Chapter Thirteen: The Contest Begins

Upon returning outside the small cabin, Su Yizhao did not immediately enter. He stood outside for several breaths, only proceeding to the corner of the wooden house after making sure there was nothing unusual nearby. There, several fist-sized stones lay scattered about, placed haphazardly. He bent down and reached his right hand into the air. As if grasping something invisible, a ripple shimmered in the void as he drew his hand back. A piece of transparent cloth appeared in his grasp. With a thought, a flash of violet light flickered and vanished into his storage pouch. He unfolded the transparent cloth, which was only about the size of an ordinary person’s head. He had acquired it after slaying a rogue cultivator. Though small, it could shield one from a cultivator’s spiritual sense—an extraordinary item that had earned him many merits during law enforcement missions.

He returned to the cabin and sat cross-legged, his bright eyes fixed intently on the closed wooden door. Only half a month remained until the competition. How much would the Grand Elder raise the difficulty this time?

“Master...!” From midair, Li Xiyue’s voice had barely sounded when it was immediately interrupted. “Xiyue, Su Yizhao is indeed outstanding, even exceptional,” came the Grand Elder’s emotionless voice. Li Xiyue’s eyes lit up.

“But only relative to the Profound Qi Sect,” the Grand Elder continued, his tone devoid of feeling. “Once you reach the main sect, you’ll discover that there are plenty who surpass him tenfold, a hundredfold.” Li Xiyue’s expression dimmed, and she pleaded, “Master, please don’t make the competition any harder. Or at least, don’t make it too difficult!”

“Since you’ve asked, I’ll increase it—somewhat appropriately.”

“This...!”

Lisha City, Profound Qi Sect.

Over a thousand disciples gathered in the square. Today was the day they would depart for the competition. Su Yizhao, clad in blue, stood quietly at the edge of the square. Sixteen cities, sixteen Profound Qi Sects. Each sect sent a thousand participants, making for sixteen thousand cultivators. Yet among them, only sixteen would be admitted to the main sect.

He slowly made his way into the crowd.

Suddenly, sensing something, he turned around. A tall young male cultivator was walking straight toward him. Surprise flickered in his eyes. It was none other than his senior brother, Shi Feichen.

“Senior brother, you—you’re here?”

Shi Feichen laughed heartily. “Junior brother, just joining in for the excitement!”

Su Yizhao couldn’t help but find it odd. “You once said you’d never leave here unless you wore the gold medallion.”

“Well, things have changed. It wouldn’t hurt to visit the main sect and see for myself,” Shi Feichen replied lightly, though Su Yizhao caught a trace of gravity in his eyes.

At that moment, a voice rang out: “Disciples of the eighth hall, follow me to Linhai County City!”

Su Yizhao looked up and saw a figure rising into the sky.

“The sect master himself is leading the group?”

“Yes, really the sect master?”

“He’s at the Five Spirit Realm! Let’s go!”

As everyone discussed, they soared into the sky one after another. In an instant, more than a thousand cultivators took flight like a flock of birds, blotting out the sky as they headed northwest.

Su Yizhao, of course, recognized Sect Master Wan Gaofei. When he had once worn the Law Enforcement Hall’s gold medallion, he’d had the honor of meeting the sect master and receiving his encouragement.

“Junior brother, let’s go!” Shi Feichen called, then took to the air as well.

Su Yizhao gazed at the dense throng, sighed softly, summoned his flying sword, and followed close behind.

They sped along for three days before finally arriving. In the distance stood a grand city, yet their destination was clearly not the city itself, but the vast open space outside its walls. On the open ground, fifteen groups of cultivators sat in meditation at various spots.

Before they could land, a voice rose from below. “Wan junior brother, who would have thought that with your weak cultivation, you’d also be the last to arrive? Have you already lost hope?”

Wan Gaofei snorted coldly. “Senior brother Yan, you’re not much better yourself.”

As everyone descended with Wan Gaofei, the atmosphere on the broad open ground felt tense, even stifling. From above, the groups seemed small, but upon landing, it became clear that each of the fifteen groups numbered over a thousand cultivators—presumably the other cities’ teams.

“Haha, I’m at least a bit better than you. Care for a wager?” one called out.

Wan Gaofei, standing in front of his group, gave a slight shudder, then slowly turned, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. Su Yizhao felt his eyes linger on him for a moment before finally settling on a tall, burly cultivator.

“Why not? Anyone else want to wager? I’ll take them all!” Wan Gaofei declared.

Su Yizhao and his fellows felt themselves stiffen involuntarily. Originally, the competition to enter the main sect was just a talent selection. But at some point, the stakes among the sixteen sect leaders had grown ever higher, and the matches themselves had become increasingly ruthless. In recent years, any group that joined a wager suffered heavy casualties—almost total annihilation.

Su Yizhao, who had long danced on the edge of life and death, had heard these stories. Though the pressure was immense, he faced it with equanimity.

“Wan junior brother rarely participates, yet this year he’s so bold. I, from Ningjiang City, am in!”

“Haha, I, from Taishan City, as well!”

“Perhaps Wan junior brother has secretly trained some disciples? I, from Dairao City, must see for myself!”

One after another, the other fifteen cities joined in.

“Sixteen cities, all participating—this is a first! The stakes are high, but I like it!” someone laughed.

The rules were simple: the wager was settled by how many from each city entered the main sect. As long as a city kept even a single entrant, they couldn’t lose outright. If a city managed two, it meant another city would have none—and that city would be ruined. For every person short, one owed 160,000 spirit stones. For every deficit against other cities, one paid accordingly.

Of all the cultivators present—over ten thousand—perhaps Su Yizhao alone was not calculating spirit stones. Hidden among the crowd, his gaze swept slowly over those gathered. How would the Grand Elder increase the difficulty?

Suddenly, a distant voice from the city called out, “Now that everyone is here!”

Everyone looked up. A cultivator with black hair and a white beard, his face icy, arrived with the voice.

“I’ll only ask once: does anyone wish to withdraw?”

At once, a hundred cultivators from the crowd flew away.

“Each group will consist of two cities. You will enter one of eight trial mines around the county city,” the cultivator commanded coldly from the air. “You have one hour!”

The sixteen sect leaders wasted no time, swiftly forming groups and leading their people to the designated directions with practiced ease.

Rumor had it that Linhai County City was built atop a massive mine. After the spirit stone veins were exhausted, the Profound Qi Sect transformed the mine into a trial ground. Within the mine were countless arrays; once an array was unlocked, the trial would begin in earnest, with all manner of ghosts, illusions, and demonic cultivators awaiting. Anything that could be encountered on this continent might appear there, depending on the mood of the cultivator overseeing the arrays.

Su Yizhao followed the others into the array. Was this the increased difficulty the Grand Elder had promised? He looked at his fellow disciples with a hint of sympathy in his eyes—yet what shone brighter there was an unyielding determination and resilience.