Chapter 707: Sect

“This… where is this?”

Inside the Zhenwu Space, Li Wei stared at the vast surroundings—the steps, the throne… a look of surprise crossed his face: “I remember… I was supposed to be sleeping at home… is this my dream?”

“Yes… and no.”

A deep voice echoed.

Li Wei looked up and saw the indescribable being seated upon the throne.

Merely by lowering its gaze, it forced him to kneel involuntarily.

“Lucky one… or rather, the destined child.”

Fang Xing spoke: “You are within the Zhenwu Space… the stone talisman you fished today is the Zhenwu Talisman!”

“Zhenwu Talisman?”

Li Wei’s eyes widened: “That treasure only the Zhenwu Patriarch had in the novels and tales? Isn’t that just fiction?”

Unlike in the days of Great Xia, when such knowledge had to be hidden.

By the later era of Zhenwu Mountain, the existence of the Zhenwu Talisman was no secret.

Many legends arose, then were turned into stories by even more people. To many martial artists, the Zhenwu Talisman added a divine aura to the Zhenwu Patriarch, bearing a certain resemblance to the Imperial Seal of the State.

“No! It’s real… Don’t you feel honored? You’ve obtained this divine artifact—your future achievements may rival those of the Zhenwu Patriarch, Great Wu’s Founding Emperor, and others…”

Fang Xing’s lips curled in a mocking smile as he raised his hand.

A stone tablet, long companion to countless souls, materialized before him, displaying the Zhenwu Space’s functions and effects…

Li Wei glanced at it and froze in shock: “Assists breakthroughs… is this real?”

He turned to Fang Xing and swallowed hard: “Then what must I pay to obtain the Zhenwu Talisman?”

As a man who had grown up scraping by at the bottom, he knew well: every gift carries a price.

“Pay? Do whatever you wish—after all, the true Golden Age hasn’t arrived yet…”

Fang Xing paused, then said: “But its previous host was the master of the Gui She Sect—Gui Yan Nian. If you use the Zhenwu Talisman, you must join the Gui She Sect and inherit its lineage. Are you willing?”

Gui Yan Nian had once risked his life to shield the Zhenwu Talisman; after that outburst, death was certain.

Since Fang Xing had promised him, he would see the task through.

“Of course I’m willing!” Li Wei immediately knelt and bowed his head: “I couldn’t even find a martial arts master willing to teach me… joining the Gui She Sect means I’ll inherit its legacy—and no rigid sect rules to bind me? Perfect…”

“Hahahaha…”

Fang Xing burst into laughter.

If he were the Gui She Sect’s founding patriarch, he’d be furious, puffing his cheeks and glaring—but he wasn’t.

“Hmm… you’re clever.”

He casually pointed, and a streak of light shot into Li Wei’s forehead: “Here are the Xuanwu True Art, the Zhenwu Contemplation Method, and the ‘Gui She Seven Extremes’!”

Li Wei instantly felt an overwhelming flood of techniques and forms—so overwhelmed with joy he nearly fainted.

He’d been stuck all this time simply because he couldn’t afford to join a martial arts school; only after meeting Kyle had he learned a bit of knightly arts.

But Kyle’s strength… need not be mentioned.

Now, he had finally obtained the pinnacle transmission of the Zhenwu lineage.

“Among these arts, the Contemplation Method and Xuanwu True Art are the foundation; the ‘Gui She Seven Extremes’ are the Gui She Sect’s secret techniques, encompassing the Turtle Qi Gong, Snake Strike Hand, and other extraordinary skills—these are the ‘application’…”

Fang Xing’s casual explanation gave Li Wei clear direction on how to cultivate from now on.

“But… does the Zhenwu Space truly assist in breaking through bottlenecks?”

Li Wei thought for a moment and assumed the stance of the ‘Cross Breathing Method’.

Inhale… exhale…

As he entered the state, he didn’t even need Kyle’s physical guidance to sense the qi flowing within him, opening and closing his vital orifices…

Then, he locked his entire life force and condensed it into a ‘Life Seed’ at his lower dantian!

With the seed formed, the knightly path had truly begun—he was now, without doubt, a ‘Formal Knight’.

In ancient times on the Baiying Continent, he would have been granted noble title and an estate.

If he donned a specially crafted steamsteel armor, even against a peasant army, he could cut through seven times in and out without trouble.

“I’m so strong!”

Li Wei looked at his own bulging muscles, now resembling a bodybuilder, feeling immense power coursing through every limb—he grinned with delight: “I broke through! I’m a Formal Knight!”

“Hmm… this Baiying knightly path has real merit… once broken through, it’s immediately comparable to a low-tier hard-qigong martial artist.”

Fang Xing nodded.

…

The next day.

Li Wei rose and stretched: “Not a dream… it’s real!”

He looked at the Zhenwu Talisman in his hand, carefully strung it on a cord, and hung it around his neck.

