The tournament grounds shook with anticipation as the finals began. The last remaining sects stepped onto the arena platforms — ancient names of the Central Continent, each carrying centuries of reputation, vast legacies, and battle-hardened prodigies.
The crowd roared:
"Moon Lotus Sect! Central Flame Sect! Mirage Pavilion! Thunder Valley!"
Every eye turned toward the phoenix-robed maidens of the Moon Lotus Sect. Seven hundred and fifty dao comprehension cultivators stood as one, their phoenix armors shimmering like a sea of light, swords humming with a collective will. At their lead were Yinxue, Ziyue, and Shuyue — calm, radiant, and unshaken.
The Opening Rounds
The first waves hit hard. Central Flame Sect's disciples unleashed torrents of fire, crimson storms scorching the stage. Mirage Pavilion twisted reality itself, their illusions swallowing the battlefield. Thunder Valley brought down storms that shook even the protective arrays.
Some Moon Lotus disciples faltered. Their opponents were sharper, battle-tested, and desperate to topple the new phoenixes who had stunned the continent.
One disciple staggered under a wall of flame. Another nearly collapsed beneath lightning bolts. For the first time, it seemed the phoenixes might waver.
But from the stands, Haotian's golden eyes remained steady. His voice carried through the bond of their training:
You have your dao. Trust it. Trust yourselves. Fly.
The disciples' swords ignited with renewed light. Phoenix cries echoed through the arena as their dao armors flared. Struggling cultivators rose again, their blades cutting through flame, lightning, and illusion. One by one, they turned defeat into victory.
The crowd erupted, voices thundering across the coliseum.
"They stood again—!"
"This sect… their will is unbreakable!"
The Sisters' Battles
Then came the decisive duels.
Yinxue faced the strongest disciple of Central Flame Sect. His dao of crimson inferno wrapped him in fire so intense it warped the space around him. But Yinxue's sevenfold dao bloomed — frost freezing flames, time locking them in place, her sword piercing directly through his core. He collapsed before her calm gaze, the inferno snuffed out like a candle.
Ziyue clashed with Thunder Valley's lightning prodigy. Bolts faster than thought rained down, but her Icewind Sword Dao surged beyond them. Her blades severed lightning itself, her piercing dao striking through the thunderous storm. With one final strike, her opponent's weapon split, his lightning dispersed like mist.
Shuyue stood against Mirage Pavilion's heir, the master of illusions. The world around her bent, twisting into dreams of defeat, shadows of despair. But Shuyue's sword glowed with the Dao of Love, radiant and clear. The illusions shattered, her virtues cutting through every falsehood. She struck once, and the Mirage heir fell to his knees, weeping as though the truth of his dao had been stripped bare.
The End of the Finals
One by one, the other sects fell. Some disciples of the Moon Lotus Sect bore wounds, their armors cracked, but none were defeated. They fought with unyielding will, their phoenix cries echoing across the continent.
When the dust settled, the coliseum was silent.
Then the announcer's voice rang out, trembling with awe.
"Victory… belongs to the Moon Lotus Sect!"
The roar that followed shook the heavens. Sovereigns stood in their seats. Elders of rival sects clenched their fists in despair. The people of the Central Continent screamed the name that had already burned itself into history:
"Moon Lotus! Moon Lotus! Moon Lotus!"
High above, the phoenixes' cries echoed once more, a chorus that would be remembered for generations.
And Haotian stood quietly at the edge of the platform, his golden eyes calm, his heart proud.
Yes. This is only the beginning.
The coliseum roared so loudly the very air trembled. Bells of jade and bronze rang through the Central Continent, declaring the end of the finals.
At the center dais, the officiating Sovereign rose, his aura sweeping across the stadium like a tidal wave. His voice carried into every ear:
"Today, history has been written. By unanimous judgment of the Alliance, the Moon Lotus Sect has achieved absolute victory in the Dao Comprehension bracket."
He extended a hand, and beams of golden light shot into the sky. Within them appeared banners bearing the phoenix crest, unfurling to cover the coliseum walls.
"From this day forward," the Sovereign continued, his tone reverberating with authority, "the Moon Lotus Sect shall be recognized as the Head Sect of the Northern Continent, unrivaled in its dominion."
