Whoosh!

A brief, stunned silence blanketed the venue, thick and heavy, before shattering into a deafening roar of exclamations.

“The Sect Master?! It’s actually the Yunmiao Sect’s revered Sect Master!”

“Heavens! To lay eyes on the Sect Master’s true visage in this lifetime… I can die without regrets!”

“I heard she has been at the half-step Nascent Soul stage for years, seeking the slightest chance to break through. Did she exit seclusion specifically for this Grand Competition?”

High upon the viewing platform, Elder Wang Ya turned slightly. He glanced at the empty seat to the right of the Sect Master—a position symbolizing supreme honor—and asked softly, “Sect Master, regarding the Grand Elder…”

The Sect Master didn’t even deign to look at the arena. Her eyes swept over the empty seat, her tone flat and unreadable.

“Grand Master and Junior Martial Sister have departed for Penglai Immortal Island. They have matters to attend to.”

She shifted her cold gaze to Wang Ya. “I heard our sect has produced a fifth-grade Golden Core. Is it true? Where is she? Such a prodigious talent warrants a personal meeting.”

Elder Wang Ya felt a chill crawl down his spine. After a moment’s hesitation, he raised a hand, pointing vaguely toward the disciple seating area below.

“That is her. She is a disciple under Inspector Li Fuxi, named Lin Yinyin. Her aptitude is highly likely the legendary Heavenly Spirit Root.”

“Oh? A Heavenly Spirit Root? It seems she rivals Junior Martial Sister’s talent from back in the day.”

Following Wang Ya’s direction, the Sect Master’s gaze pierced through the distance, locking precisely onto Lin Yinyin.

The girl was huddled in the center of the Spirit Sword Peak group, protected by Li Fuxi. Her small face was paper-pale, her aura flickering and feeble.

At this sight, the temperature on the high platform plummeted. A layer of frost instantly coated the Sect Master’s aloof features.

“What is the meaning of this?!”

Her voice was not loud, yet it cut through the air like a blade. “Her aura is weak and chaotic, her foundation shaken. She has clearly suffered severe damage to her vitality!”

The Sect Master’s eyes sharpened into ice picks. “I see she cultivates our sect’s peerless Nine Turns Jade Condensation Sutra, yet why is there no trace of her Primordial Yin?”

The pressure radiating from her made the surrounding elders tremble.

“What have you all been doing? Allowing such a peerless jade to be defiled and shattered right under your noses?”

Even Elder Wang Ya felt his confidence crumble before the Sect Master’s fury. He braced himself, sweat beading on his forehead. “This matter is complicated. It involves—”

“Enough!” The Sect Master cut him off, her tone brooking no argument. “Immediately! Summon them to see me! Li Fuxi, and that disciple Lin Yinyin—bring them here at once!”

Wang Ya was about to speak when the air beside him rippled.

Su Ling materialized seemingly out of thin air, calmly taking a seat just below the Sect Master.

“The competition is currently underway, and Li Fuxi is due for the next final match,” Su Ling said, her voice indifferent and steady. “Whatever the matter, let’s discuss it after they finish fighting.”

Rage surged in the Sect Master’s eyes. Her icy glare settled on Su Ling’s impassive face.

Su Ling seemed oblivious to the hostility, her attention fixed solely on the arena below.

“Very well,” the Sect Master replied, her voice dropping to absolute zero. She finally turned her focus to the intense battle raging in the ring.

However, her eyes soon drifted to Zhang Xian. Scrutiny, mixed with a hint of something inscrutable, flickered in her gaze.

She snorted. “A False Core, yet he holds the upper hand against a Golden Core? Quite interesting.”

Down in the arena, the two combatants sensed the shift on the viewing platform almost simultaneously.

Nangong Yao glimpsed the Sect Master’s arrival and felt a tremor of awe, but she ruthlessly suppressed the distraction.

The threat of death from this bizarre opponent was far too immediate. She forcibly focused her mind, honing her sword energy to a razor’s edge.

Zhang Xian, however, felt his heart sink. He had keenly caught the Sect Master’s cold, evaluating stare.

The biggest variable in his plan had just walked through the door.

