His gaze traced the intricate contours of the Xuanwu sect, like a painter delicately capturing the essence of a masterpiece.
The sheer magnitude of the sect's imposing and majestic presence invoked a deep sense of awe within him.
It loomed over Whispering Pines village, stretching out before him like a behemoth, dwarfing the humble abode he called home.
The unexpected proximity of such a grand sect left him astounded, having spent three secluded years within the confines of the village, never venturing beyond its boundaries.
Fully aware of the ruthless nature that permeated the cultivation world, a knot of fear tightened in his gut at the mere thought of venturing outside the safety of the village.
Yet, as he gathered his thoughts and directed his gaze once more towards the Xuanwu sect, a tinge of disappointment washed over him.
The web novels he had avidly devoured depicted cultivation sects as sprawling entities, their size rivaling entire cities and galaxies.
In comparison, the Xuanwu sect appeared diminutive, its grandeur reduced to a modest scale.
From his elevated perch atop the hill, he surveyed the vast expanse of the Xuanwu sect, taking in its entirety in a single sweeping glance. Nevertheless, he swiftly reconciled himself with the situation. Deliberately opting for a smaller sect, he sought to maintain a low profile, avoiding the undue attention that would come from joining a grandiose establishment.
He understood all too well that such prestigious sects harbored no place for mere mortals like him.
Thus, he deemed his choice to be the most prudent course of action.
Undeterred by the sect's size, he set forth with unwavering resolve toward the imposing gate that beckoned him.
Its architectural magnificence left him breathless, a testament to the craftsmanship of bygone eras. Pointed arches soared skyward, adorned with intricate tracery and ornate embellishments that whispered tales of a forgotten splendor.
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The gate stood as a testament to the sect's grand purpose, radiating an aura of majesty that stirred something deep within his soul.
But his eager steps were abruptly halted by the guards stationed at the gate, their scrutiny piercing his determination.
"A mere mortal, what brings you to this sacred place?" one of the guards inquired, his voice laced with curiosity and a hint of skepticism.
Satya, anticipating questions of identification or criminal record, replied with unwavering conviction, "I seek to join the esteemed Xuanwu sect and embark upon the sacred path of cultivation."
A derisive scoff escaped the guard's lips as he incredulously retorted, "You? Join the venerable Xuanwu sect? Have you even glanced upon your reflection in the mirror? And tell me, how many years have passed since your birth?"
"I am 33," Satya responded, his bewilderment palpable as he questioned the guard's scornful demeanor. "Why should my age matter?"
The guard's retort echoed with disdain, "Ignorant mortal! The age limit to commence cultivation is 21.
How could you be so clueless? Leave before I take action against you, and pray that you never set foot in this hallowed place again."
Confusion clouded Satya's mind as the guard's words shattered the foundations of his understanding. Wasn't cultivation an open path for all, regardless of age? Lingering questions gnawed at him, but he knew better than to challenge the guard's authority.
The mere flick of the guard's hand held the power to snuff out his existence.
Distancing himself from the gate, he sought solace in the sprawling fields nearby. Amidst the rhythm of swaying crops, he caught sight of a weary farmer,
seeking refuge in the shade after toiling relentlessly in the morning sun.
Approaching the farmer, Satya disrupted the tranquil interlude of the farmer's respite.
The farmer, taken aback by the unexpected company, regarded Satya with a mix of curiosity and reserve.
Satya, undeterred, plunged into a direct inquiry about cultivators and the intricacies of the enigmatic world he now found himself a part of.
Though lacking profound expertise, the farmer possessed a modest understanding of the basics and a reservoir of general knowledge about the realm.
Satya probed the farmer with questions about average life expectancy, the nuances of the revered Xuanwu sect, and other lingering uncertainties that weighed upon his mind.
The farmer, embodying the essence of goodwill, generously dispelled the majority of his doubts, offering a glimmer of clarity amidst the fog of confusion.
With his inquiries satiated and a newfound sense of purpose, Satya bid the farmer farewell, the weight of contemplation settling upon him once more.