The atmosphere inside the arena was as vivacious as ever, but there was a particular individual who appeared cut off from the outside world. With his hands crossed and a meaningful frown dulling his face, he stared blankly towards the opposite stand, well aware that he was unable to influence the situation. Ultimately, all he could do was to let out a hefty snort from his nose.

Earlier, he had felt his heart throbbing as he observed a group of Spirit Realm Cultivators joining forces with the Palace’s elites, departing cheerfully towards the Crimson Abyss. The sight of these powerful experts was actually quite a spectacular show to watch, but for him it only added insult to the injury.

The Crimson Abyss was after all the main reason why he, the Grand Elder, was excited about this festival. But now both he and the rest had to suck it up and remain solemnly seated. With Chief Iran Hand observing their every move, he didn’t have much of a choice.

With nothing to distract his wandering mind, the Grand Elder instead spent most of his time worrying about the wellbeing of his disciples. He had naturally expected these worries to subside as time passed, but for some reason the opposite was happening. As he struggled against his racing thoughts, he would occasionally focus his vision towards the five talismans floating around the telepathic stone. All of them would flash back at him with swirling lights, indicating that everyone was still alive.

It was precisely at one of these moments that the unexpected happened.

The Grand Elder instantly rose up like a corpse. Sweat had already formed over his pallid face when he let out a sigh of relief, quickly replaced by a widening mouth that projected his glittering teeth.

The breaking of a talisman signalled to everyone that the first fatality had occurred, and it was precisely a disciple of the Desert Tribes who had the misfortune of doing the honours.

The arena immediately fell silent.

Chief Iron Hand didn’t allow his hatred to reveal itself as he cast two prolonged glances, one towards the Cult of Blood’s Elder, followed by another affixed onto the Empire’s Elder. He then closed his eyes. Even though this death was a direct affront towards the Desert Tribes, causing a scene because of this particular disciple was not worth it. If this useless kid couldn’t survive inside such a pitiful place, then he shouldn’t have been part of that group in the first place.

As for the other regions’ remaining elders, they expressed mixed feelings. They were somewhat happy for having one less competitor around, but also preoccupied that an 8th Qi Seeking Realm Cultivator had perished so early in the competition. Either the disciples of the prominent regions were causing trouble, or the realm wasn’t as safe as indicated to be.

The Palace Head produced a frown, not wanting the festivities to be dampened. He immediately signalled a nearby elder to summon the three conclave disciples. The Holy Daughter appeared surprised by his decision, her bodily movements clearly showing that she didn’t agree.

Usually, the Palace’s disciples would enter the realm after the competition would have ended. But this year’s chaotic competition meant that the Palace Head didn’t want to take any risks. But if things made a turn for the worst, he would be constrained to send internal reinforcements to control the situation.

He pressed his back against the seat, inwardly hoping that no other casualties occurred until the end of the competition.

***

Inside the Counterbalance Realm, a cultivator was flying unhindered over the desolate lands, his eyes dull and lifeless. However, not even an eagle could match his observational skills and nothing seemed capable of escaping his sight. Always travelling with his head facing parallel to the ground, he was unable to feel the wind blowing against his face because it was blocked by an annoying mask.

He subconsciously knew he was the strongest and had nothing to fear. Counterbalance Realm? Easy as taking a stroll on the beach. Cult of blood? He was more than ready for them. If they attacked –no, they would definitely attack–, he would welcome them with open arms. But he preferred if they were the first to make a move; reputation mattered to him.

During his unpredictable journey, he had already encountered some unfortunate beings. He would appear before them like a stroke of lightning, then remain to stare at them without producing the slightest sound.

The unlucky fellows would quiver, detesting the heavens for their ill lucks. They would quickly summon their gemstones, leave them down below, then flee without daring to look back, while also praying that this monster would not give them chase.

This tactic of his was actually quite successful, earning him a considerable amount of gemstones already.

Currently searching for his next victim, he suddenly forced himself to a halt. Not visible behind his mask, a broad smile began developing. “Finally... it begins...”

He didn’t even finish that sentence before five red pillars emerged from the ground, surrounding him. All of these were covered with endless metallic chains that were always on the move, continuously intertwining with each other. An opaque formation soon established itself, entrapping him inside a dome-shaped barrier.

The Masked Cultivator responded at this surprise attack by maddened laughter. He remained still, grinning from within the barrier while also trying to locate his aggressor, to no success.

With a sound similar to pouring water, his opponent’s face finally revealed herself on one of the pillars. He recognised her as the head disciple of the Cult, the red-haired cultivator that came second in the arena rankings.

“Here you are... I intentionally gave you ample time to spice things up, and this is the best tactic you could come up with? I am actually embarrassed in your stead!”

He shook his head with incredulity as he summoned a bronze coloured sword, which on first glance appeared nothing special. He then struck down towards the barrier, producing a small tear. Unfortunately for him, the formation repaired itself the same moment it was damaged, giving him no chance to escape.

