"The time has come," Ye Ming said as he stood up, spiritual dust falling from his heavy gray robes.

  Ling Huo rose with a surge of energy that cracked the pavilion floor. Her face was no longer flushed with wild anger, but deathly pale with eyes flashing orange—a sign that she had condensed her fire into a core point. "I’ve been waiting for this moment to shut Yan Fenghuang’s mouth."

  The three of them stepped out of the pavilion, greeted by Zhu Yanghai and the elders whose faces looked as hard as granite. There were no words of encouragement; at this level of competition, words were merely passing winds. They immediately took flight, cleaving through the clouds toward the main arena which had now shifted its form.

  In the center of the vast Square of Holy Light, a floating stone stage hovered over a swirling crater of energy. And there, hanging from black chains made of Nine-Heaven Meteorite Iron, stood the executioner: the Heavenly Night Rain Bell.

  The bell was as tall as three men, its surface a dull, ancient bronze, covered in carvings of weeping and laughing faces—representations of the human emotions it would prey upon. No light emanated from it, yet its mere presence warped the space around it, creating a dizzying blur.

  On the other side of the arena, Mu Chen’s group from Yao Gu and Yan Fenghuang’s from Feng Mie were already waiting. Yan Fenghuang appeared remarkably calm, his fingers playing with small sparks of fire, while his Heavenly Eye immediately locked onto the figure of Zhi Xuan as he landed.

  "Just in time, Silver Wolf," Yan Fenghuang’s voice boomed, triggering ripples of fire in the air. "I almost thought you were so terrified you couldn't stand straight."

  Zhi Xuan did not reply. He merely handed Mei Hua to Hua Lian Xi—a silent gesture to guard his only treasure. He then stepped forward, standing at the forefront of the Xing Luo group, staring straight at the giant bell.

  On the other side, Sage Qing Xuan sat alongside a Holy Woman of Yao Gu, positioned majestically upon thrones resting atop bright clouds. High-level cultivators from across the Yao Gu Plains flocked to the scene, having heard that the first stage was complete and the second was about to begin.

  "Look, it's Mu Chen and Gu Tao! They will surely carve history again just as the ancestors did of old!"

  "Exactly! How could any other Plain possibly compete with us, who are blessed by the Heavens? Yao Gu has always been the Sacred Plain; victory is in our hands!"

  "Wait, who is that silver-haired man at the front? I've never seen him before. Is he an envoy from the Xing Luo Plains?"

  The cheers quickly shifted their focus from the Bell to the figure of Zhi Xuan, who stood tall, looking like a pillar intended to pierce the very sky of Yao Gu.

  "Not just an ordinary envoy," remarked an old cultivator standing on a rooftop, stroking his thin beard with narrowed, inquisitive eyes. "The aura he carries... it feels like a sword that has been buried in a tomb for a thousand years. Cold, rusted by death, yet still sharp enough to cleave the soul."

  "Senior, is his aura not one step away from Soul Transformation?" whispered a young cultivator stable in the Soul Transformation realm, his eyes narrowing at Zhi Xuan's Half-Step Soul Transformation aura. "Look at his left hand, wrapped in blue cloth. Is he hiding something?"

  "Hey, don't speak so loudly," replied the stout, bald cultivator beside him. "There are rumors that his body is half-Devil!"

  "Half-devil?" the young cultivator gasped, his eyes reflecting pure disgust and hatred. "How is that possible? Where did you get that information?"

  "Talking about devils in front of the Night Rain Bell is a disgusting irony!" interjected a middle-aged woman in lotus sect attire, looking down at the arena with disdain. "If he truly is half-devil, the bell won't give him emotional tremors; it will deliver a divine punishment that will burn him into a pile of black ash in a single strike!"

  "He does not look easy," the old cultivator added, his voice raspy but cautious. "Look, even the Ancient Zhu and Ancient Hua Clans act as pillars behind those envoys. Anyone who threatens them will surely face the wrath of those Ancient Clans."

