As Han Yu stepped down from the arena, leaving a defeated Lu Yun behind him, he had officially secured a spot among the top six Outer Disciples.

For Zhong Yue, Sun Kang, and Liu Lan—the friends who had cheered him on from the start—the reality of the moment felt dreamlike, bordering on surreal. They stood in a daze, their minds struggling to process the scene.

Top ten? Was their friend truly about to have his name inscribed on the ranking list?

Junior Brother Han… was actually this terrifying?

Nearby, Bai Lingyun, Meng Bao, and Li Xuan exchanged looks of utter disbelief. They were speechless.

“He was a Laborer Disciple promoted by exceptional order, just like us,” one of them thought, the bitterness of the gap between them tasting like ash. “So why is the difference between us like the distance between heaven and earth?”

On the viewing platform, the tournament proceedings continued.

Elder Yan summoned Lu Yun to the front of the stand. His voice was stern. “Junior Sister Wen has always been lenient with her disciples, but make no mistake—she places high hopes on you.”

Lu Yun hung his head.

“I will overlook your failure this time,” Elder Yan continued, “but do not disappoint her again. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” Lu Yun replied, his face burning with shame as he nodded solemnly.

“Good. Now, watch the remaining matches closely.” Elder Yan dismissed him and turned to Elder Lu beside him. “If Han Yu takes first place, should we promote him to the Inner Sect immediately?”

Elder Lu smiled faintly. “I’ll ask him when the time comes.”

He paused, stroking his beard in thought. “Strictly speaking, the number one Outer Disciple earns the right to enter. However, he is only at the fourth layer of Qi Refining. It would take him five years of hard labor to reach the seventh layer. Entering the Inner Sect now might do him more harm than good.”

“True,” Elder Yan agreed. “But regardless of his status, we must accelerate his cultivation. He’s already consumed a significant number of Qi Gathering Pills. If he takes a few more bottles, his body will build a resistance, and their efficacy will plummet.”

Elder Yan nodded slowly in agreement.

Han Yu’s rapid ascent to the fourth layer was largely thanks to the bottle of pills Elder Lu had gifted him earlier. The boy’s talent for spellcasting and combat was undeniable—exceptional, even. If the Sect could just pour enough resources into him to push his cultivation to Foundation Establishment, he would undoubtedly become the deadliest combatant among the Sect’s Deacons.

The initial round of six matches concluded. The losers moved to a secondary arena to scrap for rankings seven through ten.

The six victors, however, prepared for the next phase: the battle for the top three.

“Han Yu versus Zheng Shi!”

Han Yu stepped onto the stage. His opponent was Zheng Shi, the guard of the Ancestral Mausoleum. Zheng Shi was a man of few words, his presence solid and heavy. He was currently at the sixth layer of Qi Refining—he had been at the fifth, but after the Exceptional Promotion Order was canceled, he had forced a breakthrough to secure his standing.

The two men stood opposite each other, the air between them still.

Seeing that Zheng Shi had no intention of speaking, Han Yu broke the silence. “Senior Brother Zheng, shall we use external aids?”

“My cultivation base is higher than yours,” Zheng Shi replied flatly. “You should use them. I will not.”

Han Yu appreciated the man’s straightforward nature. “I am comfortable either way. Senior Brother Zheng, feel free to use them if you wish.”

Zheng Shi shook his head. He didn’t reach for his Storage Bag, nor did any defensive light flare around his body.

Respecting his opponent’s honor, Han Yu decided not to rely on the advantage of his massive crow or the flying sword. He would match Zheng Shi with pure spellcasting.

Zheng Shi’s technique was impressive, easily ranking among the best in the Outer Sect. He cast a protective spell and a Flame Technique almost simultaneously—one for defense, one for offense. His casting speed was only a fraction of a second slower than Han Yu’s.

Spells clashed in mid-air, lighting up the arena for several rounds.

Then, Han Yu shifted gears. He wove the Phantom Body Technique together with the Vision Confusing Technique, creating a disorienting blur of motion.

Zheng Shi’s eyes lost track of the real Han Yu for a heartbeat. By the time he refocused, a spell was already hovering inches from his face, humming with suppressed energy.

Zheng Shi froze. He stared at the magic suspended before him, then lowered his hands.

“I concede.”

With the top three determined, the losers of the semi-finals moved aside to fight for fourth, fifth, and sixth place.

The atmosphere around the main stage reached a boiling point. The next match would bring them one step closer to crowning the King of the Outer Sect.

Han Yu ascended the platform once more.

Looking down at the sea of eager faces, he recalled the scene at the Green Grain Market tavern, where crowds had gathered just to gossip about the ranking predictions. Back then, he had been an observer. Today, he was the main event, standing one step away from the summit.

Yet, looking at his opponent, he felt a flicker of absurdity.

Standing opposite him was not a man, but a literal ball of light.

This was no exaggeration. His opponent was wearing so many Magical Artifacts that their overlapping spiritual glows completely obscured his physical form.

Another Bai Lingyun?

As the thought crossed Han Yu’s mind, a shout erupted from the crowd. “Senior Brother Li! Show them the power of the Artifact Refining Department! Bring that first place title home!”

Han Yu understood immediately. Ah, a gear master.

