The Inter-Sect Tournament was not held within the confines of any single tower or sect. It took place on a neutral, sacred ground: a colossal floating island that drifted high above the clouds, a place said to be a fragment of the Ancestor's very skull, where the Leyna of the world was at its purest and most potent.
As Bu He and his team stepped through the shimmering transportation gate, the sheer scale of the event took their breath away. Thousands of cultivators from dozens of sects filled a grand plaza, their colorful banners snapping in the high-altitude wind. The air was electric, a cacophony of Qi and Leyna signatures clashing and mingling. For the first time, Bu He felt crushingly small, a single, strange note in a world-shaking symphony. They were the sole representatives of the Alchemy Division, and their humble banner of a bubbling beaker looked pitiful next to the roaring dragons, soaring cranes, and piercing swords of the great sects.
An opening ceremony began, introducing the "champions" to the roaring crowds. The introductions were a parade of legends-in-the-making.
"From the Northern Ice Palace, the 'Ice Prince,' Leng Yue!" A young man with eyes the color of a frozen lake stepped forward, the very air around him seeming to frost over.
"From the Western Sands, the 'Silent Ghost,' Gui Ying!" A figure wrapped in shadowy silks appeared for a moment, then vanished, leaving only a whisper of displaced air.
"From the Serpent Marsh Sect, the Poison Dragon, Wei Lei!" a youth with unnervingly green lips and a sickly sweet smile bowed mockingly. Mei Qian, watching from the Sır Kulesi stands, narrowed her eyes.
Finally, "From the Golden Vein Hall of the Secret Tower, the 'Golden Lion,' Xue Feng!" Bu He's rival stepped into the light, his body radiating a palpable aura of pride and power.
When their turn came, the announcer hesitated. "And… from the Alchemy Division of the Secret Tower… the Heretic Team, led by Bu He."
A wave of silence, followed by curious and hostile murmurs, washed over them. They were the anomaly, the dark horse, the monster of the stories that had already begun to circulate.
A grand elder announced the first trial. "The Trial of the Shadowwood! Each team will enter the enchanted forest arena. Your objective is to retrieve a Spirit Flag from the grove at its center. All forms of combat are permitted. The first ten teams to return with a flag will advance. The rest will be eliminated!"
One by one, teams were teleported into the arena. When their turn came, the world dissolved into a swirl of light, and they found themselves standing in a forest unlike any other. The trees were ancient and twisted, their leaves a deep, shadowy black. The air was unnaturally still, and the ground was covered in a thick mist that distorted sound and sight.
"Be careful," Lian Hua whispered, her eyes wide with concentration. "The Leyna here is… wrong. It's twisted, like a tangled knot. It's designed to confuse normal spiritual senses."
This was their first advantage. While other teams would be half-blind, Lian Hua could navigate the distorted flows. As they moved deeper, Jian Ming took the lead, his mind already mapping their surroundings. Suddenly, Lian Hua stopped them. "Ambush. All around us."
Before she could specify, the shadows themselves detached from the trees. Figures in dark, tight-fitting leather materialized from the gloom, daggers glinting. It was the team from the Shadow Sect, led by the Silent Ghost, Gui Ying.
"The Heretic Vein," Gui Ying's voice hissed from all directions at once. "A rare ingredient. We will claim it for our sect."
The shadow assassins struck. They moved without sound, their blades coated in a paralytic poison. But they had not counted on the team's synergy. "Three o'clock, Ci Ying, a spike from the ground!" Lian Hua yelled. Ci Ying, without looking, stomped her foot, and a blast of fire erupted exactly where a shadow was beginning to coalesce. "Jian Ming, their pattern is a pincer, they're trying to isolate Bu He!"
"Then we don't let them!" Jian Ming commanded. "Ci Ying, we need light! Not an attack, a wall! Burn away their advantage!"
Understanding dawned on Ci Ying's face. She slammed her palms together, and a brilliant, roaring ring of fire exploded outward, encircling them. The shadows receded, and their attackers were forced into the open, their faces grim.
Gui Ying, seeing his stealth advantage lost, moved personally. He became a phantom, a blur of motion that seemed to be in three places at once. He was aiming for Bu He.
But Bu He was ready. He remembered Bao's words. He was the anvil. As Gui Ying's poisoned blade darted towards him, Bu He didn't try to parry. He took a half-step, letting the dagger slice across his ribs. The pain was sharp, the poison a cold fire that tried to seep into his veins.
But then, his Blood Core roared. The crimson light flared under his skin, and his blood, a force of pure, primal Leyna, met the poison and annihilated it. Gui Ying's eyes widened in shock behind his mask. No one had ever shrugged off his Shadow-Numbing poison before.
That shock was the only opening Bu He needed. He unleashed a technique he had only practiced in his mind, one that defied the logic of Qi. It wasn't a graceful leap; it was an explosive burst of pure physical power from his legs, a 'Traceless Burst.' He vanished from where he stood and reappeared directly in front of the stunned Gui Ying.
The pain from the dagger cut, now fully metabolized by his Dark Ascension, surged through him as pure power. He brought his fist around in a devastating arc.
Gui Ying tried to raise his daggers to block, but it was too late. Bu He's fist, glowing with a faint crimson aura, slammed into his chest.
The sound of the impact was like a muffled drumbeat. Gui Ying was sent flying backward, crashing through two of the shadowy trees before landing in a heap, motionless.
The remaining Shadow Sect disciples froze in terror.
But just as Bu He took a breath, his chest heaving, Lian Hua cried out again, her voice strained. "More are coming! A different team! Fast!"
From the other side of the clearing, a wave of biting frost and cold, arrogant Qi washed over them. The 'Ice Prince,' Leng Yue, and his team from the Ice Palace Sect had arrived, and their frozen eyes were fixed on the Spirit Flag, and the bloodied but victorious heretic standing before it.