Chapter 3: Ravine of Tribulation

  Fel followed behind Thatcher alongside the rest of the Grade C talents, and the Grade D group, as the Elder had ordered, sparing a glance at the still unconscious group of children who had proven to be unsuitable for cultivation.

  He couldn’t help but contemplate their fate. Thatcher hadn’t killed them, nor had he given any orders to his disciples regarding their treatment.

  Did he just plan to leave them there as food for the beasts that would come? Once he got far enough, his presence would no longer be a deterrent.

  “I wouldn’t look back if I were you,” Thatcher spoke, addressing Fel, who was walking at the front of the group. “In the world of cultivation, it’s every man for himself. Demonic sect or not. The sooner you understand that fact, the better your chances are of making it here.”

  Thatcher led them through a split, rocky valley dimly lit by the seldom torch every now and then.

  Fel looked up, marveling at the sheer height of the stone walls that seemed to reach all the way up to the sky itself. If one were unfortunate enough to fall from the top, their chances of survival would be less than Fel’s if he tried to fight Thatcher and escape.

  “The rigid terrain around Uligo Valley, alongside the bountiful presence of beasts, is quite favorable to our sect. It makes it more troublesome for opposing cultivators to attack us.”

  He chuckled heartily. “Actually, almost all the geographically dangerous expanses in the Western Divide have at least one demonic sect residing there. They’re just hard to spot.”

  Noticing the awkward lack of reply from the youths, Thatcher could only hang his head and sigh. Just because he could eviscerate them all with a single breath didn’t mean they needed to be so dastardly.

  A few minutes later, they arrived at a large, underground open space. The lighting was a little better than before, making the place actually visible to everyone who wasn’t Thatcher.

  The place was rather damp, with many small puddles across the stone flooring. More likely than not, a result of water seeping through the cracks of the ravine they were in, rain was pretty much constant in Uligo Valley.

  The downpour was probably what resulted in the formation of the ravine itself, thanks to the erosion.

  At the rearmost end of the clearing were at least one hundred medium-sized pockets, each big enough for a person to crawl into as long as they hunched down a little.

  “All of you stand in front of me, in rows like you did before.” Thatcher stepped onto a stone platform with two large torches on the side, clasping his hands behind his back as everyone shuffled in messy ranks.

  After all, most of the people here were just peasants, not soldiers nor scholars. Thatcher didn’t expect any tangible level of organization from them.

  For now, he could tolerate them as long as they were obedient.

  “From now on, you are all External Disciples of the Bloondrend Sect, and thus will refer to me as Elder Thatcher from now on. You’re all going to be tested to see if you’re deserving of properly entering our sect as an Outer Disciple, or if your aptitude for cultivation is wasted on you.”

  There was still a distinct sense of bitterness in Thatcher’s tone. The idea of only testing Grade D and C talents, and letting Grade B’s and A’s enter the inner sect immediately didn’t sit well with him.

  Not because he had some noble sense of fairness, but because he believed it’d result in an influx of weak-willed Virth Lords in the Bloondrend Sect. A personality trait that didn’t mix well with demonic cultivation.

  But ultimately, that was all just part of an old man’s ideology. The Sect Leader’s orders were absolute, and disobeying them wouldn’t end well for him.

  Thatcher spread his arms wide. “This is the Ravine of Tribulation, your home for the next 6 months. A final exam will be conducted once that time has concluded; those who pass will be properly inducted into the sect, and those who don’t—well, they won’t have any further use.”

  Immediately, all of the children, now External Disciples, exchanged nervous glances with one another. However, none of them dared to speak up in fear of facing retribution at the hands of their Elder.

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  “I’m only going to debrief you all once, so I suggest you pay close attention.” He pointed to the small caves behind them. “In those caves, you will find four things.”

  He started to hold out his fingers in conjunction with his words.

  “One, a wooden bucket.”

  “Two, a random weapon we gave you from our lesser arsenal.”

  “Three, a guide on how to use said weapon.”

  “And lastly, a cultivation manual.”

  ‘I get the other three, but what’s the wooden bucket for?’ Fel scratched his temple.

  He assumed it was for taking a dump or something, but he highly doubted a demonic sect would be so caring.

  “Virth Lords are ranked from one to nine. However, there is technically a rank zero. Or the Preparatory Realm, if you will, that is the realm you will all cultivate during these six months.”

  “This realm is all about preparing the body for the formation of a core component that every Virth Lord has, but that’s not something you need to worry about until you’ve actually reached the last stage of the realm.”

