Chapter 39 Recruiting Disciples 2
Chapter 39 Recruiting Disciples 2
Charles of Homewater had barely taken in his surroundings when he was joined by others, all looking as bewildered as he felt. The group included a variety of ages and races, from a young girl with fiery red hair to an old man whose beard reached his chest. Despite their differences, they shared the same expression of awe and confusion.
"Even an old man was chosen," Charles thought to himself. "What kind of sect is this?"
His musings were interrupted by an arrogant voice cutting through the murmurs. "Hey, do you know where we are?" Charles turned to see the speaker, a young man dressed in fine clothing, carrying himself with an air of regality and entitlement.
"Didn't you get the letter? I suppose that's how you got here," Charles replied nonchalantly, trying to ignore the young man's pompous attitude.
The young noble bristled at Charles's dismissive tone. "Is that how you address one of nobility? I could have you punished for speaking to me like that."
Charles sighed, rolling his eyes. "Sigh, another arrogant young master, I see."
The noble's face reddened with anger. "What did you say? You're asking for a beating!" he shouted, summoning a fireball to his hand, intending to strike at Charles.
Before the attack could land, it fizzled out, leaving the noble dumbfounded and the onlookers murmuring in surprise.
"There will be no fighting amongst yourselves, at least not now," a voice declared, commanding everyone's attention.
The crowd turned to see a figure descending on a cloud. He had monkey-like features, a mischievous grin, and a staff strapped to his back.
"What a lovely day it is, and fighting on such a day is not good, you know," the figure said cheerfully, landing before the gathered group. "Now, to the reason you are here: you have all received a letter inviting you to the sect, not because you are special but because you are, well, let's just say lucky enough to be chosen as disciples of the sect."
The figure scanned the crowd, his gaze resting briefly on each person. "Okay, before we continue, you need to know that there will be no discrimination here—no race or age differences matter. Those of you who call yourselves geniuses, bullying those weaker than you, will find no place in this sect."
The figure paused, letting his words sink in. "Lastly, there's no such thing as good or bad cultivators in the sect. Everyone is entitled to what they want. If you wish to be a saint, fine. If you choose to be a tyrant, that's also fine. As long as you don't overstep your boundary and bite the hand that feeds you, you will thrive here."
Charles absorbed the man's words, intrigued by the unique philosophy of the sect. It was unlike anything he had heard before.
As the man continued to speak, Charles noticed a young girl among the crowd, looking determined and fierce. Her presence reminded him of the tales he had heard of warriors and adventurers. She seemed to be in her element, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
The man cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention back to him. "Oh, I nearly forgot to introduce myself! I am Jack Connor, the Valley Master of Libra—the Valley of the Monkey King. And as for the name of the sect, welcome to the Primordial Chaos Sect."
The name echoed through the air, resonating with a sense of mystery and power. Charles felt a thrill of excitement course through him. This was his chance to prove himself, to rise above his humble beginnings and become something greater.
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In another corner of the crowd, Elara stood with her sword at her side, her eyes scanning her surroundings. The Primordial Chaos Sect was a place of incredible beauty and untapped potential. She could feel the magic in the air, a sensation both invigorating and humbling.
As Jack Connor spoke, Elara listened intently, her heart filled with determination. She had worked tirelessly to hone her skills, and now she had been given an opportunity beyond her wildest dreams. The sect's philosophy of balance and personal growth resonated with her, and she vowed to make the most of this chance.
Nearby, Arin marveled at the sight before him. The Primordial Chaos Sect was a treasure trove of magical knowledge, and his scholarly mind raced with possibilities. He had spent countless hours studying ancient texts, dreaming of a place where he could learn and grow without limits. Now, that dream had become a reality.
For Kael, the Primordial Chaos Sect represented freedom and adventure. The young thief had spent his life surviving by his wits, always seeking the next thrill. The sect offered him a chance to hone his skills, to explore new horizons, and to redefine himself. Kael was ready to embrace whatever challenges awaited him, confident in his ability to adapt and thrive.
As the gates of the sect opened, Charles, Elara, Arin, and Kael stepped forward, each carrying their hopes, dreams, and fears. They were joined by countless others, all embarking on a journey that would shape their destinies.
The Primordial Chaos Sect was a place of endless possibility, where each disciple could forge their own path, guided by the principles of balance, freedom, and self-discovery. Together, they would learn, grow, and face the challenges that lay ahead, united by the bonds of friendship and the pursuit of greatness.
Charles glanced at the people around him, feeling a sense of camaraderie and shared purpose. As they entered the sect, he knew that this was just the beginning of an incredible adventure, one that would test his limits and reveal his true potential.
With a determined heart and an unyielding spirit, Charles embraced the unknown, ready to explore the mysteries of the Primordial Chaos Sect and uncover the secrets of his own destiny.