Chapter 4: Just Take It, You

“My axe!” Meng Jingzhou bellowed within the illusion, desperate to dive in and retrieve it.

The river spirit emerged upon the water’s surface, holding aloft three distinct axes.

“Young child, you—”

Plop—

Before the river spirit could finish, Meng Jingzhou executed a sharp dive, plunging headfirst into the river with a resounding splash, blowing bubbles that billowed larger than the spirit himself.

What was going on?

The river spirit stood dazed; he had never encountered such a situation in all his years.

The gurgling bubbles gradually thinned until they vanished entirely, leaving the river’s surface terrifyingly still, save for the ripples stirred by the spirit's own radiating aura.

“Why is there no movement? He couldn’t have drowned, could he?” the river spirit muttered, though he wasn’t truly worried about Meng Jingzhou drowning, given that this was an illusion where death by water was impossible.

Yet, before the river spirit could deduce what Meng Jingzhou was trying to accomplish, another anomaly erupted!

The ripples on the water grew increasingly frequent; the river spirit frowned slightly, knowing he had controlled his power well, meaning this could not be the result of his own aura.

Then it dawned on him: “It’s that brat who just jumped in!”

Streams of golden aura began to weave through the current, and the mist above the surface exuded a trace of immortal grace, as if some profound, terrifying entity were incubating at the river bottom!

The heart-stopping dread of the unknown loomed large!

Three geysers erupted from the river, surging higher and higher, splashing a pale golden mist that blanketed the entire surface, temporarily blinding the river spirit to the unfolding events.

A wind blew from an unknown origin, dispersing the pale golden shroud.

Three silhouettes materialized, each bearing the exact likeness of Meng Jingzhou, though their presence had undergone a transformation so radical it defied comparison.

The river spirit trembled—a primal reaction stemming from the depths of his very soul!

A mortal Meng Jingzhou, a cultivation grandmaster Meng Jingzhou, and... an immortal Meng Jingzhou!

This was the fundamental rule of the illusion: whenever a mundane object fell into the river, it would manifest in three gradations—mortal, spiritual, and immortal.

“Give it here.” The three Meng Jingzhous spoke in perfect unison, reclaiming the axes that belonged to them.

Faced with the immortal Meng Jingzhou, the river spirit was utterly powerless, entirely at his mercy.

The immortal Meng Jingzhou claimed the immortal artifact, the Sky-Cleaving Axe; the cultivation grandmaster Meng Jingzhou claimed the spiritual artifact, the Mountain-Splitting Axe; and the mortal Meng Jingzhou, borrowing their formidable stature, snatched the ragged old axe before the river spirit could even react.

With all three axes secured, the illusion shattered, and Meng Jingzhou cleared the trial.

Those who passed the second trial would temporarily slip into unconsciousness, a natural protective mechanism of the human body.

…

The members of the Daoist Sect stared at Lu Yang and Meng Jingzhou, who had both cleared the second trial, reduced to a long, stunned silence.

Weren't these two supposed to be honest men?

Yun Zhi remained silent, but a premonition stirred within her: if these two were recruited into the Daoist Sect, the sect would never know peace again.

She could only hope her premonition was wrong.

The actual river spirit manifested, clutching a golden axe and a silver axe, charging furiously toward Lu Yang and Meng Jingzhou.

As a guardian spirit of the Daoist Sect, he had never suffered such a humiliating disgrace.

“Don’t anyone stop me! Today I will teach these two brats a lesson, sever their hands and feet, and then mend them back together!”

Seeing this, the disciples of the Daoist Sect hastily intervened to restrain the enraged river spirit.

“Senior River Spirit, you mustn't strike them!”

“Senior River Spirit, please appease your anger.”

“If something happens to the examinees, our Daoist Sect's reputation will be utterly ruined if word gets out!”

In the end, it was Dai Bufan who stepped forward to halt the rampaging spirit.

“Rest assured, Senior River Spirit. The third trial was designed by my own hand; it will certainly teach these two a proper lesson.”

Seeing Dai Bufan assure him so solemnly, the river spirit finally let the matter drop.

