Lu Chen and Wang Meng sprinted through the forest at full speed.
The shot from the Demon-Breaking Rifle moments earlier had caused far too much commotion—it was certain to draw other contestants. Although Bai Yunsheng had withdrawn for now, given his temperament, he would never let the matter rest. At the very least, he would rally his fellow disciples or lay an ambush in the shadows.
"Which way?" Wang Meng asked as he ran.
"Into the mountains." Lu Chen glanced at the map on his tactical terminal. "The terrain is complex—better concealment, and ideal for counter-ambushes."
They altered course and headed north toward the mountain range.
Along the way, they encountered several groups of contestants: lone rogue cultivators, as well as small squads of three to five. Most remained wary, detouring as soon as they spotted the pair, unwilling to invite unnecessary trouble. A few, however, confident in their strength, tried their luck at "harvesting some points."
The outcome was predictable.
Lu Chen refrained from using the Demon-Breaking Rifle—it was his trump card, not to be exposed lightly. Instead, he relied on the Demon-Slaying Blade in tandem with his energy pistol, supported by Wang Meng's close-combat pressure. Their coordination was seamless, and several overconfident challengers were swiftly dealt with.
Their points climbed steadily. Lu Chen rose to eighth place; Wang Meng broke into the top twenty.
An hour later, they reached the foot of the mountains.
The terrain here was even more treacherous: jagged rocks, steep slopes, sheer cliffs, and numerous natural caves. Thick mist lingered in the air, reducing visibility to less than fifty meters.
"This place…" Wang Meng crouched behind a massive boulder, scanning their surroundings. "Perfect for guerrilla tactics—but just as easy to get ambushed."
Lu Chen nodded and deployed the micro-drone from his tactical terminal.
The drone ascended and began scanning for heat signatures and energy fluctuations.
Within moments, over a dozen red markers appeared on the screen, scattered throughout the mountains. Two were alarmingly close—less than a hundred meters away.
"An ambush," Lu Chen murmured.
Almost simultaneously, the air tore with sharp whistles.
Three crossbow bolts shot in from the left; two grenades arced in from the right.
"Split!" Lu Chen barked.
They dove in opposite directions.
Boom! Boom!
The grenades detonated, sending shards of stone flying.
The bolts embedded themselves in the boulder they had just used as cover, their shafts still trembling.
From the smoke, four figures emerged.
Two men, two women—uniformly dressed in gray combat attire, a single character embroidered on their chests: Yun. Disciples of Qingyun Temple.
"Quick reactions," said the leader, a man in his early thirties, Level 34, gripping a composite crossbow. "But it won't save you. Senior Brother Bai gave the order—kill Lin Xiao on sight."
The other three spread out in a fan, closing in.
"Wang Meng, how many can you handle?" Lu Chen asked calmly.
"Two," Wang Meng flexed his wrists. "Any more and it gets rough."
"Good. Left two are yours. Right two are mine."
"Careful—they work well together."
Before the words finished, the four Qingyun disciples moved as one.
They formed into pairs, assembling rudimentary sword formations as they attacked.
Lu Chen faced the crossbowman and a swordswoman. Their coordination was flawless—ranged harassment paired with close-range assault, one far and one near, a troublesome combination.
But Lu Chen's battle-hardened experience eclipsed theirs.
He deliberately exposed an opening, allowing the swordswoman's blade to thrust toward his left flank.
She took the bait, striking with full force.
At the instant the blade was about to pierce flesh, Lu Chen twisted his body in an uncanny arc. The sword skimmed past his robes. His left hand clamped onto her wrist, wrenching it viciously, while his right hand swept the Demon-Slaying Blade toward her neck.
"Sister, watch out!" the crossbowman shouted, loosing three arrows in rapid succession.
Lu Chen neither dodged nor retreated. He took two arrows head-on—the bolts punched through his tactical suit and buried themselves in flesh, missing vital points. The price he paid bought the instant he needed.
The Demon-Slaying Blade took her head cleanly off.
White light flashed—one eliminated.
"You're dead!" the man roared, discarding his crossbow and charging with a short sword.
