Under the Shroud of Night
In the dark of night, Li Yan was struck with abject astonishment as he beheld a relentless barrage of golden, spear‐like projections shooting in every direction. His protective spiritual light—the barrier he could muster with the meager reserves of qi he had left—would likely be breached within only two or three breaths. It was clear that if the assault continued unimpeded, he would soon be reduced to nothing more than a defenseless hedgehog. With a heavy sigh, Li Yan resolved that now was his final gamble. In that critical instant, he heard an urgent voice at his ear—Du Sanjiang's calm tone cutting through the tumult.
"Li Junior Brother, just surrender now. If you persist, even Senior Brother may not be able to control the situation inside the formation."
Li Yan's face turned ashen, sweat beading on his brow as he pressed his lips tight in grim determination. At that, Du Sanjiang furrowed his brow and silently mused, How can this Junior Brother be so unyielding? If he continues thus, then at the crucial moment I must do everything I can—even if it means he suffers grievous injuries, perhaps even death.
Within his heart, Li Yan silently vowed that his protective light might only hold for about three breaths—but if he gambled on just one breath of full qi expenditure, then he would surrender immediately afterward.
Gazing at the countless golden spears rushing ever closer, Li Yan gathered every ounce of his remaining qi. In an instant his protective glow flared luminously. At that very moment outside the area, Li Wu Yi had already taken to the air, his spiritual radiance undulating as he scanned the surroundings. Li Wu Yi could not be sure whether he might be able to reach Li Yan before danger struck—and so he maintained constant vigilance.
What had just transpired had happened within but a few heartbeats; the transmission of thoughts through divine perception took only the slightest stirring of the mind. Li Wu Yi, forewarned when the formation shifted, had soared into the air above the platform.
Soon after Du Sanjiang's voice had sounded, the shower of golden spears closed from 200 meters to 150, then 100, and finally to a mere 50 meters from Li Yan. At that moment—just as the golden shafts seemed about to engulf his body—the entire arena fell into a stunned hush. Every spectator and the combat overseers held their breath. Li Yan's face was drenched in sweat as he channeled every last drop of his qi into strengthening his protective light, knowing that in just a single breath's time he would be forced to give up if he could not stave off the attack.
Then, quite suddenly, an extraordinary transformation occurred on the battle platform. A brilliant white glow erupted from Du Sanjiang's body. In an instant, he became a towering pillar of pure white light, so radiant that no one could dare look directly at it; the onlookers shut their eyes instinctively—even Li Wu Yi blinked in surprise. A deep, oppressive pressure surged upward from Du Sanjiang, and moments later a thunderous, earth-shaking roar split the air.
In that fateful moment, while Du Sanjiang had been controlling his formation-based assault, he suddenly felt an alarm jolt his heart—the incantations in his hands froze mid-gesture. He sensed a collapse of his own external protective formation: a powerful white light, seemingly emanating from an external source, came crashing down onto his barrier. That pressure, comparable to the might of a fighter at the pinnacle tenth level of Qi Condensation, slammed into his formation. Although his protective formation was normally formidable—capable of withstanding a full-power strike from a peer—now it had been reduced to nothing more than a fragile layer of runes. In one horrifying moment, his entire barrier was rent asunder, and the force slammed into him.
Du Sanjiang was hit by a tremendous shock. Unwilling or unable to summon his own protective spiritual light in time, he was immediately sent hurtling backward some dozen zhang (tens of meters). Fortuitously, although his formation was shattered, it had absorbed most of the impact. Still, Du Sanjiang lay on the ground, disoriented and reeling as his vision turned milky white. When he attempted to rise, he found himself unable to do so even after two tries.
Meanwhile, Li Yan—still trapped within the battle formation—watched in horror as the myriad golden spears now filled the space, less as physical projectiles and more as shimmering lights dissolving into a vast, bright expanse overhead. For a brief moment the spears seemed to hover in the air; then, almost miraculously, they dispersed into a shower of golden radiance. Li Yan's heart skipped a beat and immediately swelled with joy: It worked! But his delight was abruptly replaced by dread as he cried out, "Quick! Send Master Du to the Sect Leader immediately! Hurry, send him—" He shouted frantically, his arms flailing as he tried to point wildly toward an unseen direction beyond his view, desperate to signal for help. Yet he could see nothing of the outside; he only knew that he must somehow alert them, even if he could not discern Du Sanjiang's exact whereabouts.
At that critical moment, while Du Sanjiang's consciousness began to stir, he suddenly felt a numbing chill coursing through his head—a stinging pain as if a razor-sharp spike had pierced his brain. He sensed that his body was growing colder; soon, his entire being was overwhelmed by unconsciousness. In a horrifying instant, two streams of dark blood began to trickle from his nose. In his hazy awareness, Du Sanjiang could only register that he was suddenly weightless—floating in midair…
The temporary formation of the battle platform did not block sound—it had been hastily arranged, an illusory spatial trap designed purely for ambush. Naturally, Li Wu Yi heard Li Yan's desperate call. Alarmed, Li Wu Yi did not hesitate; he swooped in to tend to Du Sanjiang. Discovering that Du Sanjiang's nose had begun to bleed black vitals—an ominous sign that he was suffering from a potent poison—Li Wu Yi surmised that his opponent had been struck by a poison of truly terrifying potency. Hastily, Li Wu Yi channeled a deep reserve of qi into Du Sanjiang's heart region, his aim to secure the elder's vital meridians. Then, as swiftly as he had appeared, Li Wu Yi's figure vanished into darkness.
