Hua Yuntian's face was beyond livid.
He'd realized that ever since joining the Primordial Beginning Sect, he hadn't had a single good day.
Endless frustrations dogged him within the sect, his Dao heart teetering on the brink of collapse more than once.
When he'd finally gotten out for a breath of fresh air, he'd been gawked at and mocked by a crowd of nobodies.
These ants!
His fists clenched so tight his knuckles whitened. If only his strength were not so diminished, he would have slapped every last one of the onlookers into pulp on the spot!
It was in this moment—amid the uproarious laughter and Hua Yuntian's unbearable frustration—that a thin, frail figure stumbled out from a nearby pile of stinking beggars.
It was a young girl, about eight or nine years old. Her small face was caked in grime, her original complexion all but hidden; her hair was dry, yellow, and matted, her clothes tattered rags.
Her eyes were hollow and lifeless, drained of all color, holding nothing but an icy cold that seeped to the bone and a stubbornness bordering on obsession.
In her arms, she clutched a tattered cloth doll, its original form unrecognizable.
The doll was black with dirt, one arm hanging by a thread, held fast in her tiny, thin fingers.
Under the numb gazes of the surrounding refugees, the girl took shaky, unsteady steps forward until she reached the Primordial Beginning Sect's stall.
She tilted her grimy little face up, her empty, lifeless eyes fixing unblinkingly on Jiang Ling, and spoke in a hoarse, raspy voice:
"Can a mortal really become a disciple? If I learn skills, can I find my brother?"
Jiang Ling looked into those eyes, and his heart—calm as an unmoving well for eight hundred years—rippled as if a stone had been cast into it.
That lifeless, stubborn gaze left him momentarily dazed.
"You can."
Jiang Ling's voice held a softness he himself did not notice. "Enter my Primordial Beginning Sect, and with a sincere heart, you may tread the path of the Dao. As for your brother—if he is still in this world, you will find him one day."
A faint glimmer flickered in the girl's hollow eyes, and she hugged the tattered doll even tighter.
"I... Ye Qingshuang... wish to join the Primordial Beginning Sect."
She spoke each word slowly and clearly, with unshakable resolve.
"Good!"
Jiang Ling stood up. "From this day forth, you are a disciple of the Primordial Beginning Sect!"
Ye Qingshuang's acceptance into the sect was like a stone cast into a stagnant pond.
Among the numb refugees, faint sparks of hope ignited in many eyes.
If this tiny, scrawny little girl could join an immortal sect, surely they could too!
And there was silver to be earned—far better than those sects that only treated them like slaves.
Most of all, sects like these never took in people like them, who wallowed in the muck of the mortal world.
A fool this generous was a once-in-a-lifetime chance—they would not let it slip away!
"Immortal Master! Immortal Master! Take me in! I can work!"
"Immortal Master! I'm almost fifty, but I'm strong, and my heart is sincere!"
"Immortal Master! I—I think I can sense a spirit root! Please check for me!"
In an instant, dozens of refugees swarmed forward, surrounding Jiang Ling's shabby little stall so tightly not a breath of air could pass through.
Hua Yuntian was jostled to and fro, his brocade robe smudged with several black, grubby handprints. His face turned as black as the bottom of a cauldron.
Damned ants!
Chirp! Chirp!
How dare these mortals jostle the senior brother!
Jincancan's feathers were nearly ruffled out of place. It let out two angry cries, but the crowd was in a frenzy and paid it no heed. Defeated, it fluttered to a higher perch.
The Scarlet Sun Demon Sage stepped back silently, his brows furrowed, fighting the urge to send all these annoying ants flying with a single burst of power.
Jiang Ling, however, was unfazed. He stood up and swept his gaze over the crowd.
He hadn't brought the Jade Capital Heavenly Stairway down the mountain with him, but he was a man with a system!
[Ding! Faint Four Spirit Roots detected. Ding! Faint Five Spirit Roots detected. Ding! Faint Three Spirit Roots detected...]
