The tournament grounds buzzed with energy, but today it wasn't due to the duels.
At the far end of the Skyroot Plateau, an ancient altar had emerged from beneath the earth. Carved of black jade and veined with glowing runes, the Spirit Realm Gate loomed like the maw of a forgotten beast. The air around it shimmered with qi so dense, even Core Formation experts dared not step close.
This was the true purpose of the tournament.
The final prize.
A chance to enter the Spirit Realm, a pocket dimension that opened once every five years—filled with lost techniques, beast legacies, and cultivation opportunities that could propel a disciple several realms ahead.
Only ten contestants would be allowed in.
And Shen Zian intended to be one of them.
Later That Day – Central Pavilion
Judge Xun, his twin-faced mask gleaming in the morning sun, stood atop the tournament dais. A ripple of pressure swept the crowd as he raised a hand.
"Final selection begins in three days. Of the remaining contenders, only ten may enter the Spirit Realm Gate. You will each face one final match. The winners advance."
Zian, standing with Mei in the rogue cultivator ring, narrowed his eyes.
"That means twenty remain," Mei said. "And they'll likely match strongest to strongest."
"They're going to pair me with someone dangerous," Zian murmured. "Someone they think can break me before I reach the Gate."
"Or test you," Mei countered. "Judge Xun isn't just curious—he's invested."
Zian's reply was cut off as a judge's aide stepped forward and unfurled a scroll, reading the names of the final pairings.
The crowd went still when the fourth name was called.
"Shen Zian… will face… Shen Liang."
The silence that followed was thunderous.
Later – Rogue Camp
Zian sat by the fire, corpse flame dancing lazily in his palm.
Mei paced behind him, arms crossed.
"This is it," she said. "This is the confrontation you wanted. But it's too soon."
Zian didn't respond.
"You're strong, Zian, but Liang has had years in the clan's inner sanctum. Spirit-grade techniques. A divine beast egg nurtured since youth. Not to mention—"
"I know," Zian said quietly. "But it doesn't matter. He took everything from me. And now I'll take it back."
He looked up, flame reflecting in his irises.
"I'll show them what it means to fall… and rise reborn."
Elsewhere – Shen Clan Pavilion
Shen Liang sat cross-legged on a silk cushion, eyes closed, but his mind roiled.
How? How is he still alive? And worse—why is he strong?
A shadow entered the tent. Elder Shen Wei.
"He's grown quickly," Wei said. "Too quickly. His path is unnatural."
"I want no surprises," Liang said. "Prepare the [Sky-Fanged Qilin]. We end him in the ring."
"The Qilin is unstable. It's not ready for—"
"He doesn't deserve a fair fight."
Wei bowed and left.
Liang opened his eyes. They gleamed with arrogance, but under the surface… something else.
Fear.
Evening – Quiet Hill Overlooking the Altar
Zian meditated as corpse qi coursed through his meridians. He'd refined a new beast core—a Glass-Scaled Salamander, recently defeated during a spirit forest expedition. Its innate trait, Molten Veil, allowed temporary heat resistance and a minor qi armor—a small edge, but enough to survive elemental bursts.
"You're not cultivating like a tamer," Mei said behind him. "You're cultivating like a beast."
Zian smiled faintly.
"That's because I am one. They tried to discard me like a crippled cub. Now I'll show them what happens when a beast survives the culling."
"You'll be fighting your brother in front of the entire empire."
"Good," Zian said, rising. "Let them see what the Shen Clan truly creates."
Meanwhile – Spirit Realm Gate Core
Deep within the altar, ancient mechanisms stirred. Unseen by all but the highest elders, a misty shape moved within the gate's center.
It pulsed once.
Twice.
Then, ever so faintly, it opened a single glowing eye.
The gate was waking.
And it hungered for blood.