  "Ancient Clans siding with such a demonic aura?" muttered an elder from a minor Yao Gu sect, his lips curling in mockery. "Only in Xing Luo could something so shameful happen. They are so desperate for dignity that they’re willing to pick up trash from the abyss of emptiness."

  Suddenly, the sky trembled faintly as a rift in the void opened, radiating a majestic light. From it emerged a row of oppressive cultivators; their robes were the color of the deep sea, and their auras carried the bloodline of an Ancient Clan.

  "The Ancient Han Clan! They have arrived!"

  "Even the Han Clan has come to see this competition? Watch what happens when they encounter the Hua and Zhu Clans!"

  The presence of the Ancient Han Clan cleaving through the Yao Gu horizon was like an iceberg falling into a calm ocean, creating waves of spiritual pressure that made thousands of cultivators below hold their breath.

  Their sea-blue robes billowed, carrying an aura possessed only by bloodline rulers who had stood tall for thousands of autumns. At the very front stood a youth with a sturdy frame and eyes that held the depths of the darkest ocean trenches. This was Han Shanshan, the Holy Son of the Ancient Han Clan, bringing with him a cold intent that seemed capable of freezing the flow of energy around the Square of Holy Light.

  "Hua Tianming, Zhu Yanghai... it has been a long time since I last saw you," Han Shanshan’s voice boomed—not loud, but containing a vibration that rattled the mental stability of lower-level practitioners.

  Zhu Yanghai narrowed his eyes, his hand instinctively clenching, while Hua Tianming stepped forward with a defiant smirk. "Han Shanshan, long time no see. Did you come just to watch Xing Luo dominate this time?"

  Han Shanshan laughed lowly, a sound like waves crashing against sharp reefs. He landed on a jade platform specially provided for rulers, followed by a line of clan elders radiating unshakable authority.

  "Dominate?" Han Shanshan glanced at Zhi Xuan with a cool yet piercing gaze. "Xing Luo has always been good at dreaming. I came here only to ensure the Night Rain Bell doesn't crack from the vibration of your nonsense."

  Hearing this, the Yao Gu cultivators filling the square cheered boisterously. "Look! Holy Son Han doesn't even view them as a threat! Yao Gu’s dignity remains as high as the heavens!"

  "The Han Clan is truly showing themselves," whispered a sword sect cultivator. "The battle between the Bell and their Dao Hearts will surely be a grand spectacle."

  Hua Tianming snorted, his eyes flashing gold as his spiritual essence began to heat up. "Keep your arrogance, Han Shanshan. The last time we exchanged moves, you needed to go into seclusion to heal the wounds I gave you. Don't let today be the day you go home carrying the shattered pieces of your pride at the hands of my juniors."

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  "Your junior?" Han Shanshan shifted his gaze entirely to Zhi Xuan, ignoring Hua Tianming’s provocation. His eyes narrowed, trying to pierce the gray veil surrounding the silver-haired youth. "This youth... he is not part of your great clans. He smells like a burial ground forced back to life."

  Zhi Xuan, who had remained as still as an ice statue in a storm, slowly lifted his face. His sapphire eyes, deep as an abyss, met Han Shanshan’s gaze. There was no fear, nor was there respect; there was only an emptiness that seemed to swallow all forms of authority emitted by the Han Holy Son.

  Before Zhi Xuan could utter a word, a stream of sacred leaves appeared from the opposite direction, carrying an aura as thick as falling leaves against a starry sky. The streams condensed to form silhouettes in green robes with embroidery symbolizing nature.

  "The Sacred Heavenly Leaf Pavilion! They have come too!"

  "This competition is truly magnificent if even the high rulers are attending!"

  The presence of the elders and disciples from the Sacred Heavenly Leaf Pavilion made the atmosphere in the Square of Holy Light even more sacred, as if the universe itself had just granted its blessing. The scent of pine forests and earth damp with morning dew spread, neutralizing all forms of tension.

  Amidst the crowd of green robes appeared an old woman with hair neatly tied with an ancient agarwood hairpin. Although her face was lined with the wrinkles of wisdom, her back remained as straight as an unwavering cedar tree in a storm.

