Flint’s gaze shifted towards Kain, his brow creasing almost imperceptibly.
In the world of the sect, Flint was seldom interested in the petty squabbles of ordinary disciples, but one like Kain could not be ignored.
Not only was he fad for his close companionship with Her Royal Highness the Saint, but Flint had also heard so details indirectly from Commander Lilith.
Kain and Seraphina had grown up together, their relationship cented long before they entered the Azure Origin Dao Sect. Even after one entered the inner sect and the other landed far away in the outer sect, the ties between them never faltered.
Flint broke his silence. "Do you know this guy?"
Ethan shrugged lightly, offering a calm, almost nostalgic smile.
"We had so interactions in the outer sect. I defeated him many tis back then. He’s not lacking in talent, he always finds weak people to bully."
Flint chuckled faintly and spoke with composed certainty, "Don’t talk about Soul Formation. Even Void Amalgamation could hardly threaten you."
"Senior Brother Flint, please don’t exaggerate," Ethan replied, lips curled in good-natured self-deprecation.
Not far away, Kain’s expression soured.
He had hoped his challenge would elicit so response from Ethan. Instead, seeing Ethan standing casually with other disciples, smiling and unconcerned, fueled Kain’s sense of humiliation.
Ethan, not giving Kain so much as a glance, simply responded, "Okay," his tone steady and indifferent as ever.
The exchange, sharp and bristling with unspoken history, drew the attention of many nearby disciples.
Most knew Kain well. His rise from obscurity in the outer sect, breaking through with undeniable talent, had placed him in contention as a favorite son of Serpentwind Peak.
The elders and senior brothers of Serpentwind held high hopes for Kain in this very tournant.
Yet, it was not only Kain’s talent or his battles that had made his reputation.
Rather, it was his close relationship with the saint herself. On no fewer than a dozen occasions, the saint had appeared in public with Kain at her side—stories of their childhood and the promise of their bond circulating widely in hushed, envious whispers.
It was an open secret among the sect: when the saint set out on her spiritual path trial, she would require four protectors—strong, gifted cultivators chosen for their loyalty and power. A decade ago, the Empress herself had assigned three cultivators as her protectors.
Yet, the winds of fate proved fickle: one lost their life on a harsh experience, while another stagnated, their cultivation never again blooming.
Now, the saint was left with a single confird protector, her other three seats still to be filled.
For many, Kain seed all but guaranteed a place at her side. No one could miss the montum building behind his na.
Discussions murmured through the crowd.
"Isn’t that Senior Brother Kain? Judging from his tone, he’s quarreling with soone."
"That Kain—so talented and so close to the Saint. It’s no wonder his na is always in the air."
"Talented? Sure, but his looks are average. Honestly, that other guy—the one arguing with him—he’s better looking. And that short-haired man next to him isn’t bad either."
"They both wear Azure Sky Peak robes. I haven’t seen them much. Their strength must be diocre. Offending Kain is courting disaster." Various voices, especially from the female disciples, floated around them, mixing admiration, jealousy, and idle speculation.
For Ethan, their talk was background noise.
In the Azure Origin Dao Sect—where fists and fate decide everything—only true strength could silence idle gossip. Anything else was less substantial than the morning fog over Serene Mirror Lake.
As ti wore on, the vast martial arts grounds filled with even greater crowds.
Bright streaks of light flashed across the sky—elders and dignitaries descending from the clouds and seating themselves on the imposing platform that presided over the valley.
Chairs, carved from mystic wood, lined the stage. The masters of the Four Peaks took their seats, each flanked by two or three revered elders from their respective peaks. The air thickened with silent power.
Elden, master of Azure Sky Peak, seated himself, all the peak heads had arrived.
Only an iron discipline kept the excitent from spilling over. Then, Bram Hollowglen, Serpentwind Peak’s master—a round man with a snowy beard and perpetually cheerful face—leaned towards the middle-aged man at his side.
"It’s ti to begin," Bram said, beaming with anticipation.
"Understood, Peak Master." The middle-aged man nodded sharply. His cultivation aura flared for an instant, and with a single bound, he leapt down into the arena’s center. Landing on the tallest stone platform, his presence alone drew all eyes and settled all chatter.
With a single shout—a voice imbued with deep spiritual force—he called for silence.
"Quiet!"
The words crashed through the crowd like thunder, quelling every whisper and stray murmur. Silence fell over the field, thick and tense.
The man’s head was upright, eyes like cold stars.
"I am the third elder of Serpentwind Peak, Dorian, host of this year’s martial arts competition. By the will of the four peak masters, the tournant now begins!"
He let the declaration settle before his voice bood out again, "By consensus of the peaks, the first challenge is a realm test. Any disciple below the Core Formation Realm will be eliminated imdiately. The rest will draw lots to determine their sparring opponents from among the survivors!"
An excited commotion rolled across the arena.
"What? The bar is so high? Only Core Formation or above?"
"I just reached Foundation Establishnt last month. Does that an I’m out already?"
"So what—what’s the use of watching weaklings fight? Core Formation is where things get interesting!"
So grumbled and cursed, but the verdict was final.
Dorian clapped his hands for attention once more.
"All registered disciples—co up for the realm test! Those who do not et the requirent will be eliminated!"
A third of the crowd stood up right away. Ethan and Flint, composed and unhurried, joined the flow of competitors moving toward the stone platforms at the center of the arena.
The field was enormous, the main platform surrounded by eight smaller ones—each prepared for duel and testing. Deacons on these platforms stood behind a gleaming artifact: a Jade Stone, carved by ancient technique to reveal a disciple’s spiritual foundation.
Each participant placed their palm on the stone. Only those with spiritual power dense enough—proof of the Core Formation Realm—could cause the Jade Stone to flare with radiant light. Those who failed left in silence or frustration.
Ethan and Flint found themselves side by side on one of the smaller competition stages.
A/N:
Extra Chapters
100 power stones - 1 Extra Chapters
200 power stones - 2 Extra Chapters
Capsule - 1 Extra Chapters
Massage Chair - 3 Extra Chapters
Luxury Car - 5 Extra Chapters
Magic Castle - 15 Extra Chapters
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