Lingxian Peak, Hall of Discipline.
Qian Yutang, an attendant of Lingxian Peak, had served under Ding Mingcang for decades and had rarely seen him this furious.
Knowing Ding Mingcang’s explosive temper, even brewing tea now felt like walking on thin ice, fearing he might incur his wrath.
Qian Yutang forced an ingratiating smile. "Elder Ding, why trouble yourself with such rage? He’s just a nominal disciple—you can deal with him however you please."
"Hmph! How dare he invoke a sect contract? I’d like to see where he gets such confidence!"
Ding Mingcang snatched the teacup and drained it in one gulp, his eyes burning with fury.
A mere Foundation Establishment disciple, daring to speak to him like that?
If not for the fact that Lingxian Peak was crowded with sect disciples at the time, he could have crushed Lu Ze into a cripple with a flick of his hand.
Unfortunately, under the watchful eyes of so many, he couldn’t act too blatantly and had to restrain himself.
Later reports revealed that this Lu Ze had posted a notice before coming to the Hall of Discipline, summoning all disciples who had played "Demon Sect Escape" to gather there.
Clearly, the boy had planned this in advance.
"What a cunning brat!" Qian Yutang cursed after learning of this. "This time, we must not let him turn the tables… Such a disciple is nothing but trouble for the sect."
"Turn the tables?"
Hearing this, Ding Mingcang smirked slyly.
"From the moment he agreed to let me choose the challenge, his fate was sealed."
"What do you mean?"
Qian Yutang was puzzled.
Ding Mingcang exuded absolute confidence.
The day he demanded to set the challenge, he had already devised a countermeasure.
"Heh, sword training isn’t like movement techniques. If we’re talking about swordplay, it inevitably involves combat."
"Once we return to the essence of combat, what tricks can his petty cleverness pull?"
"Does our Lingxiao Sect lack sword-training illusion trials? All were crafted by mighty experts of the past. What qualifications does a mere Foundation Establishment disciple have to surpass such works?"
"Moreover…"
"The reason 'Demon Sect Escape' succeeded was because his combat logic was exceptionally well-designed."
"But now that I’ve explicitly forbidden the development of any [combat] mechanics, how can he possibly turn this around?"
"He’s doomed to lose."
……
……
Artifact Refining Pavilion.
Lu Ze had been moved from his small room to a private loft.
It was fully furnished with all necessities, along with tools and artifacts for crafting illusions.
Ding Mingcang had set up a barrier around the loft.
Without his permission, Lu Ze couldn’t leave, and no one could enter.
"You brat, you never give me a moment’s peace!"
"I was away for barely half a month, and you’ve already stirred up a storm! A sect contract, no less! You—argh!!"
The transmission jade slip in Lu Ze’s hand buzzed with a furious scolding.
It was his master, Nangong Yuan, the Sixth Elder of the Lingxiao Sect.
By the rules, Lu Ze wasn’t supposed to communicate with anyone.
Rumor had it that Nangong Yuan had pulled some strings to secure this brief exchange—though Ding Mingcang was monitoring it to prevent cheating.
"Just enjoy your leisure outside, Master. Don’t worry, your disciple knows his limits."
Lu Ze rolled his eyes.
If he listened any longer, his ears would start bleeding.
"You little… Fine, fine. You’re still my Artifact Refining Pavilion disciple. I won’t let outsiders bully you."
The old man’s tone was exasperated yet protective.
"Since you’ve got such backbone, I’ll grant you access to all sword-training illusion trials in the sect for reference."
"But you’ll have to figure out the techniques yourself. I can’t say more…"
Nangong Yuan hesitated, leaving the rest unsaid.
"Many thanks, Master."
Lu Ze understood.
Ding Mingcang, that old schemer, must have forbidden Nangong Yuan from giving direct guidance to prevent any hints.
While the sect’s illusion trials might not be groundbreaking, they were better than nothing.
"Master, do you think I can win?"
Lu Ze suddenly asked, curious.
"……"
A long silence stretched from the other end of the jade slip.
The answer was obvious.
After a while, Nangong Yuan grumbled,
"You brat… Now you’re worried about winning, after stirring up this mess?"