His most powerful killing move—his final trump card—was the detonation of a Spirit Treasure. He had planned to use its cataclysmic power to forcibly annihilate Nangong Yao, blaming the resulting death on the chaos of battle.

But that move was too blatant now.

Under the Sect Master’s personal supervision and the watchful eyes of thousands, using a Spirit Treasure self-detonation to “accidentally” kill a fellow disciple would look exactly like what it was: premeditated murder.

Even if he claimed “no regrets over life or death,” he would never leave the arena safely. Lin Yinyin and his master would be dragged into the abyss with him.

He couldn’t take that risk.

No! Unless I am absolutely desperate, I must not use it.

His eyes flashed like lightning, sweeping over Nangong Yao. Her aura was disordered, her defense crumbling. He forced himself to calm down, and a new plan instantly crystallized in his mind.

Meanwhile, the killing intent in Nangong Yao’s heart boiled over.

This lowly False Core cultivator had forced her to burn a life-preserving Ephemeral Artifact. Even her precious protective magical instrument now bore permanent cracks.

“He must die! At the very least, he must be crippled!”

Nangong Yao’s gaze turned venomous. She looked at Zhang Xian not as an opponent, but as a dead man walking.

Clang!

With a clear, melodious cry, her sword launched a new offensive under the Sect Master’s scrutiny.

This time, Nangong Yao had learned her lesson.

She abandoned direct confrontation, adopting a high-mobility hit-and-run style. She desperately avoided Zhang Xian’s metal and water puppets, controlling her flying sword remotely to bypass his defenses and strike at his main body from all angles.

The momentum in the arena shifted.

Zhang Xian was forced to divide his attention, using two puppets for defense while fending off Nangong Yao’s relentless barrage of remote attacks. The pressure on him spiked.

His movements became evasive. He looked hard-pressed, his offensive momentum stalling significantly.

On the viewing platform, the Sect Master watched the tactical shift with keen interest.

“This person is not simple,” she remarked flatly, her eyes fixed on Zhang Xian, completely ignoring her own disciple, Nangong Yao.

“He is merely at the False Core realm, yet he controls puppets to withstand a seventh-level Golden Core. And those items… are they actually Spirit Treasures? Elder Su, is he your disciple?”

Su Ling didn’t even turn her head. “No. Watch the match.”

Sect Master: “…”

She wanted to explode in anger. Unfortunately, within the Yunmiao Sect, this master-servant pair of Nascent Soul puppeteers were the only people she couldn’t afford to provoke.

“What is this youngster’s background?” The Sect Master turned her interrogation to Wang Ya.

Wang Ya hurriedly explained. “Reporting to the Sect Master, his name is Zhang Xian. According to our investigation, he hails from a wealthy, reclusive minor secret realm. He is the Young Master of his clan. They have deep dealings with the Cloud Raiment Pavilion and are a key partner.”

He paused, lowering his voice slightly. “That fifth-grade Golden Core, Lin Yinyin, had already consummated her marriage with Zhang Xian before entering the sect. Their bond is profound. They both joined Spirit Sword Peak under Li Fuxi.”

A flicker of calculation passed through the Sect Master’s eyes.

“Able to produce so many Spirit Treasures… it seems his clan background is indeed extraordinary. Since he is a Young Master, we must find an opportunity to establish contact with his elders.”

Her gaze then snapped back to the weak figure of Lin Yinyin in the stands. Her expression turned icy.

“As for this Lin Yinyin, she must sever ties with Zhang Xian immediately! A prodigious talent suffering such foundation-damaging harm for a man is utterly absurd!”

“I will personally handle the negotiations with their clan elders.”

The Sect Master paused, her tone becoming purely transactional, devoid of any warmth.

“Later, select a few female disciples of clean background—virgins, pure of heart—and send them to his quarters.”

She spoke as if arranging a shipment of goods, weighing talent against flesh to balance the ledger.

“Lest their clan thinks we lack propriety.”

Elder Wang Ya felt a sheen of cold sweat on his temples. He dared not utter a word.

He stole a glance at Su Ling, who continued to stare at the arena, her face unreadable, as if she hadn’t heard a single word.