novelapdf Chapter 615: The Cost of the Edge
Chapter 615: The Cost of the Edge
The one hundred and fifty applicants who had successfully passed the final trial were escorted deep into the sprawling, majestic interior of the Heavenly Sword Pavilion. The towering stone corridors were lined with ancient armor and glowing spirit stones, radiating a heavy heritage that had stood for millennia.
Inside the grand assembly hall, the newly admitted disciples naturally began to organize themselves. Each noble family formed its own tight-knit, insular group, whispering in hushed tones as they maintained a unified, elitist front against any outsiders.
There were only four absolute exceptions to this rule.
Ethan, Roy, Justus, and Lesly stood perfectly straight, their postures proud and unyielding as they deliberately isolated themselves from the corrupt elite. However, even among the commoners, a clear boundary existed. Justus and Lesly stood tightly together, forming their own independent duo, their eyes scanning the luxurious surroundings with cautious, battle-ready expressions.
Meanwhile, Ethan and Roy remained completely detached, two lone wolves standing side by side, radiating a dense, quiet dominance that ensured none of the surrounding noble factions dared to step within ten paces of their perimeter.
"How is your stomach holding up?" said Ethan. He glanced sideways at Roy, his deep voice low enough to avoid the prying ears of the surrounding noble factions.
"I am fine," said Roy. He adjusted the heavy linen wraps around his shoulder with a calm, stoic expression. "The old man’s cut stung like hell, but it wasn’t enough to incapacitate me."
"You did well," said Ethan. A small, approving smirk played on his lips. "You proved your steel when it mattered most."
A few paces away, the direct grandson of the legendary Sword Saint stood surrounded by his family’s private retainers, his torso and left arm completely covered in thick, medicine-soaked bandages.
Although he and Roy had traded devastating blows during their hidden confrontation, the noble youth had nearly lost his entire limb. The bone itself was severely fractured and splintered, requiring an advanced, high-tier core-region potion that wasn’t readily available at the frontier outpost. Even now, the young master’s face was deathly pale, his jaw clenched tight as intense, throbbing pain radiated down his arm.
"You survived, and you broke his pride," said Ethan, looking back at Roy. "That is good work."
"Thank you, Master," said Roy. He let out a low, respectful chuckle, his gaze shifting toward the front of the grand hall where the primary elders were gathering. "But I heard you had a much more entertaining time outside. The disciples are whispering that you completely shattered their precious corrupt system from the inside out."
"They built a very comfortable path for themselves," said Ethan. His piercing amethyst eyes flashed with absolute, dominant amusement. "It would have been rude of me not to use it to hunt them down."
Before Roy could respond, a sudden, heavy silence blanketed the assembly hall. The massive, double-sided obsidian doors at the front of the pavilion slammed open, and a row of high-ranking inner-court elders stepped onto the raised platform, their suffocating spiritual pressure instantly bringing the one hundred and fifty selected disciples to their knees.
The Chief Instructor stepped forward to the center of the raised platform, holding a heavy, golden-bordered scroll containing the official final rankings. He turned his gaze toward the high-ranking inner-court envoys who sat in the grand overhead balconies, their expressions sour and thoroughly displeased.
"Here are the finalized results of the admission selection," said the Chief Instructor. He unrolled the parchment with a deliberate, slow motion, a sharp, deeply sarcastic smirk playing on his lips as he looked directly at the sect headquarters’ representatives. "Do any of the esteemed central envoys have any formal objections to these standings?"
The overhead balconies fell into a tense, suffocating silence. The grand inner-court elders exchanged venomous, furious glances, their faces twisting with absolute irritation. They desperately wanted to strip Ethan of his rank, but with forty-seven unique talisman groups proudly verified on the public ledger and the stone walls of the inner chamber still smoking from his devastating display, there was absolutely nothing they could do. Stripping him of the top spot now would completely expose the pavilion’s fraud to the entire frontier world.
"Very well," said the Chief Instructor, his voice dripping with mock politeness when none of the envoys dared to speak up. He turned his attention back to the one hundred and fifty applicants below. "Congratulations to all of you for passing the three trials. And a special commendation to the two wildcards of this year’s batch."
The Chief Instructor looked directly at Roy, and then shifted his gaze to the heavily bandaged grandson of the Sword Saint.
"To clear up any confusion among the ranks," said the Chief Instructor. "These two were granted immediate, direct entry into the pavilion regardless of their performance in the open arena. In our sect, anyone who manages to successfully manifest and control true Sword Intent before even entering our gates is automatically afforded the status of a direct disciple. Their talent is a rare treasure that transcends standard testing."
The surrounding noble heirs murmured in sudden understanding, their envious glares softening slightly as they realized the terrifying hidden power Roy possessed.
"As for the rest of you, the three trials you just endured were not designed at random," said the Chief Instructor, his tone turning strict and authoritative. "The initial battle royale was a test of your survival instincts and spatial awareness under chaotic, life-or-death pressure. The Crag of Wolves was a test of your tactical endurance, weight management, and ability to navigate hostile, shifting terrain. And finally, the Pavilion of the Nine Swords was a test of your raw, innate comprehension—to see if your mind possesses the depth required to absorb our ancestors’ ancient legacies."
"These are the three foundational pillars of a true cultivator," said the Chief Instructor, his sharp eyes scanning the room, lingering for a fraction of a second on Ethan’s completely unbothered, dominant figure. "You have proven you have the basic bones to join the Heavenly Sword Pavilion. But do not grow arrogant, little pests. The true meat grinder begins tomorrow inside the inner sect."
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From this moment forward, to avoid confusion regarding cultivation ranks, I will include this footer with the current established levels.
Note: These are only the ranks mentioned so far to avoid spoilers.
Body Refinement Realm
Skin Refinement / Bone Refinement / Organ Refinement
Spiritual Gathering Realm
Spiritual Perception / Spiritual Mist / Spiritual Condensation
Spiritual Core Realm
Core Solidification / Core Awakening / Spiritual Collapse (Half-step Spiritual Core)
Spiritual Soul Realm
Spiritual Soul Awakening / Soul Nourishing / Soul-Core Fusion
Golden Core Realm
Prime Fusion / Core Perfection / Core Destruction
Spiritual Sea Realm
Stage 1 ?? / Stage 2 ?? / Stage 3 ??
Dao Manifestation Realm
Stage 1 ?? / Stage 2 ?? / Stage 3 ??
Spiritual Transcendence
Stage 1 ?? / Stage 2 ?? / Stage 3 ??