The Undying Immortal System

Chapter 448 – Life 117, Age 17, Martial Master Peak

As our first year as an Eight-Star Sect was swiftly drawing to a close, I forged the last of my meridians, joining YuLong and Meng LuYao as a Peak Master. This rapid advancement, combined with the poor combination of cultivation techniques I was using, meant that whenever I opened my acupoints, I was assaulted by a flood of unwelcome mental impulses. As a Martial Master, these impulses were still well within my control, but I would need to resolve this issue before advancing to Grandmaster.

Kan and JiuLi had fallen a bit behind, only reaching Martial Master 4 and 5, respectively. They both possessed high levels of talent, but they were having trouble converting this talent into affinities. Countless hours in our villa’s gardens had only given JiuLi a mid nine-star wood affinity, and Kan hadn’t taken even the first step toward developing his lightning affinity. Regular sparring sessions had allowed both of them to develop eight-star guandao affinities, but with their dual-element cultivation techniques, this simply wasn’t enough.

The only reason these two had even been able to advance as far as they had was their generic qi affinities. Unfortunately, though, this ‘lesser’ affinity took far longer to develop than elemental or weapon affinities, and neither had progressed beyond peak nine-star. If not for the knowledge contained in the legacy orbs they had absorbed, Kan and JiuLi would both no doubt still be stuck in the early levels of the Master realm.

To be fair, advancing to Martial Master 4 in less than three years was a feat that would have made nearly anyone else on the continent ecstatic. It was only my increasingly warped sense of what was ‘normal’ that made this feel somewhat slow.

As for the newer members of our sect, they were doing even worse. Not having received any advanced knowledge from a memory orb, only a handful had progressed beyond cultivating the simplest of Yellow-Rank techniques. Those who had were the ones who had either started with high affinities or the ones who had been blessed with extremely high talents in the guandao.

Again, to be fair, learning to cultivate without high affinities or memory orbs was painfully slow. I was confident that, given enough time, all of our recruits would be able to develop their affinities and grow into powerful experts. We just had to make sure they survived long enough to reach that point.

After nearly a year of development, our sect had become well-known for selling high-quality pills, herbs, and clothing. As everything we produced was simple Rank 1 and 2 equipment, this fame didn’t extend beyond the walls of the Broken Spear Outpost, but even so, our small Bureau-Approved shop was bringing in hundreds of contribution points every week.

Sadly, most of those points vanished just as quickly as they appeared, consumed by both rent and our sect’s constant demand for resources.

This put us in a rather precarious position. At the start of the new year, we would be forced out of our current villa, and we didn’t have anywhere near the contribution points needed to purchase one of our own—not in the outpost, at least. There were a few places that we considered renting, but the prices were exorbitant, and none were large enough for our needs.

So, after a long discussion, Meng LuYao and I began looking farther afield.

As a First-Class Sect, we had to use contribution points if we wanted to purchase a villa in or around the Broken Spear Outpost. Elsewhere, however, we could purchase land with gold. There were even options that wouldn’t cost us anything at all.

Living away from the outpost would come with challenges, though. Without the Sect Affairs Bureau nearby, missions would be harder to both accept and complete. There would also be fewer Bureau-Approved shops around, forcing us to be more self-reliant. And, perhaps most importantly, we would have to close down our own shop until we earned approval to reopen it near our new base. Even then, we would likely see far fewer customers, and those we did get likely wouldn’t want to use contribution points when purchasing items.

Thankfully, we had at least managed to save up enough contribution points to purchase a strand of the Crescent Edge Fire, a Yellow-Rank guandao-based spirit fire, ensuring that this move wouldn’t disrupt anyone’s training. Once we were outside of the outpost, though, even a hint of this spirit fire’s existence would be enough to draw a relentless stream of bandits eager to claim it as their own.

Therefore, we needed to find a place located within easy reach of the nearest Bureau, but far enough from the outpost to be affordable. It needed to have enough open land for our herbalists to cultivate fields of Rank 1 and 2 herbs, but it needed to be defensible enough that we wouldn’t be overrun by gangs of roving bandits.

Ultimately, I still had my eye set on the Spirit Mountain under the control of the infamous Blackblade Hall, but that would need to wait until we could contend with the Hall’s Grandmasters. For the moment, we had to settle for a somewhat softer target.

Thus, Meng LuYao and I finally settled on attempting to conquer the territory of the Silent Saber Sect, an Eight-Star force that owed fealty to Blackblade Hall. Their lands had everything our sect needed, and by conquering them, we would get it all for free. The only problem was the sect’s overlord.

So, after discussing this choice with YuLong and the others, we sent Kan to the Bureau to formally request permission to wage a war of conquest against the Silent Saber Sect. As an unlanded Eight-Star Sect, we had the right to declare such a war. However, the Bureau’s rules stipulated that we weren’t allowed to begin our assault until one month after the new year, giving the members of the Silent Saber Sect ample time to return from Heaven’s Ascension Tournament and prepare.

Could we have just ignored these formalities and launched a surprise attack? Yes, but doing so would have left us open to reprisal from Blackblade Hall’s Grandmasters. By declaring this war through official channels, we placed ourselves squarely under the protections afforded to First-Class Sects. The Hall would be allowed to retaliate, but not with anyone above the level of Martial Master.

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The instant the Bureau’s approval came through, Kan rushed back to our villa, and we immediately convened a meeting of the entire sect to make ready for the forthcoming campaign.

