Ascendancy and Old Enemies

Chapter 31: Ascendancy and Old Enemies

The Sunken Crimson Ore felt dense and potent in Sanjeev's hand, a tangible promise of future power. The lingering effects of the Vajra Body Refinement thrummed beneath his skin, a deep, resonant strength that made the aches and pains of his ordeal fade into insignificance. He stood at the bottom of the immense canyon, the dark mouth of the lava cave behind him, the towering, sheer cliffs mocking him with their impossible height. The climb out looked daunting, a vertical expanse of rock that would have seemed utterly insurmountable just hours before.

But doubt was a foreign concept now, overshadowed by the raw physical power flooding his limbs. He secured the Crimson Ore carefully within his spatial storage, took a deep breath of the cool canyon air, and approached the cliff face. Finding handholds and footholds that seemed barely adequate, he began to climb.

It was arduous, demanding intense focus and physical exertion, yet it felt… different. Where before, such a climb would have left his muscles screaming and his breath ragged within minutes, now there was a reserve of stamina, a fundamental toughness in his flesh and bone that made the ascent manageable, almost exhilarating. His fingers, strengthened by the first level refinement, gripped the rock like talons; his legs propelled him upwards with steady, untiring power. He moved with a speed and surety that would have been unthinkable previously. The world fell away below him – the roaring river shrinking to a silver ribbon, the cave entrance becoming a dark speck. Hours passed under the narrow strip of sky visible from the canyon depths. He climbed relentlessly, driven by the image of his friends waiting above, by the worry gnawing at him about Xiner.

Finally, as the sun began its descent, painting the sliver of sky visible above in hues of orange and purple, his hand grasped the lip of the canyon edge. With a final surge of effort, he hauled himself over the top, rolling onto the rocky, wind-swept ground where the initial battle had taken place.

The first thing he saw was the small, makeshift camp his friends had erected. A fire crackled weakly, struggling against the mountain wind. Arav sat near it, his head in his hands, the picture of dejection. Xuner stood a little apart, staring out over the vast mountain range, her expression as unreadable as ever, though a certain tension radiated from her stance. And then he saw her – Xiner, lying wrapped in blankets near the fire, unnaturally still, her face pale even in the flickering firelight.

"Arav! Xuner!" Sanjeev called out, his voice rough from disuse and the climb.

Both heads snapped towards him. Arav leaped to his feet, his eyes widening first in disbelief, then in overwhelming relief. "Sanjeev! By the heavens, you're alive!" He rushed forward, almost stumbling in his eagerness.

Xuner turned, her usual stoicism momentarily cracking as visible relief washed over her features before she smoothed them back into neutrality. A faint nod acknowledged his presence.

"We thought... the fall..." Arav stammered, clapping Sanjeev hard on the shoulder, then pulling him into a rough embrace. "We feared the worst! How did you survive?"

"Luck," Sanjeev said, extricating himself gently, his gaze fixed on Xiner. "The river broke my fall. But what happened to her?" He moved quickly to Xiner's side, kneeling beside her still form. Her breathing was shallow, her spiritual energy sluggish and faint.

Arav's expression turned grim. "She saw you go over the edge, Sanjeev. The shock… it was too much for her spirit. She just collapsed. We tried waking her, channeling energy, but she remains unresponsive. It's like her soul itself recoiled from the trauma."

Sanjeev gently touched Xiner's forehead. It was cool to the touch. He frowned, concentrating, extending his senses. Arav was right; her physical body was unharmed, but her spiritual consciousness, her soul, seemed to have withdrawn deep within itself, locked away by the shock and grief. Ordinary methods wouldn't reach her.

He stood up decisively. "I can help her."

Arav looked hopeful, but confused. "How? We have no high-level spirit herbs, no alchemist..."

Sanjeev didn't answer immediately. He accessed his spatial storage, his mind racing through the vast pharmacopoeia inherited from his transmigration and the knowledge gleaned from ancient scrolls. He needed something potent, something that could directly nourish and soothe a shocked soul. He selected several ethereal-looking herbs – Moonpetal Dewdrops, Spiritmend Root, Soulcomfort Blossom – materials that radiated gentle, calming energy.

