The arena for this competition had only recently been completed. Even from a distance, it was impossible to miss. Massive stone platforms rose in layered tiers, reinforced with formation patterns etched deep into the walls.

  After all, earth attributed cultivators were also skilled construction workers, so making such a structure was not particularly hard for them. In fact, with the amount of damage each cultivator does to the surroundings, their construction skills were second to none.

  Similarly, because of the competition, the entire pathway leading to the arena was packed.

  Disciples streamed in from every direction, voices overlapping in excited chatter. Some were loudly discussing rankings, others reviewing techniques one last time, while many simply came to witness the spectacle.

  Ning and the others didn’t linger. After a bit of maneuvering through the crowd, they quickly found suitable seats.

  Not too far, where even subtle movements would be lost.

  Not too close, where the overall flow of the battle would be hard to grasp.

  As far as Ning was concerned, it was a choice spot.

  “This place is great,” Zhang Feng said with a satisfied nod. “Your choice is pretty good.”

  “It’s nothing worth mentioning,” Ning replied modestly. After all, finding the right seat was a skill he’d honed in his previous life; lecture halls had a way of teaching that lesson early.

  Lang Rulang sat down beside them without a word, arms crossed, her expression cold enough to chill the air. She stared straight ahead at the arena, her brows faintly knit.

  Ning glanced at her, then leaned slightly toward Zhang Feng. “Did something happen to her? She seems grumpier than usual.”

  Zhang Feng followed his gaze, then suddenly leaned in and whispered, sounding far too confident, “Obviously.”

  “Obviously?” Ning echoed.

  “She didn’t make the top ten prediction ranking,” Zhang Feng said with a solemn nod. “If I had to guess, that’s definitely why she’s mad.”

  Ning paused.

  “…You sure about that?”

  “Absolutely,” Zhang Feng replied without hesitation.

  Lang Rulang snorted.

  “Keep running your mouth,” she said coolly, eyes still fixed on the arena. “If we end up in the same arena, I’ll make sure you’re the first one I knock out.”

  Zhang Feng stiffened instantly. “H-Hey, I was just analyzing the situation! Strategically!”

  Ning leaned back slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching despite himself.

  As they settled in, he let his gaze wander across the field. The arena was massive, far larger than it appeared from the outside.

  With such a huge crowd, chatter was inevitable.

  “Did you see Qiu Han’s profile? Peak sixth stage already!”

  “They say Jin Su’s wolf is almost as strong as she is.”

  “Hey, did you hear? There’s a spiritual farmer ranked tenth.”

  That last comment made Zhang Feng choke.

  “…That’s you, right?” he whispered.

  Ning nodded calmly.

  Being placed tenth in the prediction rankings naturally made him one of the more talked-about contestants.

  Strangely enough, Ning felt more amused than annoyed. If anything, it only reinforced his impression.

  So I really am just a mob, he thought.

  After all, a true dark horse wouldn’t even appear on such a list.

  Someone like Xiao Fan, for instance, was completely unranked.

  As the murmurs continued, a subtle pressure swept across the stands. Conversations died down one by one. Someone who could exert such pressure was likely an elder. So, that meant the competition was about to begin.

  As expected, an old man stepped onto the central platform. He wore plain sect robes, yet the moment he appeared, the air itself seemed to steady.

  “I am Shu Jin,” the elder said calmly. “I will be presiding over this competition.”

  His gaze swept across the arena before he continued, his voice neither loud nor forceful, yet it carried effortlessly to every corner.

  “The Outer Sect Competition,” Shu Jin announced, “will now begin.”

  He paused, letting the words sink in.

  "The first round will follow a simple rule," he continued. "Ten participants per arena. A free-for-all. Only the final person standing may advance to the next round."

  A murmur rippled through the crowd, though most had already expected as much.

  “Second,” the elder added, his gaze sweeping across the seated disciples, “killing is strictly forbidden. Any disciple who deliberately takes a life will be immediately disqualified and punished according to sect law.

  “Of course, we will intervene the moment a situation becomes truly dangerous. Your jade tokens are also linked to the arena formations. Should you suffer a serious injury, the formation will automatically eject you. Still, do not rely on this alone. Remain vigilant at all times.”

  That, at least, eased some of the tension.

  Under normal circumstances, the arena served another purpose entirely, it was used for duels.

  Yes, duels.

  If two disciples harbored enmity or had grievances to settle, this was the place where they could fight openly under the sect’s supervision.

  Killing others was not permitted, though some young masters would occasionally ignore this rule and kill their opponents. After all, "accidental" deaths were a thing.

  So, with the elder here, at least one's life is secure.

  "Third," the elder said, his tone sharpening slightly, "disciples with secondary professions must abide by additional restrictions."

  Ning straightened slightly.

  This was one of the points he had been most concerned about. After all, certain secondary professions could be outright unfair in a format like this if left completely unrestricted.

  "Talisman makers may only use talismans they have personally crafted. Alchemists may only consume pills they refined themselves. Artifact refiners may only wield tools of their own making."

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  The elder raised a finger.

  "Furthermore, the number of such items will be limited. Do not think to overwhelm the arena through preparation alone."

  That caused a more noticeable reaction.

  Ning's thoughts moved quickly.

  This prevents wealthy disciples from stockpiling resources, he realized. And it forces secondary professions to demonstrate real skill, not just spending power.

  At the same time, it also protected ordinary cultivators from being buried under consumables.

  “Lastly,” the elder said, his gaze sweeping across the arena, “I expect you all to give it everything you have."

  With that, he swept his sleeve.

  "When your jade token lights up, step into the assigned arena immediately. Any delay will be treated as a forfeit."

  The elder stepped back.

  Light flared across the stands.

  One by one, jade tokens began to glow, each shining with a different hue as names were silently assigned.

  Ning glanced down at his own token, already turning over the implications of the rules, how much of his preparation he could safely reveal, how much he should hold back, how much he should push himself.

  His thoughts cut off abruptly.

  His jade token flashed brightly.

  Ning blinked once.

  “Well,” Zhang Feng said with a grin, clapping him on the shoulder, “looks like you’re lucky. First one from our association to go.”

  Lang Rulang glanced over, her expression cool as ever. “Don’t embarrass us.”

  Wei Zhusang gave a small nod. “Do your best.”

  There were other members who encouraged him as well.

  Ning rose to his feet.

  “So soon,” he murmured, his expression calm as he stepped forward.

  The first round had begun.

  ...

  High above the arena, on a raised viewing platform reserved for the sect’s upper ranks, two elders sat overlooking the battlefield below.

  One of them frowned slightly as he watched the disciples enter their respective arenas.

  “This year’s competition has caused quite a stir,” he said. “I’ve already received several complaints. Some of the older outer sect disciples are unhappy that they aren’t allowed to participate.”

  The elder beside him let out a soft chuckle.

  “That was inevitable,” Elder Hu Sheng replied calmly. “But this decision wasn’t made lightly. It was a direct order from the Purple Mansion elder.”

  Du Zhen raised an eyebrow. “So it really is confirmed?”

  Hu Sheng nodded. “Five years from now, the Flowing Light Secret Realm will open.”

  Du Zhen’s expression shifted slightly. “I see… so that’s the reason.”

  His gaze drifted back toward the arenas below, where groups of young disciples were entering as their jade tokens lit up one after another.

  “No wonder they restricted this competition to newcomers,” Du Zhen continued. “They’re preparing in advance.”

  “Exactly,” Hu Sheng said. “That secret realm has strict entry conditions, age under thirty, and cultivation no higher than Qi Condensation. Anyone who misses this window won’t get another chance.”

  Du Zhen laughed softly. “Then these youngsters are truly fortunate. Opportunities like that don’t come often.”

  “Fortunate, yes,” Hu Sheng agreed. “But fortune alone isn’t enough. It also depends on how we cultivate them.”

  The two elders fell silent for a moment, simply watching.

  “Luckily,” Du Zhen said after a pause, “this batch is among the best we’ve had in decades. Not only do we have Xiao Qing with her top-grade spiritual root, but there are also four high-grade ones. And the number of clan heirs admitted this year far surpasses previous generations.”

  Hu Sheng nodded. “True. The overall quality is impressive.”

  “Unfortunately,” Du Zhen added thoughtfully, “Xiao Qing stands far above the rest. Her strength is already visible.”

  “But that doesn’t mean the others lack potential,” Hu Sheng replied. “There are quite a few promising seedlings.”

  Du Zhen nodded slowly, eyes still on the arena below.

  “If even a third of them benefit from the secret realm,” he said, “the sect will reap enormous rewards.”

  Just then, a ripple of disturbance spread through the crowd below.

  Du Zhen narrowed his eyes. “Hm?”

  The arena formations dimmed rapidly.

  Shu Jin’s voice echoed faintly: “Winner, confirmed.”

  Du Zhen paused, then let out a low chuckle. “Already? It’s only been a few minutes.”

  Hu Sheng followed his gaze, his eyes sharpening slightly. “Interesting.”

  His gaze lingered on that arena for a brief moment before shifting away.

  “We’re not just looking for obvious talent,” Hu Sheng said quietly. “We’re looking for surprises.”

  He smiled faintly.

  “And it seems one has already appeared.”

  ...

  The light on Ning’s jade token faded as he stepped into the arena.

  Ten figures stood scattered across the stone platform.

  Ning’s gaze swept over them once.

  One at the fifth stage of Qi Condensation.

  Three at the fourth stage.

  Five at the third.

  No obvious monsters. No top-ranked contenders. And finally, no protagonist.

  'It seems my luck is not that bad.' Ning thought. After all, there were quite a few monsters in this competition.

  At the same time, several gazes locked onto him.

  It was obvious that the prediction rankings had circulated widely. As a result, Ning naturally became a point of focus.

  A fifth-stage cultivator with a secondary profession certificate, and ranked tenth in predictions, was hard to ignore. In a free-for-all, anyone who looked even slightly dangerous naturally became a target.

  Especially since the rankings didn’t just list names, they included brief descriptions. Enough for others to single out their targets at a glance.

  Ning was no exception.

  If anything, he stood out even more. Among the other contestants, he looked noticeably young.

  Whether it was due to the advanced state of his Jade Skin refinement or simply his natural features, Ning appeared barely fifteen years old.

  He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

  After all, at this stage, he looked more cute than handsome. And being handsome was a lifetime thing.

  'Alas, this must be the price for power.' Ning joked to himself, calming his nerves.

  The formation barrier sealed shut.

  A sharp chime rang out, and the battle began.

  Almost immediately, several contestants turned toward Ning.

  “Take him out first,” the only fifth-stage Qi Condensation cultivator said coldly. “Then we settle things among ourselves.”

  Several people nodded.

  Ning wasn’t surprised. Being ganged up on was the natural outcome of standing out.

  He didn’t retreat. Instead, he tapped his foot lightly and formed a seal.

  The moment spiritual fluctuations erupted across the arena, Ning activated his technique.

  Cold qi surged outward.

  [Hidden Ice Mist Technique: Great Accomplishment]

  Unlike before, the mist erupted instantly, faster and denser than any previous use. Pale white fog flooded the arena in a single breath, swallowing the ground, the combatants, and even sound itself.

  “What?! How did he cast that so fast?!”

  “I, I can’t see anything!”

  “Watch it! Someone just bumped into me!”

  Panic spread immediately.

  Visibility dropped to nothing. Even cultivators with sharpened senses found their perception distorted as cold qi interfered with detection. This mist wasn’t merely concealment, it disrupted orientation, muffled footsteps, and warped distance.

  Within the fog, Ning’s breathing remained slow and steady.

  He shifted into Turtle Breathing, further suppressing his presence.

  The moment he learned the rules, Ning had already formed a battle plan.

  A free-for-all was inherently chaotic. Since he would inevitably become a target, the first priority was simple:

  Change the battlefield in his favour.

  The Hidden Ice Mist Technique might seem useless at first glance, mostly used for farming or environmental control, but Ning had never chosen techniques blindly.

  The mist obscured vision, disrupted senses, and inflicted continuous frost damage the longer one remained inside it.

  Its main flaw was its long casting time at low proficiency.

  But now?

  At Great Accomplishment, Ning had optimized the spell specifically for speed. By linking it to a fixed gesture and seal, he could deploy it in seconds.

  The second flaw was more troublesome.

  The mist blinded everyone, including the caster.

  For most cultivators, that would be fatal.

  For Ning, while it was troublesome, he still had a way around it.

  [Spatial Awareness]

  The world reassembled itself in his mind, not through sight, but through pressure changes, vibrations, and movement. Simply put, he was trying to feel the changes in 'space'.

  A figure rushed blindly forward.

  Ning sidestepped.

  Thwip.

  An arrow flew.

  A muffled grunt followed, then the heavy sound of a body hitting stone.

  “One down.”

  Another cultivator shouted and unleashed a wide-area flame technique, hoping to burn the mist away.

  Fire roared.

  The fog thinned, just for a moment.

  Ning had already repositioned.

  Thwip.

  The arrow struck the man’s shoulder. His spell collapsed as he lost balance, tumbling to the ground.

  “Two.”

  Nearby, someone panicked and began swinging wildly, blade cutting empty air.

  Ning slipped past him, close enough to feel the heat of his qi.

  A precise strike to the back of the neck.

  The man collapsed instantly.

  “Three.”

  By now, the arena had fully descended into chaos.

  Some tried to retreat. Others crouched defensively. One cultivator suppressed his qi completely, attempting to hide.

  It didn’t matter.

  Ning’s arrows came one after another, clean, precise, and mercilessly efficient. He avoided vital points, striking joints, shoulders, and legs.

  A fourth fell.

  Then a fifth.

  Then two more in quick succession.

  After each takedown, Ning concealed his presence once more, melting back into the fog. He moved like a drifting shadow, his arrows never pausing, striking from unseen angles and shattering any attempt at coordination before it could form.

  “Wind Scythe!”

  The remaining fifth-stage cultivator roared, unleashing his full strength. Violent qi tore through the arena, forcing the mist back through sheer output.

  For a brief instant, the fog thinned.

  In that moment, the cultivator saw movement in the corner of his eyes.

  His pupils shrank as he raised his sword.

  Too late.

  Ning closed the distance in a burst, movement crisp and controlled. A single strike, driven by refined body strength, landed squarely in the abdomen.

  The air exploded from the man’s lungs.

  He flew backward, crashed into the barrier, and slid down unconscious.

  Silence fell, and the mist dissipated slowly.

  Ten figures had entered the arena.

  Only one remained standing.

  The elder’s voice echoed calmly.

  “Winner, Ji Ning.”

  ...

  Thanks for reading~