Chapter Sixty-Three: The Victor!

Old Li Lingyi’s face was as black as the bottom of a pot. Ziqing and Iron Ox were both outstanding talents of this generation in the Great Luo Academy—not ordinary people by any means—yet they hadn’t even made it into the top ten, and had been utterly suppressed by the Exiled Immortal. How could that possibly please him?

“Scholar Li, let it go. To be able to struggle with the Exiled Immortal for so long—how many peers could manage that?” Zhou Tian offered consolation with an air of seniority, placing Ziqing in an unmistakably junior position.

Across from them, the Daoist and Ferg were left speechless; after all, these were the very words the Daoist had just used to comfort Ferg, now being repurposed to mock Li Lingyi.

“Hmph…” Li Lingyi snorted coldly and refused to reply. Now that victory and defeat had been decided, anything he said would only provoke further scorn.

The tension in the main hall grew thick as powder, while the contest within the secret realm continued in an orderly fashion. Battles raged on; though little time had passed outside, over a month had slipped by within the secret realm.

Contestants dwindled. Members from other factions grew scarce as well. Iron Ox was split open by a single slash from Gu Feng, his righteous aura scattering like a storm. The remaining contender from the Weapon Nation was roasted alive in his mech by Liu Yan, to the point where even the millennium ice-coolant was powerless to help him.

The lone Buddha Child left from the Luo Heaven Temple was shot square in the forehead by Nan Qing, his head bursting. Master Zhikong’s temples bulged with veins—he couldn’t help but feel targeted, for Nan Qing had only fired two arrows so far, eliminating two bald-headed monks.

The two assassins from the Light were dedicated to their craft, strictly adhering to the creed of fleeing a thousand miles if their first strike failed. Unfortunately, they ran into Sun Zhuo, the master manipulator, who branded them with some profound mark and chased them for thousands of miles, finally slaying them beneath his… copper coins.

The Daoists from the Alliance of Dao were remarkably well-rounded, their studies so eclectic as to be bewildering: from the highest arts of magic and formations, all the way down to beggar’s eight-treasure chicken, every skill was second nature. They were even adept at brewing wine. Of all the groups, they lived most comfortably in the secret realm.

Yet they met their end at the hands of two fat men from the Treasured Pavilion—killed, quite literally, by money. The cultivation method of the Treasured Pavilion was unique, requiring actual currency as an aid—not the sort with numbers scrawled on paper, but coins painstakingly forged by the strong. Their power was staggering.

Still, luck was not with the two fat men, for they soon encountered Zhao Yuan and Wu Zhen.

Zhao Yuan weathered the storm of coins with his flesh alone, blood and energy surging, his body as resilient as dragon-engraved fine gold. He shattered one of the fat men with his fists.

Wu Zhen was no less formidable, his fighting style wild and unrestrained; he too eliminated one of the fat men.

The Fool only sent a single representative this time, so their people did not participate, leaving Zhou Tian disappointed—he had been hoping to witness true strategic mastery from a distance!

In the end, only the people of Tianqin remained. Besides Zhou Xunchuan’s group, there were others from Tianqin’s subordinate forces; Nan Qing was one, and another was a young man from Firecloud Mountain.

Firecloud Mountain had only one lone cultivator of some renown, whose mastery over fire was nearly perfect. His disciple Yan Hao was the same; his flaming red hair was proof enough, for such features only appeared in those with special constitutions.

Only these two made it to the final showdown; the rest of Tianqin’s independent cultivators had been eliminated.

Two months passed in the secret realm; only a handful remained. Li Xuanyi and Gu Feng encountered the Exiled Immortal, dueled for a long while, and were eliminated.

Whether by coincidence or fate, Liu Yan came upon Zhou Zui. They faced off for a long time; just as Zhou Zui was about to admit defeat, Liu Yan pressed a palm to his own chest and ended his journey early, leaving Zhou Zui to smile wryly and alone.

Zhao Yuan and Wu Zhen, the two battle maniacs, met in furious combat—each blow landing with a thud, flesh and blood flying. In the end, Zhao Yuan’s superior physique won the battle.

In the main hall, King Xiaoyao’s mouth stretched wide in a grin, nearly bursting into laughter—though he held back for fear of Liu Xiang’s dark stare, almost giving himself internal injury.

Sun Zhuo and Zhang Yi’s destined confrontation… devolved into an enthusiastic game of chess, which nearly put Zhou Tian to sleep. In the end, Zhang Yi won by half a move.

Zhou Xunchuan displayed all the grandeur of a royal, winning with broad, sweeping strokes and eliminating Yan Hao. Even though Yan Hao possessed the Sacred Body of the Blazing Heaven, the Emperor of Fire was of no help.

At last, only five remained in the secret realm: the Exiled Immortal, Nan Qing, Zhou Xunchuan, Zhou Zui, and Zhao Yuan.

Near the end, the Exiled Immortal and Nan Qing faced one another. Nan Qing nocked an arrow for a long time, the bow glowing crimson with bloodlight, but in the end, he did not shoot and conceded in silence.

Zhao Yuan and Zhou Xunchuan met; disregarding Zhou’s status as a prince, Zhao tore off his shirt and challenged him head-on. Their fight left them both drenched in sweat, but Zhou Xunchuan ultimately prevailed, pinning Zhao Yuan to the ground.

Then, strangely, Zhou Xunchuan was matched against the Exiled Immortal. An epic battle erupted: dragons roared, phoenixes sang, and giant palms blotted out the sky. The duel lasted nearly half a day; in the end, the Exiled Immortal emerged victorious, though he fared little better—crystal blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, nourishing the earth below.

Thus, Zhou Zui survived to the final duel with the Exiled Immortal, making Zhou Tian marvel at his extraordinary luck.

When only two remained, the secret realm would reveal their locations to speed things along. Neither showed any fear; both set off to meet.

Zhou Tian had expected a one-sided slaughter, but reality defied his expectations.

“The Sacred Art of Seven Emotions and Six Desires…” The Exiled Immortal frowned at Zhou Zui the moment he saw him. It was the first time he had spoken in the secret realm, his voice low and resonant as a great bell.

“You can tell?” Zhou Zui was slightly surprised.

“Which ancient figure are you, truly?” Divine patterns shimmered in the Exiled Immortal’s eyes, silver radiance pouring forth, layered like ninefold pupils. He did not answer Zhou Zui, instead saying, “How have you progressed so fast? Did you encounter your own tribulation?”

“Clearly, your origins are immense. To know so much of the Sacred Art of Seven Emotions and Six Desires, you must be someone from before the fall of the Futian Realm,” Zhou Zui replied, but neither truly answered the other, as if both spoke to themselves.

“There’s no need for this fight. Though I might hold the advantage for now, if you unleash the divine power of that sacred art, I will be severely affected for special reasons. So, I concede!” The Exiled Immortal’s brow glowed with dragon patterns and golden light. After a long pause, the dragon marks faded and he spoke.

Zhou Zui said nothing, tacitly acknowledging the truth. If the Exiled Immortal was indeed a great figure returned, the Sacred Art of Seven Emotions and Six Desires would indeed be his perfect counter—whether he was now the Exiled Immortal or that ancient person, none could say…

With the Exiled Immortal conceding, he vanished from the secret realm. Zhou Zui stood as the final victor, a pillar of heavenly light enveloping him as celestial maidens scattered petals of the Great Dao. The secret realm itself seemed to rejoice in his triumph.

Zhou Tian was utterly befuddled. Was that really a win? It felt so fake—the Exiled Immortal must have taken a bribe. To survive to the end only to discover you perfectly counter your foe, and win without a fight?