Chapter Thirty-Four: Awakening

Counting from the day everyone began ascending the Talent Ladder, three days had passed unnoticed. Spectators came and went; after all, many had their own affairs and couldn’t linger indefinitely. According to recorded history, the longest ascent of the Talent Ladder once took over a year.

Those who had left still remembered the most dazzling figures on the ladder that day. Since the crowd was just beginning to climb, it wasn’t difficult to discern the newcomers’ forms. When someone reached halfway up the ladder, clouds and mist would swirl around, obscuring the figures. At the base of the ladder, a stone tablet would rise from the earth, inscribed with the names of the most extraordinarily gifted.

For three days, people either ascended or observed. Chen Hongxu and Fan Caobao slept through all three. If it weren’t for Bing Long, who held the top position and was exceptionally eye-catching, Madam Kuang and Six Sword might have spared a few more glances for the two.

Those with insight already knew that the blood stains on these two belonged to others. After exhausting their strength, their deep slumber exuded a faint aura of vitality and brilliance, clearly marking them as individuals with great potential.

Yet, since both had fought to the point of exhaustion during the sect entrance exam, their prospects seemed limited.

It’s human nature to generalize, and who could imagine that these two bedraggled men, asleep now, had once fought with such ferocity as to slay over a hundred foes?

Besides broken branches and splintered wood, the corpses on the clearing had long been scavenged by wild beasts, so the truth remained hidden.

Another three days passed, and Bing Long remained first, having covered a third of the distance. Though his pace had slowed considerably, he had left the others far behind.

Madam Kuang and Six Sword now regarded Chen and Fan with growing suspicion. Six days was neither too long nor too short; these two men, their bloodstains now faded to mere spots, still slept soundly without eating, drinking, or relieving themselves. Anyone could sense something unusual, but no one dared to dwell on it—especially when considering that these two ragged figures seemed to sustain themselves merely by breathing.

After ten days, Bing Long was only five or six steps from the halfway point. The sun blazed fiercely overhead. Fan Caobao lazily turned over, kicking Chen Hongxu in the backside. Blinking groggily, he looked around in confusion. When he realized his foot was pressed against Chen’s rear, he swallowed hard and quickly sat up.

Holding his breath, Fan Caobao tiptoed closer to Chen Hongxu and confirmed he was genuinely asleep, not feigning it to mess with him. He straightened, patted his chest, and prepared to laugh heartily, but refrained, fearing it might wake Chen. Scratching his head, he glanced about before trotting over to Six Sword, who stood with hands clasped behind his back.

“H-hey, what’s going on right now?” Fan Caobao asked obsequiously.

Six Sword fought back a wave of nausea triggered by the incongruity before him. Squinting, he reached out to stroke the hilt of his sword planted in the ground, deliberately ignoring the man who was destined to shine brightly on the Talent Ladder yet behaved with such vulgarity. His voice was cold: “Climb the Talent Ladder, assess one’s results, then choose or be chosen to join a sect.”

“Oh!” Fan Caobao dragged out the sound, casting a sly glance at the towering ladder disappearing into the clouds. “What’s the wait for? This little distance? I, Fan, can leap ten steps at a time. I’ll be at the top in no time.”

Six Sword’s eye and mouth twitched simultaneously, deciding to pay no further attention to this singularly ignorant man.

Madam Kuang, however, seemed to understand something and smiled gracefully, breaking the silence: “You want to wait for your friend to wake and ascend with him? It’s unnecessary. The Talent Ladder judges individual potential; whether one or two, even thousands, makes no difference.”

“I know,” Fan Caobao smiled at her, his usual flippancy giving way to seriousness. “But I just want to wait for him.”

Madam Kuang’s expression shifted slightly. Standing beside Fan Caobao, Six Sword sensed the determination in his voice and silently admired him. The limits of his tolerance for Fan Caobao’s occasional foul odor had clearly expanded.

Fan Caobao returned to Chen Hongxu’s side and stood over him, gripping his staff. A natural aura of Daoist power emanated from him, stunning the onlookers anew.

On the seventeenth day, clouds and mist enveloped the Talent Ladder, rendering it dreamy and ethereal. At its base, a modest stone tablet emerged, its surface engraved several millimeters deep with characters that shimmered golden—too brilliant to gaze upon directly.

Fan Caobao remained oblivious to his surroundings. He had not moved a muscle, standing guard with his staff for seven days without fatigue. During this time, Madam Kuang had sent hot food, but it was left untouched, blocked from reaching Chen Hongxu by the two-meter radius around him marked by Fan’s staff.

Suddenly, Fan Caobao seemed to sense something. He slowly opened his eyes, tapped the ground with his staff, then gracefully floated backward about ten meters.

A roar erupted—like a dragon or tiger—and within a five-meter radius around Chen Hongxu, sand and stones swirled violently. When the dust settled, deep, intricate marks crisscrossed the ground, chilling those who saw them.

Next came a crackling sound like bursting soybeans. Chen Hongxu’s finger twitched slightly. He opened his eyes, and his body inflated like a balloon, rising into the air.

Fan Caobao, noting the ground’s condition near Chen, secretly rejoiced in his foresight. But Chen, now floating, seemed intent on making trouble. He opened his mouth, releasing a burst of dark energy—purple in hue—that transformed into a massive sword, slowly flying toward Fan Caobao.

Recalling something, Fan Caobao’s face twisted bitterly. He lowered his body, spreading his legs wide into a posture resembling a horse stance, hands crossed in front of his face as if to shield himself.

The purple sword drifted slowly, almost as if it might fall. Finally, its tip struck Fan Caobao’s forearm. There was no loud noise—not even a sound. The sword began dissipating from the tip, vanishing like a thunderclap with no raindrops.

Fan Caobao’s face brightened. He silently thought, “Brother Chen still cares about me.” Just as he relaxed and prepared to lower his arms, the remnant of the purple sword—the blurry hilt alone—suddenly shot forward and exploded.

Storm clouds gathered. Fan Caobao’s planted foot scraped a three-meter mark behind him. His clothes shredded completely, leaving him disheveled and bedraggled.

Chen Hongxu, floating slightly, opened his eyes, landed firmly, and stood straight. A smirk crept onto his lips as he muttered, “Almost blew up my backside…”

Except for Six Sword, who looked solemn, most around couldn’t help but chuckle.

Six Sword’s grip on his sword hilt tightened until Madam Kuang cleared her throat. He shivered, then forcefully pressed his palm onto the sword’s hilt.

The sword sank into the ground, vanishing beneath the surface. From then on, Six Sword became Five Sword. Madam Kuang smiled approvingly. Though competition among sects in Martial Emperor City was fierce, talents like Six Sword were far from expendable.

Six Sword’s momentary loss of composure wasn’t due to the shock of Chen Hongxu’s sword strike, but because he sensed the presence of a Sword Immortal’s aura within the blade.

This was the key to his sudden breakthrough. Gazing at Chen Hongxu—who now had Fan Caobao’s neck in an embrace, repeatedly patting his head—Six Sword muttered, “Sword Immortal?”