The first golden rays of dawn pierced through the heavy, swirling sea of mountain mist surrounding the central peaks of the Sun-Moon Academy. As the ancient, grand bronze bells echoed six times across the sprawling valleys, a palpable, electricity-like tension filled the cold morning air, settling heavily upon every peak, valley, and stone corridor of the sect.
Today was the absolute climax of the Inner Sect Grand Assembly—the Top Four Championship Stage.
Long before the sun had fully cleared the eastern mountain ridges, the massive, amphitheater-style arena surrounding the Central Sun-Moon Ring was completely packed to maximum capacity. Over forty thousand inner disciples, outer sect observers, venue stewards, elder representatives from prominent noble clans, and hidden inspectors from the outer borders sat packed tightly in rows of carved granite seats that spiraled endlessly upward. The deafening hum of tens of thousands of simultaneous conversations created a low, continuous roar that vibrated the very foundation of the mountain.
Yesterday's brutal, astonishing events in Bracket D had sent violent shockwaves through every single faction within the academy.
Railin—a newly ascended, seemingly insignificant disciple hailing from the long-dormant, almost forgotten Ice Mystic Peak—had not merely shattered the arrogant expectations of the dominant Shadow Moon Peak. He had done something entirely unthinkable: he had executed two of their elite direct disciples back-to-back on the high stage. More terrifyingly, he had left Lu Chen, a Stage Four veteran, as nothing more than a withered, dried-up, lifeless husk on the granite floor.
Throughout the night, rumors had spread through the sect's inner circles like wildfire:
"Did you hear the news from the high peaks? Senior Disciple Mo Ji officially emerged from his secluded retreat inside the Shadow Cave late last night!"
"The first-ranked direct disciple of Shadow Moon Peak?! The absolute Stage Five tyrant?!"
"Yes! They say the moment Mo Ji stepped out and saw Lu Chen's withered corpse lying in the cold mortuary hall, his blood-shadow qi flared so violently that the sheer pressure shattered half the ancient pine forest on the southern slopes of Shadow Moon Peak! He swore in front of Grand Elder Shu-Lin to tear Railin's soul apart and refine his bones into dust on the stage today!"
"Railin might have somehow managed to reach Stage Three through some obscure method, but facing a genuine Stage Five monster like Mo Ji... this isn't going to be a match. It's going to be a execution."
"That kid Railin was too ruthless yesterday. He didn't leave Shadow Moon Peak any face. Today, he will pay for that ruthlessness with every drop of his blood."
High atop the grand spectator pavilion, perched upon the highest floating platform reserved for the sect's elite leadership, the atmospheric pressure was suffocatingly heavy.
Grand Elder Shu-Lin sat upon a newly brought, intricately carved ebony throne—the previous one having been crushed to dust by her rage the evening before. Her pale, wrinkled face was utterly devoid of human emotion, frozen like a mask of death. However, her deep crimson eyes were heavily bloodshot, glowing with a chilling, unrestrained murderous intent that made even the surrounding venue elders keep a distance of at least ten paces.
Standing directly beside her throne was a tall, slender young man dressed in dark crimson robes trimmed with intricate silver silk thread. He had sharp, pale features, long raven hair tied neatly with a black jade pin, and pupils that resembled pools of dark, stagnant blood.
A heavy, ancient-looking sword sheath rested across his broad back. Uniquely, the entire sheath was tightly wrapped in thick, pitch-black iron chains that hummed continuously with a suppressed, sinister, and terrifying spiritual aura.
This was Mo Ji—the undisputed first-ranked direct disciple of the Shadow Moon Peak, a true Stage Five Foundation Establishment powerhouse who had dominated the inner sect rankings for three consecutive years.
"Mo Ji," Shu-Lin spoke, her raspy, dried-up voice sounding like heavy stones grinding together in a dark pit. "You know what must be accomplished on that stage today. The honor, the reputation, and the future bloodline prestige of our Shadow Moon Peak rest entirely upon how thoroughly you destroy that insect."
Mo Ji did not turn his head to look at her. His cold, crimson gaze was fixed entirely on the dark contestant waiting corridor down below, completely unbothered by the grand scale of the arena.
"Grand Elder, you worry far too much about minor grievances," Mo Ji replied smoothly. His voice was flat, devoid of any visible excitement, anger, or nervousness. "Lu Chen lost yesterday simply because he was weak, sloppy, and relied far too heavily on cheap, superficial tricks. Railin's so-called devouring method is merely an obscure, low-tier spirit-draining art that works against unprepared fools. Before my Abyssal Shadow Sutra, his pathetic void tricks are nothing more than dust waiting to be swept away."
