Cultivation System: Elder Edition

Chapter 136

Tensions (III)

I have to be honest--for a little while, everyone stared at the sky... and there was nothing there. Yet, I'm pretty sure only I felt awkward about it; others seemed tense and even... scared.

It was about fifteen seconds later that it happened.

The first thing was a hum--a low vibrato that churned straight through me, rattling my organs. All our robes fluttered under the pressure, and Wan Lan even yelped slightly in pain.

The second thing was a shake--not of the ground, but of the sky. It was as though rumbling thunder exploded directly overhead, and all that excess energy fell on top of us.

Tables and benches and even some tents cracked, and some outright exploded. I quickly glanced toward where the kids were, sighing in relief when I saw it was just slightly shaken.

Some of the weaker kids even toppled backwards and fell, and it wasn't even just the objects that cracked, but the ground itself.

Then I saw it--a massive, beyond massive, gash in the heavens.

It was like a vertical eye opened, except there was only a black void therein. The spacetime shattered--no, shattered is the wrong word. There was no sound or shards falling; no, rather than shatter, it just... dissolved.

And through the enormous rip the size of six mountains stacked together, wardrums erupted into a battle cry, loud and obnoxious, and not a moment later, a spear-shaped tip aglint with gold pierced through, soon followed by the rest.

It was a ship--a warship, I imagine--the size of a city. No, seriously, it spanned at least eight miles across, its hull at least four hundred yards tall, gilded with things that were impossible to discern this far out.

As it passed through the void, bolts of lightning and sounds of thunder continued to erupt in a cacophony that seemed to never end, and since it was massive, it took it a while to leave the void completely.

Seven minutes, to be precise.

And with each passing second, the pressure upon us increased--at first, it was like that dull toothache that you don't even notice (though the kind that does foreshadow a near dentist visit), but by the end, it was like an agonizing root infection that no number of ibuprofens in the world will dull.

Shockingly, though, I endured it better than most; even Old Zemin seemed shaken and on the verge of throwing up blood. Wan Lan had passed out about two minutes in, and the ones that endured the longest besides the Elders were Ye Bao and that Yahui woman, who lasted a whole four and a half minutes.

By the end, it was really only Old Zemin and me who were conscious, though he was struggling so much that he didn't even notice me.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Do I think, even for a second, I'm somehow more mentally resilient than these other people? No. It was likely a combination of Heart-Stitching Art and Art of Survival working in concert to shield me from most of the impact.

Wan Lan had only learned the Art of Survival partly, and I haven't yet taught her Heart-Stitching Art, which is why she didn't endure for long.

Considering that the kids weren't coming out of the tent, I imagine it was Long Tao's bidding since he probably sensed that the newcomers weren't any random throwaway thralls.

Precisely seven minutes and four seconds later, the entire warship emerged from the gash, and the latter closed, with the world settling down almost immediately. I mean, the dull pressure was still there, though it was mostly just coming from the fact that there was a massive freakin' city levitating directly above us. It was so big that it would have likely turned a day into a night had it not been a night already.

One by one, everyone started waking up--and I pretended to do the same. Was I going to divulge that I somehow managed to endure what some of these guys, who were at least a couple of major realms above me, were unable to?

Hell no.

Screw that.

Just as everyone was about done waking up, two figures descended from the sky like Gods. No, seriously, halos of gold spun behind them like wheels, their faces cloaked in a golden light, their visage and countenance both holy but also... so freakin' pretentious. Oh my God. They did not have to do any of these things--it was just for show!

Old Zemin's eyebrows twitched more than a pair of wriggling worms after being cut in half, and his expression was that of being sick. Alas, this had less than nothing to do with me; to these people, I may as well be an invisible ghost, I imagine.

"Gather your leaders," a voice was a choir--the pretentiousness thus continues--though, I must admit... quite pleasant to the ears.

"What for?" Old Zemin asked.

"Just obey. You too," Hm?

... wait, is it just me or... is he looking at me? I mean, I can't tell where he's looking 'cause his freakin' face is cloaked in light, but his head is turned my way, and others are looking my way, and--hey, dude, why are you putting me in the spotlight?

"Uhm... I, I'm just a random nobody," I voiced out, prompting the figure to pause for a moment. I could have sworn he or she smiled.

"Then you can be a neutral, presiding party. Gather everyone in two minutes, and we'll teleport you to the Hall."

Neutral what? Presiding what?

Dammit. They must have seen me not pass out. I mean, of course they did. It'd be stranger if they didn't. Haah. I should have just passed out... me and my dumb brain, at it again.

"Go inform the others," Old Zemin said, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Yes, Elder!"

"If, if you don't mind me asking..." I dared speak once the other old guys left, likely to inform other sects.

"Eternal Edge Mountain," Old Zemin replied. "The most ancient Sword Sect of the entire continent. Though it's never been confirmed, supposedly they're a branch of one of the Seven Primordial Pillars." Yeah. None of that means anything to me. "Bottom line... if you see them, it's never for a good reason."

"... why'd they drag me into it?" I asked.

"They were probably serious about that," Old Zemin replied, shooting me a strange look. "It's one of the few tolerable things about them--all their forced meetings have a presiding third party, an arbiter if you will." I wouldn't, thank you very much. "And they often choose, uhm, characters of unknown fame." Wow, dude, just say 'random pieces of crap with no background, talent, or skill'. Your attempt to sound nice is just making it worse. "Don't worry about it. If I were you, I'd just enjoy the show..."

He sighed and stood up, giving a few more orders to his disciples while I continued to sit there, silenced.

We should have just gone to random mountains and become hermits or something, I swear.

"Wan'er," I turned to the young girl. "Go back to the kids and tell them to stay in their tents. If I don't come back, do whatever Long Tao tells you to."

"Uh, Master Lu--"

"--just do it," I quickly interrupted her. "Don't worry about me. It's just a small precaution."

Well, I really hope that's all it is...