In the boundless void of the Wasteland Realm, high above the clouds, floated an island suspended in midair.
Above that floating island stood a colossal gate, forged entirely of countless interwoven runes. The gate was so immense that even a mountain-sized being could have passed through it with ease.
At its center churned a massive spatial vortex, endlessly rotating and radiating a faint, golden brilliance.
Zheng Qiu stood quietly beneath that swirling portal, waiting.
Before long, ripples spread across the vortex's surface, and several figures emerged from within, stepping into the world like celestial beings descending from another realm.
At their head was a middle-aged man who appeared to be around forty years old, dressed in flowing scholar's robes. His demeanor was refined and serene, yet a deep, invisible pressure surrounded him, marking him as someone of extraordinary cultivation and status.
"Master Hu!" Zheng Qiu's voice trembled slightly as he greeted the man, his expression full of excitement.
The refined middle-aged man smiled faintly. "Zheng Qiu, how have you been faring in the Myriad Phenomena Dao Academy?"
"Naturally, not nearly as well as you, Master," Zheng Qiu replied respectfully.
"The Myriad Phenomena Dao Academy was indeed wise to act swiftly and be the first to establish itself within the Wasteland Realm," Master Hu said mildly. "Unfortunately, from what I've seen, its foundation still lacks depth. It may find it difficult to truly capitalize on this opportunity."
Zheng Qiu's eyes flickered with subtle intrigue. "That may have been true before, but now… perhaps not."
"Oh?" Master Hu arched a brow. "Are you saying something significant has happened within the Myriad Phenomena Dao Academy recently—something even I don't know about?"
"That's right," Zheng Qiu said with quiet confidence. "Within the Academy, I've discovered an entirely new path of the Alchemy Dao."
"A new path?" Master Hu chuckled. "And what kind of nonsense is that supposed to be?"
"This new path speaks of 'using the heart as the cauldron and intent as the flame.' It teaches that 'the essence of the Alchemy Dao lies in resonating with heaven and earth and aligning with one's true heart.' It claims that all things under heaven can become medicine, that the sun, moon, and stars are all forms of fire, and that countless books are in truth pill formulas," Zheng Qiu said with growing enthusiasm. "It's a profoundly mysterious philosophy."
Master Hu laughed, shaking his head. "Zheng Qiu, you're a man of some alchemical skill yourself. Do you actually believe such mystical talk?"
"It's not about belief or disbelief," Zheng Qiu replied seriously. "Because this path has already been realized by someone."
He then recounted in detail what had transpired with Yang Cheng.
When Zheng Qiu finished, Master Hu's expression hardened, his calm demeanor fading into one of deep contemplation. "Something like that truly happened?"
"It's not just me who saw it. Thousands of disciples of the Myriad Phenomena Dao Academy witnessed it firsthand," Zheng Qiu said earnestly.
"Hmph. Then I'll have to see this for myself," Master Hu said, his skepticism barely concealed.
Half a day later, at the Alchemy Academy's Grand Lecture Hall of the Myriad Phenomena Dao Academy, the air was alive with noise and excitement.
The hall was packed—scholars, cultivators, envoys, and experts from the Horn Constellation Realm and the Azure Jade Realm all gathered beneath the vast vaulted ceiling.
Soon, Li Xiang, the Chancellor of the Academy, ascended the stage to personally welcome the visiting dignitaries.
Many of the Wasteland Realm's cultivators were awestruck. For most of them, this was their first time seeing so many domain-level powerhouses gathered together in one place.
To them, these people were like gods descended from the heavens.
Yang Cheng understood their feelings well.
He remembered the first time he had stood before the prodigies of the Myriad Worlds—it had felt as though he were nothing more than a speck of dust before the stars, a helpless ant in the shadow of giants.
One by one, the Academy's Masters took to the stage, each sharing their insights on their respective Daos.
Only those who possessed true mastery could stand before such an audience.
The first to step forward was the Sword Academy's Dean, Lu Mingyuan.
Outside, rain had begun to fall, the storm drumming against the green-tiled roof like shattered jade.
Lu Mingyuan stood tall with his hands clasped behind his back. His plain white Dao robe fluttered in the draft that swept through the hall, faint patterns glimmering across the fabric like waves of light.
He brushed a hand lightly across the hilt of his bronze sword, and the blade sang with a resonant hum—like a dragon's roar. The sound rippled through the hall, shaking the hearts of everyone present.
"My Sword Dao," Lu Mingyuan said solemnly, "is the Dao of Balance—the Sword of the Middle Way."
He raised his sword toward the heavens, and the rain itself froze in midair, droplets transforming into tiny crystals of ice as the sword's aura swept across the hall.
"Too much rigidity leads to breaking. Too much softness leads to collapse. The sword must walk seven parts forward and leave three parts behind; strength must reach six parts and hide four parts within, for therein lies vitality. It is like this storm..."
The ice crystals suddenly shattered, breaking apart into countless fine threads of rain that drifted back into the sky.
