Just then, the sky burst into brilliant radiance. Dozens of streams of rosy light swept across from the horizon—as if in the very blink of an eye, what had been distant suddenly descended to the balcony of the Floating Void Pavilion. When the dazzling radiance finally subsided, a group of two or three dozen cultivators was revealed. At their head stood an elderly Taoist with long, arched eyebrows, a broad and solemn face, and a pale, composed countenance. This was none other than Yan Longzi, the sect leader of the Wang-Liang Sect. Accompanying him were a mixed group of men and women—comprising the various peak masters and a dozen or so elders of the Golden Core stage. In a sect as vast as Wang-Liang's, there would normally be at least fifty or sixty Golden Core elders, but today only those directly responsible for managing the contest and overseeing the proceedings had come, along with a few others who were particularly interested in watching the competition.
Once the assembly had taken their positions, Yan Longzi scanned the area downward. Almost immediately a mighty pressure, palpable and fierce, surged from the sky. In an instant the chatter atop the platform fell silent; even the spirit beasts present began to tremble. And then just as suddenly, that force withdrew as quickly as it had appeared—a rhythmic ebb and flow, like the tide.
Satisfied that order had been restored below, Yan Longzi spoke in a clear, concise tone throughout the hundreds of acres. "This contest is held in preparation for next year's Secret Realm Gathering. As you must have heard, the event is split between Foundation Establishment and Condensation stages. For the Foundation contest there will be 200 participants, and for the Condensation stage, 430. In the Foundation round, only the top 49 will be selected, while in the Condensation round the top 108 will advance. Five days after the Foundation contest, the Condensation contest will continue. Let us begin."
His words were succinct yet authoritative. Even though his tone was measured and even, every soul within a radius of several hundred li clearly heard him.
After announcing the start, he strode purposefully toward the seating area. The other Golden Core elders followed his lead and took their seats, leaving only one lean, tall elder remaining standing.
Even Li Yan—positioned some dozens of li away—could hear everything clearly. He mentally calculated the daunting odds: from among 400 Condensation cultivators only 108 would be chosen. His own practical combat experience was scant and his spiritual energy was that of a late Seventh Level Condensation cultivator. Still, he was relieved that many had chosen not to participate today; otherwise, his confidence might have been even further undermined.
In the Wang-Liang sect, there are some seven or eight thousand Condensation disciples and only a few hundred Foundation cultivators. Today, however, many cultivators with non-combat specializations had not registered for the contest. Moreover, for the Condensation stage only those in the ninth and tenth levels were eligible, meaning that the overall numbers were reduced by more than half. And even within that smaller group, many non-combatants had been weeded out.
While Li Yan was lost in thought, a booming voice suddenly echoed over the skies. He looked up and saw that the lean, tall elder who had been standing by the balcony moments before was now levitating upward, arms crossed as he surveyed the nearly ten thousand participants gathered on the platform below.
"I am Peng Buxing, head of the Sect's Enforcement Hall," the elder announced in a voice that carried weight over the entire expanse. "For this contest there are ten battle stages. Opponents will be determined by drawing lots. Each contestant may fight up to five rounds; if you win three and lose two, you'll move on to the next round. Otherwise, you will be eliminated. Within the battle arena, both sides may go all out—though during life‐and‐death moments, a stage elder will ensure safety. As for injuries or incapacitation, you will have to bear the consequences yourselves."
The lean elder—his hair jet‐black and his face bearing a hue of deep purple and black—spoke without a trace of emotion. Li Yan felt a shiver of apprehension. In this arena, killing or inflicting fatal injuries was forbidden; however, grievous injuries were acceptable as long as the participants were left to recover on their own. If it weren't for this rule of non-lethal combat among fellow sect members, life and death might otherwise be taken lightly.
"Now, all Foundation Establishment participants from the various peaks, come forward to draw your lot numbers," Peng Buxing declared, his large sleeves sweeping in a grand gesture. Instantly, dozens of small, glowing red arrows began to hover in the sky like scattered embers. Then, Peng Buxing stepped back silently.
Soon, a hush fell over the area as vibrant beams of light began to flash upward from the five-sided diamond area below. Near Li Yan, a few beams of red light shot up toward the hovering arrows. Each arrow was identical, so each contestant simply reached for the one nearest him. As soon as it was grasped, the arrow transformed into a cluster of tiny red stars that danced into the sleeve of the contestant's cloak; next to the gold emblem of each peak on the indigo-green sect robes, a small red numeral appeared.
Glancing at the figure who had leaped upward and returned—Lin Da Qiao—Li Yan's eyes fell on the red numeral beside a small bamboo symbol on his sleeve: "79." A thought stirred within him. No wonder it was said that in a major sect event one must wear the sect robe—the measured markings on the robes were clearly part of an arrangement to record details.
At that moment, his Second Senior Brother and others had also returned. They were silent now, eyes fixed on the skies as they waited.
When Peng Buxing confirmed that the red light arrows had all been taken, he clasped his hands in front of his chest, raised them high, and bellowed. In response, across the sky, ten enormous crystal panels materialized out of nowhere. After a moment during which these panels glowed with shifting halos, they gradually clarified to reveal ten battle arenas. Li Yan and the others, watching from below, could see each crystal from every possible angle.
Though Li Yan had his suspicions about the arrangements, he remained cautious. Among the Little Bamboo Peak disciples present, he and three of his junior nephews were completely new to such sect matters. In contrast, Lin Da Qiao and others had already participated in a number of internal events, so the group of four felt less acquainted with these sudden changes.
