Chapter 12 Killing Each Other
Lu Li remained immersed in the shock of his mind, not even realizing how he had followed the Yellow Bone team into the second trial ground.
It was a platform spread across the mountainside, surrounded by barriers where the Heaven and Earth Spiritual Qi was forcibly suppressed, and even the sound of the wind seemed to be cut off.
Inside the barrier, there was no cover—no trees, no rocks—only a circle on the periphery where various Mortal weapons stood:
Long swords, axes, spears, steel whips, iron staffs, all gleaming with cold light, stark like tombstones.
The surrounding Yellow Bone boys and girls looked at each other, none speaking.
They were the lowest tier of existence in this trial, and now, thrown into such a cruel place, their hearts were filled with confusion and fear.
Only one person was different from the rest.
In the very center of the crowd, a ten-year-old boy dressed in a dark gold Dao robe stood with his hands behind his back, his eyes so cold it seemed he had never smiled.
It was the Heavenly Bone youth—Stone Wasteland.
He could have directly entered the Illusion Immortal Sect, even becoming a direct Disciple of the Four Peaks, yet he insisted on entering the trial ground to undergo the life-and-death selection alongside the Yellow Bone.
Some Yellow Bone Disciples nearby wanted to approach him, even if just to exchange a few greetings and build some connections, but they were forced back by his gaze the moment they tried to get closer.
That look was as if he were looking at a group of ants.
Some older, sturdier youths couldn't help but snort coldly: What if he is a Heavenly Bone? He's still just a child.
We'll see the truth on the field later!
Lu Li naturally kept his distance from that person.
This person felt dangerously unlike a child.
He recalled the jade talisman that Immortal Master Huang Xian had specially given him, knowing without a doubt that it was some powerful protective treasure.
—The trial could be ruthless, but if he were truly harmed, it likely wouldn't be the Heavenly Bone who died, but the person who made the move.
At this moment, in the sky above the field, a sword light streaked down from the horizon, and Qi Guanzhi stood on his sword, his voice like cold iron hitting the ground:
"Yellow Bone Disciples, a total of four hundred ninety-six people."
"My Illusion Immortal Sect will only accept two hundred."
As soon as his voice fell, there was a ripple of commotion in the field.
Someone asked loudly, "What are the rules for the second round of trials?"
Qi Guanzhi was expressionless, uttering four words:
"—No rules."
He stood high in the sky with his hands behind his back, his sleeves fluttering, and his cold voice descended:
"You have one day. The final survivors in the field must not exceed two hundred."
"Any means are allowed. The victors will enter the sect; the defeated will be eliminated."
"If the number still exceeds the limit by sunset—all will be expelled."
These words hit like a heavy hammer.
Some children immediately turned pale, their legs giving way, falling to the ground; others trembled with fear, not even daring to reach for a weapon.
A skinny youth gritted his teeth and spoke, "What if… I don't want to fight? Can I withdraw?"
Qi Guanzhi remained expressionless, simply waving his hand.
The next moment, several yellow-robed Disciples appeared from the side of the field and led the youth away.
"If you give up now, you can still walk down the mountain alive."
"But once the trial begins… your life and death are your own responsibility."
After these words, people began to withdraw one after another, crying, trembling, or gritting their teeth as they were led out of the field.
In just the time it takes for one stick of incense to burn, dozens had left.
Only about four hundred thirty remained in the field.
The eyes of these people had changed, their aura had changed—carrying ruthlessness, a gamble, and a desperate desire for survival.
Lu Li knew that if he didn't arm himself quickly, he would become the first target to be hunted.
He turned and scanned the weapon rack.
The spear was too heavy, the iron staff too rigid, the axe too slow, the saber too short…
His gaze paused, landing on a long sword.
It was ancient and mottled, with its center of gravity tilted forward, still relatively light.
He gripped the hilt, his hands barely able to lift it, his tiger's mouth trembling slightly, and sweat already beading in his palm.
But he did not retreat.
His slender figure stood in the corner, holding the sword with one hand, his gaze unwavering.
He understood that if he died today, his corpse would merely be kicked into a mountain ditch, and no one would remember his name, Lu Li.
Before the trial began, the killing intent had already surfaced.
Qi Guanzhi's words had already spread throughout the entire trial platform, and as the last of the quitters were led out, the field finally became truly quiet.
It was the calm before a storm.
In the crowd, the older, stronger youths began to move—
One by one, they walked to the weapon rack, choosing weapons that suited them.
Some grabbed a one-handed war hammer, their sturdy bodies shaking as they swung it with powerful, wind-like force;
Others held axes, short spears, or iron whips, their faces no longer childish, but instead showing the murderous intent of an adult.
