The arena was engulfed in absolute, shattered silence. The crowd remained frozen in shock, unable to discern whether what had just happened was a dream or reality. Some spectators were even falling from their seats, and the air in the arena carried a metallic tension, as though everyone were holding their breath.
Zeravon stood calmly, the half of his broken sword resting across his shoulder, as if he had done nothing at all.
Whispers barely escaped the lips of the disciples:
> "Two Astral Cores…"
"A Forbidden God Cultivator…"
The seeds of these rumors had already begun to spread throughout the entire cultivation world.
Wuji XieJun's smile concealed decades of experience and untold power. His eyes shimmered with both curiosity and a faint warning, as if silently declaring, "This boy is no ordinary mortal… but I will see just how far he can go."
---
Wuji XieJun rose from his throne, his lips curving into a calm smile. He clapped his hands—clap! clap!—and his voice echoed through the arena:
> "The competition… is finished."
All sect leaders, disciples, and the crowd focused solely on Zeravon, their shock evident.
Wuji XieJun descended slowly from his seat, coming directly before Zeravon. His eyes carried the same mix of curiosity and danger.
He waved his hand, and three items appeared before Zeravon:
1. Void Origin Jade: a black-and-silver jade stone capable of activating the hidden meridians within a cultivator's body.
2. Heavenly Vein Pill: a rare alchemical pill that boosts cultivation speed tenfold for an entire year.
3. Soulbound Armor Fragment: an ancient defensive treasure that automatically shields its user from mortal attacks.
The crowd collectively gasped. Such treasures were normally kept deep within sect vaults, yet Wuji XieJun had offered them without hesitation.
Then he spoke calmly:
> "And one more thing… Zeravon, a talent like yours requires a proper master.
I offer you a place as my disciple. Should you accept, your future will be assured."
The arena froze. All the leaders were in shock. In Yueyin's eyes, a strange shine flickered.
Zeravon glanced at her for a second, then cold words left his lips:
> "Sect… disciple? I am no one's disciple.
I carve my own path."
The arena erupted instantly—noise, gasps, disbelief. Wuji XieJun's lips curved into a peculiar grin, as if he had anticipated this response.
> "Interesting… Very interesting."
The competition was officially over. The three sect leaders—Yun Xiao, Mu Shenyue, and Lian Ye—immediately attended to their disciples. Haoran, Yan Ya, and Lian Tianyu lay unconscious on the ground.
The leaders administered high-grade Healing Pills. To the crowd, they appeared calm, but within Lian Ye's heart, a single thought burned: "Allowing Zeravon to live… will be a grave mistake."
Wuji XieJun then turned to the leaders. Without a word, they handed over the token pieces in their possession, as if they had no choice.
Wuji XieJun raised his hand, and a mysterious box appeared in his palm.
Handing it to Zeravon, he spoke calmly:
> "You are the winner of this competition. Here is your prize, along with a token from me. Use it whenever you wish, but remember—cracking this token is a formal request. Once you do, I will send an envoy. This envoy will retrieve you no matter where you are. At that moment, you may state your intentions freely… but know this—once you choose this path, the consequences of your decisions will not rest solely upon you. Every path carries responsibility."
"I do not force you," Wuji continued. "The choice is yours. But remember—resources and allies make all the difference in this world. When you are ready, crack the token. Then I will send a trusted envoy, one who understands risk, to bring you. Make your choice wisely."
Wuji XieJun glanced toward the arena, toward the still wide-eyed leaders. He nodded lightly, as if some invisible agreement had passed between them. The attendants of StormHeaven continued securing their pouches, yet their gaze remained fixed on Zeravon—their secret still intact.
Jinyao Mei watched Zeravon as if he were her own disciple, pride and tension both present in her eyes. Yueyin, standing in the distance, smiled faintly—a smile even she did not fully understand.
Though the competition had ended, silence lingered over the arena. Leaders attended to their disciples, and the crowd remained submerged in shock.
Lian Ye and Mu Shenyue exchanged a subtle glance from their seats. Their eyes gleamed sharply, and without uttering a word, they made a slight gesture to their elders. It was so subtle that the untrained eye would not notice—but Zeravon felt a disturbance ripple through his body, as if an invisible thread were watching him.
His expression remained calm, yet a thought flashed in his mind.
He stored all the gifts and token pieces safely in his storage ring. The half of his broken sword was adjusted across his back. Then, in full view of everyone, he offered a slight, respectful bow to Wuji XieJun.
> "For everything… thank you."
A smirk appeared on Wuji XieJun's lips.
Zeravon left the Heavenly Lotus Sect. As he ventured deeper into the jungle, the air grew colder and heavier. The half of the broken sword rested on his shoulder. Inside him, his seal was beginning to crack—the clash between the two Astral Cores tearing at his veins.
Blood trickled from the corner of his lips, though he showed no one.
He chose a remote path, moving deeper into the jungle. Night had begun to fall.
With each step, he felt a shadow tracking him.
Suddenly—a cold shiver ran down his spine.
"Someone is following me."
The next moment, without making a sound, Zeravon vanished. His traces dissolved into the jungle air.
He appeared directly inside an ancient cave. The narrow entrance descended deep into darkness, like an endless sea. Without hesitation, Zeravon entered. When he had descended one hundred meters, he waved his hand and completely sealed the cave entrance. Now, the world outside was entirely cut off.
One by one, Zeravon drew seven token pieces from his storage ring. He arranged them in a circle on the ground. As soon as they came together, a strange resonance began, as if the pieces recognized each other.
The next step… Zeravon reached into his ring and withdrew a golden-silver box. The surface was covered in celestial runes, and a faint light leaked from it.
He opened the box slowly. The moment the lid lifted, blinding white energy exploded outward.
Setting aside his broken sword, he felt the pressure in his body release. His chest felt heavy, his veins burned… and darkness clouded his eyes.
He whispered:
> "My body… is not under my control yet…"
The next instant, he collapsed into unconsciousness.
Suddenly, the energy moved as if alive, flowing into his chest without permission.
Zeravon's body shook violently—his eyes rolled.
The box remained open, continuously pouring white energy into him. His teeth clenched tightly, and his body alternately froze and trembled.
---
Five days passed.
Silence enveloped the cave, but at its center, a terrifying scene unfolded. Zeravon lay unconscious, his entire body engulfed in a white aura. As the energy flowed into him, his veins crackled, and his Astral Cores faintly glowed.
The box was now half-empty, yet the energy seemed infinite.
Every pulse brought simultaneous burning and freezing sensations through his veins. Each breath felt like an explosion. Whispers echoed in his unconscious mind, as if the box itself were speaking to him…
And Zeravon continued absorbing the energy, lost in unconsciousness.
----
To Be Continued...