Once the ten initial defenders had been decided, the forty challengers below began scrutinizing them, each calculating which platform to attack.
For a time, the atmosphere grew strangely quiet.
"Haha, since everyone is being so courteous, let me be the first then!"
A figure shot onto Arena Eight, his bold action sparking a chain reaction. In the blink of an eye, nine of the ten arenas had challengers. Only Arena One remained silent and untouched.
Wang Jianqiang's gaze drifted toward the lone figure seated cross-legged atop that first platform.
Name: Ye LingyunGender: MaleRealm: Qi Refining PerfectionAge: 30/100Spiritual Roots: Metal and Earth Dual RootsFavorability: 0
"It's him? No wonder."
Wang Jianqiang's pupils shrank as the information appeared before him.
Ye Lingyun—his name echoed through the entire outer sect like thunder.
He had joined the sect ten years ago, and in just nine years, advanced to the very peak of Qi Refining. Shortly after his breakthrough, he ventured out to temper himself, and in a clash with the demonic path, slew three Qi Refining Perfection cultivators single-handedly.
He was widely acknowledged as one of the outer sect's strongest—a blazing star, a peerless figure.
Before the Grand Tournament had even begun, he was already the most anticipated candidate for champion.
No wonder none dared to challenge him.
While Wang Jianqiang studied him, the battles on the other nine platforms began to settle. Of the nine arenas, four had seen their defenders replaced.
Su Yutong, however, still shone with dazzling brilliance, defeating her opponent with ease.
After half an hour of recovery, the second round of challenges began. Then the third, the fourth…
By the end of five rounds, only Arena One and Arena Nine still held their original defenders.
No one had dared touch Ye Lingyun, while Su Yutong had swatted aside five challengers in a row.
Soon came the sixth round.
At last, Wang Yunyao moved.
A violet gleam flashed beneath her feet as she soared upward, landing on Arena Nine with breathtaking speed.
Wang Jianqiang could not help but chuckle.
Su Yutong's strength was undeniable—guaranteed a spot in the top ten, perhaps even contending for the top six. To challenge her was hardly the wisest choice.
But Yunyao was clever. She had seen that clearly. Her decision, then, was for another reason—to stand against the one who had belittled him.
"Wang Yunyao—it's you!"
Su Yutong's eyes narrowed sharply as she saw her new opponent. Her lips curled into a cold sneer.
"So foolish. Do you really think that reaching Qi Refining Perfection and clutching two high-grade artifacts from that useless man will let you beat me?"
"Whether I can or not—let the fight decide."
Yunyao's expression was equally frosty, her words sharp as blades.
People were not all the same. To Chen Jiaojiao, her ties to Wang Jianqiang were merely transactional, nothing owed on either side.
But for Wang Yunyao, it was different.
Born low, her childhood had been nothing but hardship. Without timely aid, she would have died long ago. Gratitude had become the core of her being.
With her mediocre talent, the chance of ever forming a Foundation had been slim. But now, because of Wang Jianqiang, her cultivation had surged. Foundation Establishment was close at hand.
Foundation meant not only power, but transformation of life itself—longer years, a rebirth in essence.
That was a grace akin to being remade.
She bore no enmity toward Su Yutong. But Su Yutong had mocked and vilified Wang Jianqiang, and that made her enemy enough.
"Hmph. Ignorant fool!"
Su Yutong's face darkened.
In her heart, she had always looked down on Wang Yunyao. Even if her cultivation now rivaled her own, Su Yutong saw it as nothing but borrowed time.
In talent, in background, in innate superiority, Yutong believed she was unmatched. Yunyao was but a duckling playing at being a swan.
Their achievements could never compare.
So when Yunyao answered her on equal footing, Su Yutong saw not equality but insult.
"Wretch—I'll make you regret this!"
With a cold snort, she raised her finger. A flying sword burst forth, aura sharp enough to slice the air.
Yunyao did not flinch. Her own flying sword roared skyward.
Boom!
The blades collided midair, rebounding in opposite directions.
The clash of qi forced Yunyao back several steps, while Su Yutong only trembled faintly.
"She's too strong! Using only a low-grade artifact, she can already suppress Wang Yunyao."
"As expected of Fairy Su."
"Strength is what matters. That Yunyao girl's foundation is shallow. She's only come this far leaning on artifacts. Against ordinary opponents it works—but against true prodigies, she crumbles."
The spectators erupted with commentary, voices buzzing.
Beside Wang Jianqiang, a plump man jeered the loudest.
"That slut must have latched onto some wealthy patron. Thought she could soar like a phoenix? Against real talent, she'll be beaten back into the mud."
Hatred twisted his expression, his eyes locked on Wang Yunyao with venom, as if some deep grudge lay between them.
At his side, a spindly, reed-like man quickly chimed in. "Brother Bu speaks true. That Yunyao is nothing but luck. Yet she dared slight Brother Bu—truly intolerable! Even if she entered the inner sect, she'd never be worthy to look down on him."
The fat man, "Brother Bu," clearly enjoyed the flattery, his face swelling with smug delight.
At that moment, a quavering voice drifted into his ears.
"May I ask how I should address this young master?"
Brother Bu turned, scowling, only to see an elderly figure standing nearby. Hair snow-white, face wrinkled, aura frail—he looked ready for the grave.
"Trash Wang?"
Recognition flashed in Bu's eyes, followed by disdain. "What do you want, you useless old wreck? I've no time for the likes of you."
Wang Jianqiang ignored the venom, chuckling warmly. "You don't seem to think much of Wang Yunyao?"
"Isn't it obvious? Anyone with eyes can see it," Bu sneered.
Jianqiang shook his head gently. "On the contrary, I think she'll win."
"You know nothing, you waste." Bu burst into laughter. "If that slut wins, I'll eat filth!"
"Hahaha! You'll kill me with laughter," the reed-like man howled. "A useless wreck daring to pass judgment before my brother? If Yunyao wins, I'll join him in the feast!"
"How delightful." Jianqiang's eyes twinkled. "Shall we make it a wager, then?"
"Out of the way! You've no right to bet with me. What could you possibly—"
Brother Bu's rant cut off mid-curse. His eyes bulged, his words dying in his throat.
Beside him, the reed-like man froze as well.
Both of them stared, slack-jawed, at the gleaming pile at Jianqiang's feet.
A mountain of spirit stones.
Smiling serenely, Jianqiang spread his hands.
"One wager, then. If Wang Yunyao loses, this ten thousand spirit stones will be yours.
"But if she wins, I ask for nothing of your stones.
"Simply do as you yourselves declared—eat filth.
"So—do you wager, or do you not?"