According to the Sun Moon Empire Tournament Organizing Committee's arrangements, participating sects and academies were strictly categorized into tiers.
For instance, the previous tournament's champion team was automatically placed in the top tier—granted the best rooms and highest-level treatment.
Naturally, the Sun Moon organizers didn't overlook newly prominent sects either. The more renowned a sect, the better its accommodations.
Take the Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect—the so-called "richest sect under heaven." Its fame needed no elaboration. And since the Body Sect hadn't entered under its true name, among all competing sects, the Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect received the absolute best treatment.
The fourth floor of Mingyue Hotel was where Chen Junting's group was stationed.
Sharing this floor were other elite forces: Xing Luo Royal Academy, Di Ao Academy, Tianlong Gate, and more.
As for the top floor? That honor was beyond their reach.
After settling into their assigned rooms, the group—having traveled day and night—wasn't in a rush to rest. After all, they'd arrived via Titan Gryphon, expending almost no energy, and with Elder Zhi Yong's protection, most had slept comfortably en route.
So after briefly unpacking, they gathered in the conference room specially reserved for the Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect team.
Creak—
The door opened. Ning Tian didn't even look up.
"Sister Feng, you're late."
Her tone carried clear displeasure as she fixed Wu Feng with a stern gaze.
Being late wasn't inherently grave—but vanishing for fifteen minutes without a word, leaving everyone waiting?
The meeting time had been clearly set beforehand.
This was utterly unprofessional!
"Wait—wait! I have a reason for being late!" Wu Feng, still clutching the doorknob, cried out urgently.
Ning Tian remained silent. Chen Junting simply extended a hand, palm up.
Go ahead—perform.
Bang!
She slammed the door shut behind her—as if that alone put her in character.
"You know what I just saw? Those black-clad people—the Holy Spirit Cult!"
Chen Junting's expression hardened instantly.
"Xiao Feng… did you follow them?"
"Well… not exactly 'follow'…" Caught off guard, Wu Feng stammered guiltily. To Chen Junting, that hesitation was confession enough.
Fury surged within him.
Xiao Feng, you reckless fool! You're merely a Soul Emperor—how dare you tail an evil soul master who's a Title Douluo?! I knew you were impulsive in battle, but in real life too?!
"Do you ever think before acting?"
With a flick of his finger, a whip of soul energy lashed across her forehead—smack!—leaving a vivid red mark.
Wu Feng didn't utter a single protest. She knew full well she was in the wrong.
Seeing her silence, Chen Junting reined in his anger.
"Fine. Explain—what happened?"
Wu Feng then recounted everything.
When rooms were assigned, hers happened to be closest to the stairwell. As she left her room, she ran straight into the evil soul masters.
Fuming at the injustice—how could the obscure, shadowy Holy Spirit Cult, barely known on the continent, get top-tier lodging while the Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect, the wealthiest sect in the world, was relegated to second-tier treatment?—her temper flared. On impulse, she trailed them.
"You…" Ning Tian shook her head helplessly, though she couldn't truly scold her. Wu Feng's recklessness was blameworthy, yes—but was her anger unjustified?
As heir to the richest sect in the land—one whose strength now arguably surpassed even the Body Sect—being slighted like this was a direct insult to their dignity. Ning Tian herself felt the sting.
"Enough. Let it go."
Thus, the matter was dismissed with a wave—serious in buildup, trivial in resolution.
The meeting then shifted focus to finalizing competitors and analyzing the yet-unrevealed tournament format.
---
Meanwhile, on the top floor of Mingyue Hotel…
Ah-choo!
In the conference room, team leader Zhang Xuan suddenly sneezed. The entire room fell deathly silent.
"How odd… Old man like me sneezing?" Zhang Xuan frowned, an inexplicable unease prickling his nerves.
Just then—
"Elder Bloodbear," a youth spoke up, "someone followed us earlier. We held back because Shrek Academy shares our floor. Should we find a chance to kill her now?"
The question shattered Zhang Xuan's unease.
