Chương 6: A View from Above and in the Reflection

After a very long time. Having climbed to the second-to-last step, An was completely out of breath, barely able to stand.

"Damn staircase... Haa... Haaa... I've definitely been climbing for hours. My feet... I can't even feel my toes anymore. Just a little more!" Finally stepping over the final ledge and onto the Outer Platform, An collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. Some of the new disciples who had climbed alongside him saw him lying on his back and groaning.

"A pathetic sight!" One disciple threw the insult in his direction while walking past.' I started climbing later and reached the platform earlier. Who's pathetic here?' An didn't even bother to look. He just rolled onto his side, continuing to rest. Dragging himself closer to the edge, he looked down the stairs and realized that most of the disciples were still climbing. Some had collapsed halfway and were sitting on the steps, defeated by exhaustion.

Turning to his other side, his gaze fell on the central building, the largest structure on the Outer Platform. Its shape was somewhat reminiscent of a massive circus tent. It had at least five floors, judging by the windows, which were over ten meters high. The building's exterior walls were paneled with white wood, with a base of deep red stone. On either side of the main hall were two long structures that looked like simple barracks.

Looking closer, An realized these buildings consisted of open sections, each serving as a department with a large table. At almost every table, someone sat with their wares laid out.

"Oh, is this like a mini-bazaar?" An muttered. Just then, the dull hum of a flying sword passed over his head. A cultivator jumped from the blade to the ground, vanished the weapon into thin air, and headed straight for the stalls.' It looks like only the disciples of this peak trade here, but disciples from any peak can buy,' An realized. He made a mental note to explore the market sooner or later. Looking around, An saw that the Outer Square was flanked by dense forests.

Two paths led deep into the dark woods, each marked by a massive wooden gate standing opposite the other. After surveying the entire platform, An found nothing else of interest, only a few small buildings that looked like storage sheds. Standing up and dusting off his back, An headed toward the central building. As he approached, he saw a huge sign ' Outer Hall'. After reading it aloud, he stepped inside without hesitation. Inside, An was momentarily blinded by the sheer whiteness of the interior.

The entire first floor was made of snow-white stone, very similar to marble. The inner walls were covered with green-brown wooden panels in a pattern resembling a turtle's shell. Looking up, he saw that the ceiling was also made of white stone, but thick vines hung from it, occasionally twitching with a life of their own. An noticed a long line of new disciples at one of the service windows. Scanning the room, he counted six other windows that were completely free.' I'll check the empty windows first.

Maybe I can get my plaque and belongings there. If not, I haven't lost much time,' he thought, deciding to gamble on the shorter path. At the first two windows, he was immediately shooed away. Approaching the third, An decided to mention the inner disciple, hoping it would add some weight to his request.

"Elder, I am a new disciple. I just arrived at the Peak today. The inner disciple who escorted us told me to come here for help!"" Huuu... a new disciple? Finally. Whatever. What's your name, little one?" The elder at the window didn't even lift his head. He muttered in a slightly resonant voice, yawning constantly.

"An."

"An what? What is your full name?" the elder asked again, his voice calm.

"Just An. That is my name, not my family name," An said quickly, worried his answer might anger the man.

"Huh. It has been a long time since I met someone without a family name. Even peasants usually have a surname, even if it's just the name of their village," the elder said with mild surprise. He finally lifted his head to look at An, "Ooh! Now I understand why you don't have a surname." Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. The elder's sudden realization puzzled An.

Just as he was about to ask for an explanation, the elder let out a sharp, loud whistle toward the back of the room. Instantly, a small pouch and a plaque made of black metal flew from the darkness of the storage cabinets into the elder's hand. He tossed both items to An.

"Inside the spatial pouch are a few thin booklets. You can read them right here in the Hall, which I strongly advise you to do. Understood? Now, step away and don't hold up the line." Having handed over the items, the elder lowered his head and closed his half-asleep eyes. An opened his mouth to ask a question but immediately thought better of it. There was no point in bothering the man further. Glancing at the pouch and the plaque, he found a quiet corner to sit in.

Stepping into the corner, he sat down against the wall and placed the pouch on the floor. For the first time, An saw his reflection in the polished stone. The child looking back at him appeared twelve years old at most. He was pale, skinny, and practically all bones. His face was covered in dirt, his eyes were a sharp green, and his dark brown hair hung to his chin, though it was matted with black spots of grime.