The Silent Saber Sect was more than 150 kilometers to the north of the Broken Spear Outpost, putting the nearest branch of the Sect Affairs Bureau in Whistling Arrow City, the capital of the Iron Bow Kingdom. The sect itself occupied a small mountain range a couple of dozen kilometers east of this city, with a boggy expanse of wetlands to its north and a dense forest to its south.

As we approached this mountain range, I made sure to reiterate that our goal wasn’t to annihilate the Silent Saber Sect in its entirety. All we needed was control of their primary mountain. Once we had that, the outlying villages and hamlets would be free to bend the knee or seek out another patron as they so chose.

We didn’t even need to eliminate all of the sect’s cultivators. We would strike from the south, and if the Silent Saber’s Disciples chose to flee into the northern bog, then so be it. While they scattered, we would focus on building defenses capable of dealing with anyone foolish enough to come back and seek revenge.

After setting up a series of fallback points, YuLong ordered the Suba cousins up the mountain to begin scouting.

Suba KangRong’s enhanced perception was sharp enough to spot sentries before they even had a chance to notice him, allowing him to avoid all of the sect’s patrols as he led his cousin on a weaving path up the forested southern slopes. When the two of them finally reached the edge of the sect’s Mountain-Protecting Formation, Suba HaoRong stepped forward and activated his blessing.

HaoRong’s sentinel couldn’t move or fight, but it could be created deep within an established defensive barrier without triggering any alarms. And, using his link with this sentinel, HaoRong was able to gather a great deal of information we otherwise wouldn’t have had access to.

According to his observations, there were roughly two dozen Martial Masters and nearly a hundred Martial Disciples stationed on the mountain. In terms of sheer numbers, they outmatched us several times over. However, the sect’s most promising Disciples had long since been shipped off to Blackblade Hall. What remained were nothing but the dregs that the Hall had left behind.

Fighting so many opponents at once would still be a challenge, but it was a challenge that was well within our ability to overcome.

Once we had a clear picture of our opponent’s strength, I had Suba KangRong guide me up the mountain, where I spent nearly an hour studying the structure of the sect’s defensive formation. To be honest, I was somewhat impressed. While not a match for a Grandmaster, the Silent Saber Sect had invested in a formation that was more than capable of defending against nearly any Martial Master—nearly any.

With the Suba cousins providing lookout, I walked the southern perimeter of the formation, moving slowly along the mountainside as I mapped out its nodes and stress points. Then, once I was confident in my assessment of the formation’s flaws, I laid down nine formation plates in carefully chosen locations.

Once everything was ready, I sent a signal to YuLong, then poured my qi into the plate in front of me, creating a small-scale grand formation.

The nine plates of this formation resonated in unison, distorting the flow of qi through the Silent Saber Sect’s barrier and causing every node on the southern face of the mountain to collapse in unison.

Not a moment later, YuLong charged up the slope at the head of an army of two hundred cultivators. Of course, since our sect only had thirty members total, most of this “army” was just an illusion created by Meng LuYao. To the disciples of the Silent Saber Sect, though, it must have appeared as if an overwhelming force was descending upon them.

This mix of cultivators and illusion poured through the gap in the mountain’s defenses, and things turned chaotic.

As Martial Masters, YuLong, Meng LuYao, and I were not permitted to slaughter Disciples. Under the Bureau’s rules, we were only allowed to target our enemy’s Masters. As mere distractions, though, Meng LuYao’s illusions were allowed to sow chaos and terror, making it so that Shi Zhang and the rest of our Disciples could easily hold their own against the far more numerous rank-and-file of the Silent Saber Sect.

Still, Kan and JiuLi remained close at hand, on guard for any wandering Masters who might try to take a shot at one of our Disciples.

The battle quickly devolved into chaos as illusory soldiers clashed with real ones, their blades sparking and ringing even as they passed through empty air. Panicked Disciples lashed out at phantoms, while our real fighters struck from unexpected angles. Within this confusion, YuLong carved a bloody path through the enemy’s leadership, cutting down one Martial Master after another.

Barely ten minutes after the activation of my grand formation, the Silent Saber Sect’s line collapsed as their disciples fled through the compound’s northern gate, surging down into the bog in a panicked wave. Then, realizing that the battle was lost, what remained of the sect’s leadership turned to follow.

We could have pursued, but that would have been reckless. We had no idea what contingencies the Silent Saber Sect might have left behind, and we didn’t want to risk our Disciples being killed by some hidden formation or buried artifact. We had already driven off our enemies and captured their mountain. That was enough.

So, instead, Kan and JiuLi gathered our people inside one of the compound’s inner courtyards while I located the central node of the Mountain-Protecting Formation.

With our enemies routed, I could finally claim direct control over this formation. I would have to repair the damage that I had inflicted and add a few safeguards to prevent anyone from repeating my methods in the future, but these tasks were easy enough to accomplish. Most of the formation’s nodes were still intact, and getting everything up and operational would only take a few hours of work.

In truth, it might have been better to just scrap this formation and start over, but that would have taken time that we didn’t have. Every moment without a functioning barrier increased the chances of a desperate counterstrike.

As I continued my work, I looked around and grimaced. The Mountain-Protecting Formation hadn’t been the only thing damaged by our attack.

Our victory had been swift, but it left nearly every structure on the mountain in ruins. Stray techniques had shattered most of the halls and pavilions, and properly repairing them would be a lengthy undertaking. Still, this destruction was not entirely unwelcome. It would give us the freedom to redesign this mountain to suit the needs and ambitions of our Amorphous Blade Sect.