The night air blowing over the high bridges of the central terrace was crisp, clear, and bitter. Long, glowing spirit-lanterns made of carved white jade hung from the eaves of the towering mountain architecture, casting a brilliant, warm amber light across the wide, stone-paved walkways leading toward the Central Martial Hall.
The Central Martial Hall was an enormous, circular fortress constructed entirely from ancient dragon-scale granite. It stood at the absolute heart of the Sun-Moon Academy, serving as the official nexus for disciple ranking registrations, arena challenge permits, and the oversight of all martial tournaments within the inner sect.
Despite the late hour, the wide, vaulted grand entrance of the hall was buzzing with intense activity. With the Grand Inner Sect Assembly set to officially commence in less than three days, hundreds of inner disciples from all seven main peaks were streaming in and out, frantically verifying their cultivation credentials, updating their ranking badges, and checking the newly posted tournament rosters.
As Railin stepped onto the stone plaza fronting the massive ironwood doors of the martial hall, his hands tucked comfortably into his wide navy sleeves, a quiet hush instantly rippled through the gathered crowd.
The unbelievable news of his triumphant, uninjured return from the Ghost-Fog Valley—along with his terrifying breakthrough to the Second Level of Foundation Establishment in a mere four days—had already sent shockwaves through every peak in the academy.
"Look... that's him!" a Sword Peak disciple whispered frantically, ducking behind his companion's shoulder. "That's Railin! The one who crippled Feng Wushuang and completely wiped out Elder Xiang's borderland assignment!"
"Shh! Keep your voice down!" his companion warned in a hushed, terrified tone. "Did you not hear what happened at the Outer Affairs Council plaza earlier today? He released his spiritual pressure right in front of Elder Xiang! The rumors say he devoured two Stage Three shadow assassins and two Stage Two enforcement disciples inside the fog without leaving a single corpse behind!"
"He's only at the Second Level of Foundation Establishment, yet his spiritual weight feels like an unyielding dark mountain..." an Array Peak disciple murmured, backing away three steps to give Railin a wide, undisturbed path. "He's heading directly toward the high-ranking registration desks!"
Railin walked with measured, effortless precision, completely indifferent to the dozens of staring eyes, hushed chatter, and instinctual fear radiating from the crowd. His pitch-black pupils remained neutral as he crossed the broad marble threshold, stepping straight into the vast, cavernous main hall.
Inside the Central Martial Hall, high stone arches spanned dozens of heavy ironwood registration desks. Senior administrative stewards and martial registrars sat behind long counters, verifying disciple tokens, logging spirit-essence signatures, and stamping official assembly entry permits with heavy brass seals.
At the far end of the central counter sat a middle-aged, stern-looking elder dressed in the dark grey robes of an Assembly Registrar—Elder Zhao.
Unlike the corrupt, politically aligned Elder Xiang from the Outer Affairs Council, Elder Zhao was an independent, iron-faced administrator directly subordinate to the Grand Enforcement Hall. He was notorious for adhering strictly to the academy's ancient bylaws, completely refusing to bow to factional pressure or bribery from the Shadow Moon Peak.
However, standing directly beside Elder Zhao's grand administrative desk was a tall, handsome young man dressed in opulent, silver-embroidered crimson robes.
He possessed sharp, sword-like eyebrows, cold, arrogant eyes, and a tall, rigid stature. A glowing silver crescent-moon badge—the mark of a Direct Core Disciple of the Shadow Moon Peak—was proudly pinned to his chest. Surrounding his body was a heavy, suffocating wave of volatile, sharp spiritual pressure that visibly distorted the air around him.
Stage Four Foundation Establishment.
This was Senior Disciple Lu Chen, the third-ranked direct disciple under Grand Elder Shu-Lin's personal lineage, and one of the absolute strongest contenders in the upcoming Grand Inner Sect Assembly.