The disciples stood together in their phoenix armors, blades raised in salute. Their cries echoed with the voices of their weapons — phoenix song reverberating across the skies.
Rewards followed:
Chests of spirit stones, piled high.
Ancient manuals and dao scrolls, gifts of the Alliance.
Heavenly treasures, sealed within crystal cases, each glowing with the light of divine essence.
The disciples bowed as the treasures were laid before them. Yet all eyes, Sovereigns and sect masters alike, lingered not on the prizes… but on Haotian, standing quietly at the front. His golden eyes reflected none of the pomp, but his calm bearing made it clear: these rewards were secondary. The true prize was the strength of his sect.
Whispers rippled among Sovereigns seated above.
"That boy…"
"He truly carries the blood of dragons."
"He cannot be recruited. We will have to treat."
The world had shifted — and everyone knew it.
Later, in the quiet of their assigned accommodations, the storm of cheers was left behind.
The disciples filled the vast chambers, phoenix armor carefully stowed, their hair damp from cleansing baths. The earlier roar of battle was replaced with soft laughter, relieved sighs, and voices still trembling from the weight of what they had achieved.
Some sat together comparing scars, others leaned against one another, exhausted yet smiling. A few clutched their phoenix swords, whispering to them like partners. The bond between disciple and weapon had only deepened after this trial.
At the center, Yinxue, Ziyue, and Shuyue gathered with Haotian. The three sisters sat cross-legged, still radiant with the glow of their victories.
Yinxue exhaled softly, a rare smile on her lips.
"Not one of us fell. We did it."
Ziyue's eyes, normally sharp as blades, softened with pride.
Our phoenixes carried the north into the heart of the continent. No one can deny us now."
Shuyue leaned closer to Haotian, her cheeks still flushed from the excitement.
"Senior Brother… did we make you proud?"
Haotian's gaze lingered on them all, sweeping across the tired but glowing faces of his disciples. He nodded once, firmly.
"You did. Every one of you. Today, the world knows what phoenixes can do."
The disciples bowed their heads, eyes bright with tears, laughter breaking through exhaustion. For some, this was the first time they truly believed — they weren't just a sect anymore. They were a legend in the making.
Later, when the chamber quieted, Yinxue broke the silence."Haotian… this is only the beginning, isn't it?"
Haotian's golden eyes reflected the lamplight, the Eyes of the Universe glowing faintly.
"Yes," he said softly. "This is the first step. Nine years from now, when the demons rise, the world will remember this day… as the day phoenixes first took flight."
The sisters exchanged glances, their hearts tightening with both pride and fear. Shuyue curled closer into his side, whispering so only he could hear.
"Then we'll fly with you… always."
The quiet chamber filled again with the warmth of unity. For now, there was no battle, no Sovereigns, no politics. Only the laughter of phoenixes, gathered in their roost, basking in the glow of their triumph.
Later, in the quiet of their assigned accommodations, the storm of cheers was left behind.
The disciples filled the vast chambers, phoenix armor carefully stowed, their hair damp from cleansing baths. The earlier roar of battle was replaced with soft laughter, relieved sighs, and voices still trembling from the weight of what they had achieved.
Some sat together comparing scars, others leaned against one another, exhausted yet smiling. A few clutched their phoenix swords, whispering to them like partners. The bond between disciple and weapon had only deepened after this trial.
At the center, Yinxue, Ziyue, and Shuyue gathered with Haotian. The three sisters sat cross-legged, still radiant with the glow of their victories.
Yinxue exhaled softly, a rare smile on her lips.
"Not one of us fell. We did it."
Ziyue's eyes, normally sharp as blades, softened with pride.
"Our phoenixes carried the north into the heart of the continent. No one can deny us now."
Shuyue leaned closer to Haotian, her cheeks still flushed from the excitement.
"Senior Brother… did we make you proud?"
Haotian's gaze lingered on them all, sweeping across the tired but glowing faces of his disciples. He nodded once, firmly.
"You did. Every one of you. Today, the world knows what phoenixes can do."
The disciples bowed their heads, eyes bright with tears, laughter breaking through exhaustion. For some, this was the first time they truly believed — they weren't just a sect anymore. They were a legend in the making.
Later, when the chamber quieted, Yinxue broke the silence."Haotian… this is only the beginning, isn't it?"