Then, to the utter astonishment of Arav and Xuner, Sanjeev didn't reach for a furnace or crucible. He simply held the herbs aloft in his open palm. Concentrating intensely, he channeled his spiritual energy, manipulating it with exquisite control. The air around the herbs began to shimmer and warp. Wisps of pure energy, drawn from his core, enveloped the ingredients.

"What... what is he doing?" Arav breathed, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Xuner watched, captivated, her usual impassivity forgotten. "Airborne refinement? Without a furnace catalyst? Is that even possible?"

It was a technique demanding incredible spiritual control and a deep understanding of alchemical principles – manipulating raw energy to replicate the intense heat and catalytic processes of a furnace, isolating essences, and merging them in the volatile medium of open air. Sanjeev focused, his brow furrowed in concentration. The herbs began to glow, dissolving into shimmering liquids and powders, swirling together in a complex, miniature vortex of energy held suspended above his palm. Impurities were incinerated by controlled bursts of spiritual fire, leaving behind only the purest essences. The air filled with a faint, calming fragrance. Slowly, the swirling lights coalesced, condensing into a single, small pill, pulsating with a soft, silvery luminescence. It radiated an aura of profound peace and gentle spiritual power.

With a final pulse of energy, the process completed. A perfect, translucent pill, humming with power, dropped gently into Sanjeev's waiting palm. It was a Third Level Soul Nourishing Pill – a concoction specifically designed to heal spiritual trauma and replenish soul energy, far beyond what ordinary outer sect disciples should even know about, let alone refine under such impossible conditions.

Arav and Xuner stared, speechless. They had witnessed countless alchemists ply their trade, always reliant on specialized furnaces, intricate tools, and controlled environments. To see someone refine a pill – and a clearly high-level one at that – literally out of thin air, using only raw spiritual energy, was world-shattering. It spoke of a level of control and alchemical mastery that belonged to legendary figures, not a fellow outer sect disciple. Sanjeev's secrets, they realized, ran far deeper than they had ever imagined.

Sanjeev ignored their stunned silence, his focus entirely on Xiner. He gently opened her mouth and placed the silvery pill on her tongue. He then placed his palm lightly on her forehead, channeling a soft stream of his own spiritual energy, imbued with the Agni Flame's warmth, to help her absorb the pill's potent essence.

Almost immediately, a faint warmth returned to Xiner's skin. Her breathing deepened, becoming steadier. The sluggishness in her spiritual energy began to dissipate, replaced by a gentle, flowing vitality as the pill's power permeated her soul, soothing the shock, coaxing her consciousness back from the depths. Her eyelids fluttered.

Slowly, groggily, Xiner's eyes opened. They were unfocused at first, clouded with confusion and lingering shadows of despair. Then, her gaze landed on the face leaning over her, illuminated by the firelight – Sanjeev's face, filled with concern.

Recognition dawned. Disbelief warred with hope. "Sanjeev...?" she whispered, her voice barely audible, raspy. Tears welled up, blurring her vision. "You... you're alive? It wasn't... a nightmare?"

"I'm alive, Xiner," Sanjeev said softly, his voice gentle. "I'm here."

The confirmation broke the dam. With a choked sob, Xiner threw her arms around his neck, clinging to him with desperate strength, burying her face in his shoulder. Tears flowed freely, soaking his already damp clothes – tears of relief, of released terror, of overwhelming joy. "I saw you fall! I thought... I thought you were gone forever!" she cried, her body trembling.

Sanjeev held her tightly, patting her back soothingly, letting her cry it all out. A wave of warmth spread through him, a deep affection for this fierce, loyal girl who had clearly suffered immensely believing him dead. Arav looked on, a wide, emotional grin splitting his face, while even Xuner allowed a small, genuine smile to touch her lips. The tension that had gripped the small group finally broke, replaced by the profound relief of reunion, a poignant, funny, and deeply emotional moment silhouetted against the vast, indifferent mountains.

