The noise atop Dragon-Tiger Mountain suddenly fell silent.
Sunlight pierced through thin clouds, spilling onto the bluestone square. From the depths of the Taoist temple, a figure emerged at a leisurely pace. With a white beard reaching his chest and a clean green robe, it was Zhang Zhiwei, the current Celestial Master of Dragon-Tiger Mountain.
He did not release his pressure, yet the clamor on the field receded like a tide. The air seemed to stagnate, pressing down so hard people found it difficult to breathe. Countless gazes converged, ultimately turning into respect.
The Old Taoist Master walked to the center of the high platform. His aged but clear eyes swept over the crowd, looking at the vibrant juniors below. He couldn't help but reveal a gratified smile.
"You have all come from afar to this rustic wilderness. We have been poor hosts; I hope you can overlook it."
His voice was not loud, but every word entered the ears of everyone present with perfect clarity. The last trace of whispering in the field vanished.
"This session of the Grand Luo Heaven Sacrifice is a grand event for our Dragon-Tiger Mountain to select the next Celestial Master, and it is also an excellent opportunity for you fellow practitioners to compete and exchange ideas."
"Fists and feet have no eyes. I hope you young friends remember to stop when the point is made. Do not let a clash of tempers harm the harmony between fellow practitioners."
He spoke neither fast nor slow, his gaze drifting through the crowd. When his eyes landed on Zhang Chulan, he paused slightly.
Zhang Chulan felt a gentle thought brush past him, like a senior pressing down on his restless shoulder. His heart jolted, and he looked up, meeting the Old Taoist Master's eyes.
Immediately after, the Old Taoist Master's gaze turned toward the indifferent-looking Ian at Zhang Chulan's side. This time, even the onlookers noticed his gaze lingered for a moment longer.
The Old Taoist Master's brow twitched. His gaze tried to pierce through layers of fog to see Ian's depths, but he only sensed a patch of chaotic void—as if the man's existence itself was separated by an insurmountable barrier.
A flash of surprise crossed the Old Taoist Master's eyes before he returned to calm.
"The hour has arrived. The drawing ceremony begins."
Several Taoists brought forward the lot containers. The Old Taoist Master reached out to stir them, the bamboo lots clashing with a crisp sound. No one noticed that the moment his fingertips touched the bamboo, threads of Qi moved like spirit snakes, precisely adjusting the positions of a few specific lots.
After a moment, the Old Taoist Master withdrew his hand. A Taoist stepped forward to draw and announced loudly:
"Group One: Zhang Chulan!"
Zhang Chulan's heart skipped a beat.
"Hong Bin!" (Little Fire God of the Fire Virtue Sect)
"Hu Lin!"
"Wang Ergou!"
Hearing the last name, black lines appeared on Zhang Chulan's forehead. 'Was this name chosen that casually?!'
"Group Two..."
The drawing continued as whispers broke out below.
"Group Eight: Ian!"
The moment this name was called, many eyes turned toward him, filled with scrutiny.
"Xiao Xiao!"
A collective gasp echoed through the crowd. The name of "Snot-Gas" Xiao Xiao was quite famous among the younger generation.
"Huang Ming!"
Another name with considerable strength; this man was a Quanzhen Taoist whose skill in "Yang Spirit Projection" was quite profound.
"Sun Hao."
This name was relatively unfamiliar, and the crowd guessed he was likely an obscure small-fry.
The group results were settled, and the atmosphere below became subtle.
Xu San nudged Xu Si, who rolled his eyes. Zhuge Qing's narrowed eyes became even thinner as he tapped his fingers on his knee. Wang Ye let out a yawn, but his gaze drifted toward the Group Eight arena.
With the drawing finished, the contestants of each group headed to their designated areas.
Ian followed the guiding Taoist into the bluestone arena marked with the number "Eight." The arena was about the size of a basketball court, paved with smooth bluestone slabs and surrounded by a waist-high stone railing.
Xiao Xiao was the second to step into the arena. Dressed in a green outer coat, he had a tall, straight build. He tilted his chin up, his sharp eyes sweeping over Ian.
"You're that Ian? The one from the legends who killed the Four Madmen alone?"
His voice was filled with doubt, but he was secretly testing Ian's cultivation.
