Chapter 23: The Prestige of the Profound Sky Ranking, the Young Empress Makes the List!

Li Wudao dragged his body, reluctant, to an open field. He flipped his hand, drew the Longyuan Sword, and began to practice his sword techniques.

"Huh, this sword..." Xia Gucheng’s eyes flickered as they landed on the longsword in the youth's hand. With his keen discernment, he saw its extraordinary nature at a glance. It was at least a peak Earth-tier spiritual artifact, perhaps even faintly possessing the sharpness of a Heaven-tier one. He was astonished; such artifacts were precious even within the Xuantian Sect—even inner sect elders might not possess one.

"His technique seems to be an Imperial Sutra, he carries a Pure Yang Saint Body, and now he produces a pseudo-Heaven-tier spiritual artifact. To think all these things come from a youth of an ordinary family..." Xia Gucheng narrowed his eyes, feeling that the boy practicing his sword was like a fog, impossible to fathom.

Meanwhile, Li Wudao began practicing the second stage of the sword technique. Possessing "hundred-fold comprehension," he had already mastered the sword manual by heart; every strike was clean and crisp, without the slightest hesitation. In just a few breaths, the youth had struck a hundred times.

"Clang—"

Because of the extreme speed, sword shadows appeared in the air, blurry and piercingly sharp. Suddenly, the airflow around Li Wudao began to churn, and an invisible, murderous aura permeated the area. Gravel on the ground rose without wind, and the nearby bamboo forest was affected, its leaves rustling violently. Even though the youth was merely practicing his sword work without using a shred of true essence, the area within a fifty-meter radius seemed to suffer invisible damage; every strike released a sharp, vibrating shockwave into the air.

Seeing this, Xia Gucheng was shocked and stood up abruptly. To emit shockwaves while wielding a sword—this had already reached the realm of mastery. And this was the sign of having perfected the third stage of the *Gengjin Sword Canon*! He knew that with his own talent in the sword, it had taken him three months to master the third stage back in the day, a feat that crowned him as a genius among his peers. Yet Li Wudao, in just half a month, had gone from nothing to mastering an Imperial-level sword technique. What heaven-defying talent!

Xia Gucheng took a dazed sip of wine, his emotions difficult to settle. He had just been thinking about offering some guidance to feel like a master, but now it seemed unnecessary. How could he teach him? He couldn't teach him a thing. "Sigh—" Xia Gucheng let out a long, weary breath, feeling utterly defeated. He had taken Li Wudao as his disciple out of mere curiosity, but he hadn't expected the boy to be such a monster. He was truly a natural-born prodigy of the sword!

A quarter of an hour later, Li Wudao approached Xia Gucheng with a cheeky grin and asked, "Master, did I perform well?"

"Cough, cough. It’s passable. Still a bit worse than your master." Xia Gucheng regained his composure, taking an awkward gulp of wine, but in his haste, he choked, his face turning red.

Seeing the old man’s reaction, the corner of Li Wudao’s mouth curled upward. As expected, this old fellow was just like Jiang Churan—a total tsundere. No doubt about it.

"If there’s nothing else, I’ll head back to my room to cultivate." Li Wudao turned to make his escape. He had barely taken a step before Xia Gucheng plucked him back.

"Blindly cultivating in isolation won't do. You aren't to practice today. Go challenge the 'Phantom Demon Tower'; it will help you accumulate combat experience." Even the greatest genius, if only buried in bitter cultivation, would be like a flower in a greenhouse—shattering at the first sign of real combat.

"The Phantom Demon Tower? I’ve heard a little about it." Li Wudao rubbed his chin.

These past few days in the Scripture Pavilion, he had learned about some of the sect's secrets and history. The "Phantom Demon Tower" was a precious treasure refined by the founder of the Xuantian Sect and was one of the sect's vital foundations. The tower contained various arrays capable of projecting demonic beasts up to the sixth-rank Demon Sovereign level to face opponents. It had thirty floors, corresponding to the stages from Body Tempering to the completion of the Martial Sovereign realm. It was said that the projected beasts were incredibly realistic, simulating their aura and providing a combat experience nearly identical to the real thing. Most importantly, if one were critically injured or defeated, they would be automatically teleported out of the tower, with no risk of death.

"Fine, in that case, I shall go challenge it." Li Wudao became interested. Cultivating against the air all day lacked concrete feedback. He was eager to know exactly how strong he was. Without further ado, he greeted Xia Gucheng and turned to leave.

...

An incense stick of time later, Li Wudao appeared before a thirty-one-story tower. The tower was a hundred meters tall, like a small mountain that required the youth to crane his neck to see the top. This was the "Phantom Demon Tower." It had existed since the founding of the sect, standing for over ten thousand years through wind and frost. Its body was mottled, a blue-yellow hue, full of antiquity, yet it stood firm. At a glance, one could see the passage of eons, giving a sense of being separated from the world.