Deacon Bai, serving as referee, looked at the glowing blob with a pained expression. “You people… do you want to use external aids?”

“More artifacts aren’t always better!” Deacon Bai chided. “If you fumble with the controls, you’ll only lose faster!”

From behind the wall of blinding light, Li Yibao’s voice emerged, sounding muffled but confident. “Junior Brother Han, I’ve watched your fights. Your spells are too sharp, too aggressive. I only have confidence in beating you if I use every tool at my disposal.”

The light shifted as Li Yibao gestured. “Are you willing to use external aids this time?”

Han Yu eyed the walking armory. “I don’t mind,” he said calmly. “However, I feel I should warn you. I happen to possess a Foundation Establishment-tier talisman. If I use it and accidentally shatter your entire collection… will the Artifact Refining Department hold me accountable?”

“Huh?”

Li Yibao’s glowing silhouette visibly jerked. “You have a Foundation Establishment item? How?”

“Curiosity,” Han Yu shrugged. “I exchanged some contribution points for it.”

“Never mind then!” Li Yibao shrieked, frantically deactivating his gear. “No external aids! Let’s compete with pure cultivation and spells!”

He hurriedly stripped off his artifacts, stuffing them into his Storage Bag with the care of a miser hoarding gold.

Deacon Bai rolled his eyes and announced the start.

Without his wall of gear, Li Yibao lasted only a few rounds before Han Yu swept him off the stage.

Shortly after, Li Yibao fought Feng Jin, a sixth-layer disciple from the Alchemy Room, and lost again. The artifact hoarder secured third place, leaving the final showdown to Han Yu and Feng Jin.

“Spirit Field Department, Han Yu. Versus Alchemy Room, Feng Jin.”

Deacon Bai’s voice boomed over the hushed crowd. “The winner takes first place. The loser takes second.”

He waved both disciples onto the stage. “Feng Jin has consumed a Clear Heart Qi Gathering Pill and several other enhancing elixirs prior to this match. Therefore, the ban on external aids is lifted for this round.”

He turned to Han Yu. “Han Yu, you have a choice. You may fight now, or you may wait until the medicinal efficacy fades from Feng Jin’s system before fighting without external aids.”

Han Yu didn’t hesitate. “Let’s do it now.”

“Very well. Begin!”

The moment the word left Deacon Bai’s lips, Feng Jin stomped the ground.

Boom!

He shot toward Han Yu like a fired arrow, his speed rivaling a movement spell. He had stacked multiple drug effects to mimic the explosive power of the Spirit Explosion Technique.

Han Yu instantly cast a protective spell, a shimmering barrier forming before him.

Feng Jin didn’t try to break it. His body twisted mid-charge with unnatural agility, swerving around the barrier to flank Han Yu. Simultaneously, he hurled a white pill.

The pill detonated in mid-air, erupting into a thick cloud of white, fragrant dust that swallowed Han Yu whole.

It was a relentless, flowing chain of attacks. Normally, Feng Jin lacked this kind of combat fluidity. But under the influence of the Clear Heart Qi Gathering Pill, his mind was hyper-lucid, allowing him to exploit every opening with ruthless efficiency.

Han Yu, engulfed in the strange fog, narrowed his eyes. The white dust obscured his vision, and he sensed the pressure mounting.

He’s pressing step by step. I can’t drag this out.

Han Yu made his move.

He imbued his flying sword with the Sharp Gold Technique. The blade hummed with cutting power as it pierced through the white smoke, seeking Feng Jin’s chest.

Thud.

Feng Jin reacted instantly, raising a brown wooden Magical Artifact to intercept the blade. The wood groaned under the impact, cracks spider-webbing across its surface.

Feng Jin ignored the damage to his shield. His right hand flashed, producing a long spear entwined with green vines—a mid-grade Magical Artifact.

He poured his Spirit Breath into the weapon. The spear glowed with lethal brilliance as he thrust it forward!

The vine-spear tore through the white dust, shattered Han Yu’s initial defenses, and struck true—

Clang!

The spear tip halted against a layer of translucent green light.

Han Yu’s Green Wood Protection Technique—embedded in his ring—had triggered automatically.

Feng Jin’s expression twisted in disbelief. Another defensive artifact?

This spear is a mid-grade artifact from the late Qi Refining stage! I begged an Inner Sect Senior Brother to lend it to me! I’m powering it with everything I have—how did it not punch through?!

Desperation clawed at his mind. I need to find another angle…

Suddenly, his left hand felt light.

Feng Jin looked down, horror dawning in his eyes.

Han Yu’s flying sword, enhanced by the Sharp Gold Technique, had finally sheared through the brown wooden shield. The defensive artifact shattered into useless splinters.

Defenseless.

At the same instant, a sharp whistling sound screamed from behind his head.

Deacon Bai moved.

With a blur of motion, the referee stepped between the combatants. He released two bursts of mana—one blocking the flying sword at Feng Jin’s chest, the other catching two wind blades spat by Han Yu’s giant crow at Feng Jin’s back.

Silence fell over the arena.

Deacon Bai lowered his hands and declared, his voice ringing out with finality:

“Han Yu wins!”

“The first place of the Outer Sect Grand Competition goes to Han Yu!”