"Elder Zhao," Lu Chen spoke, his deep voice carrying a cold, metallic ring that reverberated off the granite walls. "I am merely requesting that you strictly audit the mission completion logs of all newly ascended Foundation disciples before issuing their assembly tokens. It is common knowledge that certain greenhorns use underhanded methods or fake external assistance to complete borderland tasks."
Elder Zhao did not even look up from his ledger, his ink brush moving with steady, precise strokes. "Disciple Lu Chen, the Outer Affairs Council has already formally signed and stamped Disciple Railin's mission report. The six stolen chests of spirit-granite have been safely returned to the central vault. Under section eight of the academy bylaws, I have no legal grounds to deny his registration."
Lu Chen's cold eyes flashed with a sharp, malicious light. "Signed by Elder Xiang under physical duress and public intimidation, Elder Zhao. A greenhorn who magically jumps from Stage One to Stage Two in four days inside an isolated valley clearly harbors dark, forbidden secrets. The Shadow Moon Peak strongly suggests an internal investigation before allowing him onto the assembly stage."
"If the Shadow Moon Peak has objections, submit a formal petition to the Grand Enforcement Council," Elder Zhao replied flatly, dipping his brush into dark black ink. "Until then, do not clutter my registration desk."
"Is that so?" a smooth, cold, and utterly unbothered voice suddenly sounded from five paces behind Lu Chen.
Lu Chen's body stiffened slightly. He slowly turned his head, his sharp, arrogant gaze locking directly onto Railin, who had quietly stepped up to the registration desk.
The contrast between the two was absolute. Lu Chen radiated the bright, overwhelming, and volatile pressure of a Stage Four Foundation veteran who had dominated the inner sect for years. Railin, on the other hand, stood like a quiet, bottomless abyss—his dark navy robes still, his pitch-black eyes reflecting Lu Chen's cold stare without a single ripple of shock or hesitation.
"Disciple Railin," Elder Zhao spoke, finally raising his eyes from the ledger. His sharp gaze swept over Railin's calm face, a faint glint of genuine surprise passing through his stern eyes as he felt the remarkably dense, rock-solid foundation of Railin's newly acquired Stage Two cultivation. "You have come to finalize your registration for the Grand Inner Sect Assembly?"
"I have, Elder," Railin replied flatly.
He reached into his inner pocket, pulled out the crystalline, ice-blue Ice-Core Verification Token given to him by Rusunam Rusu on behalf of Peak Master Bing Lian, and placed it smoothly onto the ironwood counter.
The moment the ice-blue crystal touched the wood, a brilliant, frigid light erupted from the lotus emblem engraved on its surface, filling the surrounding air with a crisp, bone-chilling mist that instantly dispelled the oppressive heat radiating from Lu Chen's Stage Four aura.
Elder Zhao's eyes widened slightly. "Peak Master Bing Lian's personal verification token..."
Lu Chen's face darkened instantly into a mask of suppressed rage and sharp annoyance. With Peak Master Bing Lian's direct, high-tier backing explicitly stamped onto the token, any attempt to use administrative technicalities, delays, or false audits to bar Railin from entering the assembly was rendered completely useless.
"It seems Senior Sister Rusu was entirely correct," Railin spoke smoothly, his dark eyes shifting calmly toward Lu Chen's scowling face. "The dogs of the Shadow Moon Peak truly love barking behind administrative counters when they fail in the wild."
GASPS!
A collective gasp of sheer horror echoed through the entire Central Martial Hall! Dozens of inner disciples backed away frantically, their faces turning pale as paper. Calling a Stage Four Direct Core Disciple a "dog" right to his face inside the Central Martial Hall was an act of pure, suicidal madness!
Lu Chen's expression froze, his sharp eyes narrowing into two razor-like slits as a terrifying, suffocating wave of crimson shadow qi erupted violently from his body!
BOOM!
