IMMORTALS INFINITE PATHS

Shiny Stick

Duō Yī arrived at the pagoda, seeking a weapon for the impending martial battle. As he approached, Guards Wang and Li blocked his path, their sneers sharp as blades.

"What brings the clan's cripple here?" Guard Wang drawled. "Did you finally crawl out of your mother's shadow?"

Guard Li barked a laugh. "Maybe he's here to polish the dust off the armory. That's the closest he'll get to touching a real weapon."

Duō Yī ignored them, his expression cold. "I'm here to see Elder Lǐ," he said evenly.

Guard Wang folded his arms. "Elder Lǐ doesn't waste time on useless trash. Go back to your nursery before you embarrass yourself further."

Guard Li leaned in with mock sympathy. "Careful, Wang. If we bully him too much, he might run back crying to Madam Duō."

A flicker of irritation crossed Duō Yī's eyes. Without another word, he pulled a sealed letter from his robes, the wax gleaming in the sunlight.

The guards froze. Their faces drained of color.

"Y-Young Master…" Guard Wang stammered, his bravado collapsing.

"We… we didn't know you were here on Madam Duō's orders," Guard Li fumbled, bowing hastily. "Forgive us. Please, this way."

Duō Yī tucked the letter back, his voice flat. "Lead the way."

As they escorted him, the guards whispered behind his back, thinking him deaf to their mutters.

"Still pathetic, hiding behind his mother's seal," Wang sneered."Yeah," Li chuckled, "without her, he'd be less than nothing."

Duō Yī didn't react, but their words etched themselves into his memory.

At Elder Lǐ's residence, the guards announced his presence. Elder Lǐ emerged, his expression unreadable.

Duō Yī bowed slightly. "Elder Lǐ, I've come seeking your assistance. My mother provided this letter."

He handed it over. Elder Lǐ broke the seal, scanning the words with a blank expression. His eyes betrayed nothing.

The guards, emboldened again, muttered under their breath."Imagine that, wasting Elder Lǐ's time," Wang snickered."He thinks a scrap of paper makes him important," Li added.

Elder Lǐ's head turned, his gaze sharp as frost.

The guards fell silent instantly, their spines stiffening. Neither dared to meet his eyes. They scurried back like whipped dogs.

Elder Lǐ returned his attention to Duō Yī. "What is it you seek?"

Duō Yī spoke in a firm, formal tone. "I require a weapon for the martial battle."

"Hm." Elder Lǐ studied him, still unreadable. "Very well. You may enter the minor armory and make your choice."

Duō Yī bowed lightly. "Thank you, Elder Lǐ."

Inside the armory, rows of weapons lined the shelves—swords, spears, sabers, and staves. Duō Yī tested a few, each one feeling foreign, unbalanced in his hands.

Then his fingers brushed against a simple white staff. He swung it once, twice. Its weight sat naturally in his palms, its balance flowing with his movements as though it were an extension of his body.

It lacked ornament, lacked any visible qi resonance. To anyone else it was a polished stick. But in Duō Yī's hands, it simply felt right.

He carried it back to Elder Lǐ.

"This will be my choice," Duō Yī said.

Elder Lǐ arched a brow. "A plain staff? Are you certain? There are finer weapons here."

Duō Yī shook his head. "This one suits me. That is enough."

For the briefest moment, Elder Lǐ's lips curved—whether in faint approval or mild amusement, it was impossible to tell. "Very well. May it serve you well."

Duō Yī bowed and turned to leave.

Outside, Guards Wang and Li were waiting. They eyed the staff and burst into snickers.

"That's it? A stick?" Wang jeered. "Maybe he plans to herd goats with it."

Li doubled over laughing. "No, no—look at it. Perfect for swatting flies! Careful, Young Master, don't trip on your mighty weapon."

They leaned on each other, tears in their eyes from laughter.

Wang sneered after him. "He really thinks a stick will change what he is—a cripple swinging wood. Pathetic."

Li spat on the ground. "Let him dream. The martial battle will remind him of his place."

Their laughter echoed behind him as Duō Yī walked on, staff in hand. His face remained calm, but a quiet flame smoldered within.

The guards' words would not be forgotten.

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The days ticked by, tension simmering within the Duō Clan's younger generation. The descendant battle's arrival signaled a turning point in their lives.

The Duō Clan, a second-rate clan, boasted a membership of approximately four hundred and fifty cultivators. Within the Great Yán Province, martial clans were categorized into three tiers. A third-rate clan required at least two members with a cultivation level at the Fifth Stage of the Qi Gathering Realm, supplemented by various elders. This modest requirement allowed smaller clans to maintain their standing.

