"Jialan, who do you think will win?"
On the viewing platform, a True Disciple in a royal purple robe embroidered with nine five-clawed dragons turned to her with an easy smile. Each dragon was a different color—black, gold, red, green, azure—coiling in living motion. The robe radiated not ethereal grace but an emperor's majesty, heavy and commanding. And yet, on this man, it fit perfectly.
"What about you, Lingxiao?" Jialan replied with a faint smile, her tone airy but edged with curiosity.
So, the man in the dragon robe was Dong Lingxiao, the master of Lingxiao Peak—one of the Five Great True Disciples of Yuhua Sect, on equal standing with Jialan herself. His presence was like dawn breaking across the eastern sky—vital, powerful, suffused with the aura of "Purple Qi Rising from the East."
The sect revered these four: Dong Lingxiao of the East, Nan Wanluo of the South, Xi Jialan of the West, Bei Yaoguang of the North. Among all the disciples, only the ancient Grand Elders of the sect ranked higher. Even the Elders treated them with deference, for they were the true pillars of Yuhua Sect.
Yet, all four of them addressed one man as Senior Brother—Hua Tiandu.
He stood a level above them all: his Panwu Divine Power was unmatched, his mana deep as an abyss. Even within the entire cultivation world, Hua Tiandu was counted among the giants—rivaling even the demonic warlord Kuang Tianqing.
Lingxiao's tone was calm, almost casual. "Ye Nantian has received personal guidance from Wanluo. He's been granted powerful treasures—perhaps more than one. Fang Han has some skill, I'll admit, but he's arrogant, reckless. To boast he'll surpass Hua Tiandu within ten years—hah! None of us would dare say such a thing. The ignorant are always fearless. Today, he'll learn humility the hard way."
"Perhaps," Jialan said lightly, "but there's something unusual about that boy. I don't think Ye Nantian will have it easy."
"Oh?" Lingxiao chuckled, flicking his finger. "Is that because you once gifted Fang Han a set of Three-Crystal Ice Jade Swords? Surely you don't think that's enough to counter a treasure artifact? Wanluo has already bestowed his Gate of Samsara upon Ye Nantian."
"The Gate of Samsara?" Jialan's expression shifted. "So Wanluo truly gave him that treasure. Then it seems he's determined to see Nantian seize first place from Long Xuan."
"Long Xuan has held the top of the Mountain and River Ranking for years," Lingxiao mused, eyes gleaming. "She's already claimed the best rewards from the sect's treasury. But this year's prize is extraordinary—a Yin-Yang Longevity Pill and a Pure Yang Treasure, the Golden Flame Mirror. Even True Disciples are tempted."
He gave Jialan a sly look. "You favor Fang Han? Then let's wager. I'll bet on Ye Nantian—one treasure on the line: my Heavenwood Divine Needle."
As he spoke, he took out a three-inch green needle that pulsed with living light.
"The Heavenwood Needle?" Jialan's brows arched. "That's condensed from the Essence of Eastern Wood Qi—a treasure refined through nine cycles over millennia. You'd really risk that? Clearly, you have your eyes on something of mine."
"Indeed," Lingxiao said, grinning. "Your Milky Way Bracelet."
Jialan's right wrist shimmered with a band of starlight, a miniature galaxy of brilliance. It was no mere trinket—it was a top-grade treasure, beyond anything a spirit artifact could compare to.
"You want to wager? Fine." She slipped off the bracelet and placed it on the table beside his needle. Her eyes glinted like moonlit blades. "But tell me—what use does a man like you have for jewelry?"
Lingxiao laughed. "I plan to give it away, of course."
Jialan snorted. "If you want to impress someone, why not bring her the Sun and Moon Five-Star Bracelet from the Star Gate? That's a Pure Yang Treasure—almost a Dao Artifact. Though I doubt you have the power to claim it."
Lingxiao only smiled, and the two turned their eyes toward the arena below.
Nearly every gaze in the court was fixed on the first dueling platform. The fight between Fang Han and Ye Nantian had drawn everyone's attention. Nantian, ranked third on the Mountain and River List, was renowned for his power and treasures. Fang Han, meanwhile, was infamous for challenging Hua Tiandu himself.
"Fang Han! Why haven't you come up yet? Don't tell me you're scared!"
