I Become Sect master In Another World

The wilderness of the Grand Beast Canyon stretched endlessly, a scar upon the land carved by time and violence. Towering cliffs clawed at the heavens, jagged and merciless, their shadows swallowing the forested valleys below. Mist rolled across the abyss like a restless tide, shrouding the canyon in a veil of mystery. Even the air here was heavy—thick with the scent of iron and beast blood.

For centuries, the canyon had been a graveyard of monsters and men alike. Now, it was beginning to stir once more.

Below, the canyon floor lay smothered in perpetual mist, thick as a living thing. It coiled through the ravines like pale serpents, rolling and twisting until entire valleys vanished beneath its veil. From within that suffocating fog, beastly roars echoed from time to time—some deep and guttural, others sharp and ear-splitting, carrying the promise of predators that had ruled this place for centuries.

A faint rumble stirred beneath the earth, subtle at first, then growing until boulders trembled on their perches. Deep in the canyon's heart, an ancient stone altar stood half-buried in moss and creeping vines, its weathered surface etched with symbols eroded by countless years. Suddenly, a hairline crack split across the altar, glowing faintly with threads of golden light.

Then came the sword-qi.

Invisible blades erupted outward, cleaving through the mist. Massive boulders split clean in half; the ground itself was gouged with scars as if an unseen executioner had descended. Ancient trees toppled like grass scythed down in harvest. Even the fierce demonic beasts lurking nearby whimpered, their instincts screaming of danger. Some fled deeper into the wilderness. Others dropped flat to the earth, trembling in submission.

From that single crack, an aura seeped out—ancient, oppressive, sharp enough to cut through bone. It was the aura of Shadow Blade — An Ning.

The aura of Shadow Blade — An Ning.

Far above, on the canyon's rim, a group of cultivators in dark robes gathered. Their sect banners whipped violently in the wind, snapping like war drums. One elder narrowed his eyes at the altar below.

"It has begun," he murmured. His voice trembled, half in fear, half in greed.

A young disciple at his side licked his lips nervously. "That aura… it feels like thousands of swords piercing into my flesh. Is this really the inheritance of a Nirvana Realm powerhouse?"

The elder's eyes gleamed with hunger. "Not just his inheritance. Rumors say An Ning plundered the treasures of both the Fairy Empress and the Ghost Emperor. If even a fraction of that lies within… our sect will dominate kingdoms."

Across the canyon, other figures watched from the shadows—disciples clad in crimson armor, lone cultivators wrapped in ragged cloaks, emissaries bearing sigils of foreign clans. The world had already turned its gaze upon this place.

And the fissure had only just opened.

The ground trembled again, more violently this time. Cracks spread outward from the altar like veins of molten light, pulsing with sword intent. The mist churned and roared, scattering like torn silk, while a chilling wind swept across the canyon, carrying whispers that sounded like echoes of battles long dead.

Every cultivator present felt it—the call of destiny, and the promise of bloodshed.

The Secret Realm of Shadow Blade An Ning was waking.

Two Weeks Later — Sanatan Flame Sect

Sunlight spilled across the tiled roofs of the Sanatan Flame Sect, chasing away the last threads of dawn mist. Unlike the oppressive aura of the Grand Beast Canyon, here the world felt alive—warm, vibrant, and filled with purpose.

The clang of steel rang through the training grounds as disciples sparred in pairs, their movements sharp and vigorous. Elders observed from the side, guiding them with stern voices and patient eyes. The mouth-watering aroma of steamed buns and spiced tea drifted lazily from the kitchens, blending with laughter and the shouts of battle cries.

"Ha! Admit it, Luo Chen, I beat you fair and square. You lose again!" Wang Tian puffed out his chest, his sword pointed proudly at Luo Chen, sweat dripping down his brow.

"You call that a win?" Luo Chen scoffed, brushing dust from his robes. "You only landed that strike because I slipped on a loose stone. Next time, I'll break through your sloppy defense in thre—thirty moves."

"Thirty? Even three hundred moves won't be enough!" Wang Tian retorted, grinning wide.

Disciples burst into chuckles, some cheering for Wang Tian, others egging on Luo Chen. Their friendly rivalry had long become a favorite spectacle of the sect—one that filled the courtyard with energy.

Not far away, the heavy gates of the Gravitational Training Chamber creaked open. Lin Shu and Elder Liya stepped out, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. Lin Shu wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, stealing a glance at Elder Liya in silence. The silence lasted only a heartbeat before both of them broke into laughter.

Elder Liya placed a hand on Lin Shu's shoulder. "I guess one week has passed since we entered the chamber. It's been a tough training."

Lin Shu clenched her fist, a proud grin lighting her face. "Of course. We have to work hard. We can't let them surpass us."

Still chuckling, the two best friends walked off together, their laughter echoing across the courtyard.

From the training grounds, Elder Wan caught sight of Elder Liya after so many days. A warm smile tugged at his lips as he watched her leave.

Meanwhile, In the Sect Main Hall.

Meanwhile, within the sect's grand hall, Shaurya sat upon his throne, one leg crossed over the other, chin resting on his right hand. A translucent System window hovered before him, scrolling through the vast Divine Weapon Vault.

After a while of browsing, he sighed. "Oh my Narayan. These weapons are too expensive. Tsch. Systu, are you really not scamming me?"

But then his eyes lit up. A faint smirk curved his lips. His finger tapped on an entry.

Skyfire Bow — Immortal Grade, High Tier. Cost: 1000 Dharma Points.

