Chapter 141: Chapter 141: The Age of Decline?
The Divine Arena.
It was not rely a building; it was a testant to the celestial engineering that only a clan with a hundred thousand years of dominance could conceive.
Carved from the heart of a fallen star and reinforced with millions of defensive runes made of liquid starlight, the structure was a gargantuan bowl that seed to cradle the sky itself.
Its scale was so incomprehensible that it defied the limits of mortal vision; the seating tiers rose up like artificial mountains, layered in rows that could comfortably accommodate hundreds of millions of spectators.
Even the atmosphere within the arena was managed by ancient arrays, ensuring that every seat, from the lowest stone bench to the highest jade balcony, was saturated with a Qi so thick it shimred like a golden haze in the afternoon sun.
At this mont, the air was a chaotic symphony of whispers, gasps, and the hum of spiritual energy as the masses gathered.
At the very edge of one of the premier front-row balconies, Xia ngyao and Luo Mingye stood side by side, their hands gripping the cool, white marble railing as they stared down into the vast, sandy expanse of the combat floor miles below.
"Whoa~!" Luo Mingye muttered, her voice trembling with a mix of awe and a strange, nervous energy. "ngyao, look at this! This place is massive! I feel like I could spend ten lifetis here and never see the sa corner twice. And the Qi... it’s so dense and pure that I feel like my own cultivation is trying to break through just by standing here! Truly worthy of being the heart of the Shen Clan!"
Xia ngyao remained silent, her crimson hair fluttering in the artificial breeze created by the cooling arrays.
She didn’t possess her friend’s bubbly enthusiasm; instead, her eyes were sharp, scanning the various VIP booths that floated like lanterns above the arena floor.
She agreed with Luo Mingye’s assessnt, but her mind was occupied with a far more clinical curiosity.
She is the Heavens Chosen of the Flower Mountain Sect, and her life was defined by the blade.
She wanted to see the "Crowns." She wanted to witness the pinnacle of the Shen bloodline and compare the weight of her own soul against theirs.
She didn’t harbor the delusion that she could match a monster like Shen Haoran—in fact, she doesn’t even believe that anyone can co close to being his equal.
But she needed to know the distance. She needed to see if the gap between a "genius of the central region" and a "genius of the imperial capital" was a mountain she could climb or a void she could never cross.
Behind them, standing as still and silent as a gargoyle, was Xiao Chen. His arms were crossed, and his face was a mask of cold indifference, but his heart was a boiling cauldron of resentnt.
To him, the splendor of the Divine Arena was an insult to everything he had fought for.
He felt the quality of the Qi in the air—better than the most sacred ditation caves of his own sect—and he could only think of the unfairness of it all.
’Geniuses?’ he thought bitterly, his fingers twitching near his storage ring. ’They are just spoiled brats born with silver spoons in their mouths. They’ve been fed thousand-year-old elixirs since they were in the womb and practiced in environnts that would make a commoner a god. They didn’t earn this.’
Unlike him, he told himself, who had risen from the ashes as a prince abandoned by his kingdom, surviving on scraps and the blood of his enemies.
He glanced inwardly at his storage ring, touching the ntal imprint of the forbidden inheritances he had scavenged from the corpses of fallen experts.
’Hmph. Shen Haoran? The Shen Clan? Enjoy your sunshine while it lasts. One day, I will be the one standing on the high stage, and I will trample your pride into the dust.’
In another quadrant of the arena, separated by a localized spatial barrier that ensured privacy, Bai Wenxin sat perfectly still.
The "Purple Pearl" of the Purple Sky Immortal Sect looked like a statue of ice, her long purple hair cascading over her black and purple robes.
Her red eyes were fixed on the empty arena floor, projecting a coldness that made the air around her crystallize.
"It is said that Shen Haoran is the number one genius of this entire era," whispered the woman standing behind her. "Various rumors are circulating, but it is believed that he is the reincarnation of an immortal."
This was Lin Xui, a Profound Saint who acted as Bai Wenxin’s guardian during her every trip.
"The Ruthless Empress, the Empress of Forbidden Creation, and the Conferred Tyrant of the Twelve Realms," Bai Wenxin spoke, her voice like the cracking of a glacier. "Those three sisters are considered the pinnacle of power in our current epoch. It is only natural for their own blood, the fruit of such terrifying lineages, to possess talent that defies human comprehension. It can be said that Shen Haoran is the concentrated essence of the Shen Clan’s pride."
Lin Xui nodded slowly. "Indeed. And he is not just a hot-house flower. From the intelligence we’ve gathered, he has been hunting demonic cultivators in the untad wilderness since he was eight years old. He has more confird kills than most veteran generals, so he is definitely not just so greenhorn."
