The truth behind the prodigies’ sudden exit was simple.

Moments after the initial restriction shattered, the chosen elites of the major powers had launched themselves into the Spirit Medicine Garden like arrows from a bowstring. Their target was clear and unanimous: the priceless Heaven-rank spirit herb.

To ensure no accidents occurred, they had tacitly ordered their junior disciples to remain outside. It was an unspoken agreement among the elite: when competing for a treasure capable of altering one’s destiny, no interference was tolerated. They wanted no opportunists snatching the prize while they fought.

However, these “Proud Sons of Heaven,” accustomed to looking down on the world, had made a fatal miscalculation.

They severely underestimated the guardian of the herb.

It was a Sixth-Order Demon Beast.

In the cultivation world, the Sixth Order was equivalent to a human Nascent Soul cultivator. To a Golden Core cultivator, no matter how talented, such an entity was a towering mountain of despair.

Despite their overflowing talent and endless trump cards, the gap in absolute power was insurmountable. They had been routed, forced to retreat in defeat.

It was Lei Yingjie who, in a moment of inspiration, proposed a coalition. But such a plan required numbers, forcing them back to the entrance.

Now, Lei Yingjie stood before the mixed crowd of sect disciples and rogue cultivators, his purple robe snapping in the wind. A meaningful, almost predatory smile played on his lips.

His gaze swept over the gathered cultivators, lingering for a beat on the powerful rogue practitioners who were eyeing the entrance with hunger.

“Fellow Daoists,” Lei Yingjie began, his voice clear and laced with subtle seduction. “The Heaven-rank spirit herb is a divine treasure, true. But one needs a life to enjoy it. That beast inside is a Sixth-Order monstrosity. To fight it alone is no different from courting death.”

He sounded sincere, a concerned leader looking out for his peers. But deep in his eyes, a flicker of cold calculation remained hidden.

To kill a Nascent Soul-level beast, he needed bodies. He needed firepower. How he manipulated them during the fight… well, that was up to him.

A commotion rippled through the crowd. Most had no idea a monster of that caliber lurked inside. But seeing the disheveled state of the retreating prodigies, they didn’t doubt his words.

“I have a proposal.”

Lei Yingjie flicked his wrist, producing an ancient scroll from his sleeve. As he unfurled it, arcs of lightning crackled across the parchment, emitting a dangerous hum.

“This is the [Nine Heavens Thunder Tribulation Array]. It is a Fourth-Order grand formation that requires fifteen Golden Core cultivators to activate simultaneously. Once formed, it unleashes power sufficient to severely injure a Nascent Soul True Lord.”

The crowd’s eyes lit up.

They recognized the name. The Headmaster of the Wind Thunder Sect had once used the full version of this array to cripple a Soul Formation Grand Perfection Venerable. Even if this was a simplified version, its power was undeniable.

Against a Sixth-Order beast, it would be more than enough.

“And how will the loot be distributed?” a voice called out from the crowd.

It was the question on everyone’s mind. One herb. Fifteen people. The math didn’t work.

Lei Yingjie didn’t miss a beat. “The beast is likely at the late Nascent Soul stage. The rules are simple: the one who contributes the most takes the spirit herb. The rest will divide the Demon Beast’s carcass.”

He paused, letting the offer sink in. “A Nascent Soul beast that has bathed in the aura of a Heaven-rank herb for centuries… its flesh and blood are supreme medicines in their own right.”

The crowd fell silent, weighing the pros and cons. It wasn’t an unfair deal. The meat alone would be a massive harvest for any Golden Core cultivator.

Lei Yingjie’s gaze drifted over the other elites—Shen Xing, Qiu Ruoli, and the rest. “Of course, if anyone is unwilling, you may withdraw now.”

His tone shifted, dropping slightly in pitch. “But I’m afraid no one here is capable of slaying a late-stage Nascent Soul Great Demon alone.”

He knew exactly which buttons to push. These arrogant prodigies would never walk away from a Fated Chance.

Sure enough, despite the suspicion etched on their faces, no one left. The allure of a Heaven-rank herb—a treasure capable of helping them defy the heavens and change their fate—was too potent. With such a treasure, the path to the Void Refinement or even Body Integration Realm might open up.

Several rogue cultivators stepped forward, their eyes gleaming with greed.

Hook, line, and sinker, Lei Yingjie sneered internally. Perfect fodder for the array eyes.

In the crowd, Shen Xian rubbed his chin, deep in thought.

So, the treasure the Mysterious Turtle sensed is this Heaven-rank herb.

He hadn’t expected a late-stage Nascent Soul guardian. With his True Spirit Treasure and his Fourth-Order puppet, he could technically win a solo fight. But it would be messy, and doing so would leave him open to backstabbing from the “allies” waiting outside.

Better to blend in, Shen Xian decided. Let them serve as the vanguard. Let them weaken the beast.

He didn’t care about Lei Yingjie’s schemes. In this group, even if every single prodigy unleashed their trump cards at once, they were no match for him.

He would play the role of the oriole waiting behind the mantis.

“Count me in!”

An elder from a prominent Longevity Family stepped forward, his voice booming. He was a Golden Core Perfection cultivator, radiating power.

His move broke the dam. Hesitant cultivators began to shout, raising their hands.

Cultivation was a struggle. One fought with people, fought with the heavens. If they didn’t risk their lives for a chance like this, they would never ascend.

They knew Lei Yingjie had ulterior motives. They knew it was dangerous. But they all held onto that sliver of hope: What if I’m the lucky one?

The selection process was swift. Shen Xing and the other recognized elites were automatic inclusions. That left only ten spots for the rest.

Shen Xian stepped forward to join.

Lei Yingjie’s eyes narrowed slightly, then relaxed. He had heard from his junior brother about this “Evil Cultivator.” A man who dared to slap the Tianyao Sect in the face, breaking their array and slaughtering over a dozen Golden Core masters effortlessly.

Such ruthlessness and power were exactly what the array needed. Lei Yingjie nodded, approving him instantly.

The remaining spots were filled after a brief display of strength. Two candidates stood out in particular.

One was a man in white, a Talisman Master whose techniques were nothing short of superb. His spells were intricate, his cultivation method profound—even Lei Yingjie found himself nodding in appreciation.

The other was a black-robed old man. Though advanced in age, his combat experience was terrifying. He unleashed a dazzling array of attacks that overwhelmed his competition in seconds.

Finally, the fifteen Golden Core cultivators were assembled.

“Gentlemen,” Lei Yingjie lifted a purple-gold gourd to his lips, taking a long swig of spirit wine. He wiped his mouth, grinning. “From here on out, we must work together with one heart.”

The group remained noncommittal, their expressions guarded.

With the team formed, they turned and plunged back into the depths of the Spirit Medicine Garden.