On the opposite side of the high platform, Peak Master Bing Lian sat silently upon her translucent ice throne, flanked by Rusunam Rusu. Bing Lian's striking azure eyes calmly observed Mo Ji's presence from behind her frost veil, her sharp gaze lingering briefly on the heavy black chains wrapped around the crimson sword sheath.
"Master..." Rusu whispered softly from behind her own white veil, her tone laced with deep concern. "Mo Ji has brought the Abyssal Soul-Chaining Sword. That weapon is a genuine mid-tier Earth artifact specifically forged to lock down a target's spiritual domain and slice directly through soul essence. If Railin tries to use his spiritual needle attacks against him, that sword's field might counteract it."
"Railin understands his own strength better than anyone in this arena," Bing Lian replied smoothly, her cold, melodic voice completely undisturbed. "Do not let your mind be clouded by another's momentum. Watch the stage."
WOOOOOOO—!
The deep, majestic blast of the grand assembly horn resonated across the floating islands, instantly silencing the forty-thousand-strong crowd!
A senior Grand Referee from the Enforcement Hall—an elderly cultivator wearing gold-trimmed dark robes—stepped onto the elevated center ring. He raised his hand, expanding his immense Stage Six spiritual pressure across the arena to suppress the lingering noise.
"THE TOP FOUR CHAMPIONSHIP STAGE OF THE INNER SECT GRAND ASSEMBLY OFFICIALLY COMMENCES!" the referee's voice boomed like rolling thunder, echoed by spiritual amplification arrays embedded in the granite walls. "THE FOUR BRACKET CHAMPIONS, STEP FORWARD AND RECEIVE YOUR DESTINY!"
Four distinct figures stepped out from their respective subterranean waiting passages, walking onto the central stone platform with steady, deliberate steps.
From Bracket A walked Senior Sister Yan Yue of the Vermilion Flame Peak, a renowned Stage Four peak practitioner wearing fiery red battle robes, her hand resting on the hilt of a blazing flame-whip wrapped around her waist.
From Bracket B walked Senior Brother Zhao Ling of the Heavenly Sword Peak, a calm, towering Stage Four sword cultivator carrying a massive, unpolished iron broadsword across his shoulder.
From Bracket C walked Mo Ji of the Shadow Moon Peak, his dark crimson robes fluttering gently in the high mountain wind as his body continuously exuded a suffocating, heavy Stage Five aura that caused the ambient spirit energy on the stage to distort slightly.
And finally, stepping out from the darkness of Bracket D's corridor, was Railin.
He wore his clean, dark navy-blue robes, his hands comfortably tucked inside his wide sleeves as usual. His pitch-black pupils were utterly calm, reflecting the bright morning sunlight without a single ripple of hesitation or anxiety.
To the untrained eyes of the audience and even most elders, his newly consolidated Stage Three foundation was perfectly concealed beneath his deep void aura. He appeared as nothing more than a quiet, ordinary, and unremarkable cultivator who had somehow survived the previous rounds.
The Grand Referee unrolled a glowing golden array scroll in mid-air above his head.
"THE SEMI-FINAL MATCH-UPS WILL NOW BE AUTOMATICALLY DRAWN BY THE GRAND ANCIENT FORMATION OF THE ACADEMY!"
SWISH!
The referee injected a thread of high-tier spirit energy into the scroll. Instantly, two blinding beams of golden light shot up from the array into the sky, expanding into massive, glowing characters that hovered directly above the amphitheater for all forty thousand spectators to see:
MATCH ONE: ZHAO LING (HEAVENLY SWORD PEAK) VS. YAN YUE (VERMILION FLAME PEAK)
MATCH TWO: RAILIN (ICE MYSTIC PEAK) VS. MO JI (SHADOW MOON PEAK)
The very instant the match-ups solidified in the sky, a thunderous, ear-splitting roar erupted from the entire spectator stand!
"MATCH TWO! IT'S RAILIN VERSUS MO JI RIGHT IN THE SEMI-FINALS!"
"The ancient array actually paired them directly! Shadow Moon Peak gets their absolute revenge match in the very first round of the finals!"
"Railin's luck has completely run out. If he had drawn Yan Yue or Zhao Ling, he might have had a tiny chance to forfeit gracefully or survive. But against Mo Ji... Mo Ji won't even give him the chance to say the word 'surrender'!"
Down on the stage, Mo Ji turned his head slowly. His blood-red pupils locked directly onto Railin's completely emotionless face. A thin, dark, and unimaginably cruel smirk slowly curved Mo Ji's pale lips.
