The Valeblue Clan's Martial Arena buzzed with anticipation.
Every member of the family was gathered—from Patriarch Theron Valeblue and the venerable elders to the cluster of eager young disciples. The air thrummed with excitement.
Groups of young Valeblue disciples whispered among themselves, their eyes repeatedly drawn toward the lone figure seated cross-legged on the arena's center platform. Envy and anticipation lit their faces.
Aeris, standing like a radiant moon among stars, fixed her beautiful eyes on that figure—but her lips pressed tight with simmering resentment.
Darian Kaelthorn … you dare humiliate me? Worthless trash, just wait. Today, Brother Lucian will trample you beneath his feet.
The figure sat calmly, eyes closed, a faint silver Spirit Core hovering behind him, its powerful aura pulsing like a storm ready to break Lucian.
His heart beat fast with excitement and burning desire.
I never imagined it would come so soon! The Hundred Cities War, held once every three years for nearly a century, has been moved ahead of schedule. As the Valeblue family's top genius in Ignisheart Citadel Main City, I'm certain to be chosen to represent the city!
From what he'd heard, every selected youth would receive precious cultivation resources from their city lord before the war, propelling their strength to new heights. And the rewards for ranking high would be beyond dreams.
Even the cunning Lucian Valeblue trembled slightly.
His eyes snapped open, joy gleaming within—but then darkened with venomous intent.
A month has passed since that trash Darian challenged me over the Blood Dragon Jade. Whether he shows or not, the jade will be mine today. With its fortuitous inheritance, and the city lord's personal training, my cultivation and power will soar again! The Valeblue family is just a stepping stone. The Hundred Cities War will make my name thunder across the Eastern Lands!
Behind him, Patriarch Theron and the elders sat rigid. Expressions varied.
Eldric's aged face was etched with a gloomy, unreadable gaze fixed on his grandson. What thoughts hid behind those eyes?
Theron's own expression was calm—too calm for his troubled heart.
How could the Eastern Land's grandest event—the triennial Hundred Cities War—be moved ahead of schedule? Three days ago, Ignisheart Citadel's City Lord sent word he would visit today. Surely Lucian will be selected.
As patriarch, he was pleased a youth of his clan would participate, but another matter cast a shadow.
One month ago, Darian challenged Lucian for the Blood Dragon Jade. And today is the appointed day.
Darian… what are you thinking?
Theron sighed inwardly. He cared deeply for Darian, the orphan the clan had taken in, but as patriarch, with countless eyes watching, he could not be swayed by affection alone.
He recalled words spoken ten years ago, when a certain man left the clan:
"This jade is called the Blood Dragon Jade. It will grant a cultivator newly broken through to the Mortal Purification Stage an unexpected fortuitous encounter. It is my gift to Darian. Please give it to him when he turns eighteen, or when he reaches the Mortal Purification Stage."
Then the man vanished without a trace.
If only you had entrusted it to me privately. Why make it public? Perhaps you believed that brilliant youth would claim it easily—but fate rarely plays fair. Who could have foreseen Darian…
Theron sighed again, sorrow deepening for Darian. But he could not keep the Blood Dragon Jade forever.
He had little hope for Darian's challenge.
Several li east of the Valeblue estate, two figures streaked through the sky.
One was a dignified middle-aged man, hands clasped behind his back, haloed by a three- paces-wide ring of origin force.
Beside him, a cold-tempered yet stunning young woman kept pace, her beauty sharp as a blade.
Their destination was clear: the Valeblue family.
A hundred li above the earth, a giant bird beast beat its mighty wings through the sky.
On its back sat two youths.
The first was a boy of fifteen or sixteen, clad in a fine cyan robe embroidered with clouds at the hem.
His eyes were closed, cultivating; thick cyan origin force swirled around him as he drew in heaven and earth's energy. His aura soared.
Buzz!
Suddenly, the youth opened his eyes and rose. The cyan force faded, revealing a proud, handsome face with starry eyes and a tall, commanding frame.
Behind him, a girl of the same age opened her eyes. Her aura was ethereal, as if descended from the Ninth Heaven, her gaze cold except for a fleeting ripple when she glanced at him.
Buzz!
Under her scrutiny, the boy's aura surged to a peak, a golden crescent moon blooming behind him.
At that moment, an elderly figure silently appeared at the bird's tail.
Dressed in plain yellow robes, his ordinary appearance belied the flickering depth in his eyes.
He looked at the boy with admiration and wonder.
"The seventh stage of the Mortal Purification Stage —the Heaven-Charging Stage—at only fifteen years old. Truly one of the strongest disciples of this generation in the Divine Palace! If all goes well this trip, Young Master Lie's future is bright."
The bird beat faster, the cyan-robed youth gazed down at the earth with narrowed eyes.
A strange aura flowed from him—one unfamiliar even to the ethereal girl.
"Ten years… I never thought I'd return to the Eastern Lands. That battle back then… I'll never forget it. To see you crippled disappoints me deeply."
Time passed slowly, but none in the Valeblue Clan grew impatient.
Then Theron's expression shifted; he rose. The elders followed suit.
