Chapter 9
1578words
“If Jiang Yu chose to skip this, then the danger must be unimaginable,” one whispered.
Another nodded grimly. “Even he must feel unprepared. This isn’t just a competition—it’s a death trap.”
While the others busied themselves with frantic last-minute preparations, Yanwei had long since completed his own. A corpse army, complex trapping arrays, mineral bait to lure specific creatures, and a poisoned growth-type dagger—everything was ready.
The dagger was particularly special. A rare weapon capable of evolving with its owner, it had been with him since he achieved Rank 3. Unfortunately, it had regressed to Rank 2 when he sacrificed a portion of its strength to pay for his second merit. Despite this setback, the weapon’s quality still surpassed most others of the same rank.
But none of this mattered to the onlookers. To them, Yanwei’s calm demeanor was nothing more than a final farewell, a man quietly reminiscing on his life before his inevitable death.
A few days later, two sects had already arrived, their groups waiting for the Linglong family to complete the gathering. Each sect was led by a Rank 3 elder, their presence serving as both protection and authority.
“Ah, Fellow Daoist Xin, it’s been too long!” greeted a Rank 3 elder from the Divine Sword Sect. His words carried a faint air of arrogance, but his tone showed a measure of respect for Elder Xin’s reputation.
Elder Xin smiled and clasped his hands in greeting. “It has indeed been a while—at least a hundred years, right? Hahaha! You’re as sharp as ever.”
The two exchanged pleasantries, their words hinting at an old camaraderie.
While they spoke, a wild-looking elder strode over, his ferocious aura turning heads. His sharp, predatory gaze swept across the group before he smirked. “What? No one here wants to greet me?”
Elder Xin chuckled. “My apologies, Fellow Daoist. We got caught up in our nostalgia.”
Elder Zhang, the Divine Sword Sect elder, raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess—you’re here to boast about surviving a Rank 4 encounter again? Or are you looking for another fight?”
The ferocious elder laughed. “Come now, Fellow Daoist Zhang. It’s been so long, yet you treat me so differently compared to Xin. What did I do to deserve this bias?” His exaggerated tone, half-teasing, half-serious, drew faint smiles from those nearby.
Before Elder Zhang could respond, a luxurious boat appeared on the horizon, stealing everyone’s attention. The opulence of its design left no doubt as to who it belonged to.
As the boat docked, a beautiful, slender woman disembarked. Her presence was captivating, radiating elegance and power in equal measure.
“Greetings, Fellow Daoists,” she said with a faint, serene smile. “It seems this is our first meeting.”
The male disciples froze, their breathing quickening as though they were entranced. Some stood motionless, while others looked away in embarrassment, their composure shattered. The female disciples, meanwhile, glared at her with a mixture of envy and resentment but dared not voice their feelings. This was no ordinary woman—she was a Rank 3 elder.
“Fellow Daoist,” Elder Zhang said calmly, his sharp gaze meeting hers, “don’t you think it’s inappropriate to use charm techniques on the younger generation?”
Elder Xin nodded in agreement.
The woman chuckled softly and withdrew her technique, her serene demeanor unbroken. The affected disciples snapped out of their daze, many looking mortified—especially those who were already in relationships.
Even without her charm technique, the woman’s natural beauty drew lingering stares. Her presence was undeniable, commanding attention even among the elders.
Yanwei, however, barely glanced at her before shifting his gaze to Linglong. Among the gathered disciples, she stood out—not for her beauty, but for the unusual mix of worry and excitement in her eyes.
That’s not normal, Yanwei thought, narrowing his eyes. For a genius like her, this is just a competition for sect honor. But she’s too anxious, almost… eager. There’s more to this secret realm than they’re letting on.
Nearby, a sneering disciple caught Yanwei staring and leaned closer with a mocking laugh. “What? Don’t tell me you’re thinking of chasing Linglong. What a joke! You probably don’t even know her real name.”
The remark drew laughter from the other disciples, their voices growing louder. Even Linglong herself glanced at Yanwei, her expression full of disdain.
Yanwei simply lowered his head, feigning embarrassment. He let their mockery pass without a word, his silence only fueling their derision. Among the elders, Linglong’s family elder sneered but said nothing.
