The eight-day trek across the Dead Zone and the Northeastern Highlands finally ended.
Fang Lin and Lin Wan stood before the towering outer gates of Black Tortoise Mountain. As one of the major sects on the Demon Immortal Continent, the scale of its entrance was staggering. Massive defensive arrays shimmered in the sky above, creating a translucent dome that sealed the colossal mountain range from the harsh external elements.
The heavy stone gates were flanked by heavily armored guards, their Qi fluctuating in perfect synchronization with the ground beneath them.
"Tokens," the guard captain commanded, his voice firm and strictly transactional.
Lin Wan stepped forward, retrieving her inner disciple token from her spatial pouch. The silver metal caught the light, verifying her status as a Late Core Formation disciple of the Seventh Peak.
Fang Lin followed suit, pulling out his dark-red token. It identified him by his disguise: Mu Tie, Early Core Formation, Rank 2 Core Smith of the Ironblood Faction.
The captain swept his Divine Sense over the tokens. The sect's verification array flashed a vibrant green, confirming their identities.
"Welcome back, Senior Sister Lin. Welcome back, Core Smith Mu," the captain said, his posture immediately shifting to one of respect as he recognized their ranks. He stepped aside, gesturing toward the wide stone path leading up the mountain.
"Thank you," Lin Wan said simply.
They walked through the gates, leaving the biting wind of the wasteland behind. Inside the arrays, the temperature was perfectly regulated, the air rich with concentrated spiritual energy.
Black Tortoise Mountain was a sprawling city of cultivators. Thousands of outer disciples hurried along the wide, paved paths, carrying jade boxes, raw materials, or rushing to martial lectures.
"We will head directly to the Assessment Hall," Lin Wan said, her pace brisk. "I want to offload the legacy immediately."
Fang Lin nodded. "I will accompany you."
They navigated the winding paths, eventually approaching a massive plateau nestled between two secondary peaks.
Here, the sheer scale of the Black Tortoise Sect was fully on display. The Assessment Hall was a colossal structure, its roof supported by hundreds of thick jade pillars. It was one of the central hub for the entire sect, processing the missions, bounties, and treasures of tens of thousands of cultivators.
The air buzzed with the sound of thousands of conversations. Disciples of all ranks moved like a restless tide between the glowing commission boards and the heavily fortified transaction counters.
The moment Fang Lin and Lin Wan stepped into the main hall, their Core Formation auras naturally parted the crowd of weaker disciples.
Two inner cultivators, noticing the arrival of a Core Smith, quickly altered their paths to intercept them.
"Core Smith Mu," a handsome male cultivator said, offering a polite bow. "I am looking to commission a custom heavy blade. If you have the time, I am willing to pay twenty percent above the standard rate."
A beautiful female cultivator in flowing green robes stepped up beside him. "Senior Brother Mu. My faction requires five earth-tempered shields. We can provide all the raw materials."
Fang Lin let his posture slump slightly, deliberately projecting the subtle signs of meridian exhaustion.
"My apologies to you both," Fang Lin replied, his tone weary. "I am just returning from a long expedition. I'm slightly injured, and I must focus on recovery. I will not be taking any commissions for the next month."
Disappointment flickered in their eyes, but they nodded in understanding. A fatigued smith could not produce quality artifacts.
"Rest well, Core Smith Mu," the male cultivator said before they both stepped away, melting back into the massive crowd.
Lin Wan led the way through the hall, approaching one of the high-security Assessment counters at the far end. It was carved from cold-iron stone and manned by an elderly Deacon whose sharp eyes constantly scanned the room.
As they approached, the Deacon recognized their Core Formation cultivation and sat up straighter.
"How may the Assessment Hall assist you today?" the Deacon asked formally.
Lin Wan stepped up to the counter and unsealed her spatial pouch. She placed the dark green jade slip onto the cold-iron surface.
"We recovered this in an ancient ruin," Lin Wan stated. "The Ten Thousand Tempering Method. A complete forging legacy."
The Deacon's expression turned serious. He picked up the jade slip and closed his eyes, sending a concentrated thread of his Divine Sense into the stone.