By then, Lu Chen had already ripped the arrows from his body. Under the effects of the Azurewood Art, the wounds closed rapidly.
"Your turn," he said coolly.
Steel met steel.
The man's swordplay was refined, clearly the product of systematic training. Lu Chen's blade, however, was merciless—direct, ruthless, a killing art distilled from countless life-and-death struggles.
Ten exchanges later, the man was run through the chest.
Eliminated.
On the other side, Wang Meng finished off the remaining two—injured, but not seriously.
The four clusters of points were absorbed. Lu Chen's score jumped to forty-five, his ranking climbing to fifth. Wang Meng rose to fifteenth.
"Qingyun Temple won't let this go," Wang Meng said as he treated a cut on his arm. "Bai Yunsheng will come personally."
"I know." Lu Chen looked deeper into the mountains. "That's why we need a defensible position."
They pressed onward.
Along the way, they encountered more opponents—rogue cultivators, disciples of minor sects, even a young martial artist from the Association. Upon recognizing Lu Chen, the latter wisely handed over his points and withdrew.
Lu Chen let him go.
Half an hour later, they found the perfect hideout: a natural cave halfway up the mountain. The entrance was narrow, allowing only one person through at a time, yet the interior was spacious—over thirty square meters. Elevated and commanding a clear view, it was easy to defend and hard to assault.
"This is it," Lu Chen said. "We'll take turns on watch. You rest first—I'll take the initial shift."
Wang Meng nodded and retreated into the cave, regulating his breathing to recover.
Lu Chen sat at the entrance, pulling up the battlefield overview on his tactical terminal.
More than two hundred contestants remained. Half the allotted time had passed; an hour and a half remained before the preliminary round ended. On the leaderboard, Bai Yunsheng dominated first place with eighty-five points. Second was Huo Wu of the Blazing Flame Sect with seventy-two. Third, Ying Qi of the Ghost Shadow Sect with sixty-eight. Lu Chen sat fifth at forty-five.
Among the top twenty, the military claimed four slots, the Association three, hidden sects five—the rest divided among major families and independents.
The competition was brutal.
Yet Lu Chen noticed something telling: the point disparity. Bai Yunsheng led second place by thirteen points, while twentieth place held only twenty-five.
The elite few were harvesting points relentlessly.
"They're clearing the field," Wang Meng said quietly, having returned to the entrance. He pointed at several red markers on the map. "Look—Bai Yunsheng, Huo Wu, Ying Qi, and that military guy, Lei Hu. They're all converging on the central zone. Open terrain—perfect for a decisive clash. They want to herd everyone there and wipe them out."
"Smart," Lu Chen said. "But bad for us."
"So what do we do? Go or not?"
After a brief pause, Lu Chen replied, "We go—but not directly. We'll find some… assistance."
"Assistance?"
Lu Chen highlighted several scattered red dots on the map. "Small groups lingering on the outskirts. Weak, but numerous. We draw them to the center and create chaos. Muddy waters make for easier fishing."
"And how do we lure them?"
"With points." Lu Chen's eyes gleamed. "In this battlefield, points are the ultimate bait. We'll spread word of a 'point treasure' in the central zone—defeat the guardian beast for massive rewards. Then we provide some 'evidence.'"
He accessed the environment-editing permissions on the tactical terminal—a limited military privilege allowing localized illusions and traps.
On an open patch in the central zone, Lu Chen created an illusion: the corpse of a Level 40 beast, surrounded by dozens of glowing point orbs, convincingly real.
"You think that'll fool people?" Wang Meng asked skeptically.
"Some," Lu Chen replied. "And that's enough. Once a few rush over, it triggers a chain reaction. Nobody wants to arrive late and miss out."
He opened the public broadcast channel—rarely used, as it exposed one's position.
Using a voice modulator, Lu Chen announced:
"Attention all contestants. A 'point treasure' has been discovered in the central zone—coordinates X:235, Y:178. Defeating the guardian beast yields massive points. Repeat—point treasure discovered in the central zone…"
He broadcast it three times, then shut the channel.
"Let's move," he said. "We'll circle around and approach from the flank."
They left the cave and headed toward the center.
