Kapitel 7: Going to Hunt
With that being said, Lao Xie prepared himself before setting out towards the nearby forest in search of the demonic beast. He stepped out of his weathered hut to, heading towards the sect's gate, his eyes narrowing against the early morning light.
The air within the sect was crisp, carrying with it the scent of dew-kissed grass and the faint, metallic tang of sword qi that seemed to permeate everything here.
The sect sprawled across the mountain, its many towering peaks connected by intricate stone pathways that wove between the cliffs and forests, like veins pulsing with life.
White cranes soared across the sky, their graceful forms barely visible against the backdrop of the endless heavens. The peaks themselves were shrouded in silvery mist, giving the place an otherworldly aura.
Stone pavilions and grand halls dotted the landscape, their roofs curved like crescent moons, matching the sect's namesake. Glowing formations carved into the very stone reinforced the structures, providing protection from potential attacks.
Disciples in white and silver robes, their swords strapped proudly to their backs, walked the paths with purpose, heading towards the many training grounds scattered across the sect. Sword arts echoed faintly in the distance, sharp, precise, and relentless.
The sect had always been alive with the sound of clashing swords, a symphony of steel that had become as natural as the wind. For a place so focused on the art of the sword, naturally they have their own exclusive technique,
Small waterfalls cascaded down from higher peaks, their waters crystal clear and reflecting the light of the sun like a thousand tiny stars. The sect's outer disciples lived in humble huts scattered along the lower peaks, while the inner disciples resided in more elaborate quarters near the sect's heart.
Despite the sect's beautiful landscape, to Lao Xie, it all felt distant. There was a sense of belonging that he could never grasp. He glanced toward the sect's towering main hall in the distance, where the Sect Master resided.
The Sect Master... whose inexplicable interest in him still puzzled many, was a figure shrouded in mystery. But for Lao Xie, it mattered little. There was no bond between him and the Sect Master, no master-disciple relationship to speak of.
He could hardly consider the man a benefactor. Ever since Lao Xie had been brought here, all he had received were humiliation and disdain.
Silver Crescent Mountain Peak, that's the name of the sect Lao Xie currently resided in. It's renowned for its unparalleled sword arts, the Silver Crescent Sword Arts. It was a place where most powerful sword cultivators originate from.
At one point, the Sect Master , one of the strongest sword cultivators in the entire mortal realm had taken an inexplicable interest in Lao Xie. For reasons no one could fathom, the Sect Master had personally brought him to the sect, hoping to mold another prodigy.
But the talent-evaluation test shattered that hope. Lao Xie had been revealed to be nothing more than a talentless mortal.
After that incident, the Sect Master no longer spared him a glance, and no one could explain why Lao Xie hadn't been expelled from the sect altogether. Instead, he was allowed to remain, ignored by most, bullied by others.
Even now, no one understood the Sect Master's decision to bring him here. Not even the sect elders could guess his reasoning. Some of them had even advocated for his expulsion, but none dared to offend the Sect Master's decision. After all, in a place that valued talent above all, what use was a disciple with none?
This incident inevitably led to his current predicament, mocked and ridiculed by the other disciples. His lack of talent had earned him the nickname "Little Mortal," a title that followed him like a shadow wherever he went.
...
Few minutes passed by , as Lao Xie slowly approached the towering gates, a group of inner disciples stood guard, their silver-trimmed robes gleaming in the sunlight. They glanced at him with mild disinterest, but one of them stepped forward, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"Name and purpose?" the disciple said, his tone flat yet laced with superiority. In his hand, he held a logbook, its pages filled with neat, flowing script.
Lao Xie paused for a moment, locking eyes with the disciple. He knew this was nothing more than a formality, a tedious task they would rarely bother with for the more talented disciples.
"Please write your name here before leaving the sect," the disciple added, gesturing lazily toward the open page, an almost mocking smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
Unbothered by their attitudes, Lao Xie stepped forward and wrote his name and purpose in the logbook. "Lao Xie. Going to hunt."
As the ink dried on the page, the disciples exchanged amused glances. "Aren't you that famous guy?" one of them snickered.
"Famous? What do you mean?" the other asked, feigning ignorance.
The first disciple chuckled. "Seriously? You haven't heard? This is the infamous 'Little Mortal.' Everyone in the sect knows about him."
A ripple of laughter spread among the group. "So it's true," another disciple chimed in, his gaze raking over Lao Xie with exaggerated curiosity. "I always thought 'Little Mortal' was just some outer disciple rumor."
"This guy has quite the look for a mortal," the second disciple chuckled
The first disciple leaned closer, peering at Lao Xie with mock scrutiny. "Well, it's no rumor. Look at him, no cultivation base to speak of."
They laughed again, louder this time, their smirks cutting like blades. One of them sneered, "What kind of hunt is a 'Little Mortal' even capable of?"
Lao Xie remained silent, his expression unchanged as he finished writing his name. The mocking laughter of the disciples echoed behind him, but he paid it no mind. Without a word, he closed the logbook, handed it back to the disciple, and turned away.
His footsteps were steady as he began to walk toward the towering gates, the crisp mountain air brushing against his face. He didn't flinch or react to their taunts, his eyes fixed on the path ahead.
"Look at him!" one of the disciples called out, loud enough for Lao Xie to hear. "Walking away like he didn't hear us! Guess he's too proud to acknowledge his place."
Another disciple snickered, leaning against the gatepost. "Oh, 'Little Mortal,' make sure not to get yourself killed out there. After all, without a cultivation base, the forest can be… unforgiving."
More laughter followed, but Lao Xie continued on, his steps unfaltering as he passed through the gate. The world outside the sect seemed to open up before him, a vast expanse of forest stretching toward the horizon, filled with towering trees and the unseen danger of demonic beasts lurking within.
Behind him, the voices of the disciples still lingered in the air. "If he doesn't return, maybe the sect will finally get rid of that eyesore."
Another disciple chuckled. "If he does come back, though, it'll be a miracle. Maybe then we'll start calling him the 'Lucky Mortal.'"
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein