Chapter Sixty-Eight: The Grand Competition

Chu Feng and Xiao Yue both set down their wine cups, their gazes naturally settling on the man in white. Yet neither party spoke.

The man in white was undoubtedly Xiao Fan. At that moment, both Chu Feng and Xiao Yue felt a surge of surprise—they had not expected to encounter Xiao Fan and his companions again in this place. Sometimes, the world truly did feel remarkably small.

Of course, the ones most shocked were the nine who accompanied Xiao Fan. They could scarcely believe their eyes. Back then, Chu Feng and Xiao Yue had clearly fallen into the Xuan Yue Valley—a situation in which death was all but certain. Yet here they appeared before them, utterly unharmed. It was simply beyond belief.

Xiao Yue and Xiao Fan exchanged a brief glance. Then Xiao Yue rose to his feet, offering a faint smile. "Fifth Brother, it has been a long time."

To an outsider, these words would seem like nothing more than a polite greeting, but only Chu Feng, Xiao Fan, and the others present could detect the subtle note of irony within them.

Seeing Xiao Fan again, not only Xiao Yue but even Chu Feng felt a burning anger inside. Yet neither allowed it to show on their faces. They understood well that, being short of allies in their current circumstances, there was nothing they could do to Xiao Fan. Even if they wished to expose him, they possessed not a shred of evidence.

But they had no fear. Here in the Holy City, no matter how great Xiao Fan's abilities, he would not dare act against them.

At this point, Xiao Fan also smiled slightly. "Second Brother, it truly has been a long time."

"It's no easy thing to meet you again, Fifth Brother. Why not come join us for a hearty drink?" Xiao Yue said calmly.

Xiao Fan smiled again. "Thank you for your kind offer, Second Brother, but I have urgent matters to attend to and cannot keep you company today."

"Is that so?" Xiao Yue feigned disappointment before continuing, "Since you have pressing matters, by all means, Fifth Brother, go ahead. The days are long, and we will have plenty of time to gather in the future."

At these words, Xiao Fan's face twitched. He heard the provocation clearly enough—this was a threat, an invitation to a drawn-out contest.

Though he maintained his composure outwardly, Xiao Fan's heart was already in turmoil. He wished to say nothing more, and replied coolly, "I take my leave."

Without waiting for any further response, he turned abruptly and led his eight subordinates out of the Guest Pavilion.

After Xiao Fan departed, Chu Feng and Xiao Yue exchanged a smile, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction. They knew this encounter must have dealt a heavy blow to Xiao Fan.

Indeed, as soon as Xiao Fan left the Guest Pavilion, his expression changed dramatically. He was nearly driven mad with frustration. All his life, he had been calculating and composed; never before had he been so agitated, so shaken.

"Damn it! Why? Why is he still alive?" Xiao Fan muttered in a low voice. He longed to lift his head and howl at the sky, but forced himself to suppress the urge.

Xiao Yue's return made Xiao Fan feel threatened once more. After all, Xiao Yue's talent had always caused him deep unease. The odds of Xiao Yue ever recovering from the residual poison were slim—none in the entire Xiao clan could solve it—but who could guarantee that day would never come? That possibility gnawed at Xiao Fan's mind.

Moreover, now that Xiao Yue had survived Xuan Yue Valley, even recovery no longer seemed entirely impossible.

This reality was intolerable to Xiao Fan. He was nearly mad with hatred, desperate to eliminate Xiao Yue and end the threat once and for all. But this was the Holy City—he was powerless to act. If the Xiao clan ever learned the truth, his own death would be assured; he could forget all dreams of inheriting the clan.

With a final hateful glance at the Guest Pavilion, Xiao Fan left, still burning with unwillingness.

Within the Guest Pavilion, Chu Feng and Xiao Yue continued drinking. When Xu Yan and the others asked about the white-robed man, they merely replied that he was a friend, offering no further detail.

As they ate and drank, the conversation turned to the great competition of the Twentieth Battalion to be held in nine days. Of the six present, Chu Feng and Xu Yan would be participants, and everyone was brimming with confidence that Chu Feng would take the crown.

"Still, caution is warranted," Xiao Yue reminded them. "Though the Twentieth Battalion is the weakest of the new recruit battalions, it is still possible that a remarkable individual might emerge."

After the meal, the group returned to the Spirit Battle Pavilion; by then, it was late into the night.

The next morning, as always, Chu Feng rose early and made his way to the training room to begin his practice.

Nine days passed quickly, and for Chu Feng, those days were immensely fruitful. He had faced death repeatedly on missions outside, encountered strange events in Xuan Yue Valley, and his state of mind had undergone a complete transformation.

The disaster at Ancient Lin City had planted the seed of hatred in his heart—a hatred for the demon race he yearned to annihilate. Back then, his desire to kill demons was wholly driven by vengeance.