Along the way, they saw numerous contestants rushing in the same direction—solo fighters and teams alike, faces taut with urgency.
"That was vicious," Wang Meng chuckled. "Truly devious."
"All's fair in war," Lu Chen replied.
Twenty minutes later, they reached the edge of the central zone.
A vast grassland stretched before them, a small lake at its heart. Over a hundred contestants had already gathered, divided into tense factions.
Bai Yunsheng stood on the eastern shore with over a dozen Qingyun disciples behind him.
Huo Wu occupied the south, surrounded by seven or eight from the Blazing Flame Sect.
Ying Qi lurked to the west, Ghost Shadow Sect disciples hidden in the darkness.
To the north were the military forces—Lei Hu leading over twenty soldiers, disciplined and arrayed in formation.
Others—rogues and minor sect members—hovered around the periphery, daring not approach the giants.
At the lake's center, on a small island, stood Lu Chen's illusion—the beast corpse and glowing orbs.
Truth no longer mattered.
The tension was palpable.
"Bai Yunsheng, planning to monopolize everything?" Huo Wu sneered, resting her saber on her shoulder. "Not afraid of choking on it?"
"Fortune favors the fated," Bai Yunsheng replied coolly. "Whoever wants it may come and take it."
"Save the sanctimony," Ying Qi's voice drifted from the shadows. "Qingyun Temple schemes best of all. That 'treasure' might well be your trap."
"And if it is?" Bai Yunsheng admitted calmly. "Here, my word is law. Those who disagree may test it."
Arrogant—but none dared refute him.
Then a voice rang out from the outskirts.
"Oh? You say you decide?"
All heads turned.
A young man in a black trench coat strode in. Twenty-seven or twenty-eight, sharp features, eyes like blades. He carried an absurdly massive greatsword—wider than a door panel, weighing at least two hundred kilograms.
"It's Tyrant Sword Zhao Wujie!" someone gasped. "Wasn't he in seclusion? Why is he competing?"
Zhao Wujie, a renowned rogue cultivator of Eastern China, Level 35, famed for overwhelming strength—rumored to cleave tanks in half.
"Bai Yunsheng," Zhao Wujie said, resting the sword on his shoulder. "Heard you're Qingyun Temple's strongest of this generation. Coincidentally, I'm the strongest among the independents. Care to test that?"
Bai Yunsheng narrowed his eyes. "You're not my match."
"We'll see."
Zhao Wujie struck without further words.
The greatsword fell like a collapsing mountain, wind screaming in its wake.
Bai Yunsheng sidestepped, countering with a lightning-fast thrust.
They clashed.
Raw power versus exquisite technique—neither yielding.
The others withdrew, clearing space.
"They're fighting," Wang Meng whispered. "Should we—"
"Not yet." Lu Chen watched intently from behind a boulder. "Let them wear each other down. Watch Huo Wu and Ying Qi—they're waiting for an opening."
As expected, neither Huo Wu nor Ying Qi moved.
Lei Hu held his position as well.
Everyone waited.
The battle reached a fever pitch.
Zhao Wujie's every strike gouged trenches into the earth, but Bai Yunsheng's swordplay was too agile, always evading direct blows and countering from impossible angles.
After fifty exchanges, Zhao Wujie began to falter.
His strength was immense, but the expenditure was equally great. Bai Yunsheng, conserving energy, held the advantage.
"You've lost," Bai Yunsheng said, piercing Zhao Wujie's shoulder. "Yield. I won't kill you."
"Spit!" Zhao Wujie snarled, blood spraying. "I don't know the word 'yield'!"
With a roar, his muscles bulged, aura surging—he had activated a technique that burned potential.
"Then don't blame me," Bai Yunsheng said coldly, his sword turning lethal.
Three strikes.
The first pierced Zhao Wujie's right arm—the greatsword fell.
The second impaled his left leg, forcing him to his knees.
The third… went straight for the throat.
At that instant, a crimson saber arc slashed in.
Clang!
Sparks exploded as steel collided.
Huo Wu had intervened.
"Enough, Bai Yunsheng," she said, standing before Zhao Wujie. "He's lost. No need to finish him."