Huang Ming entered as well, wearing a blue-white Taoist robe and holding a horsetail whisk. His demeanor was steady as he stood in another corner of the arena.
Finally, there was Sun Hao, who looked ordinary and wore a nervous expression. The Qi surrounding his body was not as condensed as Xiao Xiao's or Huang Ming's.
"Rumors are just rumors in the end," Xiao Xiao said loudly, seemingly for the benefit of the onlookers.
"Perhaps it's just a front pushed out by the Company's behind-the-scenes operations." The corners of Xiao Xiao's mouth curled into a mocking arc.
"After all, even the older generation can't get the better of those on the level of the Four Madmen. How could someone from our younger generation solve it so easily?"
Ian remained with his hands in his pockets, turning a deaf ear to their discussion. His eyes weren't even focused on them.
Xiao Xiao and Huang Ming exchanged a look, reaching an instant consensus—take out Sun Hao first, then they would test Ian together.
Almost at the same time their eyes met, they moved!
Xiao Xiao's figure turned into a black shadow, lunging straight for Sun Hao. Huang Ming surged with Qi, creating an invisible wall of air to block all of Sun Hao's escape routes.
Sun Hao's face changed drastically as he hurriedly raised his Qi to defend. But his strength was already a notch below theirs; facing a sudden pincer attack from two experts, he had almost no power to fight back.
Two muffled thuds rang out in succession.
Xiao Xiao's fist slammed into Sun Hao's chest. Huang Ming's Qi followed immediately after like a heavy hammer.
Sun Hao spat out a mouthful of blood, his body flying backward. He crashed heavily against the railing and rolled to the ground, falling unconscious immediately.
The whole process was so fast it made heads spin.
Having cleared the "small fry," Xiao Xiao and Huang Ming focused all their attention on their remaining opponent in the arena—Ian.
However, what made their brows furrow was that Ian was still standing there. His posture hadn't changed, his expression hadn't changed, and there wasn't even a ripple in his eyes—it was as if he considered them to be nothing but air.
This naked disregard completely ignited Xiao Xiao's arrogant and irritable heart.
"Hey!" Xiao Xiao stepped forward, the ground trembling slightly as he stared at Ian and barked, "Who the hell do you think you're looking down on!"
Ian's eyelids didn't even flicker.
The muscles on Xiao Xiao's face twitched. His chest rose and fell violently, and his teeth were clenched tight.
The next moment, he inhaled sharply! His chest expanded as the surrounding air seemed to converge toward his mouth and nose. Immediately after, he tilted his head back slightly and blew a stream of invisible, intangible air from his mouth and nose that carried a terrifying soul-piercing force!
Snot-Gas!
Wherever this force passed, ripples of distortion appeared in the air, aimed directly at Ian's chest!
Seeing Xiao Xiao use his finishing move, Huang Ming's eyes flashed. He silently retreated half a step, swinging his horsetail whisk as the Yang Spirit power within him quietly circulated, ready for action.
However, a scene that exceeded everyone's expectations occurred.
Faced with this "Snot-Gas" that was enough to shatter the souls of ordinary outcasts, Ian remained standing there.
He didn't dodge, he didn't avoid, and he didn't even raise his hand to block.
He just stood there calmly.
He allowed that invisible force, which distorted the air and struck the soul, to slam solidly into his body!
Xiao Xiao's pupils shrank. His face was first filled with bewilderment, which was then replaced by satisfaction.
'Go ahead and be arrogant! Keep acting! Let your soul scatter for me!'
Weng—!
A strange vibration spread out.
The soul-tearing "Snot-Gas" hit the space in front of Ian as if striking an invisible, absolutely solid barrier.
The powerful impact couldn't shake Ian even an inch; it only kicked up a cloud of dust in front of him.
The dust rose like a curtain, instantly obscuring Ian's figure.
Xiao Xiao grinned savagely, staring intently at the dust. Huang Ming held his breath, focusing entirely on sensing any movement within the haze.
On the high platform, the Old Taoist Master slowly opened his eyes, casting a deep gaze toward this specific arena.
Across the top of Dragon-Tiger Mountain, countless eyes were focused here. Time seemed to freeze at this moment.
Everyone wanted to know the outcome of the battle.
Only Zhang Chulan and the others who were familiar with Ian's strength weren't worried at all. They didn't believe a mere Xiao Xiao could hurt Ian.