Yet after meeting Xiao Jin, that seed of hatred had faded and rotted away. Now, he could still fight demons, but not out of hatred—rather, for the sake of protection.

Through these experiences, Chu Feng's heart had been refined and elevated; his soul had been cleansed.

He was now more serene, peaceful, and detached than ever before. In every gesture, there was an unspoken air of elegance and transcendence.

In this state, his understanding of the "Way of the Sword" deepened; he seemed to be on the verge of comprehending a mysterious realm. Where once his spiritual perception could extend ten yards beyond his body, now it reached thirty.

With the same explosive power, his sword struck faster, and his swordsmanship grew even more ethereal.

The battle with the three fourth-rank Earth Spirit warriors had also given him profound insight. After several days of diligent practice, his swordsmanship had reached consummate perfection.

For Chu Feng now, there was no distinction between basic, intermediate, or advanced sword techniques. All techniques could be transformed; all were unified within him. He attacked with form, yet his mind was formless; every sword stroke was a peerless assault.

Another day ended, and a new day dawned—the day of the great competition for the Twentieth Battalion.

In fact, this competition was not held only in the Twentieth Battalion; the First through Nineteenth Battalions all had their own traditions of such contests, though not all on the same day.

The Twentieth Battalion's competition served as the beginning. Thereafter, the competitions would proceed in order from the Nineteenth to the First Battalion, culminating in the most spectacular events.

On the day of the competition, excitement filled the air. The entire new recruit camp was far larger than just the first twenty battalions and their hundred thousand recruits.

As new recruits were admitted once a year and cycled every three years, the camp also included Battalions Twenty-One through Sixty. It was simply that this year's intake happened to be assigned to Battalions One through Twenty.

From previous years, many had already advanced to the Four Great Battalions; those remaining had been merged or reassigned, leaving many battalions empty.

Yet the combined number of those remaining from prior years was still nearly equal to the number of new recruits this year.

For these individuals, the pressure was immense—especially for those nearing three years. If they failed to manifest a spirit attribute or achieve sufficient merit, they would be expelled from the Spirit Battle Pavilion.

Thus, most of these older recruits could rarely be seen; the majority were absorbed in relentless training. But on such a special day as the great competition, many would still come to watch.

Especially for the First and Second Battalions’ competitions, even members of the Four Great Battalions would come to observe. This period promised unprecedented spectacle for the new recruit camp.

The Feiyun Battle Arena had been specially constructed for large-scale competitions. The central dueling platform lay low, with spectator stands rising in tiers all around. It could easily accommodate two hundred thousand people.

The Twentieth Battalion’s competition was held here, as would be the subsequent competitions from the Nineteenth to the First Battalion.

At dawn, all five thousand new recruits of the Twentieth Battalion had already gathered at the Feiyun Battle Arena. In addition, some from the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Battalions had arrived, along with older recruits from previous years, bringing the total audience to seven or eight thousand.

The five thousand members of the Twentieth Battalion took their seats by squad. Chu Feng, naturally, sat with Squad Nine.

Only recently had Chu Feng learned the truth from Xiao Yue—the competition was not as informal as he had imagined.

Each of the fifty squads would have four members selected by their instructor to compete, totaling two hundred participants. Opponents would be determined by drawing lots, with five dueling platforms operating simultaneously. One day was ample time for the event—that same format applied to the other battalions’ competitions as well.

But this was not the most important detail. The key was that, regardless of which battalion's competition, all the chief instructors from the First to the Twentieth Battalions would attend—because the event was linked to the Sacred Trial.

Xiao Yue himself had not expected Chu Feng to progress so rapidly. Previously, though he thought highly of Chu Feng, he felt the Sacred Trial was far beyond his reach and thus had not mentioned it.

Recently, Xiao Yue had shared everything concerning it. Chu Feng, too, was filled with longing for the Sacred Trial. Xiao Yue explained that if one could win the approval of fifteen of the twenty chief instructors, they would qualify to participate in the Sacred Trial a year and a half hence.

Generally, after entering the Four Great Battalions, one would have frequent access to trials.

The so-called trials in the Spirit Battle Pavilion combined forging, barrier techniques, secret arts, combat techniques, and practical experience to create various opponents for the participants, allowing them to hone themselves through constant battle and grow stronger.

These trials were divided into nine levels, each requiring more points to enter. The higher the level, the more refined and powerful the opponents' combat techniques and secret arts would be.

In the Four Great Battalions, as long as one had enough points, they could enter the Nine-Level Trials at any time—each battalion had its own Trial Tower. But the Sacred Trial was different: even the Heaven Battalion did not have it, nor could its strongest members participate at will.

The Sacred Trial stood above all Nine-Level Trials, hailed as the most perfect and formidable trial of the Spirit Battle Pavilion.

The Sacred Trial Grounds opened only once every two years, drawing notable figures from the human race as spectators—even the elders would attend.