The most eye-catching was still the Heavenly Bone youth, Stone Wasteland, standing in the center of the field.
He reached out and took down a crimson-silver long spear, weighing it casually, the spear shaft moving like a swimming Dragon.
He said nothing, only slowly scanned his surroundings.
—With that gaze, no one in the field dared to approach within five steps of him.
Some youths, confident in their physique, tried to get a few steps closer, only to feel a chill in their hearts from his glance, and quickly retreated.
"…Something's wrong, this child doesn't seem ten years old."
"He's a monster," someone muttered through gritted teeth.
In the corner of the trial ground, the faces of the younger, slenderer girls turned even paler.
Some couldn't help but cry out, others huddled in place, trembling.
But there were also smart ones who began to search for those who "could survive."
Females around ten years old often developed even better than boys, with stronger physiques.
Some early-developing, tall girls quickly gathered, forming a small "female camp," encouraging and allying with each other.
More, however, squeezed towards the physically outstanding boys, attempting to seek protection.
Among them, some even whispered sweetly, pulled at sleeves, and showed fawning eyes, as if gambling on a sliver of hope for survival.
The scene… was very much like survival in a chaotic world.
And those strong, robust boys gathered in twos and threes, their eyes already holding probing and murderous intent.
Everyone knew that the second round wasn't about winning as a team, but about being the last one alive.
Current allies might become prey under their blades by sunset.
Just then—
Lu Li felt someone gently tug at his tattered clothes.
He turned to see a little girl, about ten years old, with a dirty face, timid eyes, and trembling hands clutching her clothes.
Her voice was as faint as a mosquito's: "Bro… Brother, I… I don't want to die."
She was as thin as a stick, dressed in thin cotton clothes.
Lu Li had noticed her earlier.
She had tried to approach several groups—both boys and girls—but had been driven away.
Too weak; following her would only be a burden.
Lu Li's gaze lowered, staring at her for a moment.
Then, he sighed softly, his voice low:
"Go away."
The little girl froze, the glimmer of hope in her eyes slowly extinguishing.
Lu Li watched her turn away in disappointment, not without feeling.
But he knew—
"I can barely protect myself, so how can I bring someone who is almost certainly not going to survive?"
"This isn't cold-blooded; it's reality."
The girl stood frozen, the light in her eyes dimming little by little, like a newly lit candle flame blown out by the wind.
She took half a step back but didn't leave, only biting her lip and quietly saying:
"…I can't give up."
Lu Li didn't turn his head, speaking coldly:
"With your body, your strength, your courage—there is almost no chance of survival."
"You have no hope of advancing. If you withdraw now, you can still save your life."
His tone remained calm, as if he wasn't persuading, but stating an inevitable fact.
The timid girl clutched the tattered cloth in her hand, but a hint of stubbornness appeared in her eyes.
"Grandpa… sold everything we had so I could participate in the trial."
"He said this was our family's… only chance."
She looked up, her voice trembling:
"If I give up, I will truly… have nothing left."
Lu Li's brow subtly furrowed, and a figure quietly emerged in his mind—
During the first trial, the old man who desperately clung to his grandson, kneeling and refusing to get up, his head bleeding from repeated kowtows, was finally cut down by a yellow-robed Disciple's sword.
He finally understood that the man's willingness to die rather than retreat was because the cost of the trial qualification was already too heavy to bear.
He also finally understood that the path of the Dao, even just an entry ticket to a trial, was a desperate gamble for those Mortal Loose Cultivators, costing them their entire family fortune and emptying their hopes.
"For this illusory immortal path…" Lu Li sighed inwardly.
This path—was more precious than life itself.
He ultimately did not tell her to leave again.
He only said:
"You can follow me."
"But remember—I will not save you."
His tone was incredibly calm, yet it was like a life-and-death pact.
The girl first froze, then an expression of unbelievable joy appeared on her face. She nodded repeatedly, quickly picked out the lightest short sword from the weapon rack, and followed closely behind him.
Her slender body almost pressed against Lu Li's back, yet she dared not get too close, maintaining a cautious three-step distance.
Whether it was an illusion or not, Lu Li suddenly heard a faint, dismissive chuckle in his mind.
—It was Fairy Qiuyue's voice.
The laughter was as soft as a wisp of wind, swirling at the edge of his Sea of Consciousness, yet it was as cold as a serpent's tongue tracing his spine.
There were no words, only laughter.
As if mocking:
"A little Yellow Bone who can't even protect himself, yet he wants to lead someone out of this slaughterhouse?"
The voice suddenly vanished, as if it had never appeared.
Lu Li's expression remained unchanged; his brows merely furrowed slightly as he slowly raised the sword in his hand to his chest.