Martial Arts Crossover: The Sweeping Monk of Wudang? That's our patriarch!

With only half a month remaining before the opening of the ancient ruins, major sects have already sounded the horn, and elite disciples are gathering day and night, all for the sake of seizing the rare treasures and lost traditions buried within the ruins.

Although the Five Elements Sect is not a top-tier sect, it still possesses an entry token.

The sect immediately launched a disciple selection process, conducting rigorous screening without leaving any room for compromise.

It should be noted that the ruins have restrictions: only those below the Nascent Soul stage are allowed to enter, and the highest level allowed is only the Core Formation stage.

On the day of the selection, Lin Daochen had no intention of participating. However, upon hearing that the depths of the ruins contained fragments of the "Nine Luminaries Forging God Technique," ancient puppet diagrams, and even a rubbing of the "Soul-Stabilizing Bell," which was rumored to be able to suppress inner demons, a hint of interest finally flickered in his eyes.

That afternoon, he shouldered his old cloth bag, walked down the mountain, and headed straight for the training ground.

No sooner had they stepped off the mountainside than dozens of figures suddenly surrounded them, their robes fluttering like drawn blades...

The man at the head of the group, with a familiar sneer on his lips, was none other than the Empty Young Master, whom he had met half a year ago.

This person's cultivation had steadily reached the Golden Core stage. He lightly tapped the sword sheath with his knuckles, producing a crisp sound that sent chills through the air.

"Fellow Daoist, how have you been? Do you still remember me?"

Lin Daochen frowned slightly, his gaze fixed on the bloodless face opposite him—the Empty Young Master, his robes fluttering, yet his expression was like thin ice covered in frost.

"What do you mean by this?"

The Empty Prince raised the corner of his mouth, paced around him three times, and then slowly spoke, his voice carrying three parts sarcasm and seven parts certainty.

……

"To be honest, we only ask for a small item from you, fellow Daoist. It's not worth many spirit stones, and since we're from the same sect, I'll offer a fair price."

"Oh? May I ask what you seek?"

The Empty Young Master swiftly unfolded his folding fan, the tip pointing directly at Lin Daochen's heart. Though the force was light, it felt like a knife at his throat.

"Fellow Daoist, someone asked me to retrieve your spatial technique. I hope you can do me a favor and not put me in a difficult position."

"If you're willing to part with it, I'll offer you a hundred low-grade spirit stones on the spot."

One hundred low-grade spirit stones?

How could anyone say such a thing? A mere hundred coins can't even buy the lowest-grade storage pouch.

"Fellow Daoist, are you taking advantage of my weakness and vulnerability?"

Lin Daochen narrowed his eyes, his gaze sweeping across the surroundings like that of a hawk.

There were quite a few people, but only seven or eight Golden Core cultivators could truly command the scene. The rest were mostly Foundation Establishment cultivators, and there were even a few Qi Refining disciples whose auras were shallow and whose spiritual meridians were not fully open.

With such a formidable force, an ordinary Golden Core cultivator would likely be surrounded and unable to escape. But today, their target is him.

The Void Prince clapped his hands and laughed, pointing at the crowd around him: "Fellow Daoist, have you forgotten? These people are all Golden Core cultivators of the same level as you! Even if your combat power is outstanding, you can't fight against so many people. How could you possibly shake this impregnable fortress?"

He had been harboring a lot of anger for a long time—he originally thought that this old guy was all alone, and he could easily take him down by hiring a few rogue cultivators for a few thousand spirit stones. Who would have thought that this person would never show up again after going up the mountain, and he would stand guard outside the mountain gate for a whole six months. Exposed to the sun and rain, even his skin turned into a tan.

Lin Daochen said no more. With a flick of his wrist, his longsword was drawn, a cold light flashed, and he plunged into the crowd like an arrow released from a bow.

In an instant, thunder roared and lightning danced wildly, but in the blink of an eye, the world returned to silence—lying on the ground were cultivators who were limp and convulsing.

The Empty Prince staggered backward, gripping his weapon tightly until his fingertips turned white and his pupils shrank to pinpoints: he never expected that this old man would become so strong in just half a year!

Half a year? How could he have broken through the bottleneck to this point? His mind was buzzing, and he was almost speechless.

The sect has strict rules against taking lives, so everyone who has a breath left can lie in bed for half a year and recover completely.

Lin Daochen looked down coldly, his gaze like ice water poured over someone's head. The Empty Young Master's legs went weak, his knees slamming heavily to the ground, his voice trembling uncontrollably:

"Brother, spare my life! I was bewitched by greed... Please, spare my life!"

In that instant, he truly understood—the withered old man before him was not human at all, but a live volcano. Now, he dared not even entertain the slightest thought of struggle.

Lin Daochen didn't even glance at him, slowly sheathed his sword, and turned to walk towards the disciple training ground.

Gazing at that strong, upright, and unhurried back, the Empty Prince felt a tightness in his throat and an even greater blockage in his chest—if he had been beaten up just now, it would have been more satisfying; but this utter indifference was truly terrifying.

This selection of disciples is different from the past. Instead of a competition among themselves, the elders set up tests and examined each candidate one by one. Only those who pass all the tests are qualified to enter the ancient ruins.

