Lei Yingjie raised a hand and tapped the floating formation diagram.

Thirty runes representing the formation eyes lit up in sequence, culminating in nine complex purple thunder patterns at the very apex of the schematic.

“The ‘Nine Heavenly Eyes’,” Lei Yingjie announced, his gaze sweeping over the crowd with a meaningful smile. “These nine nodes are the anchors. While this sector unleashes the most devastating Divine Thunder, those guarding it must also withstand the backlash of the Lightning Tribulation. Therefore, it is best suited for those with the ability to endure it.”

The crowd murmured.

This was a Top Grade Fourth-Tier Grand Formation. While its offensive power was immense, the pressure on the controllers was equally crushing.

Originally, this was an array designed for Nascent Soul cultivators. For Golden Core cultivators to drive it, the strain would be enormous.

As Lei Yingjie’s words settled, eyes naturally drifted toward the elite prodigies—Shen Xing, Qiu Ruoli, and the other sect leaders. In the eyes of the masses, only these “Proud Sons of Heaven” were qualified for such a burden.

Shen Xing stood with one hand behind his back, his expression calm. “Those with ability should bear more responsibility. It is only right.”

His words set the tone.

The other prodigies nodded in agreement.

After all, the distribution of the final spoils—the demon beast meat and the spirit herbs—was based on contribution. Occupying a Heavenly Position meant a larger share of the resources.

As prodigies, they had their pride. To shrink back now would only stain their reputations.

Just as the roster for the nine positions was about to be finalized, Lei Yingjie added a caveat.

“Among the Heavenly Positions, the ‘Zhen Position’ is the linchpin. It endures the most violent backlash from the Lightning Tribulation. Only a cultivator with truly exceptional strength can hold it.”

Silence fell over the clearing.

To face the attacks of a pseudo-Seventh-Order Demon Beast while simultaneously tanking the strongest backlash? The danger didn’t need to be explained. It was a death trap.

The crowd’s gaze shifted to Shen Xing.

Surely, only the number one prodigy of the Azure Province could survive such a post.

However…

Before Shen Xing could speak, Qiu Ruoli stepped forward.

The Holy Maiden of the Tianyao Sect lightly flicked her wide sleeves. A faint, almost imperceptible glint flashed in her eyes before vanishing behind her usual mask of icy aloofness.

“Since our Fellow Daoist from the Demonic Path possesses such extraordinary strength—daring even to slaughter disciples of my Tianyao Sect—I presume a mere Lightning Tribulation backlash would be nothing to him, right?”

Her voice was cold and clear, cutting through the silence. She looked directly at Shen Xian, her meaning unmistakable.

She was painting a target on his back.

The surrounding cultivators immediately caught on. Their expressions turned subtle, shifting from fear to calculation.

Right. He’s just an Evil Cultivator. If he dies, he dies. He’s the perfect fodder for the most dangerous spot.

Everyone here belonged to the Righteous Path. Their hostility toward Evil Cultivators was ingrained. If Shen Xian hadn’t displayed such terrifying combat power earlier, they wouldn’t have let him join at all.

Sneers began to appear.

“The Holy Maiden speaks reason,” someone muttered. “Demonic cultivators should naturally bear more risk.”

Lei Yingjie surveyed the scene, his smile widening. This was the optimal solution.

He turned to Shen Xian, his tone dripping with condescending charity. “Fellow Daoist, being able to fight side-by-side with us prodigies is a Fated Chance many would beg for.”

He emphasized the word prodigies, a subtle reminder to everyone present: He is filth. We are the elite.

The atmosphere grew tense.

Some crossed their arms and watched the show. Others openly gloated. A few were already calculating the benefits—if the Evil Cultivator died in the Zhen Position, it would save them the trouble of killing him later.

Qiu Ruoli watched silently, a trace of cold satisfaction in her eyes.

She had guessed correctly. Given his sensitive identity, she didn’t need to dirty her own hands. A gentle push was all it took for the mob to finish the job.

Lei Yingjie waved his hand. On the diagram, the rune for the Zhen Position flared with blinding purple light, accompanied by the faint roar of dragons.

“However…” Lei Yingjie paused, his voice laden with mock concern. “The Lightning Tribulation at the Zhen Position is volatile. If Fellow Daoist finds his strength lacking, do speak up in time. We wouldn’t want you to… perish.”