The heavy ironwood desk trembled under the sudden, explosive surge of Stage Four spiritual force! The ambient temperature inside the hall plummeted as Lu Chen's killer intent locked firmly onto Railin's throat!
"Arrogant, suicidal brat...!" Lu Chen spat out in a low, murderous hiss, his right hand slowly drifting toward the hilt of his heavy silver broadsword. "You think surviving a few low-tier shadow assassins in the fog makes you invincible?! You are merely a Stage Two ant who got lucky! I could snap your neck right here and now!"
Railin did not back down an inch. He did not draw a weapon, nor did he raise his defensive qi shield. Instead, he met Lu Chen's murderous, suffocating gaze with an absolute, abyss-like silence. Deep within his upper dantian, his three Soul-Piercing Needles vibrated softly, ready to shoot straight into Lu Chen's mind at the slightest physical movement.
"SILENCE! BOTH OF YOU!" Elder Zhao roared out, slamming his heavy brass seal onto the ironwood desk with a deafening bang!
BANG—!
A vast, overwhelming wave of Stage Six Foundation pressure erupted from Elder Zhao, instantly crushing the volatile qi surging between Lu Chen and Railin!
"This is the Central Martial Hall under the direct supervision of the Enforcement Council!" Elder Zhao declared sternly, his sharp eyes glaring at Lu Chen. "Any unauthorized physical combat inside this hall will result in immediate stripping of core disciple status and lifetime banishment to the black-stone mines! Disciple Lu Chen, step back!"
Lu Chen clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, his breathing heavy as he forcibly suppressed his surging crimson qi. He slowly retracted his aura, taking a half-step back, though his cold, venomous eyes remained fixed on Railin's face.
Elder Zhao picked up the Ice-Core Verification Token, verified its internal spiritual signature, and picked up a glowing golden jade slip. With a swift flick of his ink brush, he engraved Railin's name and spirit frequency directly into the main tournament bracket.
CLICK.
A crisp, glowing gold badge stamped with the number #108 materialized on the desk.
"Disciple Railin," Elder Zhao stated calmly, handing the golden badge over. "Your registration for the Grand Inner Sect Assembly is officially finalized. You are assigned to the primary Bracket D of the Foundation Establishment division. The opening ceremonies begin in precisely three days at dawn on the Central Sun-Moon Arena."
"Thank you, Elder," Railin said smoothly, casually picking up the golden badge and sliding it into his spatial pouch.
As Railin turned cleanly on his heel to walk toward the exit, Lu Chen stepped directly into his path, leaning in close so that his low, murderous whisper vibrated only between the two of them.
"Enjoy your remaining three days of breath, Railin," Lu Chen hissed, his eyes gleaming with cold, sadistic glee. "The moment the arena bracket opens, I will personally file a direct, binding faction challenge against you. Under the witness of all seven peak masters and the grand elders, I will break every bone in your limbs, shatter your dantian, and drag your useless body across the stage."
Railin stopped his footfalls. He slowly turned his head, looking at Lu Chen with a faint, dark arc curving his pale lips—a smile so cold, sinister, and profoundly predatory that Lu Chen's heart inexplicably skipped a beat.
"Make sure you sign the life-and-death waiver before you step onto the stage, Lu Chen," Railin whispered softly, his pitch-black eyes shimmering with an inescapable, devouring hunger. "I would hate for the elders to interrupt my meal."
Without waiting for Lu Chen's enraged reply, Railin walked past him, his dark navy robes sweeping gracefully through the ambient mist as he exited the Central Martial Hall, disappearing into the quiet, starlit night.
The cold night wind whipped around the sweeping eaves of the Central Martial Hall, carrying the lingering scent of ironwood, incense, and subtle bloodlust. As Railin walked down the high granite steps toward the lower terrace, the surrounding disciples quickly scattered, looking back at his dark navy silhouette with a mixture of absolute dread and wild excitement.