Li Wudao was momentarily mesmerized. To his knowledge, this seemingly ordinary tower was actually an Imperial-tier treasure. Beyond peak Earth-tier spiritual artifacts were "Treasures." The difference was that treasures possessed spirits—they had developed intelligence. Treasures were divided into King, Imperial, and Saint tiers. The gap between each tier was like a chasm, far beyond what any spiritual artifact could compare to.

The Phantom Demon Tower was located in the core area of the sect, standing in the center of a plaza. As a public resource, all disciples could use it. When Li Wudao arrived, he saw several disciples challenging the tower. Most were older disciples, not from his intake. He saw a few from his own batch, but before long, they were teleported out by the tower spirit, looking disheveled and unwilling to accept defeat.

"No way, why is this Phantom Demon Tower so hard? I’m in the late stage of the Body Tempering realm and I can’t even clear the third floor?" A youth in inner sect robes climbed up from the ground, questioning his existence. He was a newcomer this year who had heard of the tower and wanted to try it out.

"Heh, the demonic beasts in this tower crush martial artists of the same realm. Winning isn't that easy," a senior disciple nearby explained with an air of superiority.

Li Wudao did not rush to enter; he decided to observe. Just then, another disciple was teleported out. "Damn it! I was only a little bit away from clearing the fifth floor! My reward is gone again!" The youth, at the peak of the Body Tempering realm, stood up in frustration and sighed at the sky. He had low talent and had been in the sect for two years without ever clearing the fifth floor. Missing it by such a small margin was infuriating.

"There are rewards for clearing the tower?" Li Wudao asked, surprised. What he had read in the books was only a general overview.

"The rules are written on the stele. If you don't know them, read them yourself." The youth was in a foul mood and, not wanting to talk, pointed at a stone stele in front of the tower before walking away in annoyance.

Li Wudao didn't mind and curiously walked toward the stele. Up close, he realized the stele was ten stories tall. On the left side were three rules:
1. All disciples under thirty years old with an identity token may participate.
2. Each challenge requires a fee of fifty low-grade spirit stones.
3. Every five floors cleared, one may go to the Inner Affairs Hall to claim a reward, limited to once per level.

Below that were the rewards:
Fifth floor: One five-grade spirit pill.
Tenth floor: Five hundred low-grade spirit stones.
Fifteenth floor: Earth-tier mid-grade spiritual artifact.
...
The higher the floor, the richer the rewards.

"Fifty low-grade spirit stones per challenge—that's not cheap," Li Wudao mused. An outer sect disciple’s monthly stipend was only ten low-grade spirit stones, and an inner sect disciple only received fifty. One challenge was an entire month’s worth of food and drink for an inner sect disciple. He understood now why there were so few new disciples; they couldn't afford it. At this price, probably only inner sect or core disciples could sustain it. As for outer sect disciples, if their family wasn't wealthy, they would have to save for a long time before daring to try. He suddenly understood why that fellow earlier was so broken up.

Li Wudao shook his head and looked to the right side of the stele. At the top were three large characters: *Xuantian Ranking*. Below was a dense list of names, exactly three thousand of them. These were the disciples who had made the list, from different eras, dating back ten thousand years. Each entry recorded the name, age, realm, floor reached, and time taken.

Li Wudao scanned every name with respect. Three thousand people might seem like a lot, but the prestige of this list was immense. The Xuantian Sect had existed for over ten thousand years. Disciples had come and gone like fish in a river; every name on this list was a brilliant talent.

Suddenly, Li Wudao’s eyes stopped, and he frowned. He noticed that after the five-thousand-year mark, the ranking list saw a historical dip; the number of disciples making the list was less than half of the previous era. In the subsequent three thousand years, it thinned even more. In the last millennium, fewer than ten people had made the list. In the last hundred years, only two people had appeared: the Sect Master, Murong Yan, at age twenty-nine, ranked 2,333rd; and the Young Sect Master, Wu Shaotian, at age twenty-five, ranked 1,800th. Compared to Murong Yan, Wu Shaotian’s performance was indeed better. And he was still young—he had time to challenge the tower again before thirty, and his ranking would surely climb. In this light, his appointment as Young Sect Master was well-founded.

Li Wudao pondered, his gaze continuing to scan. "Hmm?" Suddenly, near the top of the stele, he saw a familiar name: Jiang Churan.
Age: 15.
Realm: Blood-Moving Realm (Peak).
Floor: 13.
Time: 130 breaths.
Rank: 999th.