They rested for the remainder of the night, huddled around the replenished fire. Sanjeev recounted a heavily edited version of his survival – emphasizing the luck of the river and omitting the dragon, the soul, the lava refinement, and the Crimson Ore. He claimed exhaustion and the need to rest in the cave prevented an earlier return. While Arav and Xuner sensed vast omissions, they didn't press, respecting his privacy and simply grateful for his survival. Xiner, nestled securely beside Sanjeev, finally drifted into a peaceful, healing sleep, her hand tightly gripping his, unwilling to let go even in slumber.

The next morning, renewed and reunited, they began the arduous journey back towards the Lotus Blade Sect. The trek took five full days, traversing rugged mountain passes, dense forests, and rolling foothills. The shared ordeal had forged a deeper bond between them. Conversations flowed more easily, interspersed with comfortable silences. Sanjeev felt the difference his refined body made; the long days of travel were far less taxing than they would have been before. He spent portions of the journey meditating, consolidating his recent gains and contemplating the strange path his life had taken.

Finally, the familiar, imposing sight of the Lotus Blade Sect came into view, nestled within its protective valley, vast and sprawling. Passing through the bustling outer gates, they made their way directly towards the Contribution Hall, the place where sect missions were assigned and rewards were claimed. They carried with them the fruits of their perilous mission – the storage bags heavy with monster cores, including the core from the Rank 7 beast Arav and Xuner had managed to secure after Sanjeev's fall.

The Contribution Hall was a grand, busy building, filled with disciples coming and going. They approached a counter manned by a stern-looking elder with a long grey beard. "Mission completion," Arav announced, stepping forward and placing their mission token on the counter.

The elder glanced at the token, then at the four disciples, his expression impassive. "Outer Sect disciples, mission 34B, hunting in the Thunder Peaks. Report?"

Arav nodded towards the bags. "Mission completed, Elder. We have procured the required cores, and more." He respectfully emptied the bags onto the wide counter. A cascade of monster cores spilled out – cores from Rank 4, 5, and 6 beasts, glowing with varying degrees of spiritual energy. And amongst them, significantly larger and radiating a much more potent aura, was the core of the Rank 7 monster. In total, well over five hundred cores lay gleaming on the counter.

The elder's impassive expression finally cracked. His eyes widened, first scanning the sheer quantity, then focusing on the Rank 7 core. He picked it up, examining it closely, sensing the potent energy within. A low whistle escaped his lips. "Five hundred and thirty-two cores... including a Rank 7 Sky-Rending Vulture core? From outer sect disciples?" He looked up at them, genuine shock replacing his stern demeanor. Missions requiring Rank 7 cores were typically reserved for inner sect disciples or even elder-led teams. To acquire one, alongside such a vast quantity of lesser cores, was extraordinary.

Suddenly, the elder threw back his head and laughed, a hearty, booming sound that echoed in the hall, drawing curious glances. "Haha! Excellent! Truly excellent! This is the kind of ambition and result the sect needs! I haven't seen a haul like this from an outer sect team in decades!" He beamed at them, his earlier sternness completely gone. "The base reward for this mission is substantial, but for exceeding expectations so dramatically... yes, you deserve a significant bonus! Mark my words, you'll all be well compensated!"

Sanjeev, Xiner, Arav, and Xuner exchanged relieved and happy glances. The danger, the fear, the near-death experiences – they had paid off. The elder quickly calculated their contribution points, factoring in the quantity, the ranks, and the generous bonus he had promised. Each of them received a hefty sum deposited onto their sect identification tokens – points that could be exchanged for cultivation resources, techniques, pills, weapons, and access to training facilities within the sect. It was a small fortune for outer disciples, enough to significantly aid their cultivation for months to come.

Thanking the delighted elder, they left the Contribution Hall, feeling a sense of accomplishment and relief. The points were valuable, but the confirmation of their strength and teamwork was equally rewarding. Arav and Xuner went their own ways, likely heading straight for the cultivation chambers or resource pavilions to spend their newfound wealth.