Fang Lin watched quietly. He knew exactly what the slip contained because he had secretly placed it there using his authority over the Ashen Crucible. It was a genuine, highly advanced forging manual from Ou Yezi's vast collection, perfectly intact and incredibly valuable to a sect like Black Tortoise Mountain.
The Deacon opened his eyes, a spark of genuine excitement in his gaze.
"Excellent," the Deacon said, carefully setting the slip down. "The runes are pristine, and the foundational principles are exceptionally refined. And, it originates from a very old era. The sect's smiths will benefit greatly from this."
He looked up at Lin Wan.
"This is classified as a high-priority contribution. The sect's bounty for a legacy of this completeness is one hundred thousand merit points."
Lin Wan's eyes widened slightly. One hundred thousand merit points was a staggering sum, equivalent to years of dangerous, high-risk missions.
"I will accept the bounty," she said, retrieving her silver identity token.
The Deacon produced a master array register, imbuing it with his Qi. He swiped Lin Wan's token across the glowing surface.
"The funds have been transferred to your account," the Deacon confirmed, handing the token back.
"Thank you, Deacon," she said.
They stepped away from the counter, navigating their way out of the bustling Assessment Hall and back into the open air of the plateau.
Instead of heading down the main path, Lin Wan gestured for Fang Lin to follow her toward a quiet, secluded viewing pavilion overlooking the lower mountain ranges.
Once they were alone, she held up her silver token. A pulse of her Qi interacted with the array inside, and she extended her hand toward Fang Lin.
"Your token, Mu Tie."
Fang Lin drew his dark-red token and tapped it against hers.
A soft chime rang out. Fang Lin swept his Divine Sense over his token, confirming the internal array had updated. Fifty thousand merit points had been seamlessly transferred to his account.
Before he could speak, Lin Wan tapped her spatial pouch.
With a heavy thud, a massive pile of raw materials crashed onto the stone floor of the pavilion. Large chunks of unrefined fire-copper ore and several thick leather sacks filled with dense obsidian sand sat between them.
This was the physical loot they had gathered from the outer edges of the ruin before Fang Lin triggered the fake collapse.
With a wave of her hand, Lin Wan divided the pile. A small fraction remained on her side, while seventy percent of the heavy ores were pushed directly toward Fang Lin.
"Take it," Lin Wan said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "During the collapse, you used your physical strength to keep the path clear for our escape. You did the heavy lifting. You earned the larger share of the raw materials."
Fang Lin looked at the massive pile of valuable metals. A strange, quiet feeling settled in his chest.
He had manipulated the entire expedition. He had secretly swallowed the Ashen Crucible, inherited the Sovereign's true legacy, the Furnace of the World-Pillar, and possessed the Four-Pillared Cosmic Force. He had walked away with wealth that defied calculation.
Yet here she was, splitting the minor scraps they had found with absolute fairness, willingly taking a loss because she believed he had worked harder during their 'escape'.
"Senior Sister Lin," Fang Lin said, keeping his expression perfectly neutral. "This is too much. You led the expedition. The physical loot should be split equally as well."
Lin Wan shook her head, offering a small, genuine smile.
"Do not argue with me, Mu Tie. I am an inner disciple of the Seventh Peak. I receive generous monthly allocations of spirit stones and basic materials. You are trying to build your foundation in the Ironblood Faction. You need this more than I do."
She stepped forward and patted his shoulder.
"You are a good person, Mu Tie. Honest and reliable. If you ever need help navigating the faction politics, find me on the Seventh Peak."
"Thank you, Senior Sister Lin," Fang Lin replied, giving a polite nod.
Lin Wan turned and walked out of the pavilion, heading back to her peak.
Fang Lin watched her go until she disappeared around a bend in the path. He stood alone in the quiet pavilion, the massive pile of fire-copper and obsidian sand resting at his feet.
With a quiet exhale, he swept his hand over the materials. A vortex of Qi enveloped the ores, drawing them neatly into his spatial pouch.
He adjusted his robes, turning his gaze toward the distant, smoke-covered silhouette of the Heavenly Forge Peak.
With fifty thousand merit points and a wealth of raw materials, his path to the Old Root Storehouse was finally clear.
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