Chapter Twelve: The Cliff of Divided Treasures

On the second day, a woman arrived—a senior from the Crossing Truth Hall named Yan Qingshu. After a brief introduction, she led the group behind the Verdant Terrace.

Every disciple of the Dao Sect knew that the master of the Crossing Truth Hall was a woman of profound cultivation, and most of the hall's cultivators were women as well. Ten years ago, the female sword immortal who had shocked the entire Dao Sect by choosing the sword over the Dao was said to be the hall master's personal disciple.

At first, the disciples were disappointed that it wasn't Master Dao Xuan who had come. However, as they sensed the mounting aura of spiritual treasures, many began to suspect their destination, and excitement quickly replaced their disappointment.

Shen Yu walked at the rear of the group, his calm expression tinged with a hint of expectation.

After several hours, they finally arrived at the foot of a towering mountain, renowned throughout the Spiritual Wilderness, its peak lost in a sea of clouds. This mountain was famous for the Cliff of Distributed Treasures, yet the world seemed to have forgotten to give the mountain itself a name.

Sometimes, the breeze would part the white sea of clouds, revealing countless spiritual treasures drifting in midair, radiating dazzling light.

The crowd’s breaths grew rapid, their hearts beating faster—not from exhaustion, but from the overwhelming pressure of the spiritual treasures cascading down from the mountain like a tangible force.

“A month from now, you will be allowed to ascend this peak. By then, all restrictions on the mountain will be lifted,” Yan Qingshu said coolly. “You have just entered the Initiation Realm; your Dao hearts are at their clearest and you have the best chance of earning the recognition of a spiritual treasure. But you have only one chance.”

She glanced over the group and continued, “Therefore, you must quickly adapt to the pressure from these treasures at the foot of the mountain. Only then will you be able to withstand it and have a chance to reach the summit and find a treasure suited to you a month from now.”

Many disciples couldn’t help but look up toward the peak. If the pressure at the base was already so terrifying, what would it be like at the summit?

Yan Qingshu saw through their thoughts at a glance. “Besides formidable restrictions, the mountain is filled with perilous places created by the clashing auras of countless spiritual treasures. If your mind is unstable or your constitution is weak, you might not even reach halfway before being overwhelmed and killed by these auras.”

At these words, most disciples gave up on the idea of rushing to the top and began trying to adapt to the oppressive force around them. Only a few exceptionally talented disciples remained unperturbed.

Since the recent competition between the two peaks, Jiang Shaoqiu had shed his former arrogance and become much steadier in temperament. Ye Zhiqiu was still as proud as ever. Shang Yingluo was the most lively, hopping about without the slightest concern for the oppressive atmosphere.

Yan Qingshu surveyed their expressions, a meaningful smile flickering across her otherwise emotionless face. “Of course, if you have confidence in yourself, you may advance a little further here.”

The group was clever and soon understood her implication. To take a step forward was to gain many other advantages. But who would take that first step?

Footsteps echoed. With a calm expression, Shen Yu walked forward up the mountain.

All eyes once again focused on the handsome youth. Since the conversation he’d had with Master Dao Xuan the previous day, the disciples’ perception of Shen Yu had changed considerably, even the usually aloof Ye Zhiqiu now subdued in his presence.

As he passed Yan Qingshu, Shen Yu said calmly, “Let me try.”

She nodded slightly. “The dangers here—”

“I know them already,” he interrupted and moved ahead.

Immediately, Shang Yingluo followed as the second, then Ye Zhiqiu, Liang Shi, Jiang Shaoqiu, and others. The hesitation of the remaining disciples faded, their eyes grew determined, and they all pressed forward.

Yan Qingshu looked at the figure leading the way, a subtle smile breaking her serene demeanor. “Interesting.”

At the foot of the mountain, many of the less advanced disciples managed only a few steps before sitting cross-legged in meditation, nearly crushed by the increasing pressure. Those of higher cultivation inched along a moss-covered stone stairway, step by step.

Soon, more sat down, unable to continue. At fifty steps, Jiang Shaoqiu stopped. At one hundred, only three remained: Ye Zhiqiu, gasping for breath, struggled to keep up with the calm youth ahead of him, gritting his teeth to press on.

At one hundred and fifty steps, Ye Zhiqiu’s face was ashen, the urge to give up rising in his heart. Just then, Shen Yu glanced back at him, seemingly by chance. That look made Ye Zhiqiu’s expression change; he forced himself to his feet and continued.

Finally, at two hundred steps, Ye Zhiqiu collapsed, unable to go further.

Now, only two were left.

Shang Yingluo followed behind the youth. Her talent was great, and she could still hold on. Seeing Shen Yu turn, she asked curiously, “You seem to care a lot about Ye Zhiqiu?”

“Among this generation, apart from you, he has the greatest talent,” Shen Yu replied, hands clasped behind his back. “He’s proud, much as I once was. Giving him a goal might awaken his potential.”

Shang Yingluo nodded. “You’re a good person.”

Shen Yu shook his head. “I just hope they can move a little faster.”

The young girl asked, “Then why don’t you tell him directly?”

Shen Yu gazed at the mist-shrouded summit. “Too much trouble.”

No one knew how far they had come from the foot of the mountain, but soon enough the girl could go no further. Shen Yu patted her head and told her to wait, then continued alone toward the peak.

Compared to the Heart-Questioning Path behind Yanfa Hall, the aura of spiritual treasures here was even fiercer and sharper. From nearby came the constant sound of powerful explosions.

After half an hour, Shen Yu finally stopped, looking up in silence toward the summit. Though his body was that of a legendary Innate Dao Vessel, his realm was still too low. Even if he could ignore the oppressive aura of the treasures, ahead of him lay countless formidable restrictions and hidden, deadly spiritual energies he could not possibly overcome.

He was still only in the Initiation Realm.

Along the way, his mind wandered, but he didn’t sense even the faintest trace of the immortal artifact Tianxuan, which had accompanied him for a thousand years. Shen Yu sighed inwardly—perhaps only when the restrictions were lifted in a month’s time would he have a chance.

As the youth mused, a sharp whistle suddenly pierced the air.

From the swirling clouds emerged a crystalline longsword, gleaming like autumn water. It circled Shen Yu, the powerful currents whipping his tightly bound black hair loose.

Shen Yu remained calm, completely unbothered.

“Return.”

A clear, ethereal voice rang out from the forest. The jade sword seemed to understand and instantly flew back into the woods.

Within the sea of trees stood a woman in red. Her hair fell to her waist, her eyes held the brilliance of countless stars, and though she was clearly still young, she possessed a beauty that could topple kingdoms.

The woman in red held the longsword in her hand and said, “My apologies.”

Shen Yu did not reply, his gaze fixed on the sword itself.

It was a remarkable blade. Upon it, a tiny girl no bigger than a finger leapt and rolled about, as lively as a mountain sprite.

“It is said that a swordsman’s blade may one day give birth to a sword spirit. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen such a spirited newborn sword spirit.”

He looked at the woman and said calmly, “And an Innate Dao Vessel as well. Impressive.”