Haotian's golden eyes reflected the lamplight, the Eyes of the Universe glowing faintly.
"Yes," he said softly. "Three years have passed already to bring us here. Six remain. The demons will rise again, and the world will remember this day… as the day phoenixes first took flight."
The sisters exchanged glances, their hearts tightening with both pride and fear. Shuyue curled closer into his side, whispering so only he could hear.
"Then we'll fly with you… always."
The quiet chamber filled again with the warmth of unity. For now, there was no battle, no Sovereigns, no politics. Only the laughter of phoenixes, gathered in their roost, basking in the glow of their triumph.
The chambers of the Moon Lotus Sect eventually grew still. The laughter faded into soft breathing, the rustle of blankets, and the faint hum of phoenix swords resting at their masters' sides.
One by one, the disciples surrendered to exhaustion, until only three remained awake — Yinxue, Ziyue, and Shuyue. Their eyes glowed faintly in the lantern light, fixed on the man who stood quietly at the room's center.
Haotian's fingers traced runes in the air. A faint shimmer rippled outward, wrapping the chamber in layered protections: a soundless barrier to drown every whisper and a concealment formation to cloud the senses of any who might probe too close.
Only when the last sigil dimmed did he turn back to them. His golden eyes reflected their faces — Yinxue's calm strength, Ziyue's sharp composure, Shuyue's eager blush.
Shuyue broke the silence first, voice barely a whisper.
"Senior Brother… we can speak freely now, can't we?"
Haotian smiled faintly. "We can."
Yinxue rose first, her steps measured but unhesitating. She reached out, fingers brushing against his chest as her phoenix circlet caught the light. "Then I won't hold back." Her voice carried both command and tenderness.
Ziyue followed, her lips curving into the faintest of smirks as she stepped in from the other side. "Nor will I."
Shuyue hesitated only a moment before rushing forward, throwing her arms around his waist. Her voice quivered, but her resolve was bright. "Then don't leave me behind, either."
Haotian chuckled softly — then his arms wrapped around all three, pulling them close, his warmth encircling them.
The soundless barrier swallowed their laughter, their whispers, their sighs. Robes loosened, hair spilled across shoulders, and the phoenixes who had burned so fiercely in battle now melted against him with vulnerable softness.
Yinxue pressed her lips to his first — a kiss deep and certain, the declaration of her completed dao of love. Ziyue followed, stealing the moment with sharp boldness, her sword-tempered will cutting through hesitation. Shuyue, youngest and most daring, straddled his lap as though she feared the world itself might try to pull him away, her laughter and moans ringing brightest inside the barrier.
Haotian's golden eyes dimmed, not with weakness but with unspoken devotion. His hands, his voice, his presence moved between them, guiding, teasing, comforting. The man who bore the weight of six years left until the demon invasion, the one who carried the hopes of phoenixes and dragons alike — here, for one night, he was simply theirs.
When dawn finally touched the curtains, the disciples outside stirred in their sleep, never once hearing what had unfolded. But within the barrier, the three sisters lay draped against him, cheeks flushed, hair tangled, their breaths even and content.
Haotian looked at them in silence for a long while. Then, as always, he smiled faintly, pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads.
Six years remain, he thought. But with them by my side, even the storm will bow.
The grand plaza of the Central Continent Alliance gleamed with banners of gold and silver. Sect masters, elders, and sovereigns filled the galleries, their gazes sharp and expectant. The combat tournaments were already concluded, the Moon Lotus Sect's triumph etched into history. But now came the final moment — the awarding of the individual crowns for forging and alchemy.
The officiating elder's voice rang out, trembling with both awe and formality.
"First Place — Forging Competition: Zhenlong Haotian.
First Place — Alchemy Competition: Zhenlong Haotian."
The words reverberated like thunder across the coliseum.
Two jade plaques floated forward, their surfaces etched with glowing runes of certification. Alongside them came storage rings heavy with rewards: ores mined from sovereign tombs, herbs long thought extinct, and manuals of profound techniques.
"Never before," the elder continued, "has one cultivator claimed both crowns within a single tournament. In speed, precision, and result — his work stands beyond compare."
