Chapter 12: Direct Transmission Upon Entry

"Who are you?"
Gu Li fixed her gaze on Fang Wang, her delicate brows tightly knitted as she scrutinized him. For him to dare step forward at this moment, he must be no ordinary character. Had she misjudged him? Could this young man have a profound background?

Everyone present was sizing up Fang Wang, including the Sleepy Immortal.

Fang Wang remained calm. "My name is Fang Wang. Why don't you and I have a duel first? The winner shall earn the right to challenge everyone alone. What do you think?"

The moment these words left his mouth, the crowd erupted with excitement. Nearly everyone here came from established cultivation families. While few dared to volunteer themselves, seeing someone slight Gu Li was thrilling.

Most feared the powerful name of the Gu Family from Northern Luo, but some were merely cautious, believing that if they rushed to become the personal disciple, they might not even qualify for the sword-bearing disciple trials. Facing an onslaught from fifty-one opponents, they might be defeated before they could display their strength.

The Sleepy Immortal stroked his beard, eyes alight with amusement, making no move to intervene.

Gu Li stepped forward, drawing a slender sword from her back—a blade only two fingers wide but four feet long, its edge shining coldly.

"Very well, let’s try," she responded coldly, raising her sword to point at Fang Wang.

Fang Wang lifted his right arm, raising his sword, but quickly released it. The sword hovered in the air before him.

Gu Li narrowed her eyes and struck first. Her sword sliced through the air, releasing a fierce wave of sword energy that surged towards Fang Wang, kicking up clouds of dust and sand.

With a sudden flick of his wrist, Fang Wang’s flying sword shot forward, a blazing streak that tore apart the sword energy and scattered the winds. In an instant, it stopped, hovering just before Gu Li’s brow.

The sword’s wind blew away Gu Li’s bamboo hat and veil, revealing a stunningly beautiful face now frozen in shock.

Staring at the sword suspended before her, Gu Li was paralyzed. The tip of the blade glittered in her pupils like cold stars, and cold sweat broke out on her forehead.

Everyone was startled—even Zhou Xue arched a brow.

"I was right about him. But his sword-control technique…"

Given Fang Wang’s performance that night, Zhou Xue had been sure his true strength was far greater than his cultivation alone suggested. That was why she’d pushed him forward. His mastery of sword control surprised her—even cultivators at the Spiritual Molding stage might not match that speed.

Of course, back then, Fang Wang had wielded only a mundane sword, while now he held a magical blade.

Yet even this most basic magic sword unleashed such power in his hands. What, then, was the limit of his potential?

Even the Sleepy Immortal was startled, his eyes glowing as he fixed his gaze on Fang Wang.

"What domineering control, such ferocious speed, and to halt it in an instant! Even I nearly failed to react," the Sleepy Immortal thought, breaking into a cold sweat. If Gu Li had died here, it would have been disastrous.

The Luo North Gu Family was not to be trifled with!

He had no choice but to pay close attention, wary lest Fang Wang go too far.

Behind him, the disciples of the Grand Abyss Sect looked as if they’d seen a ghost. Was this young man truly only at the Energy Nurturing stage?

Fang Wang ignored Gu Li, sweeping his gaze over the crowd. "Does anyone object to me becoming a candidate for personal disciple?"

No one dared reply. They stared at him as if facing a formidable enemy, quietly drawing their own magical tools.

A faint smile played at Zhou Xue's lips. "Such sharpness! Usually so reserved, but when it’s time to fight, he exudes such presence. If he hadn't died on that fateful night, just how far could he have risen?"

She drew out a talisman, the same yellow one the Daoist in green had used before.

Fang Wang saw this and his heart skipped a beat. Was she really going to fight seriously?

Hey! We’re on the same side here!

With a twist of his wrist, Fang Wang recalled his sword from before Gu Li’s brow, the blade snapping back into his palm.

Gu Li’s heart pounded like a drum as she gazed at Fang Wang, her mind reeling.

Just now, in that split second, she’d sensed the presence of death. If he had wished to kill her, she would have had no chance to escape.

How could the gap be so wide?

She hadn’t even had the chance to use her Five Saints Sword Technique.

At this moment, her father’s words echoed in her mind: "The Grand Abyss Sect is destined to rise. Talented geniuses will emerge there. You must never let your guard down."

Fang Wang paid no attention to her thoughts. Seeing the others moving to surround him, he realized sword control alone would not suffice.

He stabbed his flying sword into the ground and faced the encirclement with empty hands.

Arrogant!

That was everyone’s impression. As some began to lose patience, Fang Wang raised his right hand, palm facing down.

Boom!

A powerful aura erupted from Fang Wang’s body, sending dust swirling around him. Three fireballs formed behind his head, blazing like miniature suns. His robe billowed, his expression turning cold and unyielding.

"What is this…?"

"Impossible!"

The Sleepy Immortal and Zhou Xue were both shocked—the former delighted, the latter purely stunned.

The Xuan Yang Divine Sutra!

Zhou Xue had claimed before she had never mastered it before ascending, but that was to mislead Fang Wang. In truth, she had reached the sixth layer before abandoning it for other reasons.

Even reaching six layers had taken her decades. And yet, how long had Fang Wang cultivated?