  "The Three Ancient Clans... it is truly an honor to see the faces of the Holy Sons and Holy Daughters," the woman’s voice was calm, yet carried a weight of equality—not bowing in respect, but an acknowledgment that they were equal to the Ancient Clans.

  "Justice for Heaven and Earth; it is an honor to meet the Grand Elder of the Sacred Heavenly Leaf Pavilion," Sage Qing Xuan replied from his cloud throne, nodding respectfully. This faction served as a balance between the fire and ice brought by the ancient clans.

  The surrounding cultivators whispered with increasing intensity. "Even Elder Qing He of the Heavenly Leaf has descended from the mountain! It is said she is a practitioner of the Natural Dao who has nearly touched the Saint Path realm!"

  Han Shanshan, though known for his arrogance, slightly bowed his head as a mark of formal respect to the elder. "Elder Qing He, it seems the scent of the Night Rain Bell this time was strong enough to draw you out of your sacred tree meditation."

  Hua Tianming, Zhu Yanghai, and Hua Lian Xi followed suit, bowing gracefully. Zhu Yanghai was the first to speak with a calm greeting. "Elder Qing He, my father sent a message: if the heavens permit our meeting today, it is destiny. This Holy Son offers greetings on behalf of my father."

  "Greetings from Patriarch Zhu Tian Sheng are like dew to my old heart, Holy Son Zhu," Elder Qing He replied with a thin, secret-filled smile. Her emerald-clear eyes now shifted, sweeping toward the arena where the Heavenly Night Rain Bell hung silently.

  Elder Qing He’s emerald gaze stopped exactly on Zhi Xuan. For a moment, the atmosphere in the square seemed to freeze, colder than the ice brought by the Han Clan. The elder did not see a youth; she saw a crack in the natural law—something that shouldn't exist, yet stood tall challenging the sun.

  "A Dao Heart so vast and cold," Elder Qing He murmured, her voice fine but clearly heard by those with high cultivation. "So much karma is tangled upon this envoy's shoulders."

  Zhi Xuan, feeling himself the subject of discussion, immediately clasped his hands and bowed slightly. "This Zhi offers greetings to Elder Qing He. I have heard of the majesty of the Sacred Heavenly Leaf Pavilion before, standing equal to the Ancient Clans. Today, it feels like a vivid dream to meet the Elder."

  Elder Qing He nodded slowly, her clear eyes seemingly able to dissect every strand of essence within Zhi Xuan’s body. "Dreams or reality are often merely boundaries created by mortal minds, youth. You carry a Dao Heart I haven't seen from a Xing Luo envoy in hundreds of years."

  Zhi Xuan lifted his gaze, straightened his body, and nodded slowly. "Elder Qing He praises me too much; I have come here to exchange Dao with the Yao Gu geniuses."

  "Exchange Dao?" Han Shanshan interrupted with a laugh that sounded more like cracking ice on a polar peak. He glanced cynically at the Xing Luo line before fixing his gaze back on Zhi Xuan. "Perhaps you chose the wrong words, youth. The Night Rain Bell is not a place for an exchange of thoughts, but a sacrificial altar for the arrogant. You speak as if you’re going to give a lecture to that relic."

  "Holy Son Han is correct," added an elder from a Yao Gu sect, his voice loud enough to be heard across the square. "The last time a Xing Luo envoy touched this bell, it took him ten years to reconnect his shattered soul meridians. 'Exchange Dao'? That is just a polite term for self-destruction!"

  Mocking cheers erupted again from the hundreds of Yao Gu practitioners. They felt they held the upper hand with Han Shanshan and Elder Qing He on their side. "Take back your words, Silver Youth! Do not soil our sacred altar with your stupidity!"

  Zhi Xuan remained unmoved, but he moved his hand, and from behind his back, a Five Element Disk emerged—a common sight for cultivators in the Five Element realm. However, the disk did not stop there; behind it appeared large circles, each forming a resonance of the Four Seasonal Laws.

  "Yao Gu is filled with geniuses born carrying Heavenly Laws," Zhi Xuan said calmly, his voice creating a spiritual vibration that swept the square with the tremor of the five-element disk. "However, with this Dao that carries the cycle of the universe, this Zhi will not retreat just because Yao Gu is blessed by the Heavens."