Gasps rippled through the stands:
"He forged masterpieces in ten minutes—"
"Alchemy with bare hands, without a cauldron—"
"Unheard of…"
"Who is this boy?"
Sovereigns leaned forward in their seats, their eyes glittering with sudden interest.
Haotian stepped forward in silence, his white-and-silk-blue dragon armor gleaming with a faint rainbow sheen. He cupped his hands, bowing lightly, his golden eyes calm and unshaken.
"I accept these honors on behalf of my sect," he said simply. His voice carried without arrogance, resonating with quiet authority.
From the Eastern Pavilion delegation, Yanfei could not breathe.
Her heart pounded as she stared at him — the man she had brushed past days earlier, dismissing him as a stranger. Now the banners bore his name. Zhenlong Haotian.
Without hesitation, she stepped forward, her crimson robes trailing like fire across marble. The crowd stirred as she crossed the floor, her sect's attendants whispering in alarm.
When she stopped before him, her voice was measured, but her eyes betrayed the rhythm of her racing heart.
"Congratulations. To claim both crowns… forging and alchemy. Even among sovereigns, such mastery is rare. Yet you—" she paused, lips curving faintly, "—you've made it look effortless."
Haotian glanced at her, expression courteous. His golden eyes glimmered faintly as he inclined his head.
"Miss Yanfei. It seems fate enjoys weaving our paths together."
She held his gaze longer than propriety allowed, as though searching for a secret hidden in his calm. "No," she murmured softly, "this is not fate. You are… different."
Haotian only chuckled, neither denying nor confirming.
Whispers surged among the sovereigns above:
"A dragon indeed…"
"The Zhenlong name, that household…"
"…He must be their descendant."
Some leaned back, grim-faced. Others chuckled, murmuring that perhaps negotiations would be the only path.
But Yanfei only felt her pulse quicken, her fingers tightening at her sleeves.
Zhenlong Haotian… she repeated silently. The dragon who wears fire and frost as easily as breath. Who are you really?
The Moon Lotus Sect remained in the Central Continent for several more days.
Though they had dazzled the continent with their victories, Haotian did not let the triumph go to their heads. He walked the city streets with his phoenix disciples, guiding them through markets, ornamental shops, and scenic terraces overlooking rivers and mountains.
For many, it was their first time outside the northern lands. They marveled at bustling trade avenues, strange foods, and towering halls of jade. When the disciples paused too long at jewelry stalls or trinket stands, Haotian only smiled and quietly purchased what caught their eyes — hair ornaments, phoenix-feather pendants, rings carved from spirit jade.
Even the three sisters — Yinxue, Ziyue, and Shuyue — allowed themselves rare moments of softness. Shuyue laughed with the innocence of someone seeing the world anew, Ziyue's composure softened as she admired a silvered sword ornament, and Yinxue, though reluctant at first, accepted a comb of white jade shaped like phoenix wings.
On the third day, they boarded the flying ship once more. As the vessel lifted into the sky, the city shrank beneath them, a memory etched into history.
When the sect gates of the Moon Lotus Sect came into view, the disciples felt their hearts settle. Home.
But as they descended, something immediately felt different.
The moment they entered the bathhouse, shock rippled through the entire sect.
Where once the frost heavenly treasure pulsed alone, a new flame treasure now burned beside it. The two stood together like eternal opposites, yin and yang interwoven. The bathhouse walls glowed faintly with inscriptions that had not been there before — glyphs of balance, harmony, and duality.
The pools that had once radiated only icy clarity now shimmered with a perfect mingling of hot and cold. Frost and flame spiraled in visible streams, intertwining without conflict, creating a chi-rich mist that filled the entire chamber.
One elder whispered, trembling:
"The yin and yang chi… it's already balanced."
Another murmured:
"This place… it no longer needs Senior Brother Haotian's presence to guide the cultivation. The treasures themselves sustain it."
Even Yinxue, usually steady, widened her eyes.
"Haotian… you—"
Haotian only chuckled lightly, hands folded behind his back as his golden eyes glowed faintly. "Good. Now you can advance without relying on me. From this day forward… the Moon Lotus Sect will not stagger cultivation any longer. Saints will rise."
The disciples looked at one another, hearts pounding. The long-awaited step — the transition to Saint Realm cultivation — was now before them.