Judging by the three balls of fire behind his head, he had clearly surpassed the first layer. She suddenly suspected he’d even reached the seventh layer, which she herself had never attained.

No wonder his cultivation advanced so quickly. In just over a month…

For such a genius to be born in Great Qi, Zhou Xue suddenly felt the hand of destiny; perhaps some unseen force was guiding the fate of the Fang family.

In this life, Fang Wang had survived, and the world would change.

Though she found it incredible, it wasn’t beyond belief. After all, she had ascended herself and had seen even stranger prodigies.

"Attack!"

A man in black, wearing a bamboo hat, shouted and slammed his palm to the ground. The box on his back opened, releasing a volley of black arrows toward Fang Wang.

The others unleashed their spells at once, all choosing long-range attacks—even Zhou Xue joined in, her yellow talisman firing dozens of golden rays.

In an instant, dazzling lights enveloped Fang Wang.

His eyes narrowed. He clenched his right fist, and the three fireballs behind his head exploded into a surging sea of flames, sweeping away spells and magical tools from every direction. Waves of fire billowed skyward in a breathtaking display.

In the next moment, Fang Wang launched into motion with Shadow Step. Having mastered the ninth layer of the Xuan Yang Divine Sutra, he no longer feared any flame. In three steps, he appeared before a cultivator.

His palm struck with the speed of lightning and the force of thunder.

Bang!

The cultivator was sent flying, blood spraying from his mouth in midair.

Fang Wang spun and swept his leg toward a female cultivator beside him. He was not just a cultivator but a trained martial artist. His body reacted with incredible speed, spiritual power focusing in his right leg as he kicked her in the face, knocking her unconscious.

He pressed his attack, determined to quickly defeat as many opponents as possible, knowing his spiritual power was limited and he could not maintain this intensity for long.

The spiritual power of the Xuan Yang Divine Sutra was extremely domineering. When Fang Wang used the True Dragon Palm with Xuan Yang power, it did not manifest as a simple dragon-shaped aura, but as a magnificent fire dragon that rampaged through the crowd, smashing through several cultivators.

The man in black with the bamboo hat attempted a sneak attack, but Fang Wang dodged with Shadow Step, leaving the man’s staff to strike empty air.

Fang Wang spun, unleashing another True Dragon Palm, but the man dodged. The cultivators behind him, however, were not so lucky; several were sent flying, their bodies ablaze.

Watching disciples rushed to the aid of the burning initiates, only to find the flames difficult to extinguish. They were forced to deploy spells.

Fortunately, the flames abruptly vanished—Fang Wang’s doing. Having mastered the ninth layer of the Xuan Yang Divine Sutra, he could perfectly control the Xuan Yang True Fire and did not wish to accidentally kill anyone.

In less than ten breaths, half the challengers were incapacitated. The survivors jumped back, unwilling to let him get close.

Fang Wang moved like an arrow, seeking his next target. His True Dragon Palm was too fierce; none could withstand it. When Zhou Xue appeared before him, he showed no mercy, facing her as if she were a stranger.

Zhou Xue met his palm strike head-on!

Boom!

Their palms clashed, sending a violent wind howling. Fang Wang frowned as he sensed a sinister spiritual force—like a venomous snake—trying to invade his Xuan Yang power. Fortunately, his own energy was strong enough to resist.

The Sleepy Immortal glanced at Zhou Xue, his eyes lighting up. Another genius!

He immediately categorized Zhou Xue as a sword-bearing disciple.

Just as this thought formed, Zhou Xue spat blood and was hurled several yards away. She struggled to stand, failing several times.

Fang Wang was genuinely impressed by her acting—it was flawless.

He was almost certain that in their exchange, Zhou Xue had matched him in strength.

On reflection, it made sense. She would never have taught him her most powerful technique. If he had been reborn, he too would not nurture someone to surpass himself.

He might care for his kin, but only to make them better, not to the point where he lost control.

With Zhou Xue defeated, the others were no match. The majority were at the fifth to eighth layers of the Energy Nurturing stage; only three had reached the ninth—Gu Li, the man in black, and one more.

Soon, only the man in black remained to fight Fang Wang. His agility was exceptional, making it difficult for Fang Wang to land a blow.

But the man shared Fang Wang’s frustration, if not more so. Any spell he cast was immediately dispersed by the fireballs behind Fang Wang’s head. After more than ten exchanges, Fang Wang’s True Dragon Palm struck from an unexpected angle. Caught off guard, the man reflexively met the palm.

That was his defeat.

He crashed to the ground, clutching his chest and coughing blood, unable to continue.

Fang Wang turned to look at Gu Li, who had yet to make a move. Observing his gaze from afar, she shook her head, conceding.

"Excellent! Wonderful!" the Sleepy Immortal exclaimed, his laughter echoing. "Fang Wang is hereby promoted to personal disciple—the first new initiate in the history of the Grand Abyss Sect to be accepted as a personal disciple upon entry!"

His voice rang out beneath the heavens. The watching disciples looked at Fang Wang with mixed emotions.

The Grand Abyss Sect valued not only talent for cultivation but also combat prowess—two qualities that were often inseparable.

The Sleepy Immortal was already anticipating the quality of Fang Wang’s spiritual treasure after Spiritual Molding. Would it rival that prodigy?