“Now… I have martial strength. At least I can become a bodyguard or escort—enough to earn a meal, a few taels of silver each month… enough to bring my family to Xin Feng City.”

“Brother, breakfast is ready.”

His younger sister came to call him for breakfast.

Poor families couldn’t afford much for breakfast—just a pot of nearly empty broth, barely enough to quench thirst.

“Mom, Dad… does Kyle, the one who taught me martial arts, know?”

“Last night I broke through in cultivation—I’m now a true martial artist.”

Li Wei immediately said: “Once I find a good job, we’ll move to Xin Feng City… never live in the slums again.”

He’d had enough of this place—not only was it heavily polluted and cramped, but worse, the gangs constantly extorted protection money!

“Martial artist?!”

Li’s father and mother exchanged glances, both surprised and delighted: “Really? That’s wonderful…”

After her initial joy, Li’s mother sighed: “But rent in Xin Feng City isn’t cheap… let’s not waste money on that. You earn so little—save it for your bride.”

She then clasped her hands together: “This must be the protection of the Youlian Bodhisattva… we must visit Aunt San soon to thank her and fulfill the vow.”

“Youlian Bodhisattva? Vow?” Li Wei’s guard shot up instantly.

This slum was a den of thieves and frauds—not just gangs, but also cults spreading their teachings.

And since the Baiying Continent’s border opened, strange missionaries had crossed thousands of miles to arrive.

They couldn’t be accepted by the Da Luo Dynasty—without official permission, they couldn’t preach in Xin Feng City—but here, in the slums, where constables rarely came, they thrived.

In truth, Li Wei had once joined them for a meal, eating a few bowls of slightly spoiled rice porridge, in exchange for listening to their endless sermons—he didn’t understand much, just that they claimed everyone was sinful…

Li Wei dismissed it as nonsense. What sin did he have? Even if he did, it wasn’t their place to judge.

“Aunt San? That’s Aunt Sang. Her talisman water is miraculous—little Hu from next door had a high fever, and one talisman cured him…”

Li’s mother said: “I went to hear her preach and prayed for you—and look, you broke through! Clearly blessed. We must go fulfill the vow.”

“Uh-huh.” Li Wei gulped down the broth in a few bites: “I’m going out…”

…

Half an hour later.

Aunt Sang’s house.

Crash!

The shack was kicked open—inside, a black altar stood, bearing a grotesque, entirely black statue of a Bodhisattva.

Before it sat a broken incense burner, missing an ear, yet filled with many lit incense sticks.

“Who?!”

A middle-aged woman, her head wrapped in painted cloth, a large black mole on her left cheek, screamed upon seeing a masked man burst in.

At her scream, two burly men lunged forward—either lovers or guards.

Whish!

A gust of wind erupted!

Li Wei swung a thick wooden club, smashing it into one man’s skull.

He had become a Formal Knight, and with a weapon in hand, his power was astonishing.

The man’s eyes rolled back, and he collapsed unconscious.

Li Wei spun the club, jabbing it into the other man’s chest, then thrust with both arms—sending him flying to the ground, unable to rise.

“Murder!”

Aunt Sang cried out, but when she met Li Wei’s eyes, she choked off the words: “Brother, spare me! The money’s in the box under the statue…”

‘So it’s a scam!’

Li Wei’s suspicions solidified.

He couldn’t bear to see his mother deceived—he’d waited for the right moment, masked up, and came to smash this fraud.

He hadn’t expected to expose her so easily.

“Heh!”

At that moment, a voice only he could hear entered his ear: “Kid… you’ve landed yourself in big trouble.”

“Big trouble? What does that mean?”

Li Wei’s heart jumped.

“Knock her out, then search her body—you’ll find out.”

Fang Xing said no more.

Li Wei’s eyes hardened—he swung the club hard against the side of Aunt Sang’s neck.

Sang Sanggu immediately fainted.

In this slum, even if someone were murdered under the bright sun, few constables would bother to investigate.

Still, Li Wei seized the opportunity and searched Sang Sanggu’s body, finding a sachet containing a dozen silver coins and a single slip of paper.

The paper was folded neatly, with a delicate small regular script written on it: “Ninth Rank: The Seer of the Hidden can see in darkness, perceive the obscure, and behold the truth beneath the surface of the mortal world… What is this?”

“It is a special profession.”

Fang Xing sighed: “Young man… have you ever heard of the Demon Cult?”

“The First Rebel of the Great Luo?” Li Wei’s first thought was this.

“Yes, the Ninth Rank Seer of the Hidden is part of the Demon Cult’s promotion system…” Fang Xing smiled: “It seems this ‘Lotus of the Hidden Bodhisattva’ is just a front for the Demon Cult. Sang Sanggu is a lowly pawn under that front—recently granted a reward, she’s barely a formal member, but hasn’t been promoted yet. Congratulations—you’ve become a martial artist, and your first enemy is the Demon Cult. Surprised? Unexpected?”