NOVEL WEB Chapter 33: Eastern martial world, Stormfang City
Time is but rhythm—the world's past, present, and future all in one.
Time flowed swiftly as Li Hao and Xian Ling arrived at the city. They stood amidst the buildings, gazing toward the horizon.
Stone streets clattered under the weight of armored cultivators and shouting vendors. Banners fluttered between rooftops, bright red and gold, while spirit beasts growled in cages or strutted behind their masters.
The scent of roasted meat, sweat, and faint spiritual herbs filled the air. Above it all, towering sect halls loomed like silent judges, cradled by jade-green mountains shimmering in the morning mist.
Blossoms danced gently in the breeze, carrying the faint scent of plum and incense. Ancient pavilions with curved rooftops nestled among the trees.
Palace halls and training fields stretched farther than the eye could see—grander than one could fathom.
All of it looked like the immortal sects of legend, filled with the allure of immortality. Below, in the central zone, stood several grand mansions—each a stronghold of power.
Every mansion covered at least 4 kilometers in diameter, filled with green trees and vast fields of grass. They housed not only the clan members but also countless servants and workers.
Xian Ling thought to herself, "This place is amazing... Is this really just Stormfang City—one of the smaller cities in the Eastern Provinces?"
In the East—or any direction, really—the size of a city or town was determined by the strongest cultivator residing there, or more accurately, by the government's assessment of the peak power.
The government calculates the strength of the most powerful cultivator—and all others of equivalent strength—to define the maximum size the city is allowed to reach.
Within most cities, multiple top-level martial warriors exist, but usually only one leads them all—typically a government-appointed authority.
This power-based limitation exists to ensure that, in the event of a beast raid or hostile attack, the top cultivators can respond quickly.
Stormfang City, for example, spans a diameter of 10,000 kilometers, with the government stationed in the center.
If trouble were to break out at the outermost edge, it would take the peak power three and a half minutes to arrive—traveling at full speed.
The top flight speed of a third realm cultivator is 86.4 FS, several times the speed of sound.
Li Hao stared calmly at the grand mansions and towering sects around him, his expression steady—without the slightest hint of awe or fear.
Within his gaze, hidden in the peaks and mansions, were countless powerful auras—each one tens or even hundreds of times stronger than his own.
These were the peak martial warriors of Stormfang City, each at the peak of the Void Realm—the leaders of the ten great peaks of the city:
1. Ming Dynasty City Government
2. Celestial Flame Sect
3. Azure Sky Pavilion
4. White Dragon Palace
5. Mystic Ji Family
—
6. Tiy Clan
7. Shadowmoon Palace
8. Wen Sky Family
9. Phantom Blade Clan
10. Mo Family
11. Twilight Lotus Clan
"Let's go," Li Hao said as they continued on their way.
Several minutes later...
Li Hao and Xian Ling arrived at the base of a great peak. Below it, thousands of children had gathered—some were twelve, some fourteen, and others as old as sixteen.
It was commonly believed that the ideal age to begin the cultivation path was between eight and eighteen years old, when one still had their whole life ahead.
Some geniuses started as early as five to eight, but in truth, most children below that age lack the comprehension necessary to sense spiritual power.
Even among those who could, they were forced to wait until at least five or six years old—when their spirit roots were believed to be fully developed.
But in reality, spiritual roots are at their peak from the moment one is born. They slowly decay over time—though imperceptibly so—until one reaches their twenties.
After that, the start of one's cultivation becomes significantly harder. And once that window is missed, it never comes again.
Li Hao stood watching from afar.
Ling'er asked, "Brother Hao, aren't we going to enter?"
Li Hao remained silent for a moment before saying, "Wait."
Just then, an old man appeared beneath the sect gate and announced loudly, "This time, we are willing to accept only ten thousand new disciples!"
His voice echoed. In the next instant, thousands of children rushed toward the gate, desperate to enter.
Sects only recruit once every five years, which means a narrow window of opportunity.
"Brother Hao, it looks like they're going in! Let's go too!"
Xian Ling grabbed Li Hao's hand and pulled him forward.
Li Hao followed her, stepping forward as they crossed the sect gate just in time.
Then, behind them, the elder released his aura and barked, "Stop."
His tone was firm, though his face remained calm—devoid of the anger one might expect.
"The disciple acceptance is complete. No more will be allowed in," he said simply.
He turned away, walking inside alongside those who had made it.
None dared to complain. The elder was a figure known throughout the region—rumored to have killed a man centuries ago just for offending him.
Though the exact event was lost to time, the story lived on and none dared test him.
The elder skipped past the crowd and walked to the front, saying, "Follow me."
He led the group forward, adjusting his pace to accommodate the younger ones.
The path led up nearly 500 steps, an astronomical climb that forced many to stop and rest.
Each step felt heavier than the last, as if testing their resolve.
Li Hao activated his Cosmic Celestial Eyes, allowing him to see the auras and power structures within the sect.
The sect contained 1.4 million disciples.
Outer disciples: Each had a courtyard of 25 meters in diameter.
Inner disciples: Each possessed a courtyard of 100 meters.
Core disciples: Each had a small 500-meter mansion, representing the elite of the elite.
Only 1% of all disciples were core disciples.
25% were inner disciples.
The rest were outer disciples.
And like the disciples, the number of elders was staggering: 1,022 in total.
They ranged from the lowest Seventh-Level, Third Turn, all the way to the peak—divided by half-steps as they approached the level of a Peak Master.