Before he could finish, someone in the crowd snorted.

Speak up? Who would save an Evil Cultivator?

Qiu Ruoli withdrew her gaze, indifferent. She knew he had no choice. With the majority against him, he would have to grit his teeth and march to his death.

And when that happens… I will personally send him on his way.

Hearing this, the corners of Shen Xian’s mouth slowly curled into a cold, dangerous smile.

His gaze sharpened like a blade, piercing straight toward Qiu Ruoli.

“Since the Holy Maiden is so concerned about the safety of the Zhen Position, why not guard it together with me?”

His voice wasn’t loud, yet it carried clearly to every ear in the clearing.

Qiu Ruoli’s pupils contracted. She hadn’t expected him to counterattack so aggressively.

Is he threatening me?

Before the thought could fully form, Shen Xian continued.

“Or… shall we have a duel? If you win, I will obediently take the Zhen Position. But if I win…”

He paused, a glint of chilling intent flashing in his eyes.

“Then I will ask the Holy Maiden to endure the suffering of the Lightning Tribulation on my behalf.”

The crowd erupted into an uproar.

Qiu Ruoli’s expression shifted.

Her injuries from the beast encounter hadn’t fully healed. If she fought him now, victory wasn’t guaranteed, and her condition would certainly deteriorate. If that happened, she would lose her chance at the Treasure Pavilion and the Ten-Thousand-Year Spirit Milk.

Faced with such a naked provocation, she chose silence.

Lei Yingjie frowned, annoyed. This Evil Cultivator is arrogant.

He opened his mouth to intervene, but Shen Xian had already turned the gun on him.

“What does Fellow Daoist Lei think?”

The tone was flat, yet it carried an undeniable weight of command.

Lei Yingjie’s face stiffened.

Damn this madman.

He couldn’t agree to a duel. The Grand Formation was ready to launch. If they started infighting now, the beast would sense it.

“Fellow Daoist jests,” Lei Yingjie forced a stiff smile. “The allocation of formation eyes is a matter of great importance. How can we treat it as a game?”

Shen Xian’s sneer deepened. “Oh? So the Holy Maiden’s suggestion was an immutable law, but mine is a joke?”

The atmosphere instantly turned brittle. Swords were practically drawn; bows were bent.

Qiu Ruoli clenched her fists, her nails digging deep into her palms.

A mere Evil Cultivator dares to be so insolent!

“If you disagree, then withdraw!” she snapped coldly.

The formation could function without him. She wanted to show him the weight of the situation—he needed them, not the other way around.

Does he really think he can bargain with us? Does he think the prodigies of the Righteous Path are pushovers?

“Oh?”

Shen Xian looked at her with a half-smile, utterly unconcerned.

“It seems you all feel that I, Wang, am unworthy to stand alongside you.”

He turned on his heel.

“Then Wang shall withdraw.”

He began to walk away.

Without this group, he could still enter the core on his own. Since they insisted on forcing him into a corner, he would happily take the role of the fisherman waiting in the shadows.

The crowd stunned.

The cultivators watching from the periphery immediately grew restless. If a spot opened up, it was their chance.

Lei Yingjie frowned, a bad feeling rising in his gut.

Why is he leaving so easily?

Shen Xian stopped after a few steps. He didn’t look back, but his voice drifted over his shoulder, loud enough for Lei Yingjie to hear.

“Speaking of which, I know a thing or two about Formations. For example…” He dragged the words out lazily. “The resonance node connecting the Third Heavenly Eye to the Seventh Earthly Eye… I wonder what would happen if it were subjected to a sudden, violent external shock right when the Lightning Tribulation reaches its peak?”

Lei Yingjie’s face drained of color.

“Silence!” he roared, panic lacing his voice.

Shen Xian stopped walking. He turned slowly, looking at the frantic wind cultivator with a mocking expression.

“Is Fellow Daoist Lei… ordering me?”

Though he was new to formations, the legacy of his clan elders gave him insight into the fundamental flaws of this sect’s Grand Formation.

He wanted them to know one thing:

Provoke me, and there will be no happy ending.

Lei Yingjie’s chest heaved violently, anger burning in his eyes. But he didn’t dare issue another command.

“Does Fellow Daoist intend to make an enemy of everyone here?” he asked, his voice icy.