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Kunlun Sect's Weakest Disciple

They say 'show, don't tell' - but how patient are you? The plot unfolds through your own exploration and insight, not explicit explanations. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Jianghu, the realm of skilled martial artists and heroes seeking fame and justice, was thrown into chaos by the sudden emergence of the mysterious Tower of God. This imposing Tower compelled not only martial artists but all people, forcing and kidnapping them to confront deadly challenges on each floor. Failure meant death, and Ji Wuye, an ordinary disciple from the Kunlun Sect, could only watch in horror as even the talented Du Chen met with failure. "Ah... I should never have relied on you..." he regretted bitterly, burning with remorse. However, as his soul connected with the abyss, a divine voice reached him, offering Ji Wuye an opportunity to rewrite the past he had experienced. Now given a second chance and his memories intact, Ji Wuye is determined not only to seize every opportunity but also to clear the Tower and reach its highest floor, no matter the cost. In a world where martial prowess reigns supreme and the stakes have never been higher, will Ji Wuye's resolve be enough to conquer the challenges that await him in the Tower of God? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Update rates: 5 - 7 chapters/week Discord: https://discord.gg/GS9GYQXxdY

DragonKnov · Action
Not enough ratings
143 Chs

Chapter 49

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'The annual competition is here, huh?' Ji Wuye let out a deep sigh, shrugging off the lingering disappointment and regret over not purchasing the potion.

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As he pushed open the heavy wooden doors, an eerie silence greeted him. The usually bustling space lay empty and deserted, the flagstones worn smooth by countless footsteps now gathering a thin veil of dust.

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Normally, fellow disciples would excitedly remind each other of important events like this.

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Even the weakest among them were considered family, never exempt from the camaraderie that bound the sect together. But this time, the air hung heavy with an unsettling quiet, devoid of the usual polite greetings exchanged between martial artists.

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Back then, Ji Wuye had dismissed it as petty jealousy from his Martial Brothers. But now, the truth dawned on him with sobering clarity.

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"I'm the one who didn't realize how arrogantly I behaved," he muttered, a rueful grin tugging at his lips as he recalled how one of his Senior Brothers had candidly pointed out his flaws in the previous timeline.

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Like a pompous peacock, he had constantly boasted, comparing his looks and prowess to others with an air of unearned superiority, his words and mannerisms grating on those around him.

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Meanwhile, in the Central Courtyard, the remaining disciples had gathered, their numbers dwindling from the once-mighty force of over 5,000 to a mere fraction - less than 3,000 - since the harrowing third-floor challenge and the ominous appearance of the Tower.

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A somber pall hung over the assembly, especially among those who had lost friends and acquaintances to the Tower challenges. Some female disciples stood with reddened eyes, cheeks stained by the lingering tracks of tears shed in mourning.

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Most of those bearing mournful expressions were Outer Disciples, their foundations not yet strong enough to withstand the escalating dangers.

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"Hey, Brother, what skill did you buy this time?" On the far side, the atmosphere among the Inner Disciples and Official Disciples felt markedly less tense.

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With their solid foundations and honed abilities, they exuded an air of quiet confidence, the next challenge holding little fear for them.

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The Tower's trials had not proven overly difficult for these elite warriors. Unlike the Outer Disciples, who only possessed basic moves and had yet to open their Upper Dantians, most of the Official and Inner Disciples wielded defensive and offensive martial arts, as well as advanced techniques that had carried them through the previous ordeals.

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"Me? I have a skill called Nine Star Hegemony Art. Sounds cool, right?" They laughed and traded compliments on their chosen skills, but their momentary mirth was short-lived as their gazes inevitably fell upon the somber Outer Disciples.

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"But I don't think this is the right time to celebrate our survival." Despite their rank distinctions, they were all still family, meeting and joking together every morning, day, and night in a display of camaraderie that transcended titles.

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An Inner Disciple, his white martial robes marked with red stripes denoting elevated status, approached the solemn group of Outer Disciples.

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They greeted him with respectful clasped hands and expressions that no longer reflected the joy and lightheartedness from moments before.

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"Sigh... Junior Brothers and Sisters, please lift your heads," the Inner Disciple spoke softly, his voice carrying a gentle timbre meant to soothe.

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The other Outer Disciples, as well as the Official Disciples nearby, turned their gazes toward him as he addressed them.

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"We have all suffered greatly in this strange phenomenon called the Tower of the God, losing many of our cherished Martial Brothers and Sisters along the way."

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He paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink through the Central Courtyard, a reminder of prayers offered for the fallen. "It's okay to cry, but we mustn't lose hope."

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He smiled warmly at the dejected disciples, the creases at the corners of his eyes speaking to a wisdom beyond his years. "Look how far you've come, just to reach this stage. Each of you has untapped strength and potential lying dormant, waiting to be unlocked.

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"Those who passed away in the Tower challenges wouldn't want to see us mired in despair. Even if they didn't succeed in the challenge, they were still our Brothers and Sisters in spirit, human beings with whom we shared conversations, laughter, and cherished memories."

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The Inner Disciple's voice took on a resonant quality, his words carrying across the courtyard like a clarion call. "We must honor their memory and aspirations by persevering with courage and determination to keep on living and growing stronger."

