Amon, The lowest tier disciple in the Insanity Sect

Back at the sect, I was summoned to the Elders' Hall. Again. At this point, it was practically my second home, except with less comfort and more scowling old men.

Elder Wei sat at the head of the room, looking somewhat… pleased? That was new.

"You did well, Amon," he said, his voice carrying a surprising hint of approval. "Acting as bait to lure the bandits out was a success. Here is your reward."

He handed me a sword. Not just any sword—a sleek, black katana. It looked sharp, ominous, and way too cool for someone like me.

"Ah," I stammered, hesitantly taking the sword.

Elder Wei chuckled. "You don't seem to have much talent for cultivation, so perhaps you can practice with this. And," he added, as if he'd been saving the punchline, "there's a competition at the sect's school in a month."

My stomach dropped. "A competition? But I haven't even studied anything! I've barely been here two days, and I got thrown into a mission!"

Elder Wei laughed heartily as he walked toward the door. "Oh, you'll figure something out. And if you can't, well… you do have a mastery in sweeping floors."

The door shut behind him, leaving me standing there, clutching the katana.

I looked down at the blade, its black surface gleaming faintly. "At least I got a cool-looking katana," I muttered, strapping it to my waist.