  Fel’s attention was now laser-focused on Thatcher, his ears absorbing every last syllable from his mouth.

  After all, he had extremely good reason to believe this would determine his survival. The more well-informed he was, the higher his chances of survival.

  “There are four stages to the Preparatory Realm: the Flesh Stage, the Viscera Stage, the Bone Stage, and the Blood Stage. Even though you all have six months to cultivate here, I’d highly suggest you all reach the Viscera Stage within three months.”

  Looks of confusion ensued as Thatcher pointed to a strange, light-grayish piece of rock sticking out of the ravine’s wall, emanating a faint glow.

  “That’s a mineral called Kryon, which we refine to create weapons and armor. Now Kryon doesn’t harm us Virth Lords, however, to mortals—it can prove fatal while in its raw form.”

  He smirked, enjoying the looks of fear he was witnessing.

  “You see, Kryon naturally emits Chaotic Virth from within its composition, which will act as a slow-acting poison to each and every one of you, unless you can make it to the Viscera Stage in three months. Allowing your lungs alongside the rest of your organs to harness Virth, thus protecting your respiratory system, ah, wait, I doubt any of you know what that is.”

  He stopped himself, sheepishly scratching his cheek.

  “The point is, this ravine is full of Kryon. And if you don’t reach the Viscera Stage in time, you’ll die. Oh, and don’t even think about trying to break the Kryon. You’d have to be a rank one Virth Lord to even dent it.”

  Obviously, no one actually knew what the Viscera Stage was yet, but that was what the cultivation manuals were for.

  “Other than that, I don’t think there’s anything else I need to mention. Well, I am old, so it’s highly probable I’m forgetting something.” He shrugged, instilling a deep unease in all the External Disciples.

  “There are no rules you need to follow down here. If you want, you can even try to make a run for it. There are no guards stationed around the ravine most of the time.”

  After witnessing the fate of those who had tried to escape before the talent examination had begun, it was safe to say nobody would be entertaining that idea.

  Becoming beast-food really wasn’t a great way to go.

  “One last thing, our esteemed Sect Leader can be quite whimsical. So don’t be too surprised if you get a random exam during these six months. Any questions?”

  One disciple raised their hand.

  “Yes?”

  “What about food?”

  Fel nodded inwardly, sharing their concern.

  “You’ll have to figure that out for yourself, I mean, there’s always the option of trying to hunt the beasts out there if you get desperate enough.” He laughed coldly.

  In this world, animals and beasts were different. The same way a mortal and a Virth Lord couldn’t be compared to one another.

  A normal predator could be hunted by a group of hunters or by one exceptionally adept hunter.

  But a beast like the enlarged jaguars that were pulling the carriage could easily wipe out a hundred mortals without breaking a sweat. The advantage of a beast’s ability to harness Virth put it on a completely different level.

  Most villages, like Typhon Village, Fel’s home, were always settled away from beast territory since they’d all become nothing more than lambs to the slaughter in a beast’s presence.

  “Any other questions?”

  Fel raised his hand.

  “Yeah?”

  “Is there any risk of the beasts coming here?” Beasts aside, even normal animals, mammals especially, tended to have an extraordinary sense of smell.

  They might have picked up on the scent of all the External Disciples entering the ravine.

  “No, even though there are barely any guards stationed around the ravine. There’s a ward set up here that'll prevent beasts from entering, unless an Elder Beast decides to attack. But I highly doubt that’ll happen.” He replied, without elaborating on what an “Elder Beast” even was.

  Although, if it was something that even Thatcher was worried about, then one could make a pretty good assumption of what kind of threat such a being posed.

  “Anywho. I’m not interested in dawdling here any longer than I need to.” He groaned after enduring an extremely taxing session of answering two whole questions. “You all can sort yourselves out, you won’t hear from me until something significant is announced.”

  Swoosh!

  A forceful gust of wind blew against the faces of the External Disciples, blowing their hair back as they shielded their eyes, reflexively shielding themselves from the oncoming dust.

  And by the time everyone had gathered themselves, Thatcher was long gone.

  They all started to look at one another awkwardly for a while, but soon enough, the next move was clear. They needed to pick out a cave for themselves and get to work as soon as possible.

  They had three months to make it to the “Viscera Stage”, otherwise they’d perish. And thanks to the intrinsic human will to survive, nobody was interested in meeting such an end.

  It was time for them to set foot on the path of a Virth Lord, whether they liked it or not.