"Behold, this is the 'Thousand Li Glowing Mirror.' Because each of these ten battle arenas spans approximately fifty li—and with gaps between them, the total area approaches hundreds of li—if you wished to spectate without assistance, you'd have to be either high in the air or extremely close to a battle stage to view it. Therefore, Elder Peng has employed his formidable spiritual power to activate the Thousand Li Glowing Mirror so that everyone here can clearly see all the matches. Simply choose the section that interests you most to observe. (Note, however, that the mirror is silent; only during the final three rounds, when those battles take place on a single stage, can you witness the full action.)"
As Li Yan pondered these words, a gentle voice rang out—it was Li Wuyi, always attuned to the needs of the newcomers. It was no wonder that Wei Chongran had entrusted many of the affairs of Little Bamboo Peak to him; now even he was thinking of the concerns of a junior like Li Yan.
After Peng Buxing had finished arranging the Thousand Li Glowing Mirror, he returned to the Floating Void Pavilion. Within a short time, ten individuals ascended, each making their way toward one of the ten battle arenas. Li Yan surmised that these must be the stage elders in charge of safety and the judging of the matches.
As the ten figures alighted above their respective stages, each carefully formed hand seals. Li Yan could see that from each of the ten crystal panels, a transparent blue shield slowly rose into the air—growing until it reached a height of several dozen zhang. Then, on each blue shield, a steady flow of blue light began to pulsate and eventually condensed to form two rows of small characters. Looking at one particular crystal panel, Li Yan read the blue inscription: "20" on one line and "63" on the next. No sooner had he noted these details than a resounding shout came from above: "Round One, lottery complete—let the contest begin!"
From the balcony of the Floating Void Pavilion, a group of about a dozen cultivators sat sipping tea and chatting casually. One particularly charming woman of about forty, with a graceful smile and twinkling eyes, remarked lightheartedly, "Senior Brother, it seems little Wei didn't come this time. Could it be that he's pushing hard for an upgrade to a higher stage?" Her eyes danced suggestively, and her full figure—reminiscent of a perfectly ripened peach, her fair, smooth bosom accentuated by the curve of her form—seemed designed to entice. The others quickly pretended not to notice her flirtatious tones, instead settling their focus on the sect leader.
Yan Longzi glanced at her briefly and responded coolly, "Sister Li, I cannot fully gauge little Wei's current level. However, it is clear that his body type is most suited to mastering the 'Infinite Nine Horizontal Scripture' of our master. He has been advancing in the Golden Core stage for over two hundred years in cultivation terms; judging by his pace, he might just be on the verge of reaching the mid-peak of that stage."
"But every time I face him, I sense that his aura moves in a way far beyond what I can compare," the charming woman continued, her tone both admiring and wistful. "My own cultivation of 'Thousand Faces of Reality' renders me exceptionally sensitive not only to every visual stimulus but also to a person's qi. It is said that our master searched for a true heir to the 'Infinite Nine Horizontal Scripture' for over a thousand years before he finally found someone like little Wei. That is truly an accomplishment. I too once yearned to cultivate it—but alas, the master never noticed me." While she spoke, her waist swayed gently, and her ample curves nearly smothered the expanse of the bamboo chair.
At that remark, the scholarly cultivator from Spirit Insect Peak, along with a burly man from the Four Symbols Peak and many other elders, quickly averted their eyes. Only one plain-looking, yet steely-faced, elder from Unyielding Ridge furrowed her brow but chose not to comment.
Yan Longzi saw that every time these meetings began, the mere presence of that sister would unsettle everyone. With a helpless sigh he murmured, "Master, the disciples you've taken on are so troublesome—every time this sister appears at a meeting, she stirs up anxiety among everyone. We are seasoned cultivators after all; yet her very presence is enough to throw us off balance."
Clearing his throat, he then swept his gaze across the assembled disciples, though he saw that no one from Little Bamboo Peak was there. "I hear that your niece, Changting, is said to have become quite close with that little one, Li Wuyi. Maybe you should arrange for them to settle things—that would be a fine match."
A ripple of conversation ensued. "I've heard that little Wei and Li Wuyi are always tangled up with each other. If Changting ends up getting hurt, I won't forgive it," one voice declared.
The discussion soon turned, with Yan Longzi noting, "Speaking of Little Bamboo Peak—aside from Li Wuyi, most of our Foundation Establishment participants have enlisted, including that one wounded disciple with a toxic body."
One voice remarked, "Oh, indeed. I heard that that disciple, despite being poisoned and battered, has now reached the mid-level of the Condensation stage. Just three years ago he was barely at the second level. His cultivation speed is astonishing—is it due only to the sect's resources, or does his toxin-afflicted body somehow accelerate his transformation?"
A voice from Unyielding Ridge, belonging to a plain-featured elder, replied coolly, "A mixed-type 'miscellaneous spirit root' should normally add about three levels in three years. That is on par with the prodigies of our sect. I'd be very interested in dissecting his physique to see what kind of aberrant changes have occurred."
"Do not mention this boy again," another elder cautioned firmly. "Since he's been entrusted to little Li Wuyi's custody, let the matter rest. I truly hope that someday the Foundation Establishment contest within our sect will bring forth an additional powerhouse. Now, let the contest begin. Let us watch."
Yan Longzi sighed inwardly at the rambling. Sometimes the elders got carried away with theories of dissecting people as though they were beasts. (If only the immortal world allowed human experiments, these things might have started long ago.) He, like the others, was eager for the meeting to start swiftly and simply. After all, many of the elders here had spent years studying poison techniques and were almost maddened by their own obsessions.
Li Yan, in his heart, could not shake the unsettling thought that even after all these years there were still those who sought to dissect him for study. It was an insolent reminder that even now, some still toyed with the idea of "experimenting" on living bodies.