Sanjeev and Xiner walked together through the familiar paths of the outer sect district, the setting sun casting long shadows. "Let's go to your place?" Xiner suggested softly, her earlier trauma replaced by a quiet happiness. Sanjeev nodded, leading the way towards the modest courtyard house allocated to him.

Inside, they sat together, talking quietly. They spoke of the mission, their fears, their relief, and their plans for the future. The conversation flowed easily, a comfortable intimacy settling between them, deepened by the shared danger and reunion. Sanjeev found himself opening up more than usual, though still carefully guarding his biggest secrets. Xiner listened intently, her eyes rarely leaving his face. As dusk turned to night, the air filled with the comfortable silence of shared understanding. The upcoming competition, the gateway to the inner sect, loomed large in their minds, but for now, they cherished the simple peace of survival and companionship. Time slipped away unnoticed until the moon hung high in the sky.

The days leading up to the Inner Sect Promotion Competition passed in a blur of preparation. Disciples across the entire outer sect were training with feverish intensity, sparring, meditating, consuming pills, doing everything possible to gain an edge. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, ambition, and nervous energy. Entry into the inner sect wasn't just a step up; it was a transition to a different world – better resources, more powerful techniques, guidance from stronger elders, and true recognition within the Lotus Blade Sect. For tens of thousands of outer disciples, this competition, held only once every few years, was the single most important event of their lives.

Finally, the day arrived. A vast, specially constructed platform dominated the sect's central plaza. It was an enormous stage, easily hundreds of yards across, made of magically reinforced stone designed to withstand powerful battles. Around it, designated areas were packed with outer sect disciples – a sea of faces, numbering well over ten thousand by Sanjeev's estimate, every single one hoping to be among the handful who would ascend. The air crackled with excitement and tension. Cheers and shouts occasionally erupted from different sections as popular or notorious disciples made their appearance.

Sanjeev stood with Xiner, Arav, and Xuner, observing the scene. Even Arav's usual boisterousness was subdued, replaced by focused determination. Xuner was impassive as always, but her eyes scanned the crowd with sharp intensity. Xiner stood close to Sanjeev, a nervous energy radiating from her, though her gaze held firm resolve.

Suddenly, a hush fell over the massive crowd. All eyes turned towards the main viewing platform overlooking the competition stage. Several figures appeared there – the sect's highest elders, radiating powerful auras. But it was the figure who appeared in the center that commanded absolute reverence.

He looked surprisingly young, perhaps in his late twenties or early thirties, with sharp, handsome features and long black hair tied back simply. He wore unadorned azure robes, yet his presence eclipsed everyone else on the platform. There was an aura about him that was difficult to describe – calm yet infinitely deep, like a tranquil ocean hiding unimaginable power. His eyes seemed to hold the wisdom of ages, observing the vast crowd below with serene detachment. This was the Sect Master of the Lotus Blade Sect.

Despite his youthful appearance, whispers claimed the Sect Master was well over a thousand years old, a legendary figure whose cultivation base was unfathomably deep. Sanjeev felt a jolt as he observed the man. The Sect Master's aura was different from anything he had ever sensed – vast, ancient, and seamlessly integrated with the world around him. It wasn't oppressive like the soul's power or fiery like the dragon's, but something far more profound, almost elemental.

As one, every single person bowed deeply – elders, inner disciples observing from privileged positions, and the tens of thousands of outer disciples on the plaza. "Greetings, Sect Master! Greetings, Elders!" The unified shout echoed across the plaza.

The Sect Master simply raised a hand. Silence fell instantly. His voice, when he spoke, wasn't loud, yet it carried effortlessly to every corner of the vast plaza, clear and resonant. "The path of cultivation is arduous. Resources are limited. Only the strong, the determined, the talented, may advance." His words were simple, direct. "Today, you prove your worth. Show us your strength, your will. The gates to the inner sect are open to those who prevail. Let the competition begin." He spoke no further, simply resuming his serene observation.