"Huo Wu," Bai Yunsheng said icily, sheathing his blade. "You'd shield him?"
"I just despise your hypocrisy." She grinned. "Care to spar with me instead?"
Tension spiked again.
Then—suddenly—everything changed.
The illusion on the island vanished.
In its place emerged a genuine behemoth.
A colossal black-scaled python, over twenty meters long, burst from the lake, rearing up as crimson eyes swept over the crowd.
[Warning: Earth-tier Beast Detected — Blackwater Mystic Python][Level: 40 (Juvenile)][Description: Apex deep-water predator; immense strength, extreme defense, capable of exhaling corrosive venomous mist][Threat Level: High]
Stunned silence.
Wasn't there supposed to be treasure?
Bai Yunsheng reacted instantly, scanning the area. "Who's responsible?!"
No answer.
Lu Chen knew it wasn't him—his illusions capped at Level 35 and had already been withdrawn.
Then this Blackwater Mystic Python… battlefield system spawn? Or someone else's interference?
"Forget it—kill the beast first!" Lei Hu roared. "An Earth-tier beast is worth at least a hundred points! Whoever kills it takes all!"
Eyes lit up.
A hundred points—enough to catapult anyone up the rankings.
"Charge!"
"Kill it!"
Chaos erupted.
Bai Yunsheng, Huo Wu, Ying Qi, Lei Hu—along with rogues and minor sect members—swarmed the python.
Though powerful, it was outnumbered.
Over a hundred martial artists, Levels 25 to 35, unleashed everything—martial techniques, energy attacks, even firearms.
The python roared, its tail sweeping out, flinging seven or eight fighters aside. It spewed green venomous mist; those caught too slow were corroded into bloody ruin.
Yet humanity's onslaught was fiercer.
Swords, sabers, daggers, fists, and volleys of fire rained down.
Scales shattered. Flesh tore.
The python writhed, thrashing the lake into a frenzy.
Lu Chen and Wang Meng stayed back, observing coldly.
"Who do you think wins?" Wang Meng asked.
"The beast dies," Lu Chen replied. "But many will fall. The killing blow will be Bai Yunsheng or Lei Hu—and the others won't let it end cleanly. There will be another brawl."
"Should we try to snatch it?"
"Not yet." Lu Chen's eyes never left the field. "Wait until they're both wounded."
Ten minutes passed.
Overwhelmed, the Blackwater Mystic Python bled from countless wounds. In its death throes, it dragged more than twenty contestants down with it.
At last, Bai Yunsheng drove his sword through its vital point.
The massive body collapsed, dissolving into white light.
A gigantic point orb materialized—basin-sized, glowing seductively.
"It's mine!" Bai Yunsheng reached for it.
Huo Wu's saber slashed at his wrist. "Dream on!"
Ying Qi burst from the shadows, dagger flashing.
Lei Hu's fist slammed toward Bai Yunsheng's back.
The four erupted into a melee.
Others went mad, charging in.
"Now!" Lu Chen hissed.
He raised the Demon-Breaking Rifle—not at a person, but at the ground beside the orb.
Woom!
The blue beam struck, blasting a crater, dust and debris exploding upward.
The sudden shock froze everyone for a split second.
Lu Chen activated maximum speed amplification, becoming a blur as he surged into the smoke.
[Xiao Bei, lock the orb's position!]
"Three meters ahead, left!"
Lu Chen reached out.
Warmth met his palm.
The massive orb vanished into him.
Points skyrocketed.
From 45—straight to 145.
Rankings updated instantly.
First place.
Silence fell.
As the dust settled, all eyes fixed on Lu Chen—standing by the crater, Demon-Breaking Rifle in hand.
"Lin Xiao!" Bai Yunsheng's face darkened. "You're courting death!"
"I took the points," Lu Chen said calmly. "Any objections? Or… would you like to try this again?"
He leveled the rifle at Bai Yunsheng.
Bai Yunsheng's expression shifted—he knew that weapon's terror.
Huo Wu and Ying Qi halted, eyes wary.
Lei Hu weighed his options in silence.
