Five Pillars

Like every morning the sun cast a golden hue over the sect grounds as Zhuan Ming made his way to Li Qingyue's residence. He carried with him a neatly written list of artifacts, each one carefully chosen to aid her cultivation without tipping the balance of power too far in her favor. When he arrived, he found her outside training.

"Good morning," he called out, his voice calm but carrying a hint of warmth.

Li Qingyue turned, her frost-like eyes lighting up at the sight of him. "Good morning," she replied, a faint smile playing on her lips. "What brings you here so early?"

Zhuan Ming held up the list. "I've compiled a list of artifacts you'll need to start merging with to increase your rule path marks. Also these will help stabilize your spiritual energy and improve your focus during cultivation."

She took the list, her eyes scanning the items: Ruleweave Amulet, Rulebound Circlet, and Ethereal Chain. "Thank you," she said, her tone appreciative.

"Don't mention it," he replied, his expression neutral but his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. "Just make sure to acquire them as soon as possible. Your progress depends on it."

Li Qingyue nodded, tucking the list into her robe. "I'll head to the market later today. Will you come with me?"

Zhuan Ming shook his head. "I have combat class this morning, and some… other matters to attend to later. But I trust you'll manage on your own."

She looked slightly disappointed but didn't press the issue. "Alright. I'll see you later, then."

Zhuan Ming arrived at the combat training grounds, where a group of disciples was already sparring under the watchful eye of their instructor. The air was filled with the sounds of clashing weapons and the occasional burst of spiritual energy. Zhuan Ming joined the group of disciples gathered at the combat training grounds, he made his way to the registration table, where a senior disciple handed him a small wooden token with a number carved into it. He glanced at it—12—before tucking it into his robe and stepping aside to wait for his turn.

The sparring matches were already underway, each pair of disciples clashing with a mix of skill and raw power. Zhuan Ming observed them with a detached interest, his mind only half on the spectacle. The rest of his thoughts were occupied by the upcoming exploration of the Beast Mountain Range and the list of artifacts he'd given to Li Qingyue. Still, he knew better than to let his guard down. Combat class was as much about strategy and observation as it was about physical prowess. Since the aim was not to kill but instead grow in skill and strength.

When his number was finally called, Zhuan Ming stepped into the sparring ring, his movements calm and deliberate. His opponent was a tall, broad-shouldered disciple named Kang Wei, known for his brute strength and relentless fighting style. Kang Wei grinned as he stepped forward, cracking his knuckles.

"Ready to lose, Ming?" Kang Wei taunted, his voice loud enough to draw the attention of the surrounding disciples.

Zhuan Ming didn't respond, his expression unreadable. He simply took his stance, his body relaxed but poised for action. The instructor signaled the start of the match, and Kang Wei charged forward with a roar, his fist aimed squarely at Zhuan Ming's chest.

Zhuan Ming sidestepped the attack with ease, his movements fluid and precise. He countered with a swift strike to Kang Wei's side, the force of the blow causing the larger disciple to stagger. The crowd of onlookers murmured in approval, but Zhuan Ming paid them no mind. His focus was entirely on the fight.

Kang Wei recovered quickly, his frustration evident as he launched a series of powerful strikes. Zhuan Ming dodged and sometimes parried, his movements almost effortless. He was toying with Kang Wei, testing his opponent's limits while conserving his own energy.

But then, as Zhuan Ming prepared to deliver a decisive blow, a sharp pain shot through his head. It was sudden and intense, like a dagger driving into his skull. His vision blurred, and for a moment, he felt dizzy, his balance faltering. Kang Wei seized the opportunity, landing a solid punch to Zhuan Ming's shoulder that sent him stumbling back.

The crowd gasped, their cheers turning to murmurs of concern. Zhuan Ming clenched his teeth, forcing himself to focus through the pain. He took a deep breath, steadying himself as the dizziness began to fade. His vision cleared, and he locked eyes with Kang Wei, who was now looking at him with a mix of confusion and concern.

"You alright, Ming?" Kang Wei asked, lowering his fists.

Zhuan Ming straightened, his expression calm despite the lingering ache in his head. "I'm fine," he said, his voice steady. "Just a momentary lapse. Let's finish this."

Kang Wei hesitated for a moment but then nodded, raising his fists again. The two resumed their sparring, though Zhuan Ming's movements were now more cautious, his earlier precision slightly dulled by the lingering effects of the headache. They continued to spar until the instructor stepped forward, declaring that the sparing is over.

Zhuan Ming stepped out of the ring, his mind already shifting back to the pain he'd felt. It wasn't the first time he'd experienced such a headache, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. But for now, he pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the tasks ahead.

As he walked away from the training grounds, Kang Wei called out to him. "Hey, Ming! You sure you're okay? You looked like you were about to pass out back there."

