The next day, the qualifying round entered its third stage.
Nine mid–Foundation Establishment disciples who had won the first two rounds advanced, along with one unexpected participant—Li Shuang, who was still in the Qi Condensation stage.
This was the point where the true competition began.
The late–Foundation Establishment disciples, along with those from the Golden Core and even Nascent Soul stages, would soon begin to appear. To ensure fairness, disciples at the Golden Core and Nascent Soul levels were required to wear a special talisman that suppressed their cultivation to the late–Foundation Establishment stage. Its effect was similar to the restrictions within the Langya Secret Realm.
In fact, high-level disciples preparing to enter the Secret Realm usually wore this talisman well in advance, accustoming themselves to the reduced power of the Foundation Establishment stage.
After this third round, only one hundred contestants would remain. These hundred would then face three rounds of round-robin matches.
A perfect victory would secure a spot directly on the roster.
A perfect defeat meant immediate elimination.
A mixed record would be judged by the sect leaders after careful consideration.
From this stage onward, high-ranking members of the sect personally attended the matches. After the round-robin, they would give each disciple a strength ranking. The top fifty would earn the right to enter the Langya Secret Realm.
Ten years ago, the disciple acknowledged as first place had been none other than Li Shuang. She was so young then that everyone believed she would continue to dominate at least three sessions of the screening before reaching the age of fifty.
Who could have imagined… such a rare genius would fall?
And yet, this time, Li Shuang had once again advanced to the third round.
But she was still only at the Qi Condensation stage.
Could a disciple in Qi Condensation truly stand against late–Foundation Establishment cultivators? The odds were almost zero.
By early morning, the martial arts field was already buzzing.
"Let's see which match will be held in the Central Arena this time."
"Everyone knows the Sect Master and Peak Masters personally oversee the Central Arena. The matches scheduled there are always the most important!"
"I'm guessing it will be Senior Sister Jiang Yunge's match. This will be her final trip to the Langya Secret Realm."
"What about Senior Brother Wen Lin? He has a thunder spiritual root, and his rise in the past decade has been nothing short of astonishing. Surely the Sect Master will pay close attention to him."
"Don't forget Senior Sister Mu Jin, who has a rare wind spiritual root!"
The speculation grew heated.
When the disciples posted the new match list, a wave of surprise rippled through the crowd.
Central Arena: Li Shuang vs. Duan Ziyu
Gasps erupted. The Sect Master himself had scheduled Li Shuang's battle for the Central Arena!
Just yesterday, rumors had spread that Li Shuang had grasped the mysterious "Sword Domain."
But what exactly was the Sword Domain? Most disciples had no idea.
Could such a thing truly allow a Qi Condensation disciple to defeat someone at late–Foundation Establishment?
At the very least, in the eyes of the Sect Master, the outcome was uncertain. That alone made the match worthy of the Central Arena.
Li Shuang's opponent, Duan Ziyu, was no prodigy. His qualifications were mediocre, and he had been stuck at Foundation Establishment for decades. Having only just turned fifty, he was barely eligible for the screening rounds.
But mediocrity did not mean weakness.
On the contrary—his decades at Foundation Establishment had refined his techniques to an almost peerless degree. Few even among higher-level disciples could rival him at this stage.
Duan Ziyu represented the pinnacle of stability and refinement within the Foundation Establishment realm.
If Li Shuang could truly defeat him, she would rank at least within the top ten Foundation Establishment cultivators.
And yet… her cultivation was still only at Qi Condensation.
The battle promised to be fascinating.
Ye Zhaozhao glanced at the list, her expression darkening slightly. She too had a match today, but hers was relegated to a side stage.
"The Sect Master really favors Li Shuang!" Chang Le'an clenched his fists. "There are three rounds in the round-robin. Who knows? I might be matched with her later. Then I'll teach her a lesson for you."
Ye Zhaozhao spoke softly, her expression calm as always. "Third Brother, don't dwell on it. Let's just do our best."
Her voice was gentle, as if filled with concern, which only deepened Chang Le'an's pity for her. His little sister was so kind—he would do anything to protect her.
"It's a pity we have a match today. I can't watch her lose with my own eyes," Chang Le'an muttered bitterly.
Zhaozhao's eyes flickered. "If we finish quickly, we can still make it in time."
With a wave of her hand, Ye Zhaozhao summoned Long Yan.
"Zhao Zhao." The sword spirit's voice carried an almost tender warmth.
Chang Le'an frowned. "You're just a sword spirit. At a time like this, you should address me as Master."
But Long Yan ignored him. No one else could understand the bond between him and Zhaozhao.
To others, she appeared endlessly kind and gentle. But before him, she revealed her darkest, truest self. And it was precisely this side of her that made her so radiant.
He was willing to do anything for her—to fight, to kill, to carry out her will.
"Long Yan," Zhaozhao blinked softly. "I'm not skilled in swordsmanship. This time, I'll be relying on you."
Long Yan lifted his chin proudly. "Leave it to me."
He had already cultivated a spiritual form, and under Li Shuang's past guidance, his swordsmanship had reached impressive heights. Even without a master's support, he could defeat most opponents.
Yet…
A faint frown creased his brow.
Since leaving Li Shuang, his progress had stalled. His swordsmanship no longer advanced. Worse still, his spirit body seemed to be growing unstable, even polluted. The once-radiant Long Yin sword now dimmed with every passing day.
Sword spirits were rare precisely because they were born from their swords, perfectly compatible with them.
So why now… did he feel his bond with Long Yin weakening?
No. Impossible. He was Long Yin's spirit—born from it, one with it.
It must only be his imagination, muddled by recent troubles.
"Shh! The disciples from Wuqing Peak have arrived!"
A murmur ran through the crowd. Long Yan turned his gaze toward them, eyes narrowing.