The central plaza of Crimson Cloud Peak was a sprawling expanse of white marble. Waterfalls of spiritual mist fell from the cliffs into deep stone basins. At the center stood the Contribution Hall, a towering, five-story structure of dark basalt, its wide timber doors reinforced with runic iron.
Su Ming walked through the doors with a steady pace. Wearing his simple peak master robes, he attracted little attention as he approached one of the polished jade counters. Behind it sat Deacon Gao, an elderly man with thinning grey hair and a permanent scowl, busy stamping record slips.
"State your name and peak," Deacon Gao said without looking up.
"Su Ming. White Lotus Peak."
The deacon's hand paused slightly. He glanced up, his scowl deepening as he recognized the acting master of the sect's quietest peak.
"Ah. Acting Peak Master Su. What brings you to the Contribution Hall today? Are you here to request your peak's basic monthly allocation?"
"No," Su Ming replied calmly. He reached into his sleeve, retrieving a dark leather booklet and two freshly written jade slips, placing them quietly on the jade counter.
"I am here to submit the refined versions of some of the techniques I took from the library during the previous visits. I have optimized their paths to remove the structural flaws."
Deacon Gao glanced at the slips. "What is this?"
"The Refined Version of Burning Palm," Su Ming explained. "On my previous visit, I selected the Mortal-grade Burning Palm. I found several flaws in its meridian pathways and restructured the flow, bypassing the clogged points. It is now a flawless mystic-grade manual."
Deacon Gao pressed his spiritual sense into the jade slip. His skeptical look vanished, replaced by intense focus.
"This...."
The meridian routes were clean, completely devoid of the usual friction points. Rebuilt with a level of precision that bordered on perfection, it was now a solid Low Mystic-grade technique.
"Highly refined," the deacon muttered. He picked up the second slip, which contained another basic movement art Su Ming had optimized. Again, his eyes widened. "Two optimized manuals. And this booklet?"
"The first volume of the Nine Desolation Sword Technique," Su Ming said. "Confiscated from a demonic cultivator. It contains the first three pages."
Deacon Gao frowned. "A demonic cultivator's manual? We do not accept corrupted techniques."
"It is not corrupted, but it is incomplete and highly dangerous," Su Ming warned. "It siphons the user's marrow and burns blood essence to fuel its strikes. Anyone practicing it directly will damage their foundations within ten years. I have documented these flaws. I wish to exchange it for points."
Deacon Gao pulled the booklet closer. The moment his fingers touched the leather, a cold shiver ran up his arm. The pages radiated a quiet, entropic chill.
The deacon's face drained of color. He stood up, chair scraping the floor, and pressed a specialized runic lens to the cover. The lens flared deep-golden, vibrating violently.
"Saint... Saint Rank?!" Deacon Gao gasped. "A fragment of a Saint Rank sword inheritance!"
Nearby elders and disciples turned with wide, shocked eyes. Saint Rank inheritances were legendary treasures in this world, incredibly scarce due to environmental decay.
"Are you certain you wish to submit this, Peak Master Su?" Deacon Gao asked, his hands trembling slightly as he held the booklet.
"A Saint Rank fragment, even incomplete and dangerous, is worth a fortune. Many would keep it for themselves."
For a moment, Deacon Gao was confused whether this young acting peak master of the White Lotus Peak had gone mad.
"If I cannot cultivate it safely, keeping it is merely inviting disaster," Su Ming replied, his tone practical. "The sect's archives are the safest place for it."
Deacon Gao swallowed hard, nodding slowly. "A wise decision. Let me process this."
The deacon placed the booklet and the slips into the mystical registry. It glowed with intense silver light as the sect's central formation evaluated the submissions. After a long minute, a series of bright numbers flashed above the jade counter.
The payout was staggering. The Saint Rank Nine Desolation fragment alone was valued at a massive one hundred and fifty thousand contribution points. The Refined Burning Palm and the optimized movement art, being refinements of basic mortal-grade library files, were awarded fifteen thousand points each. In total, a sum of one hundred and eighty thousand contribution points was credited to Su Ming, a massive payout that dwarfed any standard exchange.
"The points have been transferred to your token, Peak Master Su," Deacon Gao said, his voice now carrying a distinct, respectful tone.
"The Nine Desolation Sword manual will be locked in the deep vaults of the Scripture Hall immediately."
Su Ming bowed slightly, taking his token. "Thank you, Deacon."
He turned and walked toward the upper floors of the Scripture Hall. Behind him, the hall was already buzzing with whispers. The news of a Saint Rank sword fragment submission would not remain secret for long. In fact, deep within the peaks, the elders of Heavenly Sword Peak had already received this news. The name of the manual and the peak master who submitted it began to circulate through the sword peak's elders.
