Sweat dripped down from Mark Carter's forehead, Mark Carter gritted his teeth, cursing inwardly—what the hell was this? He... was actually afraid of heights.

As a sword cultivator, his dream was to fly on a sword, but afraid of heights... damn it!

The four elders clearly had no idea how many years they had lived here; their apparent age was not necessarily their real age. This was the advantage of cultivators.

Chapter 9: The Rookies

After flying for about ten minutes, a magnificent immortal mountain suddenly appeared before everyone’s eyes. Amidst the mist and clouds, halls glowing with white light could be seen. Here were the best cultivation methods and the most powerful techniques in the entire Minor World.

The young people's blood began to boil. This was the Holy Hall, the number one sect in the cultivation world!

Of course, this was also their home, and they would have to fight for it.

The flying boat sped forward, slowing down as it approached the Holy Hall. In the hand of the bearded Adam Turner appeared a dark golden longsword, its blade etched with dragon patterns. He threw the sword forward.

—Sword-riding flight!

Although Adam Turner was a bit different from the sword immortal image in Mark Carter's mind, Adam Turner riding his sword still exuded the unique flair of a sword cultivator.

Sword cultivators were known as the number one path for a reason.

At this moment, a young man suddenly appeared in midair, standing on a floating red magic wheel, his expression arrogant. He did not salute Adam Turner upon seeing him, and he too bore the emblem of four golden swords.

“Adam Turner, ahead is the mountain-protecting formation. This is as far as you go.” The talisman cultivator, so handsome he seemed almost otherworldly, clearly had no intention of giving Adam Turner any face.

Adam Turner frowned slightly. “Henry Grant, the new disciples are here to view the mountain—this is a required path. Why are you blocking the way?”

“Adam Turner, you’ve already taken them around, and they’ve seen what they need to see. These rookies aren’t qualified to enter the mountain yet. Today I’m on guard duty. If you’re not satisfied, go talk to my master. Don’t waste your breath here.”

Henry Grant stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze sweeping over the flying boat. When he saw Anna Harris, a hint of desire flashed in his eyes. When his gaze passed over Grace Brooks behind Anna Harris, he looked even more surprised—he hadn’t expected such a stunning beauty among this batch.

“Junior Brother Ma, these new disciples are seeing the Holy Hall for the first time. Please make an exception—just lift the mist so they can have a look.”

Anna Harris said with a gentle smile.

Henry Grant's attitude toward Anna Harris was completely different. “Since Senior Sister Zhao has spoken, of course I’ll comply.”

With that, he spread his hands, revealing a talisman. The mist shrouding the holy mountain gradually dispersed, and the awe-inspiring, miraculous Holy Hall appeared.

The holy mountain where the Holy Hall was located was one of the most famous mountains in the Minor World, rich in spiritual energy and greatly beneficial to cultivators. Of course, if not for the strength of the Holy Hall, ordinary forces could never possess it. Though it had seen many battles, the foundation of the Holy Hall had never wavered. For a thousand years, generations of disciples had worked tirelessly to build the majestic, unassailable Holy Hall of today.

This was a miracle of the Minor World.

Mark Carter stared fixedly at the lofty Holy Hall. Just looking at it filled his heart with a surge of courage and impulse. One day, he would make everyone there know his name!

Henry Grant's generosity was quite limited. Soon, the Holy Hall was once again shrouded in mist. “Senior Sister Zhao, when you return to the Holy Hall, remember to let me know. I’ve obtained a century-old Rejuvenation Herb and have some alchemy questions I’d like to consult you about.”

Hearing this, Anna Harris couldn’t help but nod slightly. Henry Grant smiled and disappeared into the mist.

Although cultivators could prolong their lives, time was still a ruthless blade, and beauty would fade. Female cultivators would do everything possible to maintain their looks. The Rejuvenation Herb was one such immortal herb, a key ingredient in refining the Rejuvenation Pill.

The flying boat turned away from the holy mountain and flew downward. Only then did everyone on board realize—they weren’t qualified to enter the Holy Hall yet.

“Junior Sister Zhao, that guy is no good. You’d better be careful.” Adam Turner returned to his sword and reminded her. That Rejuvenation Herb—clearly he had other intentions.

“He’s Uncle Ma’s precious nephew, spoiled rotten. There’s no need to stoop to his level.”

Anna Harris was quite calm. “Alright, all disciples gather in the center. I’m going to speed up. Our destination is the Thunderlight Branch of the Holy Hall, which will be your place of cultivation from now on.”

Back on the flying boat, Adam Turner glanced at Mark Carter, who was staring intently at the holy mountain. “Kid, move in a bit. When the boat speeds up, if you get thrown off, your soul really will return to the Holy Hall.”

Mark Carter clenched his fists and shuffled inward step by step. Adam Turner frowned, then suddenly noticed the sweat pouring down Mark Carter's forehead. He paused, then shook his head.

He’d seen this before—fear of heights. A very rare condition among cultivators, but for a sword cultivator, it was fatal. Maybe he’d made a mistake by acting on a whim.

With a whoosh, the flying boat glowed white and dove northward from the holy mountain. The four elders stood proudly at the bow, facing the wind, while the rookies in the back were thrown into chaos, exclaiming in shock.

Mark Carter gritted his teeth, adjusting his balance. This acceleration felt like his soul was about to scatter.

By the time everyone recovered, the flying boat had already landed on a small mountain not far from the holy mountain. On the cliff face were four large golden characters: Thunderlight Branch.