About the time it takes for a single stick of incense to burn, the plaza before the Scripture Pavilion was already filled.
More than a thousand Hale family disciples stood gathered outside the towering red-painted wooden doors.
From within the pavilion, faint spiritual energy seeped outward, drifting like mist and brushing against their faces. It was pure, dense, and steady. Just standing there, they could feel their breathing grow smoother.
Many swallowed unconsciously, eyes fixed on the doors, their expressions unable to conceal anticipation.
"The Saint Lord has arrived!" First Elder Cedric's voice boomed across the square.
The next instant, auspicious clouds descended from above.
Alex stepped down from the clouds, robes fluttering lightly, landing before the gathered disciples with calm composure.
"Greetings, Saint Lord!"
More than a thousand voices rang out in unison as the crowd dropped to one knee.
"Everyone, rise." Alex inclined his head slightly. His tone was steady and clear.
"First, this seat owes you an apology."
The square fell silent.
"In the past, I favored Isolde alone, pouring nearly all of the family's cultivation resources into her."
He paused briefly.
"The result was a vicious slap to my own face."
"Isolde is shameless and ungrateful. For the sake of a mere outsider, she dared to stand against the entire family."
"This seat has already stripped her of the Seven Orifices Divine Heart and expelled her from the Hale family."
He swept his gaze across the crowd.
"Juniors, over these years, you have endured many grievances."
"I offer you my deepest apology."
With that, Alex lowered his head slightly.
The disciples were immediately flustered.
"Saint Lord, please do not speak that way!"
"It was Isolde who was ungrateful and failed to live up to your favor!"
"This matter has nothing to do with you!"
Voices overlapped in hurried protest.
At the corner of Alex's mouth, a faint smile flickered.
This was the reaction he had anticipated.
He cleared his throat.
"But from this day forward, everything will change."
The noise subsided at once.
"Today, this seat makes you a promise."
"The Hale family will never produce a second Isolde."
"From now on, every child of the family will stand on equal footing and receive equal opportunity."
"Those with superior talent, and those who exert greater effort, will receive greater focus and cultivation."
"All family resources, including the Seven Orifices Divine Heart, will be distributed based on ability."
"Rewards shall follow merit."
"Your efforts and contributions will not escape my eyes. They will be remembered in my heart."
The crowd stirred.
Their eyes brightened, shoulders straightening instinctively.
In truth, they did not resent those with high aptitude receiving greater resources. For a family to flourish, it required both unity and exceptional talent.
The higher the aptitude, the greater the return on invested resources.
But Isolde had possessed mediocre aptitude and no exceptional talent. Yet because she was favored, she monopolized seventy percent of the family's cultivation resources.
More than a thousand disciples had watched as resources were forcibly piled upon her to artificially shape her into a so-called genius.
Even after hoarding so much, she never once showed gratitude. Instead, she looked down upon her peers as ants and trash. At the slightest displeasure, she beat and scolded them without restraint.
That was the root of their hatred.
Alex spoke again.
"Today, the reason this seat summoned you all to the Scripture Pavilion…"
His voice carried clearly across the square.
"…is to grant each of you an opportunity for meteoric rise."
"In a moment, the First Elder will open the doors."
"Each of you may freely choose one cultivation method from within."
"There will be no restriction on tier."
The words detonated like thunder.
The square erupted.
No restriction on tier.
The Hale family, as a Saint lineage, possessed deep foundations. Within the Scripture Pavilion were no small number of treasures. There were more than a dozen Heaven-tier cultivation methods alone.
In the past, those Heaven-tier techniques had been Isolde's exclusive domain. The rest of them had only been assigned Yellow-tier methods of ordinary power.
Now they could choose freely.
Every word the Saint Lord spoke appeared genuine.
Alex lifted a hand slightly, and the noise gradually settled.
"Do not celebrate too early."
His lips curved faintly.
"Merit must be rewarded. Fault must be punished."
"I will not make meaningless investments."
"After selecting your cultivation method, you will be given one month."
"Within that month, I must see tangible progress."
"You must advance by at least one minor realm."
"Those who exceed this requirement will receive heavy rewards from me."
"If you fail to meet it, your method will be confiscated, and you will be punished."
A heavy silence descended.
A young girl stepped forward slightly, her voice cautious.
"Saint Lord… if we fail, how will we be punished?"
"That depends on your greed," Alex replied calmly.
"Those who select a Yellow-tier method and fail will forfeit one month of resources and perform one month of hard labor."
"Profound-tier: three months of resources, three months of labor."
"Earth-tier: half a year of resources, half a year of labor."
"Heaven-tier: one year of resources, one year of labor."
As the details settled in, the fervor cooled.
Alex gave a soft chuckle.
"Why so lacking in ambition?"
"You think only of punishment if you fail."
"Why not consider the rewards if you surpass expectations?"
A young man's eyes lit up.
"Saint Lord, what will the reward be?"
"You will know once you achieve it."
Alex turned slightly toward Cedric.
"First Elder."
"Yes!"
"Open the pavilion doors."
"Yes!"
Cedric raised his hand and waved lightly.
The heavy red wooden doors creaked open.
A surge of pure spiritual energy flooded outward, cool and invigorating.
The disciples felt their minds clear and their spirits lift.
Without waiting further, they rushed forward.
In an instant, more than a thousand figures poured into the Scripture Pavilion.
Punishment was forgotten.
This was their first time entering freely. Rows upon rows of cultivation manuals lined the shelves, each radiating distinct fluctuations.
Heaven-tier techniques shimmered faintly atop high platforms.
Profound and Earth-tier methods were arranged in orderly stacks.
Everywhere they looked, opportunity.
They picked up one scroll, hesitated, set it down, grabbed another. Each seemed promising. Each seemed suited.
For a time, many were caught in indecision.
"Juniors, hurry," Cedric's voice echoed gently through the hall.
"In the time it takes for one incense stick to burn, this old man will close the doors."
Time pressed.
Hesitation vanished.
One by one, they finalized their choices.
Mindful of the Saint Lord's punishments, most did not dare overreach.
The majority selected Profound-tier cultivation methods compatible with their attributes, intending to replace their current Yellow-tier techniques.
A smaller number, those with higher aptitude and greater confidence, stepped toward the Earth-tier shelves.
Heaven-tier techniques were few, and only a handful dared even glance at them.
Those who chose Earth-tier methods already made silent vows.
For the next month, they would not step beyond their doors.
They would seal themselves within their cave abodes, cultivate day and night, and stake everything on this opportunity.
This was the turning point they had waited for.