"Twenty minutes remain," Lu Chen said, glancing at his terminal. "Are you sure you want to bleed here with me? Don't forget—others are watching."
Indeed, dozens still lingered nearby. Weaker, yes—but in a melee, anyone could strike from the shadows.
And killing Lu Chen would yield half his points—72.5 points—enough to storm the top three.
The temptation was immense.
So was the risk.
No one wanted to be the first to move.
A stalemate.
After ten seconds, Bai Yunsheng snorted. "Consider yourself lucky. In the finals, you'll learn that tricks won't save you."
He turned and left. Qingyun disciples followed.
Huo Wu and Ying Qi each gave Lu Chen a long look before withdrawing.
Lei Hu nodded once, then led his people away.
Seeing the giants depart, the rest dispersed as well.
A potential bloodbath dissolved—disarmed by the Demon-Breaking Rifle and the intimidation of first place.
"Whew…" Wang Meng exhaled as he approached. "I was afraid they'd gang up on us."
"They wouldn't," Lu Chen said, stowing the rifle. "Bai Yunsheng is arrogant, Huo Wu impulsive, Ying Qi treacherous, Lei Hu cautious. They restrain one another—none would make the first move and benefit the others."
"But you've offended them all."
"I already had." Lu Chen shrugged. "Let's go. We'll hide until it's over."
They left the central zone and concealed themselves in another cave.
In the final twenty minutes, scattered skirmishes continued—but none threatened Lu Chen.
With 145 points, he was unassailable.
Second: Bai Yunsheng, 85.Third: Huo Wu, 72.Fourth: Ying Qi, 68.Fifth: Lei Hu, 60.
The gap was enormous.
Time expired.
"The preliminary round has concluded," Chief Referee Li Weiguo's voice echoed. "Top one hundred advance. Teleportation begins."
White light flashed.
Lu Chen reappeared on the sports center platform.
Other contestants materialized around him—some jubilant, some despondent, some grievously wounded and carried off by medics.
The giant screen displayed the final rankings.
First: Lin Xiao — 145 points.Second: Bai Yunsheng — 85 points.Third: Huo Wu — 72 points.…
Among the top hundred: military twelve, Association eight, hidden sects fifteen, major families twenty—the rest independents.
Lu Chen's name blazed at the top.
"Congratulations," Zhao Feng said, clapping his shoulder. "Outstanding work. Though… you've made many enemies."
"I'm used to it," Lu Chen replied.
"The semifinals are in one week, at the Yunmeng Marsh secret realm." Zhao Feng handed him a dossier. "This is what the military knows. The semifinals are a survival match—far more dangerous."
"Understood."
Lu Chen skimmed the material.
Yunmeng Marsh—the largest wetland secret realm in Eastern China, spanning over five hundred square kilometers. Teeming with beasts, poisonous miasma, and treacherous bogs. And rumored… to house ancient ruins.
"Prepare well," Zhao Feng said. "Teams are allowed—up to five. Choose people you trust."
"Mm."
Lu Chen left the sports center and boarded a military vehicle.
Inside, he reviewed the semifinal rules.
Seven days of survival. Killing beasts and opponents earned points—but survival mattered most.
And this time, it was a real secret realm.
People would die.
Leaning back, Lu Chen closed his eyes, already planning.
One week—to grow stronger, master new equipment, and assemble a team.
Wang Meng was one—reliable, capable.
Three more.
He thought of Chen Jing—the Association's deputy director, Level 25. Not top-tier, but seasoned—and she owed him.
Huang Mao, too—weak, but invaluable in intelligence and logistics.
The final slot… perhaps someone the military recommended.
The vehicle stopped.
At the base.
Lu Chen disembarked and headed for his quarters.
At the door, he halted.
A note was wedged in the crack.
He pulled it free. One line, hastily written:
"Beware Qingyun Temple. They plan to kill you in the semifinals. —An insider"
No signature.
Lu Chen's gaze turned icy.
As expected—Bai Yunsheng would not let it rest.
Then come.
Let's see who kills whom.
He entered, already preparing.
The semifinals would be a true trial of life and death.
And he was ready.