Zhuan Ming paused, glancing over his shoulder. "I'm fine," he repeated, his tone firm but not unkind. "Just tired. Don't worry about it."

Kang Wei shrugged, clearly unconvinced but unwilling to press the issue. "Alright, if you say so. Take care of yourself, man."

Zhuan Ming nodded and continued on his way, his thoughts already turning to the night's exploration of the Beast Mountain Range. The headache was a problem, but it was one he would deal with later. For now, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Zhuan Ming made his way to the outskirts of the sect, where the dense forest gave way to the rugged terrain of the Beast Mountain Range. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, and the distant howls of spirit beasts echoed through the night.

He activated one of the death energy talismans, its dark aura spreading around him like a protective shroud. The monsters in the area immediately sensed the presence of death energy and began to retreat, their growls fading into the distance. With the path clear, Zhuan Ming moved deeper into the mountains, his senses alert for any signs of danger.

He wanted to find any clues that could bring him closer to getting the Azura Mist Sect inheritance. But it wasn't as simple as he'd hoped. He had no leads, no maps, no ancient texts to guide him—just the name of the sect and the fact that the inheritance is hidden somewhere in the Beast Mountain Range. If only he could remember who had discovered it in his past life, he might have a starting point. But that knowledge eluded him, lost in the haze of time and rebirth. For now, all he could do was explore and piece together whatever fragments he could find.

Zhuan Ming moved deeper into the mountains, his senses sharp and alert. The terrain grew rougher, the air colder, and the howls of spirit beasts echoed faintly in the distance. He activated another death energy talisman, its dark aura spreading around him like a protective shroud. The monsters in the area immediately sensed the presence of death energy and began to retreat, their growls fading into the distance. With the path clear, he pressed on, his eyes scanning the surroundings for anything out of the ordinary.

The Beast Mountain Range was vast and treacherous, its peaks shrouded in mist and its valleys filled with dense, ancient forests. Zhuan Ming knew that if the Azura Mist Sect's inheritance was hidden here, it would be well-concealed, likely protected by traps, illusions, or powerful spirit beasts. He needed to be methodical, searching for anything that might hint at the sect's presence—carvings, ruins, or even subtle disturbances in the natural flow of spiritual energy.

After hours of searching, he came across a series of weathered stone pillars, their surfaces covered in moss and lichen. At first glance, they seemed like nothing more than natural rock formations, but something about them caught his attention. He brushed away the moss, revealing faint carvings beneath.

The symbols were old and unfamiliar, their shapes intricate and flowing, unlike any script he had encountered before. They seemed to form a pattern, perhaps a map or a diagram, but their meaning was impossible to decipher on the spot. Zhuan Ming traced the carvings with his fingers, his mind racing. If these symbols were connected to the Azura Mist Sect, they could be the key to locating the inheritance. But without more information, they were little more than cryptic markings.

He frowned, stepping back to take in the full scope of the pillars. There were five in total, arranged in a semicircle, each bearing similar carvings. He committed the symbols to memory, sketching them quickly on a piece of parchment he carried with him. Once he was certain he had recorded everything accurately, he folded the parchment and tucked it safely into his robe.

Glancing around to ensure he was alone, he picked up a sharp rock and began methodically scratching away at the carvings. The symbols, once faint but legible, were now reduced to jagged, meaningless lines. He couldn't risk anyone else stumbling upon this place and deciphering the clues before he did. The Azura Mist Sect's inheritance was his to uncover, and he would leave no trace for others to follow.

"The sect library might have something on this," he thought. The library housed countless ancient texts and scrolls, some of which dated back centuries. If anyone had documented the Azura Mist Sect's symbols or language, it would be there. For now, though, he decided to continue exploring the area, hoping to find more clues before heading back.

Zhuan Ming spent the next few hours combing the surrounding area, his senses alert for anything unusual. He found a few more scattered carvings on rocks and trees, but they were even more faded and fragmented than the ones on the pillars.

He finally decided to call it a night. The Beast Mountain Range was vast, and he knew he couldn't uncover its secrets in a single expedition. Besides, the headache he'd experienced earlier still lingered at the edges of his mind, a reminder that he needed to pace himself.

As he made his way back to the sect, the moon hung high in the sky, casting a pale light over the rugged terrain. His thoughts were a mix of anticipation and frustration. The carvings were a promising lead, but they were also a puzzle he couldn't yet solve. He needed more information, and the sect library was his best bet.

When he finally returned to his room, he carefully unfolded the parchment and studied the symbols again. They seemed to hint at something greater, something hidden. But for now, they were just fragments of a larger picture. He set the parchment aside and began to prepare for the next day. Tomorrow, he would visit the library and see if he could uncover the meaning behind the carvings. And if that failed, he would find another way. The Azura Mist Sect's inheritance was out there, and he was determined to claim it.