The news of Railin's brief, deadly confrontation with Senior Disciple Lu Chen at the registration desk spread like a wildfire across the central mountain paths within minutes. Calling a Stage Four Direct Core Disciple a "dog" to his face, threatening to consume him on the assembly stage, and casually walking away under the watchful eyes of Elder Zhao—such audacity was completely unheard of in the recent history of the inner sect.
Railin, however, did not spare a single thought for the commotion he left behind.
His pace remained completely steady and rhythmic as he made his way toward the Assembly Preparation Ground, a massive, open-air stone terrace lined with specialized cultivation chambers reserved exclusively for registered assembly contenders.
Knowing that Shu-Lin and the Shadow Moon Peak would likely attempt subtle harassments, poisonings, or spatial tracking around his personal abode before dawn, Railin had no intention of returning to Spirit Abode 409 tonight. The preparation chambers in the Central Martial Hall were guarded by the iron-clad spirit arrays of the Grand Enforcement Hall, making them the safest place to consolidate his power before the tournament began.
Using his newly issued golden badge #108, Railin opened the heavy bronze door of Chamber 72, stepping into the compact, stone-carved room.
THUD.
The heavy bronze door slid shut, and the protective runes carved along the granite walls flared with a soft, azure light, completely isolating the room from all external sound, physical entrance, and spiritual scanning.
Railin walked over to the central white-jade meditation mat. Instead of immediately closing his eyes to cultivate, he sat down smoothly and reached into his spatial storage pouch.
With a simple flick of his wrist, he produced three distinct items and arranged them on the cool floor in front of him:
First was the Ice-Core Verification Token given by Peak Master Bing Lian, its icy mist gently swirling in the dim light.
Second was a small, ancient, pitch-black jade scroll he had looted from the spatial ring of the Stage Three shadow assassin leader, Ghost-1, inside the Ghost-Fog Valley.
Third was a glowing, blood-red crystal vial containing three drops of concentrated, viscous liquid—Essence of the Nether Shadow, a rare, high-tier poison used by top-tier dark-market assassins to temporarily paralyze a cultivator's meridians.
Railin picked up the pitch-black jade scroll first. Pressing it against his forehead, he injected a thin thread of his void qi into the ancient material, breaking its hidden restriction array.
SWISH!
A wave of dense, dark information flooded straight into his upper dantian:
[Secret Art: Shadow-Veil Step]
A low-grade Earth-tier movement technique practiced by dark-market stalkers. Allows the user to merge their physical body into surrounding shadows, moving instantly across short distances while masking all heartbeat, breathing, and spiritual aura.
A faint, cold light glinted in Railin's eyes.
Normally, an inner disciple attempting to comprehend a low-grade Earth-tier movement art would require weeks of intense, quiet meditation, carefully aligning their meridians to mirror the flow of shadow energy.
However, Railin did not practice ordinary cultivation arts.
"Shadow energy is merely a diluted, lesser offshoot of the primordial void," Railin whispered softly, his voice echoing in the small chamber.
He activated his lower dantian!
The Ashen Devouring Technique!
A faint, pitch-black vortex materialized behind his back. The ancient jade scroll trembled violently in his hand as its embedded shadow intent and secret meridian pathways were forcefully extracted, broken down into pure conceptual essence, and swallowed whole by Railin's void core!
BZZZZ—!
Within mere breaths, the complex movement patterns of the Shadow-Veil Step were completely comprehended, refined, and permanently engraved into Railin's muscle memory and soul structure!
He opened his eyes, a subtle ripple of pitch-black darkness flickering across his pupils. Without raising his hand, his slender body suddenly became translucent, melting effortlessly into the shadow cast by the meditation mat, appearing three feet to the left without generating a single whisper of wind or a single vibration in the air!
"Completely mastered," Railin murmured, stepping out from the shadow back onto the mat. "When combined with my Stage Two void core, the speed and stealth of this technique will be twice as fast as Ghost-1's original execution."