A warm male voice rang out over the arena:
"Patriarch Valeblue, it's been too long. I come uninvited—please forgive me, hahaha!"
As the voice faded, a middle-aged man appeared, nodding respectfully to Theron.
"Hahaha… City Lord Valtor Grimspire, your presence honors our humble clan!"
This was Valtor Grimspire, Lord of Ignisheart Citadel Main City.
While the two exchanged polite greetings, all eyes turned to the icy, stunning beauty who had accompanied him.
"My heavens! Who is she? So beautiful!"
"You country bumpkins don't know? That's Seraphina Virelle, eldest daughter of the Virelle family—one of Ignisheart's three great families!"
"Seraphina? The Ironbody Tier Perfection who fought and defeated three peers of the same realm?"
"She's as powerful as she is beautiful—at least on par with Miss Aeris. A true goddess!"
Hearing the whispers, Aeris's lips tightened in displeasure, her gaze flicking at Seraphina with a hint of jealousy.
What's so great about her? Hmph.
Seraphina ignored the chatter. Her cold gaze swept the arena, finally resting briefly on Lucian.
His spirit stirred, and he smiled faintly, the silver Spirit Core behind him pulsing brightly. She glanced away, leaving him awkward.
After polite talk, Valtor Grimspire got to the point.
"Patriarch Valeblue
, the Hundred Cities War has been moved forward. Ignisheart has three allotted spots. As I have no children, the three great families will each select one. Seraphina will be one. Where is your Lucian?"
"He has awaited your arrival, City Lord," Theron replied.
Lucian stepped forward, bowed. " Lucian greets City Lord."
"So young, yet you've condensed a Spirit Core and stepped into the Valor Soul Stage—the first of Mortal Purification Stage's seven realms. Not bad."
"Thank you for your praise, City Lord. This chance to join the Hundred Cities War is only possible because of you. I am deeply grateful."
Behind them, Eldric's wrinkled face beamed.
With the city lord's training, Lucian's strength would surely rise—perhaps even breakthrough.
Valtor Grimspire nodded. "You and Seraphina are confirmed. Now we need the Sarinor Clan's candidate. Come with me to fetch him. Once all three gather, I will personally train you for one month before the war."
Lucian's heart leapt, but his face remained composed.
Taking a deep breath, he said, "I will obey your command, but… I have one request."
The clan's curiosity piqued.
"Speak," Valtor smiled.
Lucian's voice was smooth and deliberate:
"City Lord, please speak to the Patriarch on my behalf to return something that belongs to me. It is unique to our clan, and with our family's Stormvale Strength, it greatly boosts my power for a short time. But ten years ago, because the Patriarch owed a favor, he promised it to another."
Inside, he sneered: Darian, your Blood Dragon Jade? From now on, it's mine.
Theron's face darkened. He had not expected Lucian to bring this up now—twisting the truth to claim the jade for the clan.
He opened his mouth to deny, but Eldric spoke first:
"Every word Lucian says is true. Patriarch, you owed a favor and gave it to a crippled boy. But now, with the Hundred Cities War near, every ounce of strength Lucian gains counts. Lord Grimspire, please help him reclaim it. Theron, you are the Patriarch!"
Theron's anger flared, but the tide had turned.
Should he protect a "cripple" or support the clan's hope?
Valtor Grimspire, unaware of the details, asked only two questions:
"First, in whose hands would this item be more useful? Second, can the one you promised it to use it now?"
Silence fell, waiting on Theron's answer.
He sighed, suppressing anger.
"Indeed… it would be best to give it to Lucian. But this item is not—"
Before he could finish, a clear voice rang out from afar:
"Uncle Theron, what's mine, I'll take back myself! Lucian, one-month challenge— Darian is here! If you have any shame left, fight me!"
Wrapped in a faint golden aura of origin force, Darian arrived at last, carrying a massive black chest on his back like an unsheathed sword. His aura blazed fiercely!
"It's Darian! He actually came!"
"I thought he'd be too scared! What's that thing on his back?"
"Who cares? He's here to be humiliated!"
Lucian's face darkened, a cold flash in his eyes.
Darian… so you really dare show up? I planned to take the jade without a fight—but since you seek death, don't blame me.
" Lord Grimspire, this cripple stole what should be mine. Now that he's here, let's fight openly—the winner takes the Blood Dragon Jade! Please bear witness."
The silver Spirit Core pulsed behind him, his Valor Soul aura flaring.
Darian leapt into the arena, stopping ten paces from Lucian.
Eldric's face paled.
Theron sighed silently: So be it—this is Darian's choice. If he loses, I'll at least keep him safe for life.
Valtor narrowed his eyes.
Darian… the boy who caused such a stir ten years ago? They say he's crippled, but… perhaps not.
" Darian, from today, the Blood Dragon Jade will be mine. As for you—stay a worthless cripple," Lucian said coldly, white origin force flaring.
Below, Aeris clenched her fists, lips pale, glaring at Darian.
Brother Lucian, crush him for me!
Darian's eyes burned with battle fire, golden-red qi and blood flowing, Holy Dao battle energy surging.
Lucian—I, Darian, am here. Blood Dragon Jade—what's mine, I will take back myself!