“Enough talk!” The wild elder from before barked, breaking the tension. “Look at my disciples—they’re brimming with fighting spirit! Let’s open the realm already.”
“Wait,” Linglong’s family elder interrupted with a faint smirk. “How about a wager first?”
The other three elders exchanged knowing glances and nodded, but they didn’t bother explaining the terms aloud. Instead, they moved swiftly to open the secret realm.
“Enter now!” came the collective command from the elders.
The disciples surged forward, filing into the portal one by one. Many looked disappointed, curious about the terms of the elders’ wager but unwilling to risk delaying their entry.
Yanwei took his first step into the secret realm, his lips curling into a faint smile. "I’m finally here," he murmured, his voice barely audible amidst the eerie silence.
The air was heavy and stifling, laced with the faint metallic tang of blood—a prelude to the chaos this place would soon unleash. Towering trees with warped trunks loomed over him, their gnarled branches entwined like the claws of a beast. The ground beneath his feet was uneven, littered with jagged rocks and patches of black moss that seemed to pulse faintly, as though alive.
He scanned the area, his senses on high alert. Fortune had smiled on him—he had been teleported to a safe zone, far from immediate threats. But he knew the secret realm’s cruelty. Not everyone would be as lucky. Somewhere out there, some hapless fool had already fallen into a beast’s den or triggered a killing array. The screams of the unfortunate were as much a part of this realm as the treasures it guarded.
A wave of dizziness hit him, the lingering effect of spatial transfer. Yanwei steadied himself, closing his eyes for a brief moment. His soul, tempered by three rebirths, had long surpassed the limits of ordinary cultivators. Where others might stagger and struggle for minutes, he regained clarity in mere seconds.
“This face is going to be troublesome,” he muttered, his voice cutting through the stillness. With a thought, his features began to shift, the transformation seamless. His sharp, calculating visage melted away, replaced by the unassuming face of an honest-looking man. He ran a hand over his altered features, satisfied.
As he adjusted his appearance, his spiritual sense flared. A presence entered its range—a woman, dazed and unsteady, her steps faltering as she emerged from the teleportation.
Yanwei’s reaction was immediate. Without hesitation, he flicked his wrist. His rank 2 dagger flew through the air, a streak of light that pierced the woman’s forehead before she even registered the attack.
Her body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
Yanwei approached her, his expression unreadable. He crouched beside the corpse, studying her with detached indifference. Her face, though strikingly beautiful, was now slack, her eyes wide open in an eternal, empty gaze.
“Unlucky,” he murmured, his tone devoid of pity. The word wasn’t meant for her; it was an acknowledgment of the unseen hand of fate. Luck was an intangible force, yet its influence was undeniable. This woman, for all her cultivation and preparation, had been dealt a losing hand.
He rummaged through her storage bag, methodical in his search. The bag was filled with resources—spiritual herbs, cultivation manuals, and trinkets of moderate value. But as he sifted through the contents, his hand paused. A collection of items tumbled out, their shapes unmistakable.
Yanwei’s face remained impassive, but he let out a quiet sigh. With a flick of his hand, he discarded the items onto the ground, where they lay like discarded relics of a shameful past. “Not everyone’s as rich as I expected,” he muttered. “Maybe the geniuses will have something worthwhile.”
Rising to his feet, he cast one last glance at the corpse. A sinister smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “No matter. They’ll all fall into my hands eventually.”
The oppressive silence of the secret realm returned, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves in the unnatural breeze. Yanwei adjusted his robe, his figure blending into the shadows as he began his hunt.
But just as he took his first step forward, his spiritual sense flared again—this time, sharper and more distinct. A faint presence brushed against the edge of his perception.
Unlike the woman before, this one wasn’t disoriented. It was deliberate, moving with precision. Whoever—or whatever—it was, it was already closing in.
Yanwei’s smile vanished, his dagger appearing in his hand once more.
“So soon?” he whispered to himself, eyes narrowing as he turned toward the source.
The game had begun, but perhaps he wasn’t the only hunter.
Drop a review, thanks!