Second-rate clans, like the Duō Clan, needed at least one member at the Seventh Stage of the Qi Gathering Realm or twenty cultivators at the Fifth Stage. The Duō Clan's standing was secured by Duō Yī's father, who had reached the Seventh Layer of the Qi Gathering Realm. Rumors whispered that Elder Lǐ, residing in the pagoda, possessed an equivalent or surpassing cultivation level.

First-rate clans demanded a member at the Qi Gathering Realm's peak – the Ninth Stage – or ten cultivators at the Eighth Stage. These elite clans wielded significant influence within the province.

Within the Great Yán Province, two prestigious first-rate clans held sway. Five second-rate clans, including the Duō Clan, vied for power alongside fifteen third-rate clans. Unrated clans lingered in obscurity, struggling to make a name for themselves.

As the descendant battle commenced, the Duō Clan's younger generation converged on the clan grounds' battle theater. Duō Yī, staff in hand, joined the gathering. His heart pounded with anticipation. The battle's outcome would reshape the clan's future.

As Duō Yī entered the battle theater, the murmurs of his clansmen swelled like a tide.

"That's him… the cripple dares to come.""What's he holding? A staff? Hah, he must be desperate.""If he lasts even one round, I'll eat my boots."

Others, quieter, whispered differently:"Still, there's something in his eyes…""Don't underestimate him. We might be laughing now, but…"

The theater's grandeur was awe-inspiring, its architecture a testament to the clan's history and prestige. Intricately carved wooden pillars supported the high ceiling, while the floor was covered in smooth, polished stone.

The clan's complex hierarchy was evident in the seating arrangements. Elder Lǐ and Duō Yī's father sat at the highest platform, flanked by senior elders whose wisdom and cultivation had earned them respect. The remaining seats were allocated based on cultivation level and family standing.

Duō Yī spotted his cousins, Duō Zhēn and Duō Líng, near the front. Their father, Duō Yī's uncle, was a respected elder whose counsel was sought by many. The trio exchanged cold glances, their rivalry palpable.

As the participants took their places, the air thickened with tension. Clansmen and elders whispered among themselves, speculating about the battle's outcome. The Duō Clan's reputation hung in the balance.

Duō Yī's thoughts turned inward, his resolve hardening. He must succeed in this battle to secure a spot in the White Crane Sect. Only then could he unlock the secrets of cultivation, extend his lifespan, and surpass the limitations of his mortal body.

Near the front, Duō Zhēn exuded confidence. His eyes gleamed with ambition, fueled by the desire to propel the Duō Clan to unprecedented heights. "If I crush Duō Yī before the elders, none will ever doubt my claim as heir."

Behind him, Duō Líng wore a determined expression. Her mind raced with strategies, weighing the strengths and weaknesses of her opponents. "He is nothing more than an obstacle. I will sweep him aside."

To the side, Duō Chóng trembled with anxiety. His eyes darted between the elders and his fellow competitors. "If I lose before even Duō Yī… Father will never acknowledge me."

Near the back, Duō Hào sneered openly. "The cripple dares bring a stick onto this stage? I'll snap it… and him." His gaze swept the gathering with disdain, already savoring his imagined victory.

Duō Róng, a quiet and reserved descendant, meditated calmly. Her eyes shone with an inner light, her thoughts focused on the upcoming battle. "May the strongest prevail."

Duō Kūn, a burly descendant, cracked his knuckles. "Time to show them my strength. I'll crush whoever stands before me."

Then Elder Lǐ's voice cut through the noise like a blade. The weight of his qi rolled across the theater, pressing down on the younger generation. Several juniors stiffened as if their very breath had grown heavy.

"The descendant battle will commence shortly," he intoned. "Let the clansmen demonstrate their strength."

Silence blanketed the arena. Even the boldest whispers died.

After a long pause, Elder Lǐ stood, his presence commanding attention. "The time for speculation has passed. Let the rules of the descendant battle be announced."

"The battle will be conducted in a knockout format. A participant will be considered defeated if they are knocked off the platform or rendered unconscious. Killing blows are strictly forbidden…" His eyes flicked toward the younger generation, his tone turning like iron. "Yet accidents are not uncommon. Be mindful."

A ripple of unease ran through the competitors. Some smirked knowingly, as if already plotting how to make such "accidents" happen.

"Each match will be observed by designated elders: Elder Duō Wén, Elder Duō Jiān, Elder Rén, and Elder Liàng. They will intervene if necessary. The winner of each match will advance to the next round, until only one remains."

"The battle will not be halted unless a participant announces their surrender or is deemed unable to continue. Let this serve as a reminder: the strongest will claim the right to join the White Crane Sect."

With the rules declared, Elder Lǐ's gaze swept across the gathering. His eyes lingered on Duō Yī for a fraction too long, unreadable.

The theater seemed to hold its breath. Descendants tightened their fists, weapons glinted in the light, and every heartbeat hammered against the silence.

The descendant battle had begun