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He spread his arms wide, encompassing them all in his embrace. "The road ahead is long and arduous, but we will walk it together, united as one sect. In the end, we are all disciples fighting for survival inside the Tower, regardless of our background or status."

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A solemn nod punctuated his words. "Even the Elders and the Patriarch are not exempt from these Tower challenges. To prevent future sorrow, we must live for the future and seize every opportunity to better ourselves.

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"As the ancient saying goes, 'For those lacking confidence, have faith that through unity and diligence, your talents will blossom like the first flowers of spring.'"

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These words seemed to breathe new life into their eyes, reviving their extinguished spirits and rekindling the flames of determination within their hearts. Shoulders straightened, heads lifted, as resolve replaced sorrow on their faces.

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"Now, let go of sadness. Wipe away your tears and begin your training anew with renewed determination - not just to survive, but to carry on the dreams and aspirations of your loved ones who have fallen!"

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His impassioned words were met with a swell of claps and joyful shouts that filled the air, a rousing call to action that stirred their martial spirit.

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"That was a wonderful speech," one of the disciples remarked, their voice tinged with admiration as the Inner Disciple's impassioned words still hung in the air.

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But then, the Central Courtyard fell silent as an Elder appeared, ascending the upper stairs to stand before them all, a serene smile gracing his weathered features as he looked down upon the gathered disciples.

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"Great spirit! Keep it up!" The Elder's booming words of encouragement prompted all the disciples to immediately bow their heads in deep respect, a murmur of ...

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"Greetings, Elder!" rippling through the assembly.

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The Elder waved a calloused hand, his keen eyes calmly surveying the entire courtyard. His gaze flickered momentarily, revealing a fleeting glimpse of grief etched into the deep lines of his expression as he took in the diminished numbers before him.

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'The numbers are dropping again with each trial. Should we consider halting the competition?' he pondered, shaking his head slowly as if weighing a heavy burden.

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'But that is not the Patriarch's order.' His expression turned serious once more as he visibly buried and concealed his emotions.

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However, as his gaze swept over the gathered disciples, he could not find the disciple, the one he sought. 'Did that brat perish in the latest challenge?' he muttered inwardly, a hint of grudging fondness coloring his gruff tone.

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"Outer Disciple Ji Wuye! Come to the Central Courtyard immediately!" His shout reverberated through the courtyard, stirring a wave of murmurs and grumbles among the disciples.

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"I wonder if that arrogant fool survived this time," a male Outer Disciple muttered, his words laced with disdain as he sneered openly.

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"Hey, Brother, you can't say that," another disciple chided with a mocking grin. "He might make fun of you, saying your nose is too huge and twitches uncontrollably when you speak."

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The jibe provoked a reaction from the disciple who had sneered earlier, his face flushing with indignation. The corners of the other disciples' mouths twitched in thinly veiled amusement.

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'Isn't that what you wanted so badly, to curse and mock him? Why are you making Brother Ji the scapegoat here?'

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As expected, the disciple with the prominent nose, who had previously sneered, now glared daggers at the one mocking him. "You think I'm stupid enough not to notice your intention?!" he snarled, his fists clenching at his sides.

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"Heh, try me!" The mocking disciple taunted, his hands suddenly surrounded by a dark, swirling aura that astonished the others nearby.

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"That's martial art... oops, that skill..."

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It seemed that the Inner Disciple's rousing speech and the Elder's stern presence were able to effectively dispel the gloomy pall that had hung over them, transforming the sober atmosphere into one filled with the vibrant energy and competitive spirit of youth once more.

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As the two disciples squared off, nearby onlookers hastened to intervene and calm the escalating situation.

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"Shh... Brothers, stay composed or face punishment from the Elder," they cautioned in urgent whispers, wary of incurring the formidable Elder's wrath.

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Hearing the cautioning comments from their fellow disciples, the two who had been preparing to clash paused, shoulders slumping as they released pent-up breaths in reluctant sighs.

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They wisely heeded the warnings, realizing they also needed to conserve their energy for the upcoming test that surely awaited them.

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The Central Courtyard was divided into smaller, sectioned arenas.

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This day marked the annual competition for all Outer Disciples - a crucial rite of passage and evaluation of their worth for the sect.

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However...an air of restless anticipation hung in the air as the gathered disciples muttered among themselves.

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Obviously, they were waiting for that 'person' to appear... and with each passing moment, their nervousness grew.

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"Darn! Where is that person?" But just as the words left their lips, a hush fell over the courtyard as a solitary figure approached from a distance, his purposeful strides carrying him toward them across the flagstones.

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Ji Wuye's calm, crimson eyes and expressionless demeanor silenced all the disciples who had been searching for him and were about to shout. Perhaps it was his strange, calm bearing that made them feel he had changed?

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He came to a halt before them, back straight and head held high.

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"Apologies for the delay, and thank you for waiting for me, Seniors, Brothers, and Sisters," he spoke evenly, his rich voice reverberating through the courtyard as all eyes turned toward him.

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*Song Jia, Lian Rougang illustrations uploaded! Tired of waiting? Purchase a membership on my Patreon.com/dragonknov! that costs very cheap! 28 members have already become patrons!