"Aunt Lin, don’t be so easily impressed by the obvious," Bai Wenxin countered. "Every descendant of the Shen Clan is sent into the wilderness to hunt. It is their tradition, their ’Trial of Blood.’ In fact, according to the secret records of our sect, you aren’t even considered a true Shen unless you’ve been baptized in the blood of at least a thousand heretics. It is a brutal system designed to weed out the weak."
Aunt Lin looked taken aback, her eyes widening. This is the first ti she was hearing this, and it wasn’t really that surprising.
After all, this was a detail of the Shen’s internal culture that was rarely discussed in the outside world. "Impressive. They truly deserve their reputation as the strongest of the Nine Immortal Clans. Their ruthlessness begins at ho."
"Maybe," Bai Wenxin muttered, her gaze shifting to the empty high throne where the Shen Clan matriarch would eventually sit. "But haven’t you noticed sothing, Aunt Lin? Ever since the generation of those three sisters, there hasn’t been a single outstanding talent to erge from the Shen Clan until Haoran himself. The ’Ten Crowns’ of the previous few decades were competent, yes, but they weren’t legends."
Lin Xui thought back through the historical records of the last few century and slowly nodded. "You’re right. There was a lull in their brilliance."
Bai Wenxin looked up at the boundless sky of the domain. "The Shen Clan has been around since the ti immorial, but they only truly beca a hegemon a hundred thousand years ago, when they produced their first Supre Emperor. Since then, they have dominated several consecutive ages, even producing a few genuine Immortals. But no force can last forever, no matter how great."
Lin Xui tilted her head. "What are you suggesting, Wenxin?"
"There was once a Seer who proposed a cycle of civilizations," Bai Wenxin explained, her red eyes narrowing. "He theorized that every dominating force has a spiritual lifespan of roughly 20 to 30 thousand years. He summarized these lifespan into several stages: the Age of Pioneers, the Age of Conquests, the Age of Comrce, the Age of Affluence, the Age of Intellect, and finally... the Age of Decadence and Decline."
Lin Xui furrowed her brows in thought. "But Wenxin, the Shen Clan has been a dominant power for a hundred thousand years. That seer doesn’t seem that reliable."
Bai Wenxin nodded, "No, it just shows that the Shen Clan was just way too big of an anomaly. But now, many people believed that the Shen Clan is now entering the age of decline."
Just then, Bai Wenxin pointed a slender, purple-nailed finger toward the crowded stands around them. "Look at the people here, Aunt Lin. Most are here for the spectacle. But the elders of the other Immortal Clans, the Sovereigns of the Immortal Sects... they are here to act as vultures. They are here to witness if this supre force is truly rotting from within. They want to see if this Shen Haoran, this boy they hail as the greatest talent of their lineage, can actually surpass the legends of the previous generation. If he fails to dominate, it will be the sign that they have truly been declining, and will a chance for the wolves to plan attack."
Lin Xui thought for a mont and nodded.
Bai Wenxin remained silent. Although that was the plan of many, that was only the most optimistic side.
Even if the Shen Clan was really in decline, as long as those three sisters, the sleeping Supres, and several Imperial Artifacts remained at the hands of the Shen Clan, then those who covet their hundred thousand year legacy would have to bow their heads.
Just then, the atmosphere in the arena changed as a massive, high-pitched hum vibrated through the air, silencing the hundreds of millions of voices in a heartbeat.
From the center of the arena floor, a beam of light shot upward, and a beautiful woman appeared, hovering in the air atop a glowing, crystalline flying sword.
She was dressed in vibrant ceremonial robes and held a long, stick-like artifact etched with amplification runes, having a long flowing black hair and srising brown eyes.
"Ladies and Gentlen! Residents of the Divine City and esteed guests from the Twelve Realms!" the woman shouted, her voice amplified so perfectly it sounded like she was whispering into everyone’s ear. "I am your host for this glorious occasion! Xiao Nanan! I can feel the heat of your passion from here! I’m sure every single one of you is dying for the tournant of the millennium to begin, right!?"
A roar of approval erupted from the stands, a sound so loud it physically shook the mountain-sized arena.
Hundreds of millions of people cheered, their voices rging into a single, tectonic force of excitent.
"I am too!" Xiao Nanan laughed, her sword spinning beneath her feet. "Then, by the authority that has been granted to ! I now declare: The Heaven’s Choice Tournant has officially begun! Let the heavens witness the strength of the Shen Clan!"
As she spoke, ten massive stone pillars began to rise from the arena floor, each one bearing a seated figure shrouded in a different colored aura.
These were the Ten Crowns, and the world held its breath as the first stage of the tournant was set.
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