“And with that, the final round of the competition has come to an end,” the referee said and gestured for the two fighters to get off the stage. She glanced at the elders’ spectating area before turning her gaze onto the participants. Her gaze landed on Grandpa Vremya. “Now, will the disciple in first place use the special privilege?”

Grandpa Vremya jumped onto the stage, keeping his eyes closed. “Yes.”

The referee nodded. Never before had someone with a single foundational pillar exercise the privilege of challenging a core disciple. The winners of the competition usually had three or four foundational pillars created; occasionally, some would have cultivation bases even higher but never lower. Even if someone was a genius, could they really challenge people a whole major realm higher than them and win? Although the referee disliked Grandpa Vremya’s attitude, she couldn’t help but feel a tinge of respect for the man; after all, what he was doing was tantamount to suicide. “Will the gatekeeper please enter the arena.”

From the spectators’ seating area, there was a blur as a woman leapt onto the stage. Ruby harrumphed as she landed, and her sleeves swished as she drew her sword. “Do you remember me?” she asked, pointing her sword at the cultivating man.

Grandpa Vremya opened one eye. He stared at Ruby. Honestly, most humans looked the same to him similar to how most ants looked the same to humans. If he didn’t focus on someone and memorize their specific features, there was no way he’d be able to remember them. His memory was better used elsewhere. After examining Ruby, Grandpa Vremya shook his head and closed his eye. “No.”

Ruby’s expression darkened. “Ninety years ago, we were supposed to have a duel. When we both joined the sect, my master, Elder Formation, announced I would fight you in five years.”

A lightbulb lit up above Grandpa Vremya’s head. It wasn’t because of his memory that he didn’t recognize the woman. “Ninety years ago, you were no taller than a stone lion. Look at you now. How was I supposed to realize who you were?”

Ruby’s face froze. Grandpa Vremya did have a point. Since the man was isolated in the sect’s prison for the past nine decades, there really was no way he could predict how she’d look like after she grew up. “Well,” she said and coughed. “Do you remember me now?”

“Yes, of course,” Grandpa Vremya said. “When we both joined the sect, your master, Elder Formation, announced you would fight me in five years.”

In the spectators’ seating area, Azalea’s eye twitched. Whenever Grandpa Vremya repeated her words back to her, it meant he wasn’t listening. He used the excuse of he was busy cultivating, but it was still annoying as heck to talk to someone who wasn’t paying attention but pretended they were. Luckily, it seemed like Ruby hadn’t noticed.

“To prove that you made a poor choice when rejecting my master’s offer of becoming her disciple, I’ll crush you in front of the whole sect today,” Ruby said and flourished her sword, causing frost to dance around its blade.

“To prove that I made a poor choice when rejecting your master’s offer of becoming her disciple, you’ll crush me in front of the whole sect today,” Grandpa Vremya said, speaking with the same tone and inflection as Ruby.

A furrow appeared on Ruby’s brow. “Are you making fun of me?”

Grandpa Vremya frowned and waved his hand, summoning his golem from his interspacial necklace. The referee glanced at the two people before turning her gaze onto the elders. Rachel nodded, and the referee raised one hand. “Begin!” she shouted and backed up, leaving the stage.

Ruby dashed forward while tossing out blue flags. There were seven of them, and they flew up into the air, forming a circle. Faint lines of spiritual energy connected them, the end result resembling a seven-pointed star. A beam of light shone out of the star, landing on Ruby’s body, and her speed increased even further. As the disciple of Elder Formation, how could she not deploy formations during a fight? A second set of formation flags shot out of her robes, and an inverted seven-pointed star appeared, shining a ray of light down on the golem.

Elder Formation nodded upon seeing her disciple’s actions. However, her face turned stiff when a disk shot out of Grandpa Vremya’s abdomen. “Is that a manifestation?” she asked, unable to hold back her question.

Rachel’s eyes glinted. When nascent-soul cultivators fought, they would often manifest their nascent souls, summoning it out of their dantians. A nascent soul acted like a clone, and any technique the cultivator could use, the nascent soul could use as well. However, what good was it to manifest a single foundational pillar. Besides that, there was something strange about Grandpa Vremya’s pillar. It was wider than it was tall, extremely so. Instead of a mighty column, it looked like a frisbee.

The golden frisbee flew in an arc, ending up behind Ruby. Without warning, a huge suction force enveloped the stage. It was as if a whale had opened its mouth underwater, sucking in everything in front of it. Ruby, the formation flags, and even Grandpa Vremya’s golem were pulled towards the frisbee. The formation flags were disrupted, and the rays of light coming from the disjointed stars disappeared. Ruby frowned and planted her sword into the ground, stopping herself from being pulled backwards; however, the golem charged forwards and punched her in the stomach. Thanks to the suction force, the golem’s speed was greatly amplified, and Ruby didn’t have time to react.

Ruby grunted and flew backwards, her back slamming into Grandpa Vremya’s manifested foundational pillar. Grandpa Vremya flicked his finger, and the frisbee rose at an alarming rate, pulling Ruby up into the air along with it. The golem dug its fingers into the arena, keeping itself grounded. Once Grandpa Vremya determined the disk was high enough, he canceled his attraction technique, and the golden frisbee flew back into his abdomen. Ruby’s loud cursing drew the attention of the stunned elders, and Elder Formation’s expression darkened. A golden core cultivator was strong, but they couldn’t fly. If Ruby hit the ground from that height, if she didn’t die, she would be bedridden for at least a few months.

“This match is over,” the referee said and leapt into the air. A pair of icy winds manifested on the referee’s back, and she flew up to catch Ruby. The poor girl wasn’t terrified; rather, she was pissed. When she was placed back onto the stage by the referee, Ruby ground her teeth and jabbed a finger towards Grandpa Vremya.

“I could’ve died!”

Grandpa Vremya didn’t respond. Instead, he turned his head towards the referee with his eyes still closed.

“Victor, Vremya,” the referee said, her tone completely flat. She had said those exact same words at least ten times by now.

“What kind of technique was that?” a spectator asked. “How come I’ve never seen it in the skill pavilion? It looks impressive!”

“He actually won? How does that make any sense?”

“Ah, sister, at least you didn’t place any bets. I lost a hundred spirit stones just now.”

Azalea looked around. The usually cold faces of her peers were filled with expressions of surprise, amusement, and interest. All of their gazes were focused on the man standing on the stage. A bad feeling came over her, and she pursed her lips. A moment later, she snorted. Why did it matter to her if Grandpa Vremya was popular and attracting attention? It wasn’t like he was socially competent enough for it to matter with him being a blockhead and all.

Grandpa Vremya put away his golem walked off the stage, ignoring Ruby who was trying to get his attention. One of the participants in the seating area rose to her feet. “That was amazing, Senior Brother Vremya,” she said and cupped her hands towards him.

Grandpa Vremya ignored the girl and sat down in his seat, leaving her awkwardly standing in the greeting pose. A moment later, his eyes opened, and he stood up. Why did he sit down? The competition was over now. His gaze roamed over the spectators’ seating area, and he waved at Azalea.

Azalea blinked, and she straightened her back as all the gazes of her peers landed on her. There was a warm, fuzzy feeling in her chest, and she couldn’t help but wave back.

Grandpa Vremya tilted his head. What was the silly girl doing? Why was she waving at him? “I need my identity token.” Without it, how was he going to be promoted to core disciple?

The warm, fuzzy feeling in Azalea’s chest disappeared, and dark clouds adorned her face. Why was the man such a blockhead?