The first trial was to bear the sect leader's pressure—stepping into this place was considered taking the test, and no one could back down. Although most people knew they had no hope of winning, they still came out of curiosity, wanting to test just how tough they were.

Mo Taixu hovered in mid-air, his feet not touching the ground, and a vast and mighty force poured down, like a mountain pressing down or a curtain of the sky falling.

Fusion period!

In an instant, two-thirds of the disciples knelt down, their strength to even lift their eyelids completely gone.

Anyone who lies prostrate on the ground and cannot get up is immediately eliminated. For half an hour, cries of agony continue, and eliminations continue unabated.

As soon as Mo Taixu landed, the oppressive aura dissipated, and everyone was panting heavily.

Lin Daochen exhaled a breath of turbid air—the oppressive aura was nothing more than a gentle breeze to him. Yet his heart grew heavier: the dignified sect leader possessed a rock-solid cultivation level in the Integration Realm; while Qingluan, an elder, was only at the peak of the Qi Refining Realm.

In other words, what exactly made this person eligible to become an elder?

The thought had barely crossed his mind when he forcefully suppressed it—he had no time to ponder it right now.

After rounds of elimination, only twenty people remained in the end...

Each of them was a leader in their field, most of them with handsome faces, looking to be in their thirties or forties; only one person stood out in the crowd with white hair and wrinkled skin, his back hunched, like a withered pine tree standing out in a lush forest.

Everyone's gaze frequently swept towards Lin Daochen, their eyes unable to conceal their scrutiny and speculation—everyone who could step into this threshold knew that he was Elder Qingluan's closed-door disciple.

What's even more striking is the lowest cultivation level among all participants: early Golden Core stage. The remaining nineteen people are all at least at the peak of the Golden Core stage.

The next assessment, however, slightly surprised Lin Daochen. An elder casually tossed over several yellowed ancient scrolls, his voice crisp and clear:

"Wind God Eye, limited-time access. The first five to break through will be granted entry to the secret realm!"

With a flick of his finger, the pages of the book flew, and with a slight thought, he began to circulate his internal energy.

Driven by his extraordinary comprehension, this attack technique was like an old friend he had known for many years. Before he had even finished reading the technique, his eyes had already turned golden.

Mo Taixu, who had been silently watching the entire room, suddenly spoke up:

"Lin Daochen, approved!"

Before he finished speaking, the remaining nineteen people stared in astonishment.

From receiving the book to opening my eyes, it took less than five minutes!

Some people hadn't even finished reading the catalog, yet this old man had already mastered it.

What amazing physical attributes!

But if one truly possesses such talent, how could it be that it took until one's hair turns white to condense the elixir?

The five who ultimately emerged victorious consisted of four men and one woman. Apart from Lin Daochen, all of them were Nascent Soul cultivators; the strongest among them was the sect leader's first disciple, who was at the peak of the Nascent Soul realm.

Mo Taixu stared at the five faces, his expression shifting between light and shadow, as if he had been stung by some old memory. It wasn't until the elder beside him coughed lightly to remind him that he slowly came back to his senses.

"In half a month, you will represent the Five Elements Sect to enter the ancient ruins. Remember—once inside, you cannot trust anyone. Even your fellow disciples could be the ones who stab you in the back."

"To survive, you can only rely on yourself. This saying is etched into my bones!"

No sooner had the speech ended than the sect issued an order to set off that very night.

The Five Elements Sect is located in a remote area, and it takes ten days without rest to fly to the ruins.

The person leading the team surprised Lin Daochen.

It turned out to be that "cheap master" Qingluan.

At this moment, she changed her attire: a jet-black Taoist robe with silver thread embroidery on the collar and sleeves, and a golden carp poised to leap in the center, exuding a solemn yet somewhat eerie aura, and her whole being shrouded in an indescribable charm.

The five were led to the summit, and Qingluan clapped her hands three times—

A long cry tore through the clouds, and a giant bird descended from the sky, its wingspan blocking out the sun. It landed steadily on the ground, large enough to carry six people on a long journey.

Once the six people had landed on the bird's back, the giant bird flapped its wings and soared into the sky, instantly piercing through the clouds and mist and disappearing into the vast expanse.

This was the first time Lin Daochen had stepped outside the Five Elements Sect's mountain gate. He walked to the edge of the bird's wing, leaned down, and looked down, his heart sinking suddenly.

The clouds surged beneath my feet, and the peaks rose and fell like waves. The vastness of heaven and earth suddenly burst into view.

If an ordinary person were to walk through this area, it would likely take half a lifetime to cross even one ridge.

He only lingered for a moment before losing interest, sitting cross-legged and immersing himself in breathing exercises.

Just then, Qingluan's voice suddenly came from behind, clear and cold as frost:

"Come here, everyone. I'm going to tell you some rules of the road, and—some trouble you might run into."

"Note that the troubles are 'on the road'."

As the one with the highest cultivation among the five, the eldest brother, Wan Botao, immediately raised his voice and asked:

"Elder Qingluan, could there be dangers along the way?"

