The **Inner Sect Arena** was not built for sport. It was built for profit.
It was a coliseum floating on its own isolated island, suspended by four massive bronze chains. The roar of the crowd was so loud it shook the clouds. Here, Merit Points changed hands by the millions, and reputations were forged in blood.
Kaelen walked up to the registration desk. His tattered pants and bare, rune-etched chest drew stares, but mostly looks of disgust.
The clerk, a bored disciple with a monocle, didn't even look up.
"Name? Rank? Cultivation?"
"Kaelen. Unranked. Foundation Establishment Stage 2."
The clerk paused. He looked up, eyeing the tribal lightning tattoos and the massive slab wrapped in cloth on Kaelen's back.
"Stage 2? You're fresh meat," the clerk sneered. "Registration fee is 50 points. You'll be placed in the **Copper League** against other rookies."
"I don't want the Copper League," Kaelen said, dropping his stolen jade token onto the desk.
"I want the Gauntlet."
The clerk froze. The surrounding disciples went silent.
The **Gauntlet** was a suicide mode. You paid 500 points to enter. You fought continuously. No breaks. No healing. For every win, your points doubled. If you lost once, you lost everything.
"The Gauntlet is for experts," the clerk warned, his voice dropping. "The current record is seven wins. The last guy who tried it left in a bucket."
"I have 500 points," Kaelen tapped the token. "Register me."
The clerk shook his head. "It's your funeral. Sign here."
***
**The Arena Floor.**
The announcer's voice boomed across the stadium, amplified by a Wind Array.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! WE HAVE A DREAMER! A ROOKIE HAS ACTIVATED THE GAUNTLET!"
The crowd booed. They wanted to see elites, not a suicide run.
"ODDS ARE 20-TO-1 AGAINST HIM SURVIVING ROUND ONE! PLACE YOUR BETS!"
Kaelen stood in the center of the white stone ring. He unwrapped the **Nameless Slab**. The rusty iron looked pathetic compared to the glowing Spirit Weapons of the audience members.
The gate opposite him groaned open.
"ROUND ONE: THE IRON BULL!"
A massive man stepped out. He was seven feet tall, wearing heavy plate armor and wielding a war hammer the size of a tombstone.
**Cultivation: Foundation Establishment Stage 2 (Peak).**
The Bull laughed, his helmet amplifying the sound. "Little boy! Did you get lost? Leave your points and crawl away!"
He charged.
The ground shook with every step. The war hammer glowed yellow—Earth Qi. A heavy, crushing strike.
Kaelen didn't move. He didn't raise his slab.
"DODGE, YOU IDIOT!" someone screamed from the stands.
The hammer came down.
*BOOM.*
Dust exploded. The impact cracked the arena floor. The crowd cheered, expecting a pancake.
The dust cleared.
Kaelen was standing there.
He had caught the war hammer.
With one hand.
The Iron Bull's eyes bulged behind his helmet. "Impossible... that strike was 50,000 pounds of force..."
Kaelen looked at the hammer head resting in his palm. His **Titan's Ribcage** hummed, feeding strength into his arm.
"Heavy," Kaelen admitted.
He squeezed.
*CREAAAK.*
The solid steel head of the war hammer began to deform. Kaelen's fingers sank into the metal like it was dough.
"But slow."
Kaelen yanked the hammer, pulling the massive man off balance.
Then, he swung the **Nameless Slab**.
"**Fore!**"
*CLANG.*
The flat of the slab hit the Iron Bull in the chest. The plate armor crumpled instantly. The man was launched like a cannonball.
He flew across the arena, smashed through the stone wall on the far side, and disappeared into the clouds below.
Silence.
The announcer dropped his microphone.
Kaelen rested the slab on his shoulder. He looked up at the VIP box.
"Next."
***
**Round 5.**
The arena was no longer booing. They were screaming in a frenzy.
The floor was littered with bodies.
A sword master with broken arms.
A poison user who had been slapped unconscious.
A beast tamer whose tiger was currently hiding behind Kaelen, terrified.
Kaelen stood in the center. He wasn't even breathing hard.
"System," Kaelen muttered. "Points?"
> **[Gauntlet Streak: 5]**
> **[Current Winnings: 16,000 Points.]**
> **[Experience Gained: Moderate.]**
"Too slow," Kaelen frowned. "At this rate, it will take all day to buy entry to the Summit."
The announcer's voice was shaking now. "R-Round Six! The contender is unstoppable! Who will challenge him?"
The gate opened.
This time, the air changed.
Heat. Intense, blistering heat filled the stadium.
A young man walked out. He wore red robes embroidered with golden flames. He didn't carry a weapon. His hands were wreathed in white fire.
The crowd gasped.
"That's **Lie Feng**! Rank 88 on the Heaven Board!"
"Why is a Top 100 disciple fighting a rookie?"
"He wants the points! 16,000 is a fortune!"
Lie Feng stopped ten paces from Kaelen. He smiled, handsome and arrogant.
"You have some brute strength, barbarian," Lie Feng said, his voice smooth. "But in the Inner Sect, technique is king."
He snapped his fingers.
**Secret Art: Nine-Sun Flame.**
Nine orbs of white fire materialized around him. The temperature rose so high that the stone floor began to melt into slag.
"Surrender," Lie Feng commanded. "Or I will burn the flesh from your bones."
Kaelen looked at the fire.
He felt the **Thunder King Core** in his dantian vibrate.
He felt the **Frostfire** essence he stole from Sect Master Han hunger.
Kaelen smiled.
He dropped his slab.
*THUD.*
The crowd went wild. "He surrendered! He dropped his weapon!"
Lie Feng sneered. "Smart choice."
Kaelen walked forward, empty-handed.
"Who said I surrendered?" Kaelen's eyes swirled with blue and red light.
He opened his arms.
"I'm just making room for dinner."