Jiang Ling's heart leaped for joy. He hadn't expected there to be such hidden gems among them.
Spirit roots of any kind were better than none!
With immortal-tier techniques at his disposal, even a pig could ascend to immortality.
And these people had actual spirit roots—they would sense spiritual energy far faster than ordinary mortals.
Hua Yuntian's veins bulged on his forehead, his teeth gritted so hard they creaked. He longed to tear the crowd to shreds.
He, a former Tribulation Transcending powerhouse, had been reduced to sharing the same sect as beggars.
This was a humiliation beyond measure!
The onlookers pointed and snickered, their mockery loud and unbridled.
It was plain to see—these refugees were all the dregs discarded by other sects.
Either they were mortals with no spirit roots at all, or their spirit roots were so weak they would likely never even manage to draw in spiritual energy in their lifetime.
Besides, the Border Wasteland was already barren of spiritual energy and resources. No sect would waste their precious treasures on such worthless rejects.
But Jiang Ling didn't care.
Sticking to his principle of sheer numbers, he waved a hand and picked eight more refugees—men and women, aged from fifteen to forty—who looked somewhat tolerable.
"Alright! Quotas are full! Packing up!"
Jiang Ling clapped his hands, ignoring the disappointed looks of the remaining refugees.
"Hahaha! This is priceless! One, two, three... nine worthless rejects! Is your Primordial Beginning Sect planning to start a farm?!"
Elder Hao doubled over with laughter nearby, pointing at Jiang Ling's new disciples and sneering with all his might.
"Exactly! You even counted that bald loser, didn't you? Hahaha! Baldy! I'm talking to you! Stop playing dead!"
Yun Chen of the Cloud Mist Sect pointed at the Scarlet Sun Demon Sage again, his mocking laughter ringing out loud and clear.
Boom!
The word baldy was like a spark to a powder keg.
The Scarlet Sun Demon Sage's pent-up humiliation and anger—gathered over days of torment—erupted in an instant, like a volcano dormant for ten thousand years.
Screw this!
Screw the pact between humans and demons! He couldn't take another second of this!
"Ants... how dare you insult me!!"
A roar, suppressed to the breaking point, exploded from his throat.
He spun around in an instant, his blood-red eyes locking onto Yun Chen.
Boom!
The Scarlet Sun Demon Sage took a single step, the ground cracking beneath his feet. His figure blurred like a ghost, appearing before Yun Chen in the blink of an eye. As Yun Chen's smile froze on his face, the demon sage seized his head in one hand!
"No..."
Yun Chen managed only a single word.
Crack!
A sickening crunch of bone echoed clearly through the square—like a ripe watermelon being crushed to pieces.
Red and white splattered everywhere in an instant.
Yun Chen's headless body crumpled to the ground.
The laughter of the crowd died in an instant, their grins freezing into masks of abject terror.
They stood like ducks with their necks wrung, staring at the Scarlet Sun Demon Sage in horror.
Elder Hao's feather fan slipped from his hand, his goatee trembling like a withered leaf in the wind. He pointed at the demon sage, his lips quivering: "Y-Y-You dare kill someone in broad daylight! D-Do you know who he is?! The Cloud Mist Sect will never let you get away with this!"
"You dare provoke an Eighth-Rank sect! You're all dead!"
"The Primordial Beginning Sect is finished..."
The refugees screamed and fled in all directions.
Jincancan's eyes narrowed slightly, thinking to itself that this bald bird had finally snapped after days of holding it in.
Jiang Ling dug lazily in his ear, as if nothing more than a pesky fly had been swatted dead moments ago.
He glanced at the petrified Elder Hao and the others, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth: "Oops, my bad. Poor discipline on my part—forgive the mess, everyone. This gatekeeper of mine has a bit of a temper. He hates being called baldy the most. Might be your turn next."
Could an Eighth-Rank sect stand against a single strike from a Demon Sage?