"Let's move!"
Moments later, the man in front glanced at the time and barked sharply.
Selina Zhu jolted at his words, snapping out of her daze. Her brows furrowed tightly as she shot Evan Lin a cold, dismissive look.
"Damn it, how could I ever be interested in that kid? He’s obviously just a clown trying to attract attention! Who knows what trick he pulled—he almost made me lose my senses for a second."
Selina Zhu was annoyed deep down. Just a moment ago, she’d actually felt a strange urge not to look away from him.
"Come on, Selina. That guy’s obviously a nutcase."
Harvey He shot Evan Lin a cold glare and let out a snort.
Truth be told, he wasn’t as good-looking as Evan Lin, but since they were at the foot of Heavenly Sword Mountain, it wasn’t the right time to cause trouble. Otherwise, with Harvey’s temper, he would’ve already gone over and beaten that kid up.
Harvey He had been interested in Selina Zhu for a long time. Back in Oceanport, he’d tried every trick to win her over, but no matter what he did, Selina never warmed up to him—leaving Harvey more than a little frustrated.
Just now, seeing Selina Zhu staring at that kid for so long made Harvey grit his teeth in anger.
"That kid—who knows if he can even make it halfway up the mountain! These stone steps might not look like much, but they’re definitely no walk in the park!"
The crowd formed two lines—sixty or seventy people in all—following the man as they started up the stone steps of Heavenly Sword Mountain.
The moment someone set foot on the first step, their expression changed.
The stone steps ahead looked perfectly ordinary, but the instant you stepped on them, a wave of icy chill surged up from your soles, making quite a few people shiver uncontrollably.
"These steps are all carved from Coldwater Stone, hauled up from a hundred meters below the sea. Step on them and the chill goes straight to your bones—great for your cultivation, but if you can’t handle it, just turn back. Every year, not many make it past these thousand-plus steps, so don’t stress yourselves out."
The man in front offered this bit of advice, even flashing a rare smile.
The rest of the group followed, each one gritting their teeth and trudging forward with obvious difficulty.
Harvey He was fine for the first few steps, but soon he was shivering from the cold. The colder it got, the faster he tried to walk—hoping to warm up and fight off the chill creeping up from his feet.
Selina Zhu’s elegant brows kept furrowing. After climbing a few dozen steps, people in the crowd were already starting to give up.
Evan Lin brought up the rear, and unlike the others—who found walking on these deep-sea Coldwater Stones pure torture—he was actually enjoying it.
Even more remarkable, Evan Lin realized that every single Coldwater Stone here held a faint trace of Water Spirit qi.
"Ever since I first cultivated Water Spirit, I've been able to summon wind and rain and even transform water into a dragon, but my Water Spirit is still ordinary—it needs more tempering. If I ever get the chance to encounter a true Water Spirit Body, that would be perfect."
Evan felt the icy chill beneath his feet, but every step he took left the stone a shade lighter. He moved steadily upward, not rushing—if anything, the climb felt easier and easier.
Every now and then, Selina Zhu glanced back. She’d assumed that kid lagging behind was just looking for a chance to quit, but as he kept climbing, he looked totally relaxed—no sign of struggle at all. In fact, he was starting to leave more and more people in the dust.
This scene left Selina a bit surprised, while Harvey He gritted his teeth and pushed himself even harder up the steps.
Three hours passed in a flash.
Of the original group of sixty or seventy, only a little over thirty remained.
By the time they reached the halfway point of the mountain and stepped off those bone-chilling stone stairs, most people just plopped down on the plaza floor, gasping for air.
Heavenly Sword Mountain, halfway up—the Sword-Practice Field.
The entire Sword-Practice Field was paved with old blue-brown stone slabs. Not far away, wooden dummies stood upright, and a few people were practicing swordplay with wooden swords.
In the very center of the Sword-Practice Field, another group of teens—probably twenty or thirty in all—had already gathered. They must have arrived earlier than Evan Lin’s batch.
Evan Lin moved slowly. After climbing the steps, he stood on the Sword-Practice Field, calmly scanning the area.
"Holy crap, that kid actually made it up here!"
Harvey He stared at Evan Lin, swallowed hard, and frowned.
"Take a quick break. Since you’ve all made it up here, the next phase is the most important—it determines whether you’ll stay in the Sword Sect."
The man who’d led them up left these words, then hurried off toward the summit of the Southriver Sword Sect.
Evan Lin and the others waited about an hour. From the mountain below, another guide appeared, leading dozens more up the steps.
But this batch was huge—over fifty people made it up the steps.
"Weird. Why do the steps feel so much less cold today? Or is it just that my cultivation’s improved a lot?"
The guide was still puzzled, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it. After leaving the group at the Sword-Practice Field, he quickly headed up to the summit.
Time ticked by, second after second.
Evan Lin wasn’t in a hurry—he just waited quietly.
Before long, someone came down from the mountain.
The newcomer looked about forty, wore Daoist robes, and carried a longsword. His features were square and dignified, and he moved with a light, almost ethereal step—each footfall barely touched the ground. In no time, he reached the Sword-Practice Field.
"It’s a Sword Master!"
Everyone’s faces lit up with excitement at the sight.
In the Southriver Sword Sect, the hierarchy starts with disciples, then Sword Masters, followed by Deputy Chief Sword Masters and the Chief Sword Master. Above them are the elders, and at the very top, the sect master.
Any Sword Master of the Southriver Sword Sect means they’ve reached the Vajra Realm in cultivation—a true expert in the eyes of ordinary people.
Everyone watched as the Sword Master, Southriver Sword in hand, struck a relaxed pose. He might be a bit older, but he was still a formidable expert.
"My surname is Wang. You can call me Sword Master Wang."
Sword Master Wang landed lightly and stood tall, one hand behind his back—radiating the air of a true master. He swept his gaze around and spoke in a clear, hearty voice: "The Southriver Sword Sect’s entrance exam is always straightforward. The first trial is climbing the steps. All of you who made it up all 1,555 Coldwater Stone stairs have proven you’ve got enough talent, grit, and endurance to stand out from the crowd!"
"But that alone isn’t enough. Our Southriver Sword Sect has five foundational swords. Only those who enter the Thousand-Sword Burial Ground and are acknowledged by a Southriver Sword have a chance to stay!"
"The second trial is simple: seek a sword in the Thousand-Sword Burial Ground!"