An elder with a powerful voice stepped forward to the edge of the viewing platform. "Disciples!" he boomed. "The rules for the first stage are simple! You have been randomly divided into one hundred groups! Each group will occupy a designated area on the main stage. Within your group, you will fight! There are no rules beyond survival and victory within your designated zone! The last ten disciples standing in each zone will advance to the next stage! Find your assigned group number on your tokens and proceed to the stage!"

A murmur went through the crowd as disciples checked their tokens. Sanjeev glanced at his – Group 1. He looked at his friends. "Group 5," Xiner reported. Arav was also in Group 5. Xuner held up her token – Group 10. They wouldn't be fighting each other in this round, a small relief.

"Good luck," Sanjeev said, nodding to them.

"You too!" Arav grinned, punching Sanjeev lightly on the arm. Xiner gave him a worried but determined look. Xuner offered another curt nod.

The massive crowd surged forward, sorting themselves into their assigned zones marked by glowing runes on the vast platform. Sanjeev found himself in Zone 1, alongside ninety-nine other outer sect disciples. The air here was thick with tension, competitors eyeing each other warily, assessing threats, forming fleeting, untrustworthy alliances.

The elder waited until all zones were occupied. Then, his voice roared across the stage: "Begin!"

Chaos erupted instantly. Battle cries filled the air as ninety disciples in Sanjeev's zone immediately lunged at their nearest neighbours. Spiritual energy flared, techniques were unleashed, weapons flashed. It was a brutal, chaotic free-for-all.

Sanjeev, however, did something unexpected. Instead of engaging, he activated an innate skill, one tied to his unique soul and Agni Flame origin – Size Manipulation. With a mere thought, his body seemed to flicker and then shrink rapidly. Within a second, he was no larger than an ant, hidden amongst the scuff marks and small pebbles on the reinforced stone stage. His presence simply vanished from the perception of the battling disciples, his aura suppressed, his tiny form unnoticed amidst the maelstrom of flaring energy and clashing bodies.

He watched, detached, as the battle raged above him. Disciples fell quickly, blasted off the stage, knocked unconscious, or yielding under overwhelming attacks. Alliances formed and shattered in moments. It was a whirlwind of desperate, ambitious struggle. Sanjeev simply stayed put, conserving his energy, observing. His plan was simple: let the others exhaust themselves eliminating each other. Why waste energy when subtlety could achieve the same result?

The battle raged for perhaps ten minutes. The initial hundred disciples were whittled down rapidly. Soon, only about twenty remained in Zone 1, panting, wounded, eyeing each other warily. Among them was a quiet disciple who had skillfully avoided major confrontations, picking off weakened opponents from the edge of the zone. This disciple, lean and predatory, suddenly seemed to notice something amiss. His sharp eyes scanned the area where Sanjeev had last been seen before shrinking. A flicker of suspicion crossed his face. He crouched slightly, concentrating, extending his spiritual sense.

Then, with a vicious smirk, he flicked his wrist. A thin, almost invisible needle, coated in potent energy, shot through the air, aimed precisely at the spot where the ant-sized Sanjeev was hidden.

Sanjeev felt the prickle of danger, the focused intent. The needle attack, while perhaps not lethal, was aimed with uncanny accuracy. His invisibility trick was up. Annoyed at being forced out of his passive strategy, Sanjeev reacted instantly. There was no point in dodging as an ant; he needed presence. He reversed the technique, pouring spiritual energy into it.

Instead of returning to his normal size, he kept going.

His body exploded outwards, expanding at an exponential rate. One moment, an ant; the next, a towering colossus that dwarfed every other disciple on the stage. He grew until he stood easily fifty feet tall, his head almost reaching the level of the lower viewing platforms, his form radiating immense power and solidity, thanks to his Vajra Body refinement.

The entire plaza fell silent.

The frantic battles in other zones paused. Tens of thousands of eyes swiveled towards Zone 1, staring up in stunned disbelief at the giant figure that had materialized out of nowhere. The lean disciple who had attacked him looked up, his jaw slack, the vicious smirk frozen on his face, replaced by utter shock and dawning terror.