  The presence of the five-element disk layered with the Four Seasons resonance circles behind Zhi Xuan’s back instantly silenced the mocking laughter. The air in the Square of Holy Light suddenly became heavy, as if the weight of all the mountains in the world had been condensed into a single point.

  "The Four Seasonal Laws! How can this be?"

  "No cultivator has ever walked the Path of the Seasons. How did a Xing Luo envoy comprehend it?"

  "Not just that—it looks like a seed of Reincarnation has solidified! Look, even the surrounding aura seems to follow his will!"

  "The Cycle of the Four Seasons..." Elder Qing He murmured, her clear eyes now flashing with a deeper emerald light. "It is not merely borrowing the power of nature; he has entered the very core of seasonal change. How can a practitioner below the Soul Transformation realm lock down a cycle law that dense?"

  The elders of the major factions looked at each other with sour expressions. The overflowing arrogance was replaced by a suppressed anxiety. They saw how the fire elements around the arena seemed to freeze when faced with Zhi Xuan’s Winter aura, then slowly turned lush green under the influence of the Spring aura from his disk.

  "Just a bluff!" shouted a core disciple from the Yao Gu Sword Sect, trying to break the oppressive silence. "Manifesting laws is one thing, but withstanding the backlash of the Night Rain Bell is impossible for an imperfect body!"

  Han Shanshan narrowed his eyes, his once-calm ocean-like aura beginning to churn, radiating a coldness that tried to contest Zhi Xuan’s aura. "Interesting. Very interesting. You truly dare to show your fangs before the rulers of Yao Gu, youth."

  Mu Chen stepped forward, his face hardening as he saw the attention of the great figures poured onto Zhi Xuan. "Zhi Xuan, put away your law disk. Before the bell, you will realize that the more you grasp, the more it hurts when everything is forcibly snatched away."

  Zhi Xuan’s statement, so bold against the Heavens, was like a bolt of lightning from a clear sky, cleaving the silence of the Square of Holy Light with the dread of every word. To the Yao Gu practitioners who worshipped order and Heavenly blessings, those words were not just arrogance, but an insult to the divine order.

  "Impudent! He dares to speak of toppling the Heavens!" an elder from the Rising Sun Sect stood up, his face crimson, his beard trembling with rage. "Someone with such rebellious intent should not be allowed to touch the Sacred Altar!"

  "Right! This is no longer an exchange of Dao; this is defiance!" added another, though their voices were soon drowned out by Han Shanshan’s cold laughter.

  "Topple the Heavens?" Han Shanshan glanced at Zhi Xuan as if looking at an insect trying to stop an emperor’s carriage. "Even for a Holy Son like me, those words sound like the ravings of a madman who has lost his senses. Who do you think you are? An ant thinking it can shake a mountain just because it has a little venom in its fangs?"

  Han Shanshan flicked his blue robe sleeve, releasing a wave of ocean essence that slammed frontally into Zhi Xuan’s aura. "The Night Rain Bell will be your funeral before you even see the foot of the Heavens, little wanderer."

  Sage Qing Xuan, sitting on his cloud throne, furrowed his brow. He turned to the Holy Woman of Yao Gu beside him, who had remained silent behind her thin veil. "What do you think, sister? This youth carries an immense weight of karma, yet he possesses a courage that transcends mortal logic."

  The Holy Woman did not answer immediately. Her clear eyes seemed to pierce the clashing ripples of energy in the arena. "Courage and madness often wear the same face, Sage. But look at his eyes. There is no flash of anger as he is insulted. He is simply... empty. Someone who has nothing to lose is the most terrifying enemy for any law."

  Below, Yan Fenghuang walked slowly around the floating stone stage, his Heavenly Eye pulsing wildly as he observed the energy interaction on Zhi Xuan’s back. "The Four Seasons Disk... truly a greedy Dao. You wish to master the entire cycle of time within a single mortal frame? Zhi Xuan, you truly make me want to see what your destruction looks like."