He then set the empty scroll aside and picked up the blood-red vial containing the Essence of the Nether Shadow.
To an ordinary cultivator, swallowing a high-tier meridian poison was equivalent to committing suicide. It would instantly corrode the dantian walls and lock the flow of spiritual energy for days.
But to Railin, high-concentration poison was simply another form of highly concentrated, volatile energy.
Uncorking the small crystal vial, Railin tipped all three drops of the crimson liquid straight onto his tongue!
SZZZZZ!
The moment the corrosive liquid hit his throat, a burning, arctic-cold numbness surged rapidly toward his heart and lower dantian, trying to freeze his blood flow and seal his meridians!
"Devour," Railin uttered coldly.
BOOM!
His Stage Two void core flared violently! The pitch-black vortex within his lower dantian roared to life, generating a terrifying gravitational force that violently dragged the corrosive poison directly into the center of the core!
The volatile, toxic energy fought back, thrashing madly like a trapped wild beast, but against the absolute devouring nature of the void, it stood no chance. Within less than ten minutes, the deadly poison was utterly broken down, stripped of its toxic attributes, and converted into pure, dense, icy spiritual essence that flowed smoothly into his meridians, further reinforcing his physical foundation!
HUUUU...
Railin exhaled a long breath of dark grey, toxic vapor, which dissolved harmlessly into the air upon contact with the chamber's protective array.
His skin now possessed a faint, translucent, jade-like luster, and his spiritual pressure—though thoroughly suppressed—carried a hidden, terrifying density that far exceeded normal Stage Two Foundation practitioners.
Satisfied with his progress, Railin closed his eyes, crossing his legs properly as he entered a state of deep, undisturbed meditation to prepare for the coming dawn.
Meanwhile, high atop the majestic, dark-granite peak of the Shadow Moon Peak, a far different scene was unfolding inside the lavish, candle-lit private sanctuary of Grand Elder Shu-Lin.
The air inside the grand pavilion was heavy with the rich scent of burning crimson incense, but the atmosphere was suffocatingly tense.
Grand Elder Shu-Lin sat upon a high, carved ebony throne, her deep purple robes embroidered with silver crescent moons. Her face was pale, her sharp, narrow eyes gleaming with an icy, murderous light as she listened to the report being delivered below her.
Standing at the center of the hall, bowing deeply with a terrified, sweaty face, was Elder Xiang. beside him stood Senior Disciple Lu Chen, his posture rigid, his face dark with lingering rage.
"Failed...?" Grand Elder Shu-Lin spoke, her voice low, raspy, and dangerously quiet, like the rattle of a viper. "Gao Feng... Gao Lei... and the four shadow assassins from the Ghost-Fog Valley... all killed without leaving a single body behind?"
"G-Grand Elder..." Elder Xiang stammered, his body trembling violently under her cold aura. "We... we do not know the exact details! Railin returned alone... his robes were completely clean, without a single bloodstain! And... and he broke through to the Second Level of Foundation Establishment!"
BANG!
Grand Elder Shu-Lin slammed her slender, ringed hand onto the armrest of her ebony throne, shattering the stone into fine dust!
"Incompetent fools!" she spat out, her eyes flashing with a terrifying crimson light. "You handed him a Stage Three borderland mission thinking it would be his grave, yet you ended up giving him two Stage Three assassins as cultivation pills! Peak Master Bing Lian must be laughing at us from her icy peak!"
"Grand Elder, please calm your rage," Lu Chen stepped forward, bowing respectfully, his voice cold and determined. "Railin relies merely on underhanded void tricks and high-tier defensive tokens. At the end of the day, he is nothing more than a newly ascended Stage Two greenhorn who got lucky."