The red-haired cultivator began merging her face back inside the formation. “My, my... the Empire’s cultivators surely lack proper etiquette...”

The masked cultivator frowned at this bizarre sorcery, his irises switching left and right, expecting the unexpected. He knew that this barrier was definitely created from a powerful heavenly scripture. He was also aware that he had underestimated this particular cultivator. Although he believed that it was impossible for him to lose, he began anticipating a much tougher fight than he had originally planned. And if the other two joined forces with her, things were going to get ugly.

“Hah? Hiding like a coward? Not gonna work.”

He immediately aimed his sword towards one of the pillars, waving a slash that seemed capable of crushing a block of steel. As per his expectations, the pillar couldn’t withstand this attack and immediately crumbled. The barrier then flickered, clearly losing a bit of its strength.

He continued laughing as the several chains encircling the four pillars seemed to become sentient. They started oscillating like snakes as they charged towards him, trying to bind him in position. He didn’t seem worried however as he rotated his sword, cutting down any chain that approached him with ease.

“Hey love, I admit that you are of the few women who qualify to warm my bed at night. But we need to do something about this bad temper of yours first eh.” His mocking words were partially interrupted by the bangs of severed chains dropping onto the ground.

He remained immobile waiting for his opponent’s next move. Seeing how she decided to stay concealed, the masked cultivator was about to target the next pillar. His eyes suddenly rounded. “Shit!”

The four pillars rapidly expanded on themselves, bursting out in a network of ear-splitting explosions that spread throughout the area. Several rocks were sent skyrocketing upwards, just for them to gravitate back downwards, generating a series of sharp sounds. The original barrier was utterly obliterated, instead replaced by four deep craters that intersected with each other.

Staring attentively at the cloud of dust, the red-haired cultivator stood on the nearby ground, rubbing the blood that oozed from her mouth. Soon, she heard a soft moan.

The masked cultivator had emerged from the cloud, his annoyed eyes flashing brightly through the holes of his mask, which now had two long cracks crossing over it.

She mocked him. “Your body is still in one piece? You definitely deserve to be chained on my bed for a day.” Her smile widened. “Everything will depend on that face of yours though, I have my own standards.”

The masked cultivator clenched his fists. He had completely misunderstood the barrier. It was not created to seal him inside, but to detonate itself up. Not daring to take it easily any longer, he raised his sword, pointing it up. The power of an 11th Qi Seeking Realm Cultivator enshrouded his body, the winds of the area seemingly becoming under his control.

“Everything and everyone will tremble before the might of The Empire! 3rd Art: The Great Throne.”

With a flash of incandescent lights, a celestial throne began materialising just behind him. Several crystals seemed to be protruding from within the throne, rising up for several metres. These crystals depicted images of several creatures, including dragons, tigers, monkeys and snakes.

The lands rumbled and the air seemed to turn heavy as the masked cultivator sat comfortably on the hovering throne, like a god looking down over his opponent. His voice became slightly lower-pitched.

“I don’t know what you were thinking by starting a fight against me. Even in the Empire, there is nobody around my age who can stand up against me. What makes you think that you can beat me? I haven’t even used half of my strength.”

As he finished his speech, he summoned his index finger and pointed it towards his enemy.

The red-haired cultivator immediately felt suppression of her powers. Her will seemed to have been cut off, her motivation to continue this fight evaporated away like a droplet of water in a desert. With her face drenched in sweat, she fell on one knee, struggling for breath. She couldn’t stop her muscles from cramping as she bit her tongue, trying to regain clarity from pain.

With difficulty, she managed to summon a heavenly scripture. Her eyes unyielding, she began proclaiming a particular art. She coughed out a lot of blood as soon as she finished, clearly taking a heavy backslash for using the scroll. She fell flat on the ground, almost unconscious.

The masked cultivator frowned, his mask slowly changing colour to red. When he raised his head upwards, he observed a burning globe of blood rushing down towards him.

He quickly rose up standing on the throne, a tempest of winds encircling his body. His eyes flashed with hatred as he slashed his sword towards the approaching sphere. The attack was so strong that it ripped the air in two, creating a visible vacuum in between.

The Sphere shattered on impact. However, it didn’t dissolve. Instead, it detonated, generating an even bigger explosion than the one created by the earlier barrier. The masked cultivator let out a roar of despair as his body was engulfed by the resulting burning inferno.

Barely holding against the fury of the elements, the red-haired cultivator managed to rest her back against a rock, her body healing at a hurried pace. She then licked her dried up lips with satisfaction, pleased by the magnitude of the resulting attack. The Spirit Realm heavenly scripture provided by her mother surely hadn’t disappointed her.

From her location, she carefully observed the lonely throne falling apart piece by piece. She couldn’t find any trace of the masked cultivator, but she knew he was still alive. This monster appeared even stronger than her initial estimations, but she wanted to continue this fight regardless.

She slowly stood up, pressing her fingers against a set of daggers as she patiently waited for him to resurface again.

With the warming up session finally over, she eagerly awaited the start of the real battle.