"Just do your best. I’ll handle the sect contract issue."
"What’s there to lose with your measly cultivation anyway?"
Lu Ze didn’t feel comforted at all.
If anything, it felt like another scolding.
"So, even you don’t believe I can win?"
Lu Ze chuckled.
"How about a bet, then? If I win, you craft me an artifact. Deal?"
"???"
Nangong Yuan was dumbfounded.
He wondered if his disciple needed a visit from Danqing Peak’s attendants to check his sanity…
"Hah! If you can pull that off, I’ll forge you a divine artifact, let alone a mere tool!"
"Deal!"
……
……
Night fell.
Lu Ze rubbed his throbbing temples.
The entire day had been spent experiencing countless sword-training illusions.
The more he tried, the deeper his frown became.
"No wonder it’s the cultivators’ favorite weapon. Even the illusions are this refined…"
Exiting the last swordplay trial, Lu Ze sighed in admiration.
The cultivators had truly perfected the art of sword training.
Every conceivable difficulty level was accounted for.
The ancients might not have known how to design games, but they certainly knew how to cultivate.
Though the illusion trials merely transplanted real-world sword training into a simulated environment, they were remarkably thorough.
Every nuance of swordplay—whether Lu Ze had thought of it or not—was covered.
For the first time, he felt genuinely challenged.
Two major constraints hindered his creativity now.
First, his cultivation was only at the Foundation Establishment stage, meaning his spiritual sense couldn’t support expansive game worlds.
Large-scale settings like "Sekiro" or "Nioh" were beyond his current capacity.
Second, Ding Mingcang’s restrictions—
No [combat] mechanics allowed.
Purely single-player.
And strictly offline!
This ruled out dueling games like "Butterfly Sword."
His options…
Had drastically shrunk.
"Swordplay… gameplay… setting…"
Lu Ze fell into deep thought.
He had to admit, Ding Mingcang was a crafty old fox.
What seemed like arbitrary rules were actually meticulously designed to cripple his strengths.
Banning [combat] mechanics was a particularly lethal blow.
"Enough overthinking. I’ll just start creating."
Lu Ze shook his head and decided to prototype a few games first.
……
……
Sword Inquiry Peak, Sword Inquiry Manor.
Inside a private meditation chamber reserved for core disciples.
"Junior Sister Li, any thoughts on sword-cultivation illusions?"
Zhong Yi asked.
Li Moran shook her head. "None."
Mu Yawen chuckled beside her. "She’s a sword prodigy who’s never hit a bottleneck. Why would she need illusions to train?"
"Fair point." Zhong Yi nodded, then pressed on. "Junior Sister Li, do you think he can create something on par with 'Demon Sect Escape'?"
"What do you think, Senior Brother?"
"I think…"
Zhong Yi gave a bitter smile and shook his head.
"It’s impossible."
"With 'swordplay' as the theme, the illusion realm inevitably leans toward 'combat.'"
"The success of 'Escape from the Demonic Sect' lies in breaking away from the monotony of 'combat,' immersing us in the illusion through an ingenious approach."
"I admit Junior Brother Lu Ze is exceptionally talented, but once it enters the realm of 'combat,' even his illusion realm would struggle to rival 'Escape from the Demonic Sect.'"
"Perhaps Elder Ding Mingcang proposed this requirement precisely because he foresaw this... Alas!"
Zhong Yi felt deeply sympathetic toward Lu Ze's predicament.
In his view, once combat was involved, it was like entering a dead end.
If the focus was on fighting, disciples could simply train in the classic secret realms left by the elders.
Those with greater strength could even spar against the phantoms of powerful cultivators to hone their combat experience.
In terms of battle, the existing illusion realms had already reached their peak.
There was simply no surpassing them.
But if combat wasn’t the theme...
What else could swordplay be used for?
He racked his brain but couldn’t think of anything.
"Senior Brother Zhong, why do you look so downcast?"
The ever-optimistic Mu Yawen, with his simple and honest nature, remained cheerful.
"I think with Junior Brother Lu Ze’s brilliance, crafting a combat-type training illusion would be amazing... We’ll definitely have to spar properly when it’s done!"
