The Author's Draft-Chapter 49: Sword Ascension Platform III

"That’s me," Long Chen replied.

She picked up the token carefully, almost reverently, and examined it more closely. Then she set it down and looked at him again, her expression shifting.

"You’re the anomaly," she said.

"Anomaly?"

"Yes, the only qi acquisition in the inner domain, one of the five survivors."

"Five?" Long Chen asked, though he had a feeling he knew where this was going.

"Five students who made it back to the sect on their own during the recruitment exercise." She leaned forward slightly, her earlier boredom completely gone. "Across all regions—not just ours—only five people managed to reach the sect without following an elder back."

Long Chen raised an eyebrow. "That few?"

"The mountain range is three hundred kilometers of Fourth and Fifth Rank spirit beasts," she said, her tone making it clear she thought he was insane for attempting it. "Most disciples chose the safe route. Smart choice, honestly. Survival over pride."

She paused, studying him.

"But you didn’t take the safe route. Neither did the other four. So either you’re all extremely talented, extremely reckless, or extremely lucky."

"Maybe all three," Long Chen said.

The woman snorted, a slight smile appearing on her face for the first time. "Fair enough."

She pulled out a scroll from one of the drawers and made a note with quick, practiced strokes. Then she reached into another drawer and pulled out a small pouch, setting it on the desk between them.

"Two hundred contribution points," she said. "Your reward for making it back independently."

Long Chen picked up the pouch. It was heavier than it looked, the weight of the tokens inside shifting slightly. Two hundred points. That was... significant, probably.

"Contribution points give you access to sect facilities," the woman explained, settling back into what was clearly a rehearsed speech. "The Treasure Hall, the Technique Repository, and the Tower. You can also use them to purchase pills, weapons, and cultivation resources from the Sect Exchange."

"The Tower?" Long Chen asked, focusing on the one thing that had caught his attention.

The woman nodded. "You haven’t heard of it?"

"Just arrived at the sect," Long Chen said. "Still getting familiar with everything."

"Right, fair." She leaned back in her chair, her expression becoming thoughtful. "The Tower is... well, no one really knows where it came from. Just that one day, about two hundred years ago, towers started appearing all over the world. Different sects, different clans, different regions. Everyone has one."

"And what’s inside?" Long Chen asked.

"Trials, challenges, tests of combat, cultivation, and comprehension." She shrugged. "The rewards are supposed to be incredible—techniques, treasures, pills. But here’s the thing—the towers only accept people under twenty-five years old. And in the hundreds of years since they appeared, no one has ever cleared one completely."

Long Chen felt a flicker of recognition. The Tower of Trials back in the Dugu Clan, the voice he’d heard on the seventh floor.

*You are not yet worthy.*

"How many floors?" Long Chen asked.

"No one knows. The highest anyone’s gotten in our sect’s tower is the fifteenth floor. That was a core disciple fifty years ago—someone at Core Formation Realm. He made it to fifteen and couldn’t go further." She looked at Long Chen seriously. "If you’re thinking of trying it, be careful. The tower doesn’t kill you, but it can injure you badly. People have come out with broken bones, shattered cultivation bases, and spiritual damage."

Long Chen nodded slowly, processing that. Fifteen floors, core Formation Realm. That meant the tower scaled with your strength.

"How do I earn more contribution points?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Sect missions. The Mission Hall posts tasks daily—everything from gathering spirit herbs in the mountains to hunting specific spirit beasts to escorting sect merchants to nearby cities." She pulled out a thin pamphlet from under her desk and handed it to him. "This explains the point system in detail. Easy missions give you ten to twenty points, difficult missions can give you hundreds, dangerous missions can give you thousands, but... well, they’re dangerous for a reason."

Long Chen took the pamphlet and tucked it into his robe. "Understood. Thank you."

The woman nodded and handed his token back. "Classes start tomorrow at dawn. Your instructor’s name and location will be sent to your token tonight. Don’t be late."

"I won’t."

Long Chen turned to leave, but the woman called out to him.

"Hey."

He stopped and looked back.

She was watching him with an expression that was hard to read—part curiosity, part warning.

"You made it through three hundred kilometers of spirit beast territory on your own at Qi Gathering Realm," she said. "That’s impressive, really impressive. But don’t let it go to your head. The sect is full of people who were prodigies in their clans and cities. Here, you’re just another talented disciple. Remember that."

Long Chen met her gaze and nodded. "I’ll keep that in mind."

She seemed satisfied with that and went back to her paperwork.

Long Chen stepped outside the pavilion and into the courtyard.

The sun was starting to set, casting long shadows across the stone paths. Other disciples were moving about, heading to the dining halls or back to their abodes. The atmosphere was still buzzing from Elder Shen’s announcement.

Long Chen took a breath, about to head back to his cave—

"Hey. Long Chen."

He stopped.

The voice came from behind him, sharp and unfriendly.

Long Chen turned slowly.

Five men blocked his path.

They were all inner disciples, judging by their robes. Mid-twenties, maybe. Their cultivation levels ranged from Qi Gathering Stage 7 to Stage 9—higher than his, at least on paper.

And their expressions were hostile.

The one in the center stepped forward. He was broad-shouldered with a scar running across his left cheek, the kind of scar that looked like it came from a blade. His hair was tied back in a rough ponytail, and his hands were already resting on the hilt of his sword.

"We need to talk," Scarface said, his voice low and threatening.

Long Chen looked at them, then glanced around the courtyard. It was nearly empty now—most disciples had already left. The administrative building was behind him, but the woman inside probably wouldn’t interfere in disciple conflicts. That wasn’t her job.

Convenient timing.

"About what?" Long Chen asked, his tone flat and uninterested.

Scarface grinned, but there was no humor in it. His eyes were cold.

"About you thinking you’re special."