The Floating Sky Arena buzzed with qi from thousands of spectators—elders, students, sect masters, and even rogue cultivators hidden in the crowd.
Above the ring, ten floating jade orbs hovered silently—each representing one of the Great Sects observing the Nine-Sect Summit Tournament. But even amidst that grandeur, all eyes now fixated on the center of the battlefield.
Li Xuantian vs. Zhan Wuji.
Zhan Wuji stood tall, armored in crimson spiritual steel that radiated heat like a smoldering forge. His eyes gleamed with pride, and his spear—named Sky-Sunderer—buzzed with divine fire.
"You're the so-called relic of the past," Zhan Wuji said, smirking. "Don't worry. I'll send you back to the grave you crawled out from."
Xuantian didn't answer.
He simply unsheathed his old, worn sword. Its blade looked cracked, dull, even broken.
Laughter echoed from the crowd.
"A broken weapon?"
"Is he serious?"
Zhan Wuji surged forward like a meteor.
"Heavenly Spear Art – Flame-Crushing Skyfall!"
His spear exploded with divine fire, streaking through the air with terrifying force. The stage cracked beneath him as the heat warped the arena's barrier. Even the elders watching narrowed their eyes in awe.
Xuantian raised his sword.
One slash.
Silent. Clean.
The spear shattered into ash.
Zhan Wuji froze.
Before he could react, a palm struck his chest—gentle, yet final.
His body flew backward across the arena like a ragdoll, crashing into the barrier with a sickening thud.
Silence.
Even the wind forgot to move.
Then—
> "Winner: Li Xuantian of Tianyuan Academy."
---
The crowd didn't cheer. They couldn't. They were stunned.
The top-ranked prodigy of the modern world had been defeated in a single move.
Yan Ruyue exhaled slowly in the stands. "He didn't even draw on ten percent of his strength."
Whispers turned into theories.
> "Who is he, really?"
> "Is he a hidden elder in disguise?"
> "Is he even human?"
---
After the match, Xuantian was approached by an elder of the Celestial Echo Sect—a plump, bearded man with a seemingly harmless demeanor.
"Congratulations on your victory," he said, bowing. "Might we speak?"
Xuantian studied him. "You're not here just to flatter me."
The elder chuckled. "Sharp. As expected. My sect would like to propose an alliance—should our disciples avoid each other until the finals. We both know the true prize is not simply victory... but the Crown of Aeons."
That name again.
Xuantian replied, "You know what the Crown really is?"
The elder's smile faded. "Only what old legends whisper—that it's alive, ancient, and perhaps… sentient. It's no ordinary treasure. It calls to those it deems worthy."
"Or curses them," Xuantian said, then walked away.
---
That night, Xuantian stood on the edge of the floating arena, staring into the storm clouds below. The wind was cold and sharp—like the gaze of an old enemy.
Yan Ruyue joined him. "You should rest."
He didn't answer.
She hesitated, then asked, "What if the Crown is a trap?"
"It is," he replied.
"Then why continue?"
"Because I need to know who set it."
He turned to her.
"And I have a suspicion… that the tournament is more than just a display of power."
---
Two days later, the next round began.
Among the sects, rivalries flared.
In the battle between the Heavenly Dao Pavilion and the Thousand Serpent Sect, a duel escalated into murder. A forbidden poison technique was unleashed, turning a promising prodigy into a lifeless husk before the elders could intervene.
A tribunal was held. Accusations flew. Blades nearly followed.
But in the end, the Council allowed the tournament to continue.
> "This is the way of cultivation," they declared.
"The weak perish. The strong move on."
The atmosphere darkened.
The tournament was no longer just a competition.
It had become a war of ideology—one where ancient grudges and hidden agendas came to light.
---
Chapter 9 Conflict Emerges: The Prize and the Power
Late that night, inside the Pavilion of the Grand Organizers, a secret meeting unfolded.
Several sect leaders gathered in a sealed formation. The air was thick with tension.
"The Crown of Aeons must not fall into the wrong hands," said Elder Mo of the Ice Lotus Sect.
"Do we even know who created it?" asked another.
"The old records say it was forged at the peak of the Divine Era," said Master Gu of the Serpent Sect. "By the last Star Devourer, before it fell into slumber."
"Then why offer it as a prize?" asked the Celestial Echo elder.
That question hung heavily in the air.
A voice from the shadows replied:
"Because whoever wins it... may unleash it."
All heads turned.
There stood a man in black robes with silver embroidery—an emissary from the Heavenly Council.
"We've kept it sealed for centuries. But the seal weakens. The only way to stabilize its spirit is to bond it with a host—a cultivator strong enough to contain it."
"Or foolish enough to try," someone muttered.
"But if someone like Li Xuantian claims it…" the emissary continued, "then perhaps the world has a chance."
Elder Mo looked troubled. "Or a new tyrant will rise."
---
Back in the contestant's quarters, Yan Ruyue stared at the new bracket.
Xuantian was set to face a mysterious rogue cultivator named Hei Xun, who had defeated his last opponent using soul attacks from a shadow dimension.
Oddly, no sect claimed Hei Xun.
No history. No origin. No background.
Just… silence.
That night, Xuantian meditated by moonlight.
In his soul world, the ancient cultivation tome he carried stirred.
A page turned on its own, revealing a single phrase:
> "Beware the child of the void. He brings no name, but the stars remember him."
Xuantian opened his eyes.
"This tournament… is awakening something ancient."
---