Chapter One: The Newcomer at the Ascension Pool

A flash of white light swept through the Reception Pool, and a tall, ragged young man appeared out of thin air.

This was Andrew Brooks, who had just become an immortal after overcoming his tribulation. He had cultivated arduously in the mortal world for two hundred years and finally achieved his dream of ascension.

“So this is the Immortal Realm?” He looked around and found himself standing in a half-man-high circle built of green jade, with a diameter of about five or six meters.

The next moment, he took a deep breath and was instantly a little intoxicated. “As expected of the Immortal Realm—such dense immortal spiritual energy.”

He knew that, by now, Earth’s spiritual energy had already withered, and immortal energy was extremely thin. But it wasn’t until he felt the almost tangible richness of the energy here that he truly understood what the End of Dharma Era meant.

As he looked around, a cold snort suddenly sounded. “Kid, have you seen enough? If you’re done, come register your identity... You know the rules, right?”

Ru... rules? Andrew Brooks frowned, startled, and followed the voice. He saw that not far outside the circle, a man and a woman sat at a stone table, watching him nonchalantly. Both were young—the man in white, the woman in black.

He had glanced in this direction earlier but hadn’t noticed anyone. Now, with a man and a woman suddenly appearing, he was startled. To make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him, he sent out his divine sense to scan them.

“Insolent!” the man in white snorted coldly. For a newly ascended fellow to dare use divine sense to observe immortals—this wasn’t just rude, it was outright provocation.

Without thinking, he released a wave of divine sense pressure, forcefully pushing back.

Andrew Brooks grunted, staggered back a step, his face turning pale. After gasping for breath a few times, he spoke with clear dissatisfaction, “Does bullying me with your divine sense make you feel accomplished?”

“You deserve it!” the man in white couldn’t be bothered to explain. “I’m asking you—do you know the rules or not?”

Andrew Brooks was stunned for a moment, then slowly shook his head. “I don’t.”

So he’s from a small place, the man in white lost even more interest. “State your sect and origin.”

Why should I tell you? Andrew Brooks grew angrier, but the other’s strength was clearly superior, so he could only swallow his frustration and answer, “A rogue cultivator, from Earth.”

“Rogue cultivator,” the man in white’s lips twitched. After a moment’s thought, he took out a jade slip.

For reception officers, rogue cultivators were always tricky. Any rogue cultivator who could ascend had to possess great determination, perseverance, and wisdom—some even had extraordinary luck.

But at the same time, rogue cultivators were the hardest to manage. Not only did they know nothing, but with no sect or family ties, they acted with complete disregard for rules.

So he needed to check the jade slip to figure out what kind of place Earth was.

What he didn’t know was that ever since that blue planet was called Earth, no one from there had ascended.

The man in white browsed the jade slip for a while, his eyes suddenly narrowing as he asked coldly, “Are you sure you’re from the Earth realm?”

“I’m sure,” Andrew Brooks replied impatiently. He was never good at dealing with people, and after suffering a setback, his tone was naturally unfriendly.

“That’s odd,” the man in white muttered, waving his hand to produce a black stone tablet beside him.

The tablet looked a bit strange, resembling an old-fashioned washboard from Earth, with ridges running along it.

The man in white spoke indifferently, “Show your most powerful immortal technique and strike the test tablet.”

This is the test tablet? Andrew Brooks thought, conjured a wall of green jade, and stepped up to the tablet.

Doesn’t look like a spy, the man in white observed. The green jade wall didn’t react at all—this Reception Pool was inscribed with several complex formations, not only to receive ascended immortals but also to identify spies.

If a fake immortal tried to leave the Reception Pool, it would trigger an alarm.

Andrew Brooks, however, paid no attention to that. He stepped forward and punched the stone tablet hard. A streak of green light flashed across the test tablet, and a segment at the bottom lit up in grayish white.

Moments later, the light at the base of the tablet faded.

“From an End of Dharma plane,” the woman in black finally spoke, her face full of disdain. “Looks like the inheritance has been severed.”

This test tablet could measure more than one thing. Lighting up one segment at the bottom meant the basic level after ascension—first-level Wandering Immortal. Grayish white indicated the quality of spiritual energy was rather decayed, while yellowish white meant the quality was relatively abundant.