***
Su Ming climbed to the third floor of the Scripture Hall, where the Mystic Rank archives were kept. Using his massive points balance, he began to browse the rows of glowing jade shelves.
He did not look for powerful, complete inheritances. He did not need them. Instead, he sought inspiration—specific rungs to build his own ladder.
First, the Yang-Core Ignition Art, a standard, mid-tier flame circulation technique. Second, the Flickering Cinder Mantra, a flame control method that focused on the stability and compression of spark flames. Neither was powerful on its own, but their structural pathways provided exactly what he needed to understand the transition of his flames.
Next, he visited the sword technique section, selecting three manuals. First, the Wind-Riding Sword Stance, which focused on speed and air drag reduction. Second, the Swift Wave Sword Art, which focused on continuous, layered kinetic momentum. Third, the Nine-Fold Gale Slash, detailing rapid strike repetition. These three styles would provide the raw physical motions he needed to synthesize his evolved sword technique.
Finally, he took two basic defensive spiritual methods to understand the process of healing and one for defence.
Having secured the jade slips, Su Ming left the hall, ignoring the curious gazes of the library guardians, and returned to White Lotus Peak. He walked straight into his cultivation chamber and closed the heavy stone gate, entering deep seclusion.
***
Meanwhile, on the highest peak of the Heavenly Cloud Sect, the submission of the Saint Rank fragment had triggered a silent alarm.
Deep within the Sect Master's private sanctuary, a space of absolute quiet surrounded by towering pine trees and flowing spiritual springs, Sect Master Jun Tianya stood by a stone table. Sitting opposite him was a mysterious visitor—an old man who appeared to be in his early seventies, thin-framed, wearing ordinary, unembellished robes. The old man was quietly sipping tea, his movements unhurried. Yet, every shift of his posture radiated the silent, absolute authority of a sovereign.
Suddenly, a shadow flickered near the entrance of the pavilion.
A cultivator draped in full black cloth—a member of the Sect Master's Shadow Squad—materialized from the darkness.
The black-clad guard stepped forward. The moment his eyes fell upon the mysterious old man sitting at the table, his breath caught. He did not dare to advance further. Instead, he dropped to his knees, kneeling deeply in front of the mysterious old man, his head pressing flat against the polished wooden floor in a display of profound, trembling reverence.
Jun Tianya did not look surprised. He flicked his hand, setting up a soundproof barrier.
"Speak."
"Sect Master," the shadow guard reported, his voice low and respectful.
"Just moments ago, the acting peak master of White Lotus Peak, Su Ming, visited the Scripture Hall. He submitted a Saint Rank sword inheritance fragment—the first volume of the Nine Desolation Sword Technique."
Jun Tianya's brows rose in genuine surprise. "A Saint Rank fragment? From where did he acquire it?"
"According to his official report, he confiscated it from the demonic cultivator, Lin Fan, during the Withered Valley mission," the guard explained. "He warned the registry that the technique is incomplete and siphons the user's life force, choosing to hand it over rather than cultivate it. Heavenly Sword Peak has already been alerted, and their elders are currently demanding access to the vaults to study it. Furthermore, Su Ming submitted a refined, flawless version of the Burning Palm, upgrading it from Mortal to Mystic rank."
"He gave up a Saint Rank sword manual?" Jun Tianya murmured, a faint, intrigued smile touching his lips. "Most cultivators would have hidden it away, trying to decipher it in secret despite the danger. His methods are... unusual. And he refined the library's basic palm technique?"
"Yes, Sect Master," the guard confirmed, still kneeling deeply.
Jun Tianya turned to the mysterious old man, who was still sipping his tea in silence. "Uncle, what do you think? This is the youth that Elder Xuan left the White Lotus Peak to."
The mysterious old man, the Cloud Sword Saint, set his tea cup down. He did not know Su Ming. He had never met him, but he knew Elder Xuan. Or rather, Disciple Xuan. In his later years, the once young man had chosen to withdraw into silent seclusion, neglecting his duties.
His gaze remained calm, like the vast sky looking down upon the earth. But as he listened to the report, a faint, quiet stir of interest entered his clear, ancient eyes.
To prove oneself a genius of swordplay was one thing. To possess the cold, analytical clarity to discard a Saint Rank inheritance because of its structural flaws, that was something else entirely.
The Cloud Sword Saint looked toward the distant direction of White Lotus Peak.
"Interesting," the sword saint murmured, his voice quiet, final, and absolute.