"It appears even the ancient formation of our ancestors wishes to see your filthy blood spilled upon this stone without delay, little mouse," Mo Ji whispered, his voice carrying a dark, echoing vibration of spiritual pressure that traveled through the air, reaching Railin's ears alone. "Do not dare to hide inside your waiting room when your name is called. I want to feel every bone in your body snap beneath my boots before I crush your dantian."
Railin casually glanced at Mo Ji. His pitch-black eyes were entirely unbothered, as if he were looking at a piece of dry wood or a lifeless rock on the roadside.
"You talk far too much for someone who claims to be a tyrant," Railin said smoothly, his tone deadpan and completely devoid of fear. "Save your breath for the platform. Your Stage Five core will taste much better if you aren't completely exhausted from barking beforehand."
Mo Ji's eyes instantly narrowed into two razor-sharp, lethal slits of murderous rage. The heavy black chains wrapped around his ancient sword sheath rattled violently as his Stage Five qi flared out uncontrollably for a fraction of a second, cracking the granite floor beneath his feet!
Without another word, Railin turned his back calmly, walking toward his designated preparation chamber. The stage was set, the drawing was absolute, and the final, catastrophic clash between the Ice Mystic Peak and the Shadow Moon Peak was now completely inevitable.
The quiet, ice-carved interior of Waiting Chamber 04 offered a stark, refreshing contrast to the deafening, bloodthirsty roar of the forty thousand spectators packing the Central Sun-Moon Arena outside.
The moment the heavy, runic stone door rolled shut and locked with a metallic click, the ambient noise of the stadium was completely cut off, replaced by an absolute, heavy silence.
Railin walked over to the center of the chamber, where a simple array plate emitted a soft, calming white light. He did not sit down on the meditation cushion to adjust his breath or practice any last-minute mental focus techniques. Instead, he simply stood near the center, his hands folded neatly behind his dark navy robes, his posture relaxed, almost as if he were taking a leisurely stroll through a quiet garden rather than waiting to step into a life-and-death clash against the inner sect's most infamous Stage Five tyrant.
Zzzzz...
Suddenly, a subtle, cold fluctuation in the surrounding spirit energy rippled across the chamber.
A faint cloud of shimmering arctic mist condensed out of thin air near the stone entrance, and Rusunam Rusu stepped out from the shadows. Her sharp, attractive face was pale, her dark brows furrowed in a tight knot of intense concentration and anxiety.
"Railin," Rusu began immediately, her voice hushed yet vibrating with urgent tension. "The drawing was manipulated."
Railin didn't even turn his head fully, only casting a quiet, sideways glance at her. " manipulated?"
"Yes," Rusu confirmed, taking a quick step closer. "The automated array scroll used by the Grand Referee is controlled by the central formation core of the main peak. While Peak Master Bing Lian was keeping her gaze locked on Grand Elder Shu-Lin, one of the high-ranking stewards from the Shadow Moon Peak subtly injected a dark-shadow spiritual trace into the array matrix right before the draw. They purposely engineered this outcome to pair you directly with Mo Ji in the semi-finals."
A subtle, nearly imperceptible smile curved the edge of Railin's lips. His pitch-black pupils remained completely motionless, like deep pools of standing dark water.
"Does it matter?" Railin asked smoothly, his tone flat and unbothered. "Whether I face him in the semi-finals or the finals, the result on the stage remains identical. Shadow Moon Peak wants my blood, and I require the Stage Five core residing inside Mo Ji's dantian. The array merely saved us half an hour of useless waiting."
Rusu stared at him, momentarily rendered speechless by his unnatural, cold composure. Any ordinary Stage Three disciple placed in this situation—knowing that the game was rigged against them and that a legendary Stage Five killer was waiting on the stage with a murderous intent—would be sweating profusely or desperately seeking a way to forfeit safely. Yet, Railin spoke of Mo Ji's core as if it were already a fruit hanging from a branch, waiting to be plucked.
Rusu took a deep breath, forcing her rising anxiety down as she raised her hand.
With a soft flick of her sleeve, a glowing crimson talisman, bound tightly with dark blue restriction threads, materialized in her palm. The talisman radiated a dense, ancient, and extremely sharp aura that caused the surrounding air inside the chamber to hum violently.
"This is the Frost-Bite Piercing Talisman," Rusu whispered, offering it forward. "It is a grade-four attack talisman crafted by Master Bing Lian herself. It contains three strikes of condensed high-tier Frost Blade Intent. If you find yourself trapped within Mo Ji's Abyssal Shadow Sutra domain, activate this immediately. It can momentarily cut through his Stage Five defensive barrier and buy you enough time to leap off the stage and claim forfeit in front of the Grand Referee."
