The green stone plaza before the City Lord's Mansion in Drakeflare City gleamed under the gentle touch of the morning sun.
Darian, Seraphina Vale, and Selene stood side by side in silence. Words were unnecessary—one glance was enough to read the unspoken thoughts shared among them. Their bond had been forged in trials, quiet yet unbreakable.
Selene's aloof expression remained unchanged, but Darian knew it was simply her nature. His eyes swept over his two companions, and he nodded quietly to himself. After two days of rest, both had solidified their cultivation at the early stage of the Mortal Soul Cleansing Phase—steady, unshakable, and brimming with potential.
Seraphina's gaze was still cool, but no longer as frosted as before. When her eyes met Darian's, a flicker of attention—perhaps even concern—briefly shone through. Something about him felt different from just two days ago, though she couldn't quite name the change.
Suddenly, the air rippled.
Buzz—
Valtor descended from the sky, his presence heavy like a storm pressing against the earth. His gaze swept over them, followed by a satisfied nod.
"It seems you've all rested well. Good. No time to waste. As promised—your gifts."
With a graceful wave of his hand, three streaks of light shot toward them.
Darian caught his effortlessly. In his palm lay an ancient black ring—plain, yet heavy with purpose.
"This is—"
"A storage ring!" Selene's usual composure cracked, her voice tinged with excitement.
Darian's heart stirred at those words.
"That's right," Valtor confirmed. "Beginner-level, but each holds a space of one pace. Refine them with your Yuan Force. I've placed a few small items inside."
Darian channeled his Sacred Battle Qi into the ring. Since it was ownerless, refinement came swiftly. The inner space unfolded in his mind's eye—a neat, enclosed dimension, and within it, several white jade bottles.
With a thought, he stowed the cumbersome Starforged Reliquary inside. A jade bottle appeared in his hand. He unstoppered it, releasing a delicate fragrance.
"Mid-grade Tier-Two Essence Restoration Pills," Seraphina murmured, inspecting an identical bottle in her own hand.
One pill could swiftly restore Yuan Force during battle. In the Battle of the Thousand Realms, such an item could mean the difference between victory and defeat.
For a long moment, the three stood quietly, their rings heavy with meaning. Storage rings were treasures possessed only by clan patriarchs or senior elders—even for elites like Seraphina and Selene, they had always been distant luxuries.
They exchanged glances, then bowed deeply in unison.
"The City Lord's kindness will not be forgotten," Darian said steadily. "In the Battle of the Thousand Realms, we will give our all to bring glory to Drakeflare."
Valtor's gaze softened with a rare flicker of approval. The resources he had invested—the Yuan Force River, the Assault Dragon Formation, now these rings and pills—were no small offering.
"I've given you all I can. From here on, it's your turn."
The three nodded. Words were unnecessary.
"Enough talk. Time to go."
Buzz—
Yuan Force surged from Valtor, enveloping them. Together they rose into the sky, streaks of light cutting away from Drakeflare City toward the distant battlefield.
The Battle of the Thousand Realms—an ancient contest among the hundred main cities of the Eastern Lands, hosted every three years by the First Main City. Its origins were lost to time, but its purpose was clear: to unearth young prodigies and draw them into the First City's fold.
For countless young cultivators, it was the proving ground that could grant instant renown. This year, the event had been called early, stirring every city into a frenzy. Whispers said it would be the fiercest in decades.
Darian, Seraphina, and Selene knew none of this. Even if they had, their anticipation would only have grown sharper.
Hours passed as they flew across unfamiliar lands. For Darian, who had never left Drakeflare's walls, the world beyond was a tapestry of wonders. Yet the novelty soon faded. Settling cross-legged mid-flight, he slipped into cultivation. Seeing this, the others quietly followed—an unspoken acknowledgment of the man at the "dragon's head" in their formation.
As the hours wore on, the air grew warmer.
Whoosh—Buzz—
More and more lights flashed past—radiant treasures, colossal avian beasts, and cultivators streaking toward the same destination.
A presence equal to Valtor's surged ahead. Within it hovered two young men and a veiled young woman, her long, slender legs catching the eye despite her concealed face.
A sharp cry split the air. Darian turned to see a massive black bird, its wings spanning fifteen paces, bearing a tall elder with three oddly dressed youths trailing behind.
Then—
Clang!
A sword's cry tore through the sky. A massive blade of light streaked past, radiating pure killing intent. Darian's eyes narrowed. Faelan Virethorn… He still remembered the youth's words in the Primeval Forest. The memory ignited his battle spirit.
Selene's gaze blazed with hunger for competition, while Seraphina's icy mask revealed only the faintest glimmer of anticipation.
Suddenly, heat rolled over them in a suffocating wave. Ahead, a sea of burning clouds churned, the air shimmering.
From within, a pair of eyes locked onto Darian's. Recognition flared. The clouds split, revealing Thorne Ashveil—the fiery-fisted cultivator who had once fled from Darian and Faelan. Now, a deep silver Spirit Core glowed behind him. His lips curled into a murderous smile as he drew a finger slowly across his throat.
The clouds closed.
Darian's face remained unreadable. If Thorne stayed out of his path, fine. If not—he would not flee a second time.
The sky grew ever more crowded with streams of light until, abruptly, Valtor's aura dimmed. Far below lay a vast stone platform, a thousand paces wide, carved from ancient white jade, weathered by time yet radiating solemn majesty.
Valtor released his grip, and the three descended.
The moment Darian's boots touched the stone, he felt them—dozens of unseen eyes turning toward him.
Watching. Weighing. Waiting.