"Only by knowing how to release and restrain freely," Lu Mingyuan's calm voice echoed through the grand hall, "can one truly reach completion."
The sword cultivators below were deeply moved, their hearts stirred. One by one, they fell silent in reverence.
But at that moment, a sharp sound of clashing metal split the air.
A rusted iron sword streaked down from above and embedded itself deep into the center of the platform with a resounding clang.
A man in gray robes rose slowly from his seat. His white hair was tangled and wild like ink-strokes gone mad. A strip of black cloth covered his left eye, while his right eye gleamed with a frightening, blade-like light.
"That's the Iron Sword Dao Sword God, Li Qiudao!" someone exclaimed in shock.
Li Qiudao was not a true god, yet he had slain one—hence the name, "Sword God."
"Utter nonsense!"
Li Qiudao's hoarse laughter exploded through the hall, loud enough to scatter the crows roosting outside. "If your Sword Dao seeks balance, then you might as well toss away your sword and go plow the fields!"
He flicked his finger toward the iron sword. The blade trembled violently, then floated up, hovering in midair before him.
"Look closely," he said coldly. "This sword has fought beside me through ninety-nine battles against powerful foes. Its edge is chipped into jagged teeth, its tip has been broken seven times. Yet every time, I reforged it, again and again! And still, it knows the meaning of Sword Dao far better than those so-called divine blades you worship in your shrines!"
Lu Mingyuan's pupils contracted sharply.
That rusted sword, though covered in scars and cracks, glowed with a brilliance that forced all eyes upon it. Each fracture pulsed with a sharp, wild intent, radiating killing will that chilled the blood.
"The Sword Dao," Li Qiudao roared, "is like raging fire—it exists to burn all things to ash!"
He swung his sword outward, cleaving toward the sky. A crimson arc of light more than ten zhang (about 33 feet) long exploded forth, slicing the rainstorm clean in half.
"You speak of leaving three parts reserved?" he sneered. "I'll strike with ten out of ten in ruthless force! You preach of hiding four parts of vitality? I'll fight with every ounce of my life and hold nothing back!"
The disciples below staggered backward, nearly choking as the suffocating sword intent pressed down upon them.
Lu Mingyuan's expression grew solemn. His sword left its sheath by three inches before he slowly slid it back in. "Sir, to cling to an extreme path like that—how could it last long?"
"Shut your mouth!"
Li Qiudao sneered, his voice dripping with scorn. "You pampered Dao Academy nobles, do you even know where true Sword Dao is born? It's born on mountains of corpses and seas of blood! While you were inside your Academy playing with sword forms, I was outside biting through an enemy's throat with my own teeth!"
His single eye swept across the crowd, his wild laughter shaking the rafters. "A 'Balanced Sword Dao'? Ha! Nothing but a coward's excuse!"
The rain poured harder, blurring their figures into two black silhouettes facing each other amid the storm.
Lu Mingyuan's gaze lingered on the scars carved across Li Qiudao's body. He suddenly recalled an old rumor.
This man—once a peerless genius of the sword—had slaughtered an entire sect of thousands after killing a true god, and in that madness, he had destroyed one of his own eyes. From that day forward, he walked the path of the Blazing Sword Dao.
Lu Mingyuan wanted to argue back, but the oppressive weight of Li Qiudao's sword intent crushed his voice before he could even speak.
"Today is merely an exchange of Daos," Li Xiang, the Chancellor, said quickly, stepping forward to mediate. "Let's not take things too far."
With that, he managed to ease the tension. Still, after witnessing such a clash, he dared not invite any more lecturers from other academies.
Instead, he went straight to the next name on the list—Yang Cheng.
"The one lecturing for the Alchemy Academy isn't Chen Jimin?" someone said in surprise. "It's… such a young man?"
"Perhaps this one is special," another murmured.
Yang Cheng walked calmly up the platform, his every step steady and measured.
Below the stage, Master Hu leaned toward Zheng Qiu and asked quietly, "That young man—is he Yang Cheng?"
"Yes," Zheng Qiu nodded.
"Interesting," Master Hu chuckled, his lips curling into a faintly mocking smile. "That nonsense you told me about—'heart as the cauldron, intent as the flame'—I don't believe a single word of it. Clearly, he's using some clever illusion or trickery. But since I'm here today, such deception won't go unexposed."
He then turned to Zheng Qiu with a teasing glint in his eyes. "Zheng Qiu, we've known each other for years. Next time you don't like someone, just tell me directly. There's no need to play games behind my back."
Zheng Qiu's face stiffened. His lips pressed tightly together as he lowered his head.
Indeed, he had intentionally exaggerated Yang Cheng's abilities, hoping to provoke Master Hu into turning against him.
But clearly, his petty ploy had been seen through.
'So what if he's seen through it,' Zheng Qiu thought coldly to himself. 'As long as Master Hu embarrasses Yang Cheng later, my goal will still be achieved.'