The morning sun spilled over the horizon, gilding the Qingling Sect's dueling ground in molten gold. The vast arena stretched in every direction — a sea of carved stone etched with runic patterns, surrounded by towering pillars adorned with banners of every sect and empire present.
Today, the air was sharper than steel.
The surviving participants from the knockout rounds stood shoulder to shoulder in the center, their shadows long and their gazes heavy with expectation. Elders, sect masters, emperors, and ministers filled the viewing platforms above, their robes billowing in the faint mountain breeze.
The massive crowd of spectators pressed closer to the stands, buzzing with excitement, their cheers muffled beneath the tension that had been building since dawn.
A deep thunderclap rolled through the arena.
High above, on the central viewing platform, Sect Master Lin rose from the Dragon Lightning Throne — an ornate seat forged from dragonbone and streaked with veins of gold lightning that hummed faintly with suppressed power. The hum stilled the crowd. Even the banners seemed to hang frozen in midair.
His gaze swept over the participants below. "You have endured the trials of the knockout rounds," his voice rang out, strong and clear. "But from this day onward, the tournament will change."
The murmur that followed was restless, uncertain.
"This will no longer be a battle of elimination alone," Sect Master Lin continued. "From today, your performance will be measured in points. Victory, technique, display of skill, and adherence to the rules will earn you points. The higher the points you hold at the end… the closer you stand to becoming champion."
An elder in dark-green robes from the Sea Cloud Kingdom folded his arms. "Points?" he muttered to his companion. "That means even a loss can still keep one in the running."
On the stage, Sect Master Lin let the whispers fade before his next words. "And to the champion," he paused, letting the silence stretch like a drawn bowstring, "will be granted a reward worthy of the title."
Every gaze sharpened.
"The Sacred Ancient Blood of a Divine Dragon," Lin's voice was like thunder over the mountains. "And along with it… a Level Four High-Tier Articraft — forged in the heart of the Azure Sky Furnace, its edge tested against the heavens themselves."
The arena erupted.
Even the composed elders and masters in the upper seats leaned forward. Some disciples gasped openly; others clenched their fists, their eyes wide with disbelief. The name alone — Divine Dragon Blood — was a legend.
"Divine Dragon Blood…" one young disciple from the Void Horizon Sect whispered, his voice trembling. "With just a drop, my cultivation could leap an entire realm!"
A burly Iron Vow Sect elder's knuckles went white around the armrest of his seat. "Level Four High-Tier… such treasures belong only in the vaults of the great sects. No… higher."
Sect Master Lin's words continued, unhurried, "The Sacred Ancient Blood holds within it a sliver of the essence of a being that once soared above the Nine Heavens. It can temper the body, refine the meridians, awaken latent attributes… even extend one's lifespan."
He let the weight of it settle.
"And as for the Level Four High-Tier Articraft… know this — low-tier artifacts have four levels, mid-tier another four, high-tier another four, and divine-tier… the final four. Sixteen levels in total. The Level Sixteen Divine Articraft can destroy a world. Today, I offer you one at Level Four of the High Tier."
Gasps rippled outward like a wave.
On the far side of the platform, Empress Feng Lanyi of the Crimson Jade Dynasty hid a thin smile behind her sleeve. So that's your bait, Lin… Let's see if your son survives to claim it.
Hei Yin of the Obsidian Bone Sect whispered to his adopted son Zuo Kuang, "Win it. And if you can't, make sure the boy from Qingling never drinks that blood."
The Black Mist Academy's shadowy representative Hei Mu remained still, his face hidden, but the air around him seemed to grow colder.
Lin Xuanye, standing among the Qingling disciples below, kept his expression calm, though inside, his spirit stirred at the mention of the dragon blood. Beside him, Su Feilí's gaze flickered — she could already feel the danger sharpening around them.
Sect Master Lin's voice rang out again, firm enough to steady the chaos. "Know this — this is not merely a test of cultivation. It is a measure of wisdom, adaptability, and control. The champion must be worthy, for the blood and blade are not meant for the reckless."
The banners above began to stir again, wind returning to the still air. The host elders began recording the list of remaining competitors and their point standings.
Below, in the crowd, alliances whispered. Plans were already shifting. Some eyes gleamed with greed; others with killing intent.
Xuanye knew, without looking, that this tournament had just become a battlefield far more dangerous than any duel.