"Of course." Her brows furrowed, her smile vanished, and her voice tightened like a fully drawn bowstring. "The path to the ancient ruins has always been ruthless, devouring people without a trace. Every year, I'm the only one who can escort them."

Despite these words, no one seemed tense at all.

Who doesn't know that Elder Qingluan's cultivation level is only at the Qi Refining stage?

The weakest among them, Lin Daochen, was only at the initial stage of the Golden Core realm. If they were truly in danger, she probably wouldn't even need to flick her sleeve.

Perhaps sensing the lack of respect from the crowd, Qingluan suddenly raised her hand and waved it.

In an instant, a gust of wind exploded, sweeping across like a giant hand. Before the five people could even react, they were violently thrown away.

That seemingly casual flick of the wrist carried a force that tore through the air, lifting them all off the clouds.

Fortunately, the giant blue-feathered bird suddenly turned and swooped down, making a sharp arc in mid-air, and steadily caught the falling people.

In an instant, everyone's face turned pale and their fingertips went cold.

Only then did they realize that Elder Qingluan, who was usually treated as a decoration and was privately talked about for "stagnant cultivation," probably already had a combat strength that surpassed that of the sect leader.

Wan Botao pressed his hand to his aching chest, his voice strained: "Elder, what's wrong with you...?"

"This is your first lesson—don't believe appearances, the strong never boast." Her tone was solemn, but Lin Daochen, with his sharp eyes, clearly caught a glimpse of a burning smile in her eyes—that attack was intentional.

"This road is extremely dangerous. In previous years, many participants perished along the way before even reaching the ruins."

"Even with my protection, I cannot guarantee that everyone will survive."

"Because the journey inevitably passes through the heart of the demon realm... if we are ambushed, life and death will hang in the balance, and at that time, it will all depend on our own abilities!"

"But don't worry, as long as I'm still standing, I won't let you die right under my nose."

These words, instead of calming people, made everyone's spines stiff and their throats tight.

Only then did they truly realize that embarking on this journey to the ruins might have been a fatal mistake.

But the retreat route is cut off, and the arrow is already on the bowstring.

The next few days passed peacefully, and everyone gradually relaxed, thinking that Qingluan's words were nothing more than a bluff to scare the newcomers.

Just as dawn broke, a thick fog suddenly rose up ahead—a gray-white swirling fog that blotted out the sky and even swallowed up the sunlight.

A magical flying boat covered in spiritual patterns cleaved through the mist and rushed out. Its hull was charred and cracked, and the deck was littered with corpses, all lifeless.

The one in charge was an old cultivator in the Integration Stage, in his early fifties. At this moment, he was covered in blood, his eyes were bloodshot and burning, and his face was frozen with the extreme terror of dying.

Qingluan's pupils contracted, and she immediately urged her mount to turn around and retreat at full speed.

But the fog surged like a living thing, engulfing the entire sky in the blink of an eye and plunging them into complete chaos.

And the flying boat, under everyone's watchful eyes, silently disintegrated—its hull peeled away inch by inch, turning into dust and scattering in the air, as if it had been devoured by an invisible mouth.

The group tensed up instantly, their gazes sharp as knives, sweeping across all directions.

Lin Daochen's breathing became heavy, and his chest heaved more. If he were to encounter such a bizarre method alone, he would probably be reduced to ashes.

"Keep your eyes peeled! This is the Devouring Beast's 'Soul-Eating Mist'—you all form a defensive formation where you are, I'll go find it and kill it!"

Before the words were even finished, the Azure Phoenix leaped away from the bird, its body bursting with dazzling golden light.

The gold-embroidered carp on the lapel seemed to come alive, its scales shimmering and its movements radiant.

The five men quickly formed a circle back to back, their weapons drawn, gleaming coldly.

Mo Ling'er—the only junior sister in the team—was already pale with fright. She grabbed Wan Botao's sleeve and shrank into his arms.

"Senior Brother... just how strong is Elder Qingluan?"

"I've heard that even the weakest of the Heavenly Demon Beasts is at the peak of the Integration Stage... Can she really handle it?"

Before Wan Botao could speak, the chubby boy with the round face next to him shook his head and interjected:

"Do you really think Elder Qingluan is an ordinary person? Or have you not even checked the sect's old records?"

He smacked his lips, puffed out his little belly, and looked smug:

"Before I came here, I thoroughly studied the records of the most outstanding talents in the Spirit Realm over the past thirty years—Elder Qingluan was once an unparalleled prodigy who topped the Spirit Realm's list! However, due to damage to his foundation when he ventured into the ancient ruins, his cultivation was stuck at a bottleneck, but he still managed to create the 'Array Bond Fusion' technique, and his combat power increased by leaps and bounds every day. But every time he went all out, he was overdrawing his lifespan, which was equivalent to trading his life for a moment of glory."

Upon hearing this, everyone was struck dumb, as if by lightning.

No one expected that Qingluan, who was neglected and treated as a "useless elder" in the sect for many years, was once the most respected person in the entire spirit world.

Before the words were finished, a terrible scream suddenly erupted from the depths of the thick fog—inhuman, hoarse and distorted, piercing straight to the eardrums.