Naked Sword Art

Chapter 485: Sect Classification

There were 5 classifications for sects, determined entirely by the cultivation realms of their ruling leaders and core elders and core disciples.

The strength required of their members must be as followed:

(Core Elders → Leader)

1st-Grade Sects: Origin → Scholar

2nd-Grade sects: Lord → Sky

3rd-Grade sects: Star → King

4th-Grade sects: Dragon → Emperor

5th-Grade sects: Immortal

Although 1st-Grade Sects were the weakest, they were what most sects aspired to become. Not even the Divine Sword Sect was considered a 1st-Grade Sect.

Typically 2nd-Grade Sects often had influence that spanned over multiple provinces, just like the Heavenly Fate sect did.

3rd-Grade Sects were extremely powerful—led by a cultivator in the Heavenly King Realm cultivator, supported by elders in the Heavenly Star Realm. These sects could shift regional politics with a single decree. And their kingdom spanned over several countries.

4th-Grade Sects stood at the absolute pinnacle of the continent. Their leaders were Heavenly Emperors, and even their strongest Elders stood in the Heavenly Dragon realm. A single Elder could level a country with a breath. Naturally, their influence spanned over a continent.

In the northern continent of Yuhuang, the Heavenly Flame sect held that title alone. However, a few 3rd-Grade Sects, like the SkyCloud sect, weren’t too far behind in strength.

5th-grade sects have not existed in this continent for over 30,000 years, but rumors of it emerging again in the next generation was spreading like wildfire.

.

.

.

The girl swallowed her arrogance.

"They’re all from 3rd-Grade Sects... Does that include the Heavenly Fate sect? Do they have strong cultivators here too?"

The Elder scanned again... then frowned.

"No. I don’t sense anyone from their sect beyond those three."

The Elder didn’t know much about the Heavenly Fate sect, hardly anyone did in this continent. From what he heard, they were actually a 2nd-grade sect, but what they lacked in cultivation, they made up for with a different kind of power. It was even rumored that their sect’s strength could easily rival a 3rd Tier sect.

’What kind of power do they possess? Do they really have control over fate?’ the Elder thought.

In no world could he imagine a sect with only Lord and Sky realms cultivators being able to challenge a sect with Heavenly Star and King realm cultivators.

It was too ridiculous to believe, he knew there was a trick to it, but he just couldn’t figure out what it was.

"Maybe their Elders are just late," the boy muttered.

Suddenly there was a shift in the atmosphere. The Elder stilled—expression sharpening. Slowly, he tilted his head upward.

The others followed, staring at the open ceiling which was the only entrance to the grand hall.

There was nothing... nothing visible. And yet—

The Elder’s voice dropped to a near whisper.

"...They’re coming."

The temperature of the room dropped—not colder, but heavier, as if the air itself became aware of who was approaching.

A sharp crack split the air.

From the open ceiling, ancient symbols ignited one after another, forming a colossal inscription circle suspended high above the hall. The lines glowed like living veins of light — pulsing, breathing, resonating with a force that made even seasoned cultivators shift uneasily.

There was no Qi being released... And yet every soul present trembled.

The Elder who had been quietly pondering the Heavenly Fate Sect’s abilities felt his thoughts collapse in on themselves. Controlling fate — he had always dismissed it as myth. Fate was an untouchable force, something no living being could ever truly grasp.

But the thing forming overhead...

’This fate... is this the power of a god?’

The Elder narrowed his eyes, studying the inscriptions woven into the massive circle above. Each glowing symbol seemed to pulse with intent, shifting in patterns his mind instinctively tried to decode.

His mind shook with every attempt to comprehend it, but he continued to do so till he suddenly coughed up a mouth full of blood and fell to a knee.

"Elder!" the young girl beside him cried, rushing to support him.

"I’m fine," the Elder reassured her as he wiped the blood from his lips.

He finally felt like he understood. This power of fate was a facade, their real power was their complex understanding and use of inscription formations.

Lightning rained down in thin, jagged streaks, not destructive but ceremonial — like the cracking of ancient chains being lifted from a sealed gate.

Murmurs spread instantly.

"What is that?!"

"That— that’s a formation circle!"

"It’s enormous!"

"How can an inscription formation be this big? This shouldn’t be possible!"

Everyone recognized the concept — inscriptions and formation circles were basic tools. They were useful for pills, weapons, barriers, concealment, and transportation.

But only at lower levels.

After reaching the Heavenly Realm, such methods were all but obsolete. No one — not even the greatest sects — relied on formations anymore. Their effectiveness simply couldn’t keep up with higher-realm cultivators.

And yet...

What hovered above them now was beyond anything they had ever seen. A formation so vast, so impossibly intricate, that even cultivators whose Qi shook mountains suddenly felt small.

Even the titans among them in the Sky Realm and Star Realm stared upward with heaviness in their chests.

The wind pushed down violently, as if to welcome the arrival of celestial beings.

"Matriarch Weili, is that really a formation circle?"

Yu Weili — King realm and Matriarch of the Evergreen Sect — looked up with crossed arms and a smirk on her pretty face.

"Not bad, little brother," she said to herself.

The formation pulsed once, and the space within its center rippled like disturbed water. Darkness surfaced—deep, vast, silent. Not shadow... but a void so empty it resembled the space between stars where even light refused to exist.

A murmur spread.

"...What is that?"

No one answered.

Then, slowly—like royalty descending from the heavens—thirteen figures stepped through the void. Their movements were effortless, controlled, and perfectly synchronized, as though gravity itself bowed to them.

They floated downward with quiet grace—no explosions of aura, no theatrics.

Just power.

Raw. Refined. Unquestionable.

"Are they—"

The crest woven into their robes made their identity unmistakable—Heavenly Fate Sect.

Unbeknownst to the audience, each one was a former Patriarch or Matriarch representing one of the thirteen provinces of the Heavenly Fate country—excluding the Chaos sect.

"...They’re strong," the Heavenly Flame girl whispered.

Her Elder said nothing—but his silence was an acknowledgment. Strength like that couldn’t be faked. No wonder the Heavenly Fate sect had been invited to this gathering despite the small size of their homeland.

Among the thirteen, one figure drew every gaze—without trying.

Not because of his appearance, or what he was wearing, but because his existence demanded attention.

Tall. Silver hair tied loosely behind him. A plain black robe hung open enough to reveal a physique carved like iron—yet somehow elegant.

His expression was unreadable. Calm. Almost bored. But behind that calm was a presence that felt like a sword pressed against every throat in the room.

"Elder..." the boy beside him whispered shakily. "Don’t we... know him?"

The Elder’s eyes locked onto the silver-haired man.

Recognition struck him like a blade to the neck—so sharply he almost tasted iron and blood as if his neck had been severed. Even the girl from the Heavenly Flame sect recognized him. Her voice lowered to a shocked whisper.

"Yeah... that’s—"

But the Elder cut her off. His voice was low—almost a growl—heavy with old grudges and unwelcome memories.

"Demon Hunter Kong."