Railin looked down at the glowing crimson talisman resting in her hand.
He knew Rusu's intentions were entirely genuine; she was genuinely trying to preserve his life against what she perceived as an impossible, lethal disparity in strength. However, relying on external talismans or public forfeits was entirely outside Railin's calculations. The Ashen Devouring Technique demanded absolute, unyielding dominion over his opponents. To show weakness or rely on borrowed ice intent would only taint the pure, void foundation he had built.
"Keep it, Senior Sister," Railin replied calmly, raising his hand to gently push her palm back. "If I cannot even handle a Stage Five practitioner who relies on borrowed sword chains and cheap domain tricks, I would have no right to stand behind Peak Master Bing Lian as an elite disciple of the Ice Mystic Peak."
Rusu's eyes widened slightly in surprise. She wanted to argue, to reprimand him for his reckless pride, but looking into Railin's dark, bottomless eyes, she realized that his words were not driven by arrogant young blood or ignorant bravado. It was an absolute, terrifying self-confidence anchored in absolute power.
"You... you truly intend to take his Stage Five attack head-on?" Rusu asked, her voice barely audible.
"Mo Ji thinks he is the hunter standing atop the peak," Railin said softly, turning his gaze toward the heavy stone door leading out to the sunlit arena. "He does not realize that the moment he stepped onto that stage today, he became nothing more than a nutrient waiting to be consumed."
BOOM—!
Outside, a sudden, massive explosion of fiery crimson energy and sharp sword intent erupted across the Central Arena, signaling the dramatic conclusion of the first semi-final match!
The sky above the amphitheater flared with bright orange sparks as Senior Sister Yan Yue of the Vermilion Flame Peak was forced back three steps, her blazing whip scorched by the sheer, unyielding weight of Senior Brother Zhao Ling's massive iron broadsword.
"MATCH ONE IS DECIDED!" the Grand Referee's voice echoed across the stadium, amplified by the spiritual arrays. "VICTOR: ZHAO LING OF THE HEAVENLY SWORD PEAK! ZHAO LING ADVANCES TO THE FINAL CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH!"
The spectator stands erupted into wild applause and cheers for Zhao Ling, but the excitement lasted only for a brief moment. Almost instantly, a heavy, suffocating wave of anticipation settled over the entire stadium once again. Everyone in the forty-thousand-strong crowd knew that the true main event—the blood feud between Ice Mystic Peak and Shadow Moon Peak—was up next.
High atop the spectator pavilion, Grand Elder Shu-Lin slowly stood up from her ebony throne. Her crimson eyes gleamed with a cold, terrifying light as she looked down at Mo Ji, who was standing at the edge of the platform.
"Mo Ji," Shu-Lin commanded rasply, her voice vibrating with raw malice. "Do not leave a single piece of his bone intact. Show the entire academy what happens when an insect dares to cross the Shadow Moon Peak."
Mo Ji did not bother replying with words.
He simply reached up, grabbing the heavy black chains wrapped around his back-slung sword sheath. With a slow, deliberate movement, he stepped off the edge of the floating platform!
SWISH—!
Instead of falling normally, Mo Ji's body dissolved mid-air into a streak of pitch-black, liquid shadow! He surged through the high sky like a dark phantom, descending upon the Central Arena stage with a heavy, ground-shaking thud!
BOOM!
The moment Mo Ji's boots touched the black granite floor, a violent, suffocating shockwave of dark blood-shadow qi erupted from his body in all directions! The black granite beneath his feet instant cracked into thousands of fine fissures, and a dark, icy mist expanded fifty paces out, blotting out the bright morning sunlight and plunging his half of the stage into eerie darkness!
The entire crowd gasped in horror at the sheer, suffocating weight of his Stage Five spiritual pressure!
"STAGE TWO SEMI-FINAL MATCH!" the Grand Referee shouted, his voice tight as he felt the intense bloodlust filling the ring. "RAILIN OF THE ICE MYSTIC PEAK VERSUS MO JI OF THE SHADOW MOON PEAK!"
"BOTH COMBATANTS, STEP ONTO THE RING!"
Inside Waiting Chamber 04, Railin felt the heavy stone doors begin to slowly slide open, revealing the blinding sunlight and the roaring, chaotic spectacle of the arena outside.
He did not rush. He did not flare his spiritual energy or draw a weapon.
Railin adjusted the cuffs of his dark navy robes, stepped over the stone threshold, and walked calmly into the open air of the arena, stepping onto the cracked, shadow-draped granite stage toward thewaiting Stage Five monster.
See you in next chapter...