“Damn it, Sam Bolton, you’ve really grown some guts since joining Arrow Sect. Don’t run! Today I’m going to help you loosen your bones and lose some weight. Stop! Still running?”

The two brothers dashed off in a flash, leaving everyone else behind in a mix of envy, jealousy, and resentment.

Throughout the entire day, only a handful of people passed the second round, and even then, they were all admitted to the more obscure sects. Passing the second round to enter Sword Sect was almost unheard of—practically a miracle.

The bearded man was a Sword Sect elder named Adam Turner. Looking at the punch mark left by Mark Carter on the testing wall, he couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh, “So there really are fools like this in the world.”

“Cultivation is, after all, something only fools do.”

The Talisman Sect elder smiled. “But you really went for it—letting someone at the second Fate Mark level pass the second round into Sword Sect. People are bound to say you’re just putting on a show.”

“Tch, like I care.” Adam Turner said indifferently.

Heaven and earth are merciless, treating all things as straw dogs. Cultivation is about defying the heavens, seizing power and extending life. Who but a ‘fool’ would do it?

The Foundation Cultivation Technique isn’t meant to raise one’s Fate Mark level; its purpose is to strengthen the stability of the Fate Mark and enhance the output of primal energy. Mark Carter just focused on the level and didn’t pay attention to this.

Chapter 4: Cultivation Means Shopping!

So, what should a newcomer to the Sanctuary do in these three days?

Early in the morning, just as Mark Carter was hoping to sleep in and finally relax, Sam Bolton dragged him out of bed.

Mark Carter had been wound so tight lately that, once he relaxed, he slept straight from yesterday afternoon until now.

“Sam Bolton, you’d better have a good reason, or I swear I’m going to make you pay!” Mark Carter rubbed his eyes.

“Brother Meng, there’s less than three days left—we need to get ready!”

The chubby one said excitedly.

“Get ready for what? It’s not like we have to pay tuition.” Mark Carter said, his sleepiness fading. Realizing he’d actually made it into Sword Sect, it all felt like a dream. To make sure, he gave the chubby guy a hard flick on the forehead, then confirmed he wasn’t dreaming.

“Boss, Brother Meng, my dear brother, this isn’t about tuition! As a new Sanctuary student, you need basic gear, or people will think we’re country bumpkins!”

The chubby one said smugly.

The Sanctuary doesn’t require tuition. Every new disciple must serve the Sanctuary and earn enough contribution points to learn cultivation techniques. Of course, those with exceptional talent or connections are a different story.

“What basic gear?”

“The three treasures of rookie cultivators!” the chubby one said mysteriously.

“Are you itching for a beating? Spit it out. Don’t tell me it’s your dad’s three aphrodisiac treasures?”

The chubby one almost choked, coughed a few times, and said, “Weapons, messenger, spirit stones.”

As he spoke, he pulled out a red longbow. “Heh, this is my baby, Cupid. I’m going to use it to shoot the first girl in Arrow Sect.”

The lovestruck chubby guy put extra emphasis on a certain word.

This was a beginner’s bow usable from Fate Mark level one to five. The Sanctuary doesn’t provide weapons—you have to bring your own.

The moment he saw the weapon, Mark Carter’s eyes lit up, because he could feel the flow of primal energy on it. It was the real deal.

A good weapon is a cultivator’s second life.

“This is my messenger, Qiuqiu!” Sam Bolton took out a demon-taming talisman from his convenient storage pouch, infused it with his own primal energy, and the badge flashed, transforming into a chubby, plump, tamed mouse demon.

“Cute, right?” Sam Bolton patted the mouse demon’s head. “Qiuqiu, your brother Jiang’s happiness in his next life depends on you!”

Mark Carter slapped his forehead. “Don’t you know girls all like to keep fancy cat demons?”

Trying to pick up girls like this? More like serving yourself up as a snack.

Sam Bolton was instantly dumbfounded. “I forgot! God, am I doomed to be eaten alive by beautiful women?”

“Let me see its true form,” Mark Carter said with a smile. This guy was definitely doing it on purpose—using his mouse demon to hit on girls’ messengers. This kind of self-sabotaging pickup technique was Sam Bolton’s specialty.

“Sure thing!” For this kind of low-level demon beast, you only need to be at Fate Mark level one to use it. With his level four strength, the chubby guy had no trouble at all.

The mouse demon Qiuqiu immediately transformed into a giant mouse demon over a meter long—still just as chubby. Then the equally chubby Sam Bolton jumped on its back, and Qiuqiu’s body instantly sagged, its belly nearly touching the ground.

“Haha, cute, right? This is my double-ball combo—kills the competition!” Sam Bolton whistled proudly.

Mark Carter jumped away. “Don’t you dare say I know you!”

Most archers value agility—maximum agility. But not him. Not only is he not agile himself, he even picked a slower messenger.

These little demons are all tamed. In their normal state, they’re smaller than regular animals and can deliver messages. Infuse them with primal energy and they grow larger, serving as transportation. The stronger ones can even help in battle.

Of course, with Qiuqiu’s situation, carrying the chubby guy, its speed could probably match a snail in a fair race.

As for the messenger, Mark Carter didn’t care much, but he definitely needed a weapon.

Then the chubby guy rummaged around and, with great care, pulled out two spirit stones. Qiuqiu immediately stared wide-eyed, drooling, and got smacked by the chubby guy.

“Brother, good things are meant to be shared—half for each of us!” he said, stuffing the bigger spirit stone into Mark Carter’s hand.

Mark Carter shook his head. “I can’t take this!”