The Great Revelation and the Realm of Mystery
The scene shifted.
Faded, dark clouds hovered over the sect grounds, stretching their shadows long on the stone paths. The atmosphere was saturated with tension, an unvoiced immediacy that hung in the air.
Outside, So Rong loomed tall at the core of the sect's command center, holding the sect's token in her steady hand. The symbol glowed beneath the brooding skies, pulsing softly as if reacting to her arrival. Her breathing was steady, but her heart thudded against her ribs. Her words ripped through the silence like a knife, a matter-of-fact sentence, which activated the communication array.
"Hangfang is alive."
It was as if a divine decree had been uttered, a soundless wave that echoed through the sect.
For a moment, there was silence. It was silence thick with disbelief, a moment when time itself appeared to stand still. And then — as if a tidal wave had broken free — an eruption of cheers tremored the sect's foundation.
There were shouts of joy, gasps of astonishment and even sounds of pure relief. The disciples who had been weighed down by grief now wrestled with the unspeakable reality. Their champion — the warrior they had grieved, their talisman of strength — had returned from the abyss.
As the jubilation was at its height, an ominous creak reverberated through the great hall. The great double doors, carved with images of ancient heroes, creaked as they swung slowly inward.
A figure stepped in.
A stunned silence fell over the room.
Hangfang stood before them.
His shape, scarred and imperfect, shined out the power of a warrior. There was a cold intensity to his stare, probing, but unyielding—like an unmoved mountain in a storm. Jitan's injuries had not healed, yet the strength of his stance was unbroken; a testimony to the endurance of his spirit that needed not be spoken.
His voice, resolute and steady, called before any niceties or explanation.
"We need to move. It's time for the next round to start."
There was no pausing, no opportunity for questions.
And without another word, he turned, his steps steady as he walked away, headed to the stadium.
All systems of the Colossal stadium.
What waited for them outside the sect's gates was no regular battlefield.
It was a Goliath, an architectural wonder that defied earthly construction. Lofty spires ascended to the sky, their gilded edges sparkling like angelic lances beneath the sun's blistering eye. The battlefield was bordered by massive pillars, each one carved with the names of warriors long deceased, whose stories of glory and failed attempts were whispered through inscribed legends.
The air hummed with an almost overwhelming intensity. The crowd roared, and a sound the magnitude of thunder crashed behind it, thousands of voices poured into one unending wave. It was more than noise — it was an electric force, a deafening wave of force that slammed down upon anyone who stepped inside.
All were cultivators, standing silent and prepared, their auras like embers about to flare.— They knew that this was not simple fighting, but a forge of lords.
So Rong drew a slow breath, her fingers curling tightly at her sides as she settled into a front-row seat. She sensed it — the weight of expectation, the stare of millions of spectators, watching and waiting.
Then, a shift.
A presence descended
Chang Ling Comes: The Force of Nature
One figure stepped forward, his movements like a flowing shadow but as commanding as a king.
Even the air he breathed became twisted, space itself quaking in the presence of his arrival. A stillness broke, a force that held the stadium down like air against a tempest.
It was suffocating and intoxicating at the same time. There wasn't just arrogance; there was dominance, the essence of a being who walked roads others couldn't envision.
His black hair was long, wild, and flailed with the breeze, as though it were made animate by an invisible volition. His eyes were bright as a pair of burning embers, piercing the crowd like darts at a carnival — most of those present could not meet his gaze.
Women in the stands held their chests, knowing their hearts were cheating on them. Men swallowed hard, instinctively knowing this was not a man to be trifled with.
Then, he spoke.
"I am Chang Ling."
The voice needed no volume, but it commanded attention It was smooth, calculated—each syllable clad in authority so stomping that even the most primal warriors held their breath.
"You have all moved on to the next level. But now, the hard part starts."
And for a moment, there was silence in the stadium, a stillnessboardered by anxiety. The air itself felt charged, another element on the verge of explosion.
Chang Ling's eyes scanned the opponents, faces creased with anxiety and excitement.
"Yes, this time we take the competition outside of these walls — into territory that hasn't been tapped for thousands of years."
He lifted his hand.
With the slightest flick of his fingers, the space behind him twisted and ripped. A jagged fissure opened, the infinite void beyond—a place of darkness, a depth beyond understanding.
It sent chills down the spines of many.
Chang Ling's hand lifted once more, and out of his palm, a small, nondescript black seed floated into sight.
"Inside, you are going to be hunting for two things —"
And with a flick of those fingers, more Danger-Dusk was materializing in his palm — a dimly glimmering, translucent seed, trembling with an aura immune to logic itself.
"The Black Seed. Essential for your survival."
His eyes gleamed.
"And this, the seed of an Immortal, over four millennia old."
His words were followed by a collective sharp inhale. Even among the greatest legends, something like that was a priceless artifact without reason.
Chang Ling raised the faintest smirk on her lips.
"There are only 100 Immortality Seeds. And there are 1,000 of you. Only people who get one will move on. You have two days."
The gravity of his declaration cloaked the contestants like an iron shroud.
Failure meant elimination. And with stakes like these — elimination meant oblivion.
For a heartbeat the world stopped.
Then—without warning—
The portal surged outward.
In the stadium swept a force unprecedented and unrelenting, a sacrificial wave consuming everything in its path.
In t
the blink of an eye and the opponents were taken, their shapes disappeared into the unrevealed.
The test had begun.
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