Chapter 150 - A Question for Free
Following a brief interlude of tranquility, the practitioners assembled within Night's Fall Sword City found themselves engulfed once more in a cacophony of activity.
Across the Middle Continent, young cultivators had readied themselves, much like the few men confined within the inn's small quarters. Aspiring to make a name in the Upper Central Realm, these youthful immortal cultivators were ubiquitous.
Each hailed as the paragon of their respective sects, they bore the weighty responsibility and expectations of their factions.
Their selection to partake in the Sword Singing Conference signified their status as the most exceptional disciples within their sects.
Failure to secure a favorable ranking in the Sword Singing event would deal a severe blow to their sect's prestige.
Conversely, for a sect lacking renown or status, the sudden emergence of a dark horse in the Sword Singing Conference, achieving a commendable ranking, could attract the attention of other sects and expand their social network.
Such were the societal norms within the Xianxia realm; one's standing depended entirely on their strength or potential strength.
Consequently, many cultivators had spent several years, if not decades, preparing for this moment.
Their endeavors all aimed at seizing the opportunity to shine in the highly anticipated Sword Singing Conference.
Despite the jubilant atmosphere pervading the Tide-watching Sword-listening Conference over the past seven days, beneath the veneer of harmony lay a plethora of anxiety and covert competition. The resonance of the sword had already stirred the emotions of all present.
During the brief respite and reorganization period, they had also concluded their observations of the tide and the sword's song. Now, they were poised for the final transition.
Amidst the scrutiny of the audience at the Sword Singing Platform, Lang Qing struggled to contain his excitement. Standing before the precipitous cliffs of the Sword Pavilion, he straightened his posture, a radiant smile adorning his face.
Despite his recent breakthroughs and newfound mental fortitude, Lang Qing, still a youth at heart, couldn't suppress his eagerness for recognition after clinching first place.
Accompanied by fellow swordsmiths, Lang Qing ascended the stage to receive accolades from the Sword Pavilion. Gong Wei conferred upon him the title of elder within the Sword Pavilion and the esteemed designation of a 10-star sword forger. His creation in the previous battle had produced a weapon worthy of an eight-star rating within the Sword Pavilion.
The criteria for an eight-star weapon were straightforward. A nine-star swordsmith could freely forge such a weapon and be deemed worthy of a nine-star rating.
In the game's ranking system, it held the equivalent status of a rare purple weapon.
Within the game, equipment was categorized by color. White denoted items of average quality, ranging from 1 to 2 stars. Green items were enhanced versions, rated from 3 to 4 stars, while blue items represented excellence, ranging from 5 to 6 stars. The rarity escalated with purple items ranging from seven to eight stars, and orange denoting legendary status at nine stars.
Despite not meeting the actual level requirement, Lang Qing had fulfilled half of the criteria for a nine-star swordsmith. Considering he was merely mortal, he was rewarded accordingly.
It was common knowledge that ten stars served more as an honorary distinction than a genuine level.
Nevertheless, it managed to astonish everyone.
Lang Qing expressed particular gratitude towards Xia Shui and Luo Shun, along with two anonymous admirers of his master. Their encouragement meant a great deal to him.
The two Devil Cult spies, observing from below, maintained stoic expressions but cursed inwardly. Who would have thought this individual possessed such unwavering integrity? Despite their attempts to entice him, he remained introspective.
They suspected some within the sect harbored malicious intent, yet many genuinely sought his welfare.
Nonetheless, his own mentality hindered his performance in the competition, preventing him from achieving his full potential.
Ultimately, he recognized his own culpability, attributing external factors merely as contributing elements, with the primary fault lying within himself.
Even the members of the Devil Cult couldn't sway him with their words, at least for the time being.
Their ability to disguise themselves and approach Lang Qing demonstrated their adeptness as spies. However, further advancement seemed unattainable.
Fortunately, their primary task involved guiding the flood in Ice-Crowned Heights. This setback only left them feeling somewhat frustrated.
Conversely, Guo Fan smiled and nodded at Lang Qing and Luo Shun amidst the crowd.
Gong Wei proceeded to declare the commencement of the Sword Singing Conference, offering words of encouragement and outlining the rewards for participants, as per tradition.
Within the Sword Pavilion's armory lay three long swords: Floating Light, Versatility, and Tianyi.
Among the trio, Floating Light boasted an eight-star rating, while the other two held seven stars each.
The Sword Pavilion consistently bestowed such rewards annually, and this year was no exception, marking it as a notably generous gesture.
Nonetheless, given the abundance of skilled swordsmiths within the Sword Pavilion, the periodic forging of seven and eight-star weapons to replenish their stock was a routine affair during the biennial assembly.
Notably absent from this year's “opening ceremony” was Sun Fen, leaving only Luo Shun onstage, seemingly avoiding any encounter with Guo Fan.
Guo Fan redirected his attention. Next on the agenda was the distribution of participant number plates and the commencement of the initial round of random draw matches.
Having previously disclosed their proficiency levels, contestants would compete within their designated tiers. Victors would progress within their levels, while rankings among the defeated would determine subsequent challenges. Those at the forefront of the Losers Group stood a chance to challenge the ultimate victor.
Ultimately, a ‘Sword Singing Ranking' would emerge. Breaking into the top ten would garner the attention of major factions, amplifying visibility alongside the dissemination of the Soul Haunt Ship.
The wooden tablets automatically assessed participants' cultivation bases, segregating them into appropriate brackets.
Few contenders had reached the ninth level of Foundation Establishment. Guo Fan speculated that after confronting three or four opponents, he would likely encounter Meng Jin. Unless this individual chose to enter the Losers Group outright, encountering a Core Forming Stage practitioner like Song Ru would be as rare as a phoenix feather or a qilin horn.
Mentioning Song Ru, Guo Fan, who had spent recent days within the City Lord Mansion and hadn't crossed paths with her for a while, noticed her presence at the event.
This Fifth Junior Sister of Velvet Control immediately noticed Guo Fan's… feline companion.
Internally, she wondered why Xia Shui lingered in the City Lord Mansion for days on end, causing her to obsess over that little white cat, feeling too embarrassed to approach the Lady Boss once more.
Just as Guo Fan prepared to greet her, Song Ru's eyes widened, and within her narrowed gaze, the figure of a woman in a green dress was reflected.
Not far behind Guo Fan stood the figure in question.
“…”
Song Ru blinked, observing the oblivious Guo Fan.
She sensed that Lady Destiny's Song Sword Cultivator, the judge, was seeking him out.
At that moment, the graceful and valiant woman glanced up at Song Ru, offering a faint smile.
Song Ru hesitated briefly before returning the smile.
Holding the wooden tablet, Guo Fan noted the number sixty-six, considering it a stroke of luck.
Stepping back to prepare, he inadvertently collided with a soft form.
“…”
Their eyes met, and Guo Fan heard Yijun's voice. “Fourth aunt, come…”
The girl's voice abruptly ceased, replaced by an apologetic tone. “She's too quick.”
“It's challenging to evade the girl's notice,” remarked the Destiny's Song Sword Cultivator softly. “I have only one query.”
She continued, “Between Fang Xiang and myself, you must choose life or death. Whom do you select?”
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