mountain Daemon had ever seen.

He froze, baffled. Such a behemoth of a landscape had never once appeared in his sight, even though he had walked different corners of this Sect. Yet here it was — standing right beside him all along. Clouds swallowed its upper reaches, obscuring what lay above, but below that veil he glimpsed pagodas and towers, halls and plazas, elegant bridges arched over streams and fountains, greenery alive with birdsong.

“Heh.” Su An smiled, delight sparking in her eyes when she caught his expression. “I bet you weren’t expecting such a difference between your first and second visits, huh? Especially so soon.” For once, she enjoyed being the playful one, teasing him openly.

Daemon only nodded, still scanning the horizon. “I just can’t understand how I missed a mountain this massive while standing on it for a whole day. What’s going on here?”

“It’s an Illusion-Formation,” Wei Shun explained calmly. “One of the highest quality.”

“It’s said only those with a Golden Core Cultivation or higher can even spot the effect,” Kang Lai added. But his eyes betrayed him, straying over Su An’s form as though tugged by a compulsion. Ever since he had swallowed Daemon’s Life-Blood, emotions surged through him like a tide — wild, volatile, demanding release. The longer he held them back, the more they gnawed at the edges of his sanity.

“But how come I’m able to see it now?” Daemon finally asked, unable to piece together the answer on his own.

“It’s our Sect Attire,” Sun Kai replied, tapping the Mountain’s insignia on his black-and-white robe. “Without it, we’d already be lost in the fog of the Illusion-Formation.”

“That’s if you didn’t get torn apart by the Beasts first,” Luo Han added grimly. He glanced back down the path they had taken, his scarred hand rising to scratch at the old marks by reflex — a nervous tick that betrayed his unease.

Daemon’s eyes narrowed in thought. Then, acting on impulse, he slipped the robe from his shoulders.

The world vanished.

Instantly he was swallowed in a dense, suffocating fog — white, heavy, thick with the presence of unseen danger.

Howl.

The sound cut through the haze, deep and guttural, and Daemon knew it came from the direction of the Mountain Gate. Heart steady, he donned the robe once more.

The fog dissolved. The world returned. The Gate loomed, and the two Magic Beasts that flanked it were no longer lounging idly. Their brown fur bristled like iron spikes, and their intelligent eyes burned with predatory light. Beneath the fur, Daemon caught the glimmer of reddish scales; from under their floppy ears peeked tiny horns, and their tails ended in curved, menacing spikes.

Almost every Outer Disciple had instinctively scattered to the sides of the path, keeping their distance. Only Su An and twelve of Daemon’s followers held their ground before him, their bodies taut, their gazes fixed warily on the beasts.

Daemon brushed past them and stepped forward, planting himself boldly in front. His chin lifted, his eyes locked with theirs, defiance written plain across his face.

“What? Want to fight?”

Grrrrr.

The beasts’ growls rolled like thunder, and for a heartbeat it seemed they might truly accept the boy’s reckless challenge.

“Enough! Er Hu, Er Hai.” Elder Cuifen’s voice cracked from above, sharp as a whip. “Return to your posts before I report your behavior to Chief Protector Shenyan.”

Snort.

The pair of colossal hounds huffed in dissatisfaction, claws gouging the stone beneath them as they turned away. But before they left, they cast one last glance at Daemon — a look that promised: You’re lucky this time, brat. Next time, you won’t be.

They padded back to their usual spots by the Gate, settling into their lazy facade, though inside their blood burned. Boredom was their eternal curse here. They had leapt at the chance to flex their authority the moment Daemon dared strip off his uniform. Anyone standing on this path without Sect Attire was either an enemy or a guest — and no one had told them to expect guests today.

The boy’s fearless challenge had only stoked their excitement further. They had sensed in him a rare opponent worth sinking their fangs into. But the girl’s interference had spoiled their fun.

“Disciple Daemon.” Elder Cuifen descended, her voice firm, her green eyes locked on him. “This is your final warning. Do not cause trouble again, and never remove your Sect Attire inside the Mountain.”

Her gaze lingered on him a moment longer before sweeping across the rest of the gathered Outer Disciples.

“Head to the Assembly Arena.”

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