As the grand finale, two proposals had existed for the third trial: one put forward by Yun Zhi, which was relatively gentle, and one put forward by Dai Bufan, which carried a certain cruelty, though both could test a candidate's Dao heart. After a vote, everyone had unanimously agreed on Yun Zhi’s approach.

Yun Zhi’s plan was too mild, offering no punishment even upon failure; thus, to appease the river spirit’s wrath, they had no choice but to switch to Dai Bufan’s scheme.

Yun Zhi raised no objection to this shift.

It would not be a bad thing to let these two youngsters suffer a little hardship.

The second trial had weeded out a massive number of candidates. Faced with the temptation of the three axes, many had succumbed to their inner desires, falsely claiming to the river spirit that they had dropped the Sky-Cleaving Axe or the Mountain-Splitting Axe.

Having been eliminated and cast out of the illusion, they bitterly complained that the Daoist Sect’s second trial was far too difficult.

Yet not everyone shared this grievance—those who had passed, for instance, offered no complaints at all.

…

“The second trial was actually quite simple,” Mangu remarked. “You just had to speak the truth.”

The crowd waiting for the third trial nodded in agreement, their experiences aligning perfectly with Mangu’s.

“What? So we weren't supposed to jump into the river and wrench the axes from the river spirit's hands?” Meng Jingzhou shouted, bewildered by how differently the others had acted.

Lu Yang rolled his eyes at Meng Jingzhou, thinking him utterly foolish. “If the river spirit wasn't an illusion but real, wouldn't you have just provoked him?”

“You should have done what I did: demand the river spirit's own axes, throw them all into the river, and then all three axes would count as things we dropped.”

Meng Jingzhou experienced a sudden epiphany. “So that’s how it is. You really are the clever one.”

The onlookers silently watched Lu Yang and Meng Jingzhou exchange notes, beginning to seriously doubt whether their own method of passing the trial had been the incorrect one.

Mangu nodded gently. He recalled his father mentioning that the ancient barbarian race had nearly faced extinction precisely because of their arrogance and lack of learning; as a descendant, he had to overcome this flaw and study others with humility.

Mangu felt he had finally found the ideal role models.

Just as the crowd was debating what the correct method of passing truly was, Yun Zhi, Dai Bufan, and the other disciples of the Daoist Sect appeared.

A faint smile graced the corners of Dai Bufan's mouth. With a flick of his palm, a palm-sized peak materialized, expanding rapidly against the wind until, within a few breaths, it loomed a hundred chang tall.

The crowd gasped in low whispers; such a display of mastery was rare even among seasoned cultivators.

The peak was densely forested, lush and green, indistinguishable from a natural mountain, with a long flight of stone steps winding up one face toward the summit.

“This object is known as the Heart-Querying Mountain, a wondrous artifact I requested an elder to refine. Upon this mountain, immortals and mortals stand as equals. Your task is to ascend it; the higher you climb, the firmer your resolve is proven to be.”

“Reach the fiftieth step, and you shall pass.”

Someone raised a doubt: “But wouldn't that grant Mangu an unfair advantage?”

The fifteen-year-old Mangu possessed the physique of a twenty-five-year-old man, standing a full head taller than the rest; in climbing a mountain, his stride would naturally allow him to cover twice the ground of anyone else.

Dai Bufan chuckled. “There is no need to worry about that. The Heart-Querying Mountain reduces everyone's physical constitution to the exact same baseline. Whether you are a mortal or a cultivator, within this mountain, you will all become ordinary mortals.”

“Is there a time limit?” another voice inquired.

“None.”

Joy rippled through the crowd. With no time limit, did it not mean they could attempt it indefinitely? How could they possibly fail the third trial under such conditions?

Could it be that this final trial was mere formality?

"Can we use magical treasures?" They possessed specially crafted magical treasures bestowed by their clan, which could be deployed without the need for spiritual energy—a tremendous advantage.

Dai Bufan smiled with a touch of schadenfreude. "You can."

If, that was, the magical treasures still worked.