"Have you forgotten? Elder Ding explicitly banned the [Duel] function."
Zhong Yi watched Mu Yawen’s eager fists with a hint of envy for his carefree temperament.
His original purpose in coming to the Sword Inquiry Peak was to discuss with Li Moran whether there was any room for innovation in swordplay cultivation.
But she was a swordplay prodigy—to her, training was as natural as breathing.
She truly had no advice to offer.
Now, it seemed Lu Ze’s situation was perilous.
"What if..."
Li Moran suddenly paused her training.
"He makes swordplay itself ingenious?"
world slacker. But a genius female disciple just had to get clingy, insisting that he take her as a disciple. Not only that, she was always making advances on him, thoroughly disrupting his peaceful slacker life...
he colors of other people’s emotions. Light red meant anxiety. Gray meant exhaustion. Orange meant excitement. Yellow... meant repression. At the same time, he could gain unlimited control over one of those colors. Pale cyan: relaxation. Using this ability, he started offering “two-yuan hugs,” spending an afternoon exchanging emotional-color experiences with others. Then came his final female customer of the day— a girl whose emotional color was pure black... —— A week later, Xu Chuan had become skilled at using pale cyan—Relaxation—treating it like a bottle of menthol balm whenever he needed it. That was when he discovered he had unlocked another unlimited emotional color: Purple, the color of fear. So these emotional colors refresh every week? Fine, I take it back—I’ll never call you useless again... —— Much later, after Xu Chuan had accumulated countless emotional abilities, one night, he suddenly found himself inside someone else’s dream. There, he could use the emotional colors he possessed to paint. And in her dream, he painted her a shower of pink shooting stars, spreading across the depths of the night sky...
s the Eldest Princess, renowned for her cold and aloof detachment, became the most docile of lambs, obeying his every command without question. But when the final move was played on the chessboard, as Gu Chenghan seized everything and ascended on the verge of apotheosis, that very Princess suddenly embraced him from behind, her tone carrying a dependence never heard before: "Wait... you haven't yet... commanded me to love you forever." Gu Chenghan froze abruptly. She... hadn't been hypnotized?! ... [The Eldest Princess's Diary] [When my soul was extracted, becoming the sole spectator outside my own shell] [At first, there was overwhelming fury, until I saw] [How he used my sword to effortlessly shatter my inescapable doom] [How he wielded my authority to eradicate fatal conspiracies I had never even detected] [Like a deity, he rescued me from the deep mire I was trapped in] [If not for those annoying vixens, he and I would be a match made in heaven] [I think I am ill, gravely ill] [My deity should belong to me alone] ... "Hypnosis? Oh, it succeeded, my dear Master." "Only this time, it's my turn to hypnotize you."
nd fell into a coma while saving his younger sister from an out-of-control car. He became a vegetable. No one knew that his consciousness had crossed into a world of cultivation. Over the course of sixty years, he began as the lowest kind of mine slave, struggling to survive amid mountains of corpses and seas of blood. By sheer chance, he eventually obtained the complete memories of a fallen Immortal King. Alchemy, medicine, formations, feng shui, physiognomy, artifact forging… Every great inheritance of the cultivation world was now his. But when he opened his eyes again, he discovered that ten full years had passed in the modern world. To pay for his treatment, his father had sold the family’s shop and house, leaving himself covered in lasting injuries and illness. His mother had cared for him day and night, and more than half of her hair had already turned white. His younger sister, who had been only fifteen back then, was now twenty-five. To help repay the family’s debts, she had been forced to lower her head and put on a smiling face in places of glittering lights and endless revelry. Only then did Chen Xuan understand that what he had lost was not merely ten years. He had lost the life his entire family was meant to have. The good news was that he had brought back the memories of an Immortal King’s entire lifetime. The bad news was that his soul had returned alone—his cultivation had not come with him. Spiritual energy was scarce, resources were depleted, and the modern world still had firearms, surveillance, capital, and laws. If he wanted to protect his family, break free from everyone’s control, and become truly invincible beneath the heavens, he would have to start all over again.
