The tournament square buzzed with restrained excitement. Each of the three noble families—Li, Zhang, and Yun—occupied their respective pavilions, perched like islands around the vast arena. The Alchemist Association, however, took its place in the central viewing platform, a symbol of their authority and neutrality.
The air shifted as a middle-aged man in azure robes stepped onto the raised platform. His presence alone seemed to press down on the crowd. The restless murmuring quieted in an instant, as though nature itself bowed to his cultivation.
Wang Ji.
His gaze swept across the square like a blade, sharp and unyielding. The air vibrated faintly under the weight of his aura. Though only at the initial stage of the King Realm, his strength far surpassed that of any present—barring, perhaps, Elder Su.
Within their pavilions, the elders of the three families sat with stiff backs and clenched hands. Jealousy flickered in their eyes. The King Realm—how many of them had pursued it their whole lives only to fall short? The Grand Elder of the Li family, though the strongest among the seated elders, could only suppress a sigh.
Near the Alchemist Association's center seat, Elder Su leaned toward the young woman beside him. "Young Lady," he whispered, handing her a scroll containing information about the new arrival, "what do you think of the city tower sending a King Realm cultivator to oversee the tournament?"
Lu Yan didn't even glance at the scroll.
"Hmph," she replied coolly. "Broke through with luck. No sword intent, no Dao resonance... just a hollow title."
Though her tone was dismissive, inwardly she sighed. So this is how the City Tower views the rest of us? Sending their weakest King Realm cultivator as a show of superiority. The arrogance is only growing.
On the platform, Wang Ji noticed the reverent gazes of the elders and smirked inwardly. In the City Tower, he was often the lowest-ranked—a mere figurehead. But here, among these ants, he was a god.
"THE MARTIAL COMPETITION BETWEEN THE THREE FAMILIES BEGINS NOW!" His voice boomed like thunder, shaking the pavilion railings. "Participants may challenge the platform freely. Killing is strictly prohibited. Admission of defeat ends the match. Do you all understand?"
His gaze swept down again. The elders from all three families nodded with forced smiles.
Satisfied, Wang Ji stepped to the corner, arms crossed.
"Let the first two challengers come forth!"
A loud thump echoed as a round figure shot into the air and landed squarely on the stage, the platform creaking under his weight. The boy had a large belly, an even larger voice, and confidence that seemed disproportionate to his level.
"I am Yu San of the Zhang family! Seventh level of the Mortal Realm!" He pointed a thick finger toward the Li family pavilion. "Anyone from that side care to challenge me?"
Gasps and murmurs erupted from the crowd. The challenge was direct—and to the weakest among the families.
In the Li pavilion, several elders' faces darkened in fury. It was a blatant provocation. A slap in public.
Li Zheng narrowed his eyes, clicking his tongue. A lowly seventh-level mortal dares challenge us like this?
He turned and gestured toward one of his followers. "Li Da. Go teach this pig some manners."
The burly teen grinned and stood. Muscles rippled under his robe as he flew up onto the stage.
Lu Yan, watching from above, arched an eyebrow. Body cultivator... no intent... foolish choice.
Her brows furrowed slightly as she focused on Yu San. His appearance might be comical, but a faint aura of sharpness danced around him—sword energy.
Not true sword intent, but still the first significant step.
Yu San grinned. "Another meathead? Come then!"
Before Li Da could even flex his arms, Yu San burst forward with surprising speed, knife flashing in his hand. A streak of silver light cut through the air.
Crack!
A scream echoed across the square. The knife had pierced straight into Li Da's dantian, his cultivation base destroyed in a heartbeat. The boy collapsed, blood dripping from his mouth.
Gasps filled the arena.
"Crippled... with a single strike?!"
"Li family's younger generation is this weak?"
"Shameful!"
The Li family elders clenched their fists. Their faces were black with rage and humiliation. One of their own had been publicly crushed. And by someone of the same cultivation realm.
Li Zheng stood, face pale. He hadn't expected this.
That fatty... wasn't simple after all.
Without hesitation, he leapt onto the stage, saber drawn. His eyes glared at Yu San with seething anger.
Yu San looked at him and snorted. "Ah, the great Li Zheng himself. Now you send your strongest to bully me? Impressive."
"You talk too much," Li Zheng muttered, smirking as his saber gleamed. "Even if I bully you... what can you do about it?"
The saber flashed. It moved like a silver arc of moonlight, refined and swift.
Yu San's smirk vanished. His instincts screamed. He didn't try to block. Instead, he jumped off the stage, landing roughly on the stone floor. A moment of stunned silence followed.
The rules were clear—leaving the platform meant forfeiting the match.
Li Zheng stood tall, saber gleaming in his hand. "Running away already?" he sneered. "That's what you all should've done instead of embarrassing yourselves."
He turned toward the Zhang and Yun pavilions with arrogant disdain.
The crowd, now boiling with excitement, erupted into murmurs again.
But before the Li family could even bask in the minor victory, a wave of applause spread from the east pavilion.
A young man in white robes stood and walked forward.
"YUN HAN!" someone shouted.
Gasps followed.
The genius of the Yun family.
Youngest among the three families to break through to the General Realm. His appearance was elegant, calm, and precise. A saber was strapped to his waist, and with each step he took toward the platform, girls in the crowd blushed and squealed.
"Beautiful and deadly..."
Yun Han stepped onto the stage and looked down at Li Zheng with amusement.
"A weakling mocking another weakling?" he said coolly. "How quaint. I'll give you a chance to surrender now... before I make you kneel."
Li Zheng's face turned dark with fury. This was my stage! His saber tightened in his grip. You think you can steal it from me?
With a roar, he launched himself forward, saber flashing with brute force.
From the pavilion, Lu Yan watched the scene unfold with a sigh. "Face-to-face against a General Realm cultivator with saber intent? Idiot. He's digging his own grave."
She leaned back, ready to watch the disaster unfold—until something in the crowd caught her eye.
She froze. Her pupils narrowed slightly.
There, among the commoners, sat Li Yang.
His clothes were simple, his posture relaxed, and in his eyes danced a trace of amusement—as though he'd been watching a well-rehearsed play.
A small chuckle escaped her lips. "So... you've been here all along."
She raised her teacup and took a slow sip, her gaze never leaving the boy in white.
Let's see what you've planned next, fox.