"No need," he said coldly, a cruel smirk twisting his brutal face. "Even if she discovered something, what could she do? Yan Feng, remember—our goal is to hunt geniuses legitimately in the arena. If I'm not mistaken, that tracker was from Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect. Acting against her now would only alert the prey. Ruining the mission over such a trifle isn't worth it."
He shot a chilling glance at the cold-eyed Yan Feng.
"I hear Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect's team this year is quite strong. Don't disappoint me in the arena."
"Heh…" Yan Feng sneered. "I won't let Master down."
Zhang Xuan noted the youth's utter lack of respect—resentment flashing in his eyes. But Yan Feng was Patriarch Zhongli Wu's personal disciple; confronting him was impossible. He swallowed his fury.
"We'll see."
---
Night deepened. Thick mist veiled the moonlight, draping Ming Dou—a city usually vibrant with pre-tournament excitement—in serene quiet.
Room 503, Mingyue Hotel.
As a top-tier sect, the Holy Spirit Cult granted each member and leader a private room. Room 503 was precisely where Wu Feng had tracked Zhang Xuan.
Inside resided none other than Bloodbear Douluo himself.
"Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect… heh—heh. Nostalgic. Of all the flesh I've eaten, that Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Pagoda soul master's was the most delicious. I wonder… what does a Nine Treasures Glazed Tile Pagoda soul master taste like?"
Lost in his grotesque reverie, Zhang Xuan suddenly felt a sharp, inexplicable sense of danger—growing stronger by the second.
He whirled toward the window.
Outside, silhouetted against the night sky, a figure stood atop empty air. Before Zhang Xuan could react, terrifying soul energy flooded the room. Simultaneously, Sky Azure Vines erupted from the floor, coiling around him in an instant—binding him tight as a dumpling.
Panicked, he tried to struggle—but found his strength utterly sapped. It was as if he'd been thrown into an inescapable cage, robbed of even the chance to resist.
Without alerting other Holy Spirit Cult members, the vines gently yanked—and Zhang Xuan vanished from his room.
High above, two figures hovered in the void.
Dangling beneath them: a tightly wrapped bundle.
"This is him?" Yang Zihan's voice was glacial as she recapped a jade vial.
Upon receiving her daughter's message, Yang Zihan and Elder Zhi Yong had moved immediately. Using a paralyzing toxin and Zhi Yong's overwhelming power, they'd effortlessly captured the Level 95 Bloodbear Douluo.
"It's him—no doubt," Zhi Yong confirmed, lifting Zhang Xuan slightly. The captive's one exposed eye gleamed with unspeakable terror.
Then Zhi Yong added, voice darkening: "Just now, I heard this wretch say he wanted to taste Tian'er's flesh."
"He's dead!"
Yang Zihan's killing intent exploded!
To tell a mother someone wants to eat her daughter—
Her rage was apocalyptic.
A black flash—her spearpoint pressed against Zhang Xuan's throat. One nudge forward, and he'd be ash.
But at the last moment, she restrained herself.
"Let's go. Bring him to Xiao Chen."
Zhi Yong nodded—then turned sharply.
"Xuan Zi, since you're here, stop hiding."
Instantly, Xuan Zi materialized midair.
He eyed the bundled Zhang Xuan. "Grass Root, don't blame me for spying. My Shrek students are on this floor too. When you stormed in like a thundercloud, I thought someone was targeting my kids."
He paused, then—after probing with spiritual sense—froze in horror. Beneath the vibrant Sky Azure Vines pulsed waves of vicious, icy malice.
"A Title Douluo-level evil soul master?! In this hotel?!"
"And not just one," Zhi Yong said grimly, pointing toward several rooms. "The entire Holy Spirit Cult is entering this tournament openly."
Murderous aura erupted from Xuan Zi—his eyes flickering with unstable light.
The Gluttonous Douluo had already decided: with a mere squeeze, he'd reduce the next generation of the Holy Spirit Cult to dust.
But Zhi Yong stopped him.
"Don't ruin everything over a moment's impulse."
"Hmph! You lecture me?" Xuan Zi scowled, glaring at the bound Zhang Xuan. "We're different! Besides…"
Zhi Yong glanced back at Room 503.
"He'll be back."
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