Chapter 117: Destination Reached

  As the ship sailed steadily through the boundless sky, its hull creaking faintly beneath the pressure of the wind, Xu Mo stood near the edge of the deck, his robes fluttering softly. His gaze was locked ahead—where the clouds thinned and the mist began to scatter like a veil peeling back to reveal something ancient.

  There, above the drifting layers of sky, a faint silhouette emerged. At first, it seemed like a mirage—a trick of light and altitude. But as the ship drew closer, the truth took shape.

  Verdant Sky Hall.

  Suspended far above the mortal world, it hovered like an immortal sanctuary between heaven and earth. Massive terraces floated on interconnected landmasses—shards of mountain peaks that had been sliced clean and sealed in midair. They glowed with gentle green light, like jade buried in moonlight. Waterfalls spilled from the edges—not downwards, but outwards—drifting in slow motion into nothingness before vanishing into glittering mist.

  At its heart stood the main hall—an awe-inspiring structure carved of living wood and crystalline stone, its towering rooflines curved like the wings of a celestial beast in flight. Verdant tiles shimmered beneath the sun, catching light in hues of silver and emerald, while enormous wind chimes hung from every corner, turning sound itself into a subtle melody only cultivators could hear. The air around it shimmered, not from heat, but from spiritual density. Even from a distance, the pressure was tangible, as if the entire realm around the Hall bowed to its presence.

  A formation circle—vast enough to contain a city—gently spun beneath the floating isles, pulsing with quiet, divine energy. It was clear even to the lowest outer disciple: what floated before them was not merely a place, but a statement.

  A declaration of authority.

  As the ship slowly descended toward the designated docking peak, Xu Mo kept watching, silent as always. The others were awestruck, pointing and whispering among themselves. But he only narrowed his eyes slightly, as if measuring the weight of the sky itself.

  Verdant Sky Hall.

  A place where secrets lingered above the clouds.

  Xu Mo also noticed ten more ships the same size as theirs docking, and behind them, at a quick glance, there were hundreds—perhaps more—of smaller-sized ships speeding up, trying to catch up.

  Xu Mo was once again surprised to see so many cultivators. Before, when he was still in the village, he had never even come into contact with—or even heard—the term cultivator. And now, seeing so many, he began to wonder whether mortals truly outnumbered immortals, or if the opposite was true.

  “Beautiful, right?” Wei Rong asked. In truth, he was merely trying to express his excitement to someone close to him.

  Xu Mo could only nod in response. Before, just the scale of the Hidden Dragon Sect had been enough to awe him, but now—after seeing the real king, or even emperor, among sects—he finally understood the saying: a frog at the bottom of a well.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “What are you two still dawdling there for? Quickly, get off. The Head Elder and the other elders are gathering everyone.” Mei Xueyin walked opposite the flow of disciples who were heading toward the exit, calling out to both of them.

  Wei Rong and Xu Mo glanced at each other and quickly followed suit.

  Even though more than a hundred disciples were now gathered on the peak where every ship had docked, it didn’t feel crowded at all. From a distance, it had seemed large, but the strange thing was— as they got closer, the big became massive, and the massive became vast.

  The peaks weren’t placed at equal altitude. Some were higher, some hovered lower—yet still far beyond the reach of any mortal. They were connected by humongous chains, built from some unknown material strong enough to keep the entire structure intact. Xu Mo grew curious—if the chains one day vanished, would each of these peaks fly apart in different directions, or would they fall back to the earth and become one with nature again?

  The Hall Above the Peaks.

  Xu Mo thought that name truly captured this place’s essence.

  “Hidden Dragon Sect disciples, group up! Outer Sect disciples in front, Inner Sect disciples in the back,” one of the elders shouted. This formation had been chosen to protect the weaker disciples of the sect, in case they encountered disciples from another sect. The Inner Sect disciples were strong—most of them already in the middle to late stages of the Foundation Building Realm.

  The air was thin atop the docking peak—one of many jagged stone platforms that jutted out along the edges of Verdant Sky Hall, suspended high above the clouds like a fortress resting on the sky itself.

  Xu Mo stood at the edge of the cliff, the wind tugging at his robes as he looked out over the endless expanse of mist and shifting light. Behind him, the disciples of the Hidden Dragon Sect filled the narrow mountain terrace, murmurs rising as they stared at the ethereal silhouette of Verdant Sky Hall—its jade-colored towers gleaming like gemstones in the sun, its suspended bridges arching between cloud-wrapped pavilions like strands of silk.

  The air hummed faintly with immortal energy.

  Not far from where Xu Mo stood, a tall elder in gray-blue robes raised his hand, instantly silencing the gathered crowd. His voice rang out—calm but authoritative—echoing across the docking peak.

  “The Secret Realm opens in two days. From this moment on, disciples of the Hidden Dragon Sect will be assigned to teams. These assignments are final.”

  There was a beat of tension—some held their breath, others glanced sideways at their peers.

  “Outer Sect disciples, step forward.”

  Fifty figures moved as one—Xu Mo among them—forming neat lines beneath the elder’s gaze.

  “You are seedlings—untested and unproven. But this realm does not open for the sake of elites alone. You have potential… and potential must be forged in fire.”

  The elder’s eyes shifted to the gathered Inner Sect disciples—more than a hundred in number, their auras restrained, yet unmistakably powerful.

  “Half of you—those ranked highest in strength and performance—will each lead a team of four Outer Sect disciples. Your task is to guide them. Lead them. Protect them, if you must. Or sacrifice them, if the greater mission requires it. Do not forget: the Secret Realm rewards the brave, not the sentimental.”

  There was a slight stir at that. No one protested.

  “The remaining fifty Inner Sect disciples will form teams of their own. You will go deeper—toward the core zones of the realm. Danger awaits, but so do the highest chances for enlightenment and treasure.”

  Then came the part everyone had anticipated.

  “Two elite teams will operate independently. The Saintess’ team, and the True Successor’s team. They will not be assigned. They will choose.”

  A subtle ripple moved through the crowd—envy, awe, and tension coiling into one.

  Xu Mo’s eyes narrowed slightly. He knew his name wouldn’t be called among the elite. He also knew that wouldn’t stop him.

  Behind him, clouds drifted around the peak like slow-moving tides, brushing against the carved railings and ancient stone. Above, Verdant Sky Hall watched silently, like a divine being peering down on those who sought to climb toward its mystery.

  The team formation had begun.