Can shoot three arrows within 24 hours. Each arrow is purely destructive, capable of instantly killing a Nascent Soul Stage Level 1 cultivator. No physical arrows required—the bow condenses the wielder's spiritual qi into bolts of golden-white light. Each arrow travels at near-light speed, unstoppable once released.

Shaurya burst into laughter. "I want to buy it."

> Ding… Congratulations, Host, for purchasing the Skyfire Bow, an Immortal Grade High Tier weapon.

With a flash of light, the bow materialized before him, floating majestically. It was elegantly curved, asymmetrical like a phoenix swooping mid-flight. Exceptionally light, it seemed built for unmatched speed and maneuverability, yet the aura it radiated carried immense weight. Its string was no rope—it shimmered like heat-distorted air, humming with a low, vibrant frequency.

Shaurya's grin widened. "Whoa… This is exactly what I wanted before entering the secret realm. Three arrows in twenty-four hours. That means I can kill three Nascent Soul cultivators in an instant. Impressive."

He stored the Skyfire Bow in his ring, stretched his neck, cracked his knuckles, and stepped down from the throne.

Scene shift.

The massive doors of Alchemy Hall swung open with a creak, and Elder Wan burst out, excitement spilling from him like a child on festival day. He leapt into the air, spun once, and landed gracefully near Elder Wu and the others.

Elder Wu tilted his head curiously. "Did something good happen?"

Elder Wan's laughter rang out. "Good is too small a word!" His eyes sparkled as he glanced sideways, spotting Shaurya strolling toward them with hands tucked casually into his pockets. Elder Wan waved eagerly. "Sect Master! I have completed the task you assigned me!"

Shaurya raised a brow. "Oh really?"

Elder Wan nodded firmly and extended his hand. A glowing green pill hovered above his palm, its surface inscribed with faint ancient patterns. A powerful spiritual aura radiated outward, making the air itself quiver.

The other elders stiffened, their eyes widening.

Elder Liya's voice shook. "Th–This… Is this… a Nirvana Pill?"

Elder Wu's jaw dropped. "What… Nirvana Pill… a real Nirvana Pill, right before my eyes?"

Shaurya took the pill, studied it briefly, then gave a thumbs up. "Very good, Elder Wan. I knew you could do it. How many have you refined?"

Elder Wan scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Well… I have refined fifteen more Nirvana Pills. And one Healing Pill, which I gave to Xiao Rui as you instructed."

Shaurya nodded with approval. "You've done a great job. Distribute the pills among the elders. The remaining nine pills—let's see… after giving them to the elders, distribute the rest to the top nine disciples of our sect."

Elder Wan bowed deeply. "Yes, Sect Master."

Shaurya slipped the Nirvana Pill into his storage ring, turned, and departed.

The moment he left, the elders exchanged glances, their eyes gleaming with hunger. As one, they surrounded Elder Wan.

Elder Liya. Elder Lin Shu. Elder Jian. Elder Feng Yu. Elder Wu.

All of them closed in at once.

Elder Wan chuckled awkwardly and began distributing the Nirvana Pills. One by one, the elders clutched their treasures tightly, eyes blazing with determination, before scattering to their chambers to cultivate.

When the last of them vanished, Elder Wan let out a long sigh. "Alright… Nine Nirvana Pills left. Let's see. The top nine disciples of the sect… Wang Tian and Luo Chen are obvious. That leaves seven." He counted on his fingers. "Xiao Rui, Lu Fang, Sheng Lu, Muo Qian, Su Quan, Jun Hua, and Lee Bie. Yes, those are the nine."

He inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, then broke into a grin. "Good. At least I know who's at the top."

With that, he turned on his heel and sprinted toward the training grounds, waving his arms excitedly. "Disciples! Come here!"

Far from the serenity of the Sanatan Flame Sect, the borders near the Grand Beast Canyon had already become a battlefield in all but name.

Sun dipped low in the west, casting jagged shadows across the barren plains. Dozens of cultivators stood assembled, their robes dark as storm clouds, their eyes glinting with hunger. They bore the sigil of the Blood Sabre Sect, a faction notorious for leaving rivers of corpses in their wake.

At their head stood Zhou Xian, a young man no older than Shaurya, yet the aura around him pressed like a blade against the skin. His sabre rested casually on his shoulder, its edge stained from an earlier kill.

He gazed at the mist-choked canyon in the distance, lips curling into a grin.

"So this is where the old ghost left his inheritance? Hmph… perfect. Let's see how many fools we can carve apart before we take it for ourselves."

Behind him, a scarred elder chuckled hoarsely. "The sect master is right to trust you, Young Lord. But be wary — there are many strong forces and that Sanatan Flame Sect will also come. Thier Sect Master, Shaurya… his name is already spreading. A flame that bright can either illuminate… or burn out fast."

Zhou Xian's grin sharpened. "Then I'll be the one to extinguish him."

Across the plains, another force gathered. Disciples of the Moonlight Pavilion moved silently under white banners, their footsteps leaving no trace on the soil. At their center stood a veiled woman, her eyes glimmering like cold stars.

She spoke softly, yet her words carried far:

"The Shadow Blade's realm will not tolerate the weak. But I wonder… will that new going famous Sanatan Flame Sect survive long enough to even step inside?"

Her voice was calm, almost musical, yet filled with venom.

Elsewhere still, lone wanderers, mercenary bands, and emissaries of clans advanced toward the canyon, each carrying their own ambitions — wealth, glory, vengeance, or simply survival.

Some sharpened their blades. Others whispered prayers to ancient spirits. But all eyes, whether greedy or cautious, were fixed on the abyss that was about to awaken.

The Grand Beast Canyon was no longer just a forbidden place.

It had become the convergence of fate.

To Be Continued…