Chapter Three: The Sect's Trial

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The Wind Pass!

Nestled between two towering mountains, a narrow strip of sky opens above, and the peaks soar so high that the eye cannot see their end. It feels as though these mountains reach far beyond any measure.

Between the two mountains, only a slender path exists, barely wide enough for a single person to pass.

It is called the Wind Pass, for wild winds swirl endlessly in the gap, never ceasing year-round.

“So, you're telling me that as long as we make it through this Wind Pass, we’ll reach the territory of the Mountain Blade Sect—and we’ll be accepted as its disciples? That's right, isn’t it?”

Before the pass, Zhou Yi and Song Hai stood straight and tall. Zhou Yi narrowed his eyes, gazing at the Wind Pass, and asked softly.

“Are you truly decided?” Song Hai’s face was resigned.

“Is there a problem?” Zhou Yi retorted without turning his head.

“You don’t actually believe that crossing this Wind Pass is as easy as it looks, do you?” Song Hai gave Zhou Yi a strange look.

“Easy?” Zhou Yi murmured, stretching his hand toward the pass.

The wind was gentle, brushing his hand softly and making him shiver slightly—almost pleasant. It seemed the Wind Pass was much simpler than he had imagined.

Such mild breezes hardly seemed fit to guard the entrance to the Mountain Blade Sect.

“If it were really so easy, you wouldn’t be making that face!” After feeling the wind’s strength, Zhou Yi shook his head, turned to Song Hai, whose expression was peculiar, and smiled. “Go on, what’s the trick here?”

Song Hai looked deeply at Zhou Yi and took a long breath. Though they had not known each other long, he already sensed Zhou Yi was a stubborn soul—once he made up his mind, he never turned back.

Whether it was swindling half of the magistrate’s fortune, or leading Song Hai on a miraculous escape from their pursuers out of the city—these were feats Song Hai had never dared to imagine, let alone attempt. Success? Impossible! At least, with his abilities, most ideas were dismissed the moment they appeared.

If success seemed impossible, why try at all?

But Zhou Yi, who had once teetered on the edge of death—if not for a moment’s hesitation from Song Hai, he might have died—had led him, step by step, to accomplish things he’d never even dreamed of.

Earlier, Zhou Yi had told him he would join the Mountain Blade Sect and master their famed blade technique. Though Song Hai didn’t say it aloud, he couldn’t help but wonder if Zhou Yi really could do it.

So, muddled and unsure, the two arrived at the Wind Pass. If they could cross it, they would join the sect!

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It seemed that this unbelievable feat was about to be accomplished—or at least, the possibility now existed.

“All right!” Reaching this thought, Song Hai stopped overthinking, shook his head to clear away the jumble of doubts, and looked at Zhou Yi. “Since you’re determined, I’ll go with you!”

“The Wind Pass—legend says this was once a high mountain, and in ancient times, the narrow gap didn’t exist.”

“There wasn’t a pass?” Zhou Yi’s brow furrowed in surprise, thoughts whirling. Suddenly his face changed, deeply shocked. Could it really be as he imagined? After all, this was a world of martial heroes!

“Yes. This gap was not formed naturally, but split open with a single stroke by an elder of the Mountain Blade Sect!”

“A—a single stroke?” Zhou Yi was stunned, his words faltering. Wasn’t this supposed to be a martial world? How could it feel like a scene from a fantasy?

“Of course, that’s only legend—no one knows if it’s true.” Song Hai’s face turned serious. “But one thing is certain!”

“What?”

“The wind in the pass!”

“The wind in the pass?”

“Yes. The wind here is not ordinary—it’s blade wind!”

“Blade wind?” Zhou Yi felt a chill, staring at the tranquil pass in disbelief.

“That’s right. It’s said the only way through is to walk. And the blade wind isn’t constant—the further you go, the stronger it becomes. Don’t be fooled by the gentle breeze at the entrance; deeper in, it grows fierce.”

“Those who’ve crossed the Wind Pass say the first stretch is tolerable, no more than blades grazing the skin. In the middle, it’s like countless blades carving at you endlessly. To walk the Wind Pass is no different from climbing a mountain of blades!”

“Those who crossed—did they make it?” Zhou Yi’s eyes lit up, focusing on the key point.

He had understood from the start that the Wind Pass would be difficult—after all, it was the sect’s entrance test. If it were simple, that would be absurd.

Difficulty was to be expected.

“Uh…” Song Hai was caught up in describing the horror of the Wind Pass, but Zhou Yi’s mind worked differently, fixated on another point. He stared at him, confused.

“Why are you zoning out? I asked you a question!” Zhou Yi, oblivious to his own oddity, poked Song Hai, urging him for an answer.

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“I give up, you’re not a normal person!” Song Hai admitted defeat, straightening his face. “What did you just say? I didn’t catch it—ask again!”

“…Those who’ve crossed the Wind Pass—did they make it?” Zhou Yi repeated.

“How could they? If they had, would they still be here? They’d have joined the sect already!” Song Hai scoffed.

“So, you mean they crossed, but didn’t make it all the way?” Zhou Yi realized.

“Exactly!”

“Do you think we can make it?”

“You really intend to try?”

“Didn’t you hear me? To walk through the Wind Pass is as hard as climbing a mountain of blades. Would you dare?”

“Aren’t you afraid of pain?”

“Will you accompany me?”

“You…”

“Ah, my luck is rotten!”

“There’s no difficulty in the world that cannot be overcome by determination.”

“If you think the Wind Pass is terrifying, hard, and refuse to try, you’ll never make it.”

“But if you’re resolved to cross, no matter how daunting, you can do it.”

“Often, things aren’t as hard as we imagine. Failure comes because, from the start, we shackle ourselves with doubt. If you believe you cannot succeed, you never will.”

“Hesitation and fear have no place in those who wish to act.”