Chapter 115 — A Wicked Nature

This cliff face was so smooth that one could scarcely find a foothold; to run up it was all but impossible!

Not every scholar had cultivated the art of flight, and to leap up it was exceedingly difficult. And these men were, besides, only of the Spirit Fetus and Five Luminaries realms; their cultivation was not yet sufficient, and they could not learn divine abilities.

This cliff face alone, one feared, would be enough to eliminate half the scholars.

Still, a fair number of scholars who had cultivated the art of flight began to fly up the cliff, passing this trial with ease — but they were, after all, a minority. Many others meant to sprint up the cliff, and without exception ended up sprawled against the rock, heads broken and bleeding. Those scholars who had never learned the art of flight frowned deeply.

Some sprang up, trying to leap onto the cliff, but the cliff was thirty or forty zhang high — who had a physique strong enough to leap up it in one bound? Most could leap only halfway before falling back down, and the scholars who fell were struck from the rolls by the middle-aged Daoist at the foot of the cliff and driven out of the gate.

"Climbing the cliff — is that so hard? " Wei Yong stepped forward and chuckled.

"You all think only of running up, jumping up, flying up — why has no one thought of hoisting himself up?

" Fat-faced and big-eared as he was, he was uncommonly nimble: he tethered his sword with a thread of vital essence, controlling the blade with his essence, and sent his sword flying up to the cliff top first. Wei Yong controlled ten threads of vital essence in succession, hooked them onto the cliff top, then gradually tightened them, hoisting himself up little by little to the summit; his plump palms gripped the rock, he rolled over onto the top, and waving down below, said, "Brother Shen, will you hoist yourself up too?

" "No need. " Shen Mu crouched, sinking almost to the ground, then the strength in his legs erupted, his vital essence erupted, and his body shot up with a whistle, leaping forty zhang high, landing with a boom beside Wei Yong. Wei Yong started in fright, glanced down, and said in amazement, "Brother, you cultivate the combat-technique school? Of course — you wield a saber. That skill in combat is truly formidable!

" Below the cliff, several hundred scholars stared, eyes gone wide.

The middle-aged Daoist nodded, made a stroke beside Shen Mu's name, wrote the word "Combat," and after Wei Yong's name wrote "Clever. " Wei Yong's method was quite the trick; the scholars below, inspired by him, found their own ideas one after another — some controlling their swords, others using other means to hook threads of vital essence onto the cliff, and so they could climb it.

More and more people gathered on the cliff top. Shen Mu and Wei Yong walked on.

Though this was Jade Peak, there were still mountain springs and plunging waterfalls, flowers and grasses, trees and woods — very secluded — and even birds and beasts; only, the birds and beasts of the mountain looked far from ordinary, monstrously huge, and often scaled and feathered, having doubtless absorbed the dragon aura of the nine dragon veins, and so been transformed.

"Scholars, halt! " They came to the first great hall of the Grand Academy.

The hall was exceedingly vast, a hundred zhang wide from side to side, so that the terrace before it was likewise immense, able to hold several thousand people. Shen Mu looked around; the divine-ability practitioners who had gone up the mountain earlier were not here.

Their trial, surely, was different from this one. Before the hall stood ninety-nine Daoists, and behind each Daoist stood a deity — a deity transmuted from his vital essence, with only an upper body and no lower, floating in the air, mighty and imposing. Formidable! The Grand Academy truly deserved its fame as the foremost holy ground and highest seat of learning under heaven!

These ninety-nine Daoists had still not reached the level of Fu Yundi, City Lord of Crimson Dragon.

The phantom of the eight-armed, eight-headed god behind Fu Yundi was fully manifested, as though substantial, terrifying beyond measure; plainly these Daoists were a grade or two below Fu Yundi. "But why are the deities transmuted from the vital essence of these ninety-nine Daoists all identical? " Shen Mu frowned. If an opponent had their measure, could he not kill them however he pleased?

"Such Daoists as these, Granny could kill ten of with one hand! " the youth thought.

The Imperial Preceptor of Jingping's promotion of the lesser and great schools had its drawbacks too: the martial arts and divine abilities taught were too uniform.

Shen Mu began to think that sects had their own merits after all — each sect and school had its own strengths and specialties, and their skills were wonderfully varied.

Of course, the lesser and great schools were still immensely useful: they kept more scholars from having their talents buried. After all, the sects of old took in only a few disciples, whereas now there were lesser and great schools everywhere, and men of talent came forth in abundance. The ninety-nine Daoists stood motionless; suddenly the deities transmuted from their vital essence drifted out from behind them and settled upon the round platforms before the hall.

The leading Daoist said in a deep voice, "Scholars from every region, in groups of ten, come forward in your ranks and unleash your strongest moves, each attacking the deity phantom before you!

Any means may be used — whether the way of gods, the way of demons, or the way of buddhas, employ them freely, no taboo!

The deity phantoms will attack you as well.

Of ten, one survives: the one left standing on the platform passes. " The scholars before the hall clamored. To withstand the deity phantoms' attacks, one of ten surviving — this trial was crueler still than the last.

The cliff trial had already eliminated half the scholars, and this one would eliminate nine out of ten! After a flurry of confusion, they divided into groups and took the platforms. Wei Yong hurried to put some distance between himself and Shen Mu, mounting a different platform.

Shen Mu stood on his platform; before long there were ten men on his round platform, and ten scholars on each of the other ninety-eight platforms as well. "Begin!

" shouted a Daoist. Scarcely had his voice fallen when on every round platform the ninety-nine deity phantoms stirred at once and attacked the scholars upon them; all of them defended themselves. Just then Shen Mu's movement technique was like a ghost's: he slipped past the deity phantom's attack and ran about the round platform, striking at long range and close in, and with nine thuds in succession nine figures flew out and tumbled off the platform. The scholars who shared his platform had not been knocked off by the deity phantom — he had knocked them all off himself!

On the platform, the deity phantom that had attacked Shen Mu abruptly halted, motionless. "You pass," said the leading Daoist in a deep voice, and the ninety-nine Daoists before the hall showed astonishment. Shen Mu bowed to him and stepped down from the platform.

The Daoist's face darkened slightly, and he said in a low voice to the Daoist beside him, "I observe that this youth's heart is not upright; there is something wicked in him.

Everyone else on the platform was joining forces against the deity phantom's attacks — he alone turned his hand against the others. " Even as he spoke, cries of alarm rose from the other round platforms: other scholars, following the example, dealt vicious blows to their platform-mates even under the deity phantoms' attacks, and within moments several hundred were forced off the platforms.

Soon the trial ended, with only a hundred or so remaining.