An lowered his head closer to the floor, taking his hair in his hand and tucking it back to get a full view of his face. Then he froze. On his neck, he saw a burn in the shape of a cross and a circle superimposed on each other. Touching the scar, An frowned.

"So that's why everyone looks at me with such contempt. Because of this brand? If I trust the memories, this was done a few years after the original owner was sold into slavery. The brand of a slave." Letting go of his neck, An looked around at the others in the hall.

"Who cares? Who cares about that?" An snorted, shrugged, and dismissed the thought. He dropped his head back down to continue examining his reflection.

"Based on the memories, I should be ten years old, and all new disciples are supposed to be under twelve. So why do they all look fifteen, while I look twelve at most? Is it because slaves are barely fed? UuuAaaa~" Sticking his tongue out as far as it would go, An checked its color, then inspected his eyes and ears as best he could.

"Tongue color looks healthy, eyes are normal, if a bit tired. Aside from malnutrition, everything seems fine." He stopped touching his face and stared at the floor again.

"My new face looks a lot like my original one, even the hair and eyes. Is that why my soul chose this body? Because it's almost identical to mine?" While An was busy examining himself, more and more people began to notice him. At one point, he had stood up to lift his clothes and peer into his pants, muttering incomprehensible things to himself. Some kids snickered at his behavior.

Others pretended not to notice, not out of politeness, but because their status was too high to look down at a branded peasant floundering on the floor. A few simply spat in his direction, uttering insults. After finishing his self-examination, An sat back down and took out his plaque. It read: An, Outer Disciple, Hope Peak.

"Hope Peak? I thought it would be something flashier, like 'Peak of Eternal Purity' or 'Peak of Righteous Aspiration'. Heh, alright. Time to read the booklets." Putting the plaque aside, An took the pouch in his hands. The material felt dense, like fabric and leather combined. When he touched the drawstring, it opened on its own, and two booklets flew out: ' General Rules for Disciples of the Heavenly Soul Sect' and ' Notes for New Disciples'.

An rummaged through the pouch and found five shiny white stones that glowed like dim flashlights, two pairs of gray uniforms, and a cold metal emblem shaped like a rose with two leaves. He was surprised how much could fit inside such a small bag.' So this is a spatial pouch. I wonder how much space is actually in there.' He peered inside, but saw only darkness. Giving up on seeing the interior, he opened the first book.

"First rule: individual fights within sect territory are prohibited… Rule seven: to issue a duel challenge, you must officially register at the Outer Hall... Rule thirteen: transferring techniques obtained from the Scripture Pavilion is punishable by the destruction of your cultivation, and in some cases, death…" An read carefully, trying to memorize everything. But when he reached rules forty-six and forty-seven, his eyes lit up.

"Rule forty-six: disciples who have achieved Practitioner status in Non-Combat Paths may be exempt from mandatory semi-annual assignments. Rule forty-seven: Masters in Non-Combat Paths may refuse to participate in any events not related to the honor of the Sect itself." An closed the book and placed it on his lap.

"So I can hide inside the sect if I become a Master." He felt a surge of excitement.

"My wood element is perfect for Alchemy and farming. This is my only way to stay safe." He recalled the novel, soon, a hidden struggle would begin between the Demonic and Righteous sects. Mo Fan would constantly run into demonic disciples on his missions. An's best chance to survive and cultivate in peace was to reach Master status in Alchemy as quickly as possible. Exhaling, An picked up the second booklet. It explained how to claim ownership of the plaque and pouch.' I need to drip a drop of blood onto them.'

With some effort, An bit his finger. As the first drop hit the plaque, he felt a strange connection, as if the object had become an extra finger on his hand. Immediately, a stream of information rushed into his mind.' My new home is plot C8-13. To get there, I need to exit the Outer Hall and go through the left gate.' An studied the mental map, ' It's already getting dark, but it doesn't matter. First, find food. Second, the Scripture Pavilion. After that, I'll go home…

I'm not sleepy anyway, too much interesting stuff is happening!' His body was exhausted, but the adrenaline and the wonders of this new world made his blood boil. He wasn't ready to rest just yet.