CHAPTER 1279: STRANGE TRIBULATION (2)

It was widely known and accepted that the Domain Realm tribulation caused the highest mortalities of all realms—even when compared to that of the Soul Formation realm, which many, including Yang Qing, found strange. It stood to reason that the higher up the realms one climbed, the more fatal the tribulation would be. And yet, the tribulation of the Domain Realm was said to claim more lives than that of the Soul Formation realm.

Why was that?

During his two breakthroughs—the Core Formation one and the Palace Realm one—Yang Qing had felt the difference in quality between the tribulations. Granted, he had slept through both, but even so, he could still tell the difference. While they were both easy for him, the Palace Realm tribulation felt like being massaged by firm hands, as opposed to the Core Formation tribulation, which felt like being massaged by delicate hands wrapped in jelly.

So why then did the Domain Realm tribulation cause more deaths than the one for the Soul Formation realm?

That, at least, Ren Shu had provided an answer to. The reason for the discrepancy lay in the strangeness of the Soul Formation tribulation—or rather, in the consequences of failing it.

No one died from failing to break through to the Soul Formation realm. However, while the chances of death were at an absolute zero upon failure, the repercussions could be considered far graver.

What could be considered much worse than dying? Yang Qing had naively asked at the time.

As a creature religiously devoted to avoiding death, anything that didn’t involve dying sounded like a good outcome to him—at least, that was until he learned the truth: those who failed their Soul Formation tribulation would be refined by the tribulation itself and transformed into special natural treasures, their awareness wiped out in the process.

A petrified Yang Qing—who, even stupefied, couldn’t shut off his curious mind—had asked, What kind of special natural treasures?

And Ren Shu, ever the indulger and always full of information, told him.

Every grotto out there—three out of ten—was created from a cultivator who had failed their Soul Formation tribulation. As for mature and ancestral dragon spiritual veins, especially those that hadn’t formed gradually through natural evolution, six out of ten were born from someone who failed their breakthrough. The embryonic natural saint-grade treasures? Yes—a number of them, too, came from failed Soul Formation attempts.

The reason the Domain Realm tribulation topped the charts in terms of mortality wasn’t because it was more dangerous. It was because those who broke through to Soul Formation didn’t die; they were recycled into special natural treasures instead.

That was the first time Yang Qing realized there truly was a fate worse than dying.

And to make sure the point was properly driven home, Ren Shu took it a step further and gave him two verified examples of special treasures formed from failed tribulations. One of them was closer to home, while the other was something fairly renowned.

The closer-to-home example was the Purple Forest, where the purple-grade tests for new members joining the Order were held—the one where making it to the end with just a missing limb was considered getting off lightly.

As it turned out, that malevolent forest, with its deadly beauty, rich spiritual qi density, and abundance of spiritual plants—rare and common alike—along with the dangerous spirit beasts that called it home, was formed from a purple star elm tree that had failed its tribulation. The resulting transformation created the Purple Forest, a place where you could never see the sun, as it was perpetually shrouded in deep violet rays.

The more renowned example was a strange-looking mountain known as Broken Hilt Mountain, or the Sword Graveyard. It was shaped like a sword, complete with a hilt and part of the blade, though it looked as if the rest had broken off.

It was a highly visited location for sword cultivators because the entire mountain was infused with the powers of the Sword Dao, hence its appeal. Sword cultivators flocked to the site to temper and improve themselves, and quite a substantial number gained alot from it.

However, as appealing as it was, it was also an extremely dangerous place to venture into.

Just as many benefited from it, many also died there. If you were caught lacking in any way, you’d fall to the powers of the Sword Dao that filled the mountain. For all who died to it, their bodies would be swallowed up by their swords, which would then bury themselves into the mountain—hence the nickname, the Sword Graveyard. It was filled with countless swords that acted as grave markers for those who perished there.

Yang Qing had even heard a rumor that the mountain awakened the spirits of those swords, using them to test the mettle of visitors. If you lost, you would be slain. But if you proved yourself worthy, you would not only gain the sword but also inherit the insights it held along its path. This was one of the main reasons why, despite the high fatality rate, so many sword cultivators still dared to go there.

When it came to the mountain, Yang Qing had always assumed it was some artificial treasure created by a gifted sword cultivator—never realizing it was actually formed from the remains of a rogue sword cultivator who had failed his soul formation realm tribulation. That finally explained why the mountain remained ownerless. Something so precious, despite its dangers, would have long been claimed by the powerful organizations, especially those devoted to the sword path.

He’d have expected the mountain to have been claimed by an organization like the Radiant Sword Sect, but it turned out the reason it wasn’t was because the cultivator it was born from, before facing his tribulation, had left a will. In it, he stated that should he fail his tribulation, whatever he transformed into as a result should be made free for other cultivators to use—especially rogue cultivators like him. At least that way, his failure could mean something.

This rogue cultivator had a few friends in his circle who were soul formation experts—some from the rogue cultivating community, others from prominent organizations. One was even a dean of the Jade Leaf Imperial Academy, while another was an elder of the Medical Saint Garden Sect. They were the ones who ensured his last will was honored.

Putting the altruism aside, the habit of peak domain experts taking their time to break through—sometimes delaying for tens of thousands of years—finally made sense to Yang Qing. Ren Shu went on to explain that of the three tribulations, the one that tested one’s understanding of the Grand Dao was the easiest to overcome, since you could prepare for it.

But when it came to the other two—the ones that tested the heart and the spirit—those were different. You couldn’t prepare for them in the same way, given how esoteric they were in both what they tested and how they tested it. There was no guide to follow, no universal method, as each trial was unique to the individual.

As such, the only real preparation, as Ren Shu put it, was to make sure you covered all the holes you had as a person. Address everything. Ignore nothing.

Ren Shu said he took seven thousand years to prepare himself, two thousand of which he spent with his cultivation base sealed while roaming the continent, working as a part-time farmer on various farms—some for mortals, others for low-ranking sects. He even went so far as to craft a seal on his own memory, making himself forget he was a cultivator, so he could fully immerse himself in the mortal world. The seal only lifted when the two thousand years were up.

Going by that account, if Song Quan hadn’t reached the soul formation realm when he wrote those two journals, then their age was likely far older than Yang Qing had originally estimated.

I wonder if Ren Shu or somebody at the Order knows him, Yang Qing thought, filing away yet another thing to confirm when he returned to the Order.