Even on the high platform, the elders leaned forward, their eyes wide. Whispers broke out amongst them. Such a technique... controlling one's physical size to this degree was unheard of, especially for an outer sect disciple. It hinted at an incredibly rare bloodline, a heaven-defying technique, or both.

The Sect Master, who had remained impassive throughout the initial chaos, raised an eyebrow slightly. A flicker of genuine interest entered his ancient eyes as he observed the giant Sanjeev. A tiny, almost imperceptible smile touched the corner of his lips – a mysterious, thoughtful expression that vanished as quickly as it appeared. Sanjeev, focused on the situation below, didn't notice the Sect Master's fleeting reaction.

Towering over the remaining twenty-odd disciples in his zone, Sanjeev looked down at them. His voice, amplified by his size and spiritual energy, boomed across the stage. "Anyone else care to try?"

The remaining disciples stared up at him, utterly intimidated. The sheer pressure radiating from his massive form, combined with the shocking nature of his transformation, broke their fighting spirit. Who could possibly fight that?

Sanjeev didn't wait for an answer. He took one colossal step forward. The stage groaned under his weight. He swept his massive arm in a wide arc, not aiming to injure, but simply to clear the stage. The remaining disciples scrambled, leaped, or were simply bowled over by the sheer force of the air displaced by his hand, tumbling off the designated zone like scattered leaves. Within seconds, the lean disciple who had attacked him was sent flying, landing in a heap far outside the zone boundary.

In less than a minute after revealing his giant form, Zone 1 was empty except for him. Sanjeev stood alone, the sole victor. With a thought, he rapidly shrank back down to his normal size, the transformation smooth and effortless. He dusted off his robes, looking completely unfazed, ignoring the thousands of stunned stares directed his way.

He glanced towards Zone 5. The fighting there was also concluding. He saw Xiner, fierce and determined, deliver a final fiery blow that sent her last opponent off the stage. A few seconds later, Arav overwhelmed his own final adversary with brute force. They, too, were among the final ten survivors of their group. A grin touched Sanjeev's lips. He then looked towards Zone 10 and saw Xuner calmly disable her last opponent with precise, efficient movements, securing her own advancement. All four of them had made it through the chaotic first round.

As the elders supervising the stage confirmed the victors from each zone and declared the end of the first stage, a new figure suddenly descended gracefully from the highest viewing platform, landing lightly beside the elder who had announced the rules.

It was a woman. She appeared middle-aged, though her bearing suggested immense power cultivated over many years. She wore ornate robes signifying high status, and her face, while possessing a certain severe beauty, was etched with lines of authority and arrogance. An almost palpable aura of pressure radiated from her, silencing the nearby disciples.

Sanjeev's blood ran cold. His breath hitched, and an icy wave of fury surged through him, so potent it almost made him tremble. He recognized her instantly. That face, that arrogant tilt of her head, that cold indifference in her eyes – it was burned into his memory. She was the mother of Zhang Wei, the disciple he had crippled in the forest. She was the woman who had ambushed him, intending to kill him in cold blood to avenge her son, only to be thwarted by Elder Mei's timely intervention.

And now, she stood on the main platform, clearly holding a position of immense authority, addressed respectfully by the other elders. A horrifying realization dawned on Sanjeev as he heard the elder beside her address her deferentially: "Chief Elder Rui, the first stage is complete. One thousand disciples remain."

Chief Elder. Not just an elder, but the Chief Elder of the Lotus Blade Sect, second perhaps only to the Sect Master himself in authority. The woman who had tried to murder him held one of the highest positions in the entire sect.

Chief Elder Rui scanned the thousand victorious disciples spread across the stage, her gaze sharp and appraising. For a heart-stopping moment, her eyes swept over Sanjeev's section. But she didn't pause, didn't show any sign of recognition. To her, he was just another face in the crowd, one of the thousand ants who had managed to survive the first culling. She hadn't noticed him.

But Sanjeev had noticed her. The fury warred with a cold dread. His most dangerous enemy wasn't just some rogue elder seeking personal vengeance; she was woven into the very power structure of the sect he was trying to climb. The path ahead had just become infinitely more perilous.