Ye Nantian's voice rang out as he lifted a small stone gate into the air. The gate was carved with divine beasts and ancient sigils, its surface radiating the vast, eternal aura of antiquity. With a twist of his hand, a gust of primordial wind enveloped him—and in a blink, he vanished, reappearing atop the stage.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"The Gate of Samsara!"
"They say Senior Brother Wanluo once used it to slay countless Heavenly Demons—even Demon Kings!"
"That treasure can shift space, capture weapons, even imprison foes… Ye Nantian's practically unbeatable this round."
"Even Senior Sister Long looks unsettled."
At the front, Long Xuan—the yellow-robed beauty who had long dominated the rankings—frowned slightly. Then, regaining composure, she folded her hands and sat in quiet meditation, the picture of poise. Her restraint earned approving nods from the watching elders and True Disciples alike.
Even she knew that Fang Han's chances were slim. Against such a treasure, even she would face a bitter battle.
Treasures were only as strong as the mind that wielded them—but Ye Nantian had both skill and power on his side.
"Looks like that servant Fang Han's about to be humiliated," sneered Fang Qingwei from her seat among a cluster of fawning admirers. Her aura blazed with new spiritual light—clearly, she too had been greatly rewarded of late.
"Another treasure?" Fang Han murmured as he stepped onto the stage. "So that's how deep his hand runs… even our spies didn't find this."
He clenched his fist, but said nothing. The artifact spirit, Yan, had fallen silent—hidden deep within the Yellow Springs Diagram, unreachable.
"You've got guts, I'll give you that," Ye Nantian said, smiling coldly. "But guts without wisdom are just the courage of a fool."
With a flick of his wrist, the Gate of Samsara expanded into a towering stone portal two men high, rising behind him like a mountain.
"Eight Desolation Divine Sword!"
He opened his mouth—and spat out a tiny, inch-long sword. It gleamed like crystal, exquisite and delicate—almost toy-like. Yet the moment it appeared, a surge of sharpness filled the air. The entire arena quivered beneath its killing intent; disciples covered their eyes as invisible blades sliced at their skin.
The Eight Desolation Divine Sword—Ye Nantian's personal weapon, a treasure-grade sword that had earned him his rank. Not a sect reward, but a relic of fortune he'd seized from an ancient ruin.
The blade trembled, ringing like a storm of metal, then transformed—flowing into a sphere of translucent steel that enclosed Ye Nantian completely.
A perfect defense—impenetrable, indestructible.
"Fang Han, to prove I don't bully the weak, I'll give you three moves," Ye Nantian laughed. His confidence filled the arena; victory, to him, was already assured.
Two treasures—one for offense, one for defense. How could he possibly lose?
Even the elders shook their heads. "This is hardly a fair fight."
"Looks like your bracelet's mine, Jialan," Lingxiao said, grinning—
But his laughter froze as a sudden, thunderous roar split the air.
The roar carried mana.
It came from Fang Han.
"What—what is that?" Lingxiao shot to his feet, eyes wide.
"Impossible!" Jialan gasped.
"Let me see that again!" several elders cried, standing as the arena erupted in shock.
Every gaze locked on the center stage—on the young man roaring like a storm.
Fang Han's robes whipped in an unseen wind as a vortex of raw power burst from his body. His crown chakra flared open—his Heaven's Gate blazing with light. Blue dragons and white tigers spiraled in his aura, their roars echoing through the sky.
He rose into the air, radiating divine might.
Without calling on any weapon, he had broken his seal—his true cultivation revealed at last. The pressure rolling off him was vast, ancient, boundless.
"Ye Nantian," Fang Han's voice rolled like thunder, "you dare boast with your trinkets? To think that relying on treasures makes you strong? Today, I'll show you what true power is. I've already stepped into the Divine Ability Realm—a realm you'll never reach, not in this lifetime!"
His laughter shook the heavens. The Yama Golden Body burned within him, his mana surging like an ocean unleashed. The Star-Gathering Elixir he'd refined had pushed him even higher—past what most could dream of. Even Jinshitai himself might not match him now.
"The Divine Ability Realm!" someone shouted. "He's really reached it!"
"Impossible… that's the realm of the Spirit Elders!"
"It's true! Look at that aura—he's a Divine Ability cultivator!"
In that instant, the entire Yuhua Sect fell silent—then exploded into a roar of disbelief.
Fang Han had ascended beyond all expectation.
A single roar—
and the heavens themselves trembled.