"He registered for Bracket D under my supervision tonight," Lu Chen continued, a cruel, sadistic smile spreading across his face. "I have already arranged for my younger martial brother, Gao Yuan—a Stage Three Foundation veteran who practices our Shadow Moon's Blood-Raven Sword Art—to face him in the very first round of Bracket D. If Railin survives Gao Yuan, I will personally step onto the stage during the second round, activate the binding faction clause, and tear him limb from limb in front of the entire academy."
Grand Elder Shu-Lin leaned back against her throne, her narrow eyes gleaming with a calculating, deadly light as she pondered Lu Chen's words.
"Do not underestimate him again, Lu Chen," Shu-Lin warned coldly, pulling a dark crimson talisman from her sleeve and tossing it down to Lu Chen's feet. "This is the Soul-Locking Crimson Talisman. Secretly hand it to Gao Yuan before he steps onto the stage. The moment the battle begins, tell him to activate it instantly. It will seal the arena's defensive barriers for ten minutes, preventing even Peak Master Bing Lian or the tournament elders from stepping in to save him."
Lu Chen caught the crimson talisman, his eyes lighting up with vicious delight. "Grand Elder is truly wise! With this talisman, Railin will have nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and no one to beg for mercy!"
"Go," Shu-Lin commanded, waving her long sleeve dismissively. "Cleanse this stain from our Shadow Moon Peak's name before the main assembly concludes. If Railin lives past the second round... none of you need to come back to this peak."
"Understood!" Lu Chen and Elder Xiang shouted in unison, bowing deeply before turning and swiftly departing into the dark night.
Three days passed in the blink of an eye.
When the first golden rays of the morning sun broke through the thick sea of white clouds surrounding the Sun-Moon Academy, a deep, majestic horn echoed across all seven peaks!
WOOOOOOO—!
WOOOOOOO—!
The resounding blast of the Sun-Moon Grand Assembly Horn signaled the official commencement of the greatest tournament in the inner sect!
Dozens of massive, floating stone islands suspended by ancient gravitational arrays descended slowly around the central mountain peak, forming a colossal, circular amphitheater known as the Central Sun-Moon Arena.
Tens of thousands of outer disciples, inner disciples, core disciples, venue stewards, and elders filled the sprawling spectator stands, their excited shouts and cheering creating a deafening, thunderous roar that shook the very heavens!
At the highest tier of the spectator pavilion sat seven grand thrones reserved for the Seven Peak Masters and the Grand Elders of the Academy.
Peak Master Bing Lian sat upon her ice-carved throne, her face hidden behind a light veil of white frost, her azure eyes calmly observing the vast arena below. Beside her stood Rusunam Rusu, her hands neatly clasped, her eyes scanning the contestant waiting areas.
On the opposite side, Grand Elder Shu-Lin sat with a dark, haughty expression, flanked by dozens of elite Shadow Moon elders and disciples.
Down in the contestant waiting area of Bracket D, Railin stood quietly near the stone railing, dressed in his clean navy-blue robes, his hands tucked inside his sleeves as usual.
His pitch-black eyes swept over the massive arena, completely unfazed by the deafening noise of the tens of thousands of spectators.
Suddenly, a loud, booming voice amplified by spiritual energy reverberated across the entire arena:
"MATCH ONE OF BRACKET D! DISCIPLE RAILIN OF ICE MYSTIC PEAK VERSUS DISCIPLE GAO YUAN OF SHADOW MOON PEAK! BOTH CONTENDERS, STEP ONTO THE ARENA!"
SWISH!
A figure in crimson robes leaped high into the air, landing heavily on the central stone stage with a loud bang, drawing his long, jagged blood-sword with a malicious laugh. It was Gao Yuan, his eyes burning with intense killer intent as he stared directly at Railin.
Railin did not rush. He took a single, calm step forward, stepping off the edge of the waiting terrace, and walked down the air as if descending an invisible staircase, landing silently onto the polished stone stage.
The fight that would determine the fate of the Shadow Moon Peak's direct disciples was finally about to begin.
See you in next chapter......