Below on the platform, an uproar now broke out among the spectators. Those who witnessed the final moments of the white light attack murmured in confusion, not knowing from whence the dazzling burst had come or how Du Sanjiang had come to be stricken by such a strange toxin. Could it be that a "divine-sense poison" had been unleashed?
Within the Assembly of the Void Pavilion, the venerable Yan Longzi and the other elders exhaled collectively, relieved. Standing beside them, Li Wu Yi finally lowered his gaze—though Du Sanjiang was still unconscious, his life appeared safely preserved. Du Sanjiang was a prized disciple of a Golden Core elder in the sect; if he should die, even if Li Yan bore no ill intent, the rescue would be judged harshly. It was clear that the elder of Four Xiang Peak would hold a deep grudge against Li Yan for any mishap. Even if later Master Wei Chongran stepped in to smooth things over, the damage would linger. In the future, whenever Li Yan ventured out alone, who would know what fate awaited him?
"Indeed, this poison is most malicious," Yan Longzi commented contemplatively. "Fortunately, Li Yan's timely warning and the prompt intervention by Little Brother Li Wu Yi saved his heart from impending danger. If he had delayed even another dozen breaths, he might have suffered irreversible damage—a fatal flaw that could jeopardize his cultivation forever. Even so, he will undoubtedly require a period of convalescence. But with our timing, he should just make it in time for tomorrow evening's final match. He's already won two rounds; one more victory, and he will have secured his future."
A solemn elder added, "Li Yan had never deployed this poison before. It does not rely on being controlled by divine perception; it activates by itself." "Time-of-day activation," another elder summarized briefly.
These seasoned poison experts—old cultivators who had long mastered the art of venom—quickly deduced that this was one of the two most potent poisons of the 'Scattered Twelve' style. Its toxicity was extraordinary. Each of these two toxins was designed to ignite naturally at either noon or at midnight, harnessing the fiercest sunlight or the softest, most yin lunar energy, respectively. Yet their activation was dependent on clear weather—a cloudy day would doom them to dormancy.
Under conditions of scorching sunlight at noon or the most delicate moonlight at midnight, the potency of these toxins depended on the cultivator's own level. Li Yan's use of them could, at full force, reach the destructive level of a fighter at the pinnacle tenth level of Qi Condensation. These two Scattered toxins were, at present, the deadliest among their kind—a poison Li Yan had never dared to try until now. In today's repeated counterattacks, Du Sanjiang largely ignored direct defense; although Li Yan had applied several toxins (even ones controlled by divine perception) against Du Sanjiang's formation, the toxins clung to Du Sanjiang's protective array. Whether they would eventually erupt immediately or be triggered later by telestic divine control, they were unable to breach Du Sanjiang's defensive formation. With no recourse left, Li Yan, in desperation, decided to apply one of the two toxins—the "Light of the Full Moon's Lament." This toxin was known to release its power automatically when the moon shone at its fullest and darkest intensity. Tonight, the moon was exceptionally bright—a perfect condition for triggering its effect. Yet it was not yet midnight; so Li Yan did what he could in the early phase by affixing this toxin onto the surface of his formation, hoping to buy enough time until midnight. Finally, after struggling through many breaths, Li Yan managed to hold on until midnight. At that moment, riding on the strongest lunar yin energy, the toxin burst forth, the combined power shattering Du Sanjiang's defense. In the process, Du Sanjiang was fatally struck by the potent venom.
Among the audience on the platform—even Li Wu Yi did not grasp fully how the attack had been executed. However, from his close proximity he did detect a slight ripple of power distinct from Li Yan's aura. Meanwhile, from above, among the high cultivators in the Void Pavilion, a keen-eyed Golden Core master noted a fine, nearly imperceptible beam of light descending from the enormous full moon. That beam struck Du Sanjiang, and almost at once Du Sanjiang's body reacted violently: his protective toxins exploded in a cascade of dazzling brilliance, followed by a dense mist that seemed to seep into his very being. Later, after carefully piecing together the chain of events, the elders concluded that this must be a "time-of-day activation" toxin. In similar cases, adept practitioners would sometimes infuse a toxin into water so that, at the designated time when the power of nature was right, it would unleash with devastating force. Such a technique required not only in-depth pharmacological knowledge but also formidable spiritual power to control its release precisely.
Li Wu Yi, having heard these murmurs, sighed at the strangeness of the Scattered toxin's behavior, then departed quickly. For Li Yan, meanwhile, remained trapped within the battle formation.
Ultimately, the match was declared a victory for Li Yan. Although his own qi barrier had been broken by the opposing formation—leaving him unable to exit immediately—the protective array would eventually cease operating once the supporting spirit stones were exhausted. Then he would be free to leave.
The sect authorities did not publicly specify what toxin Du Sanjiang had been struck with. This ambiguity stirred discontent among fellow disciples on the platform. Many considered Li Yan's win utterly bizarre; what kind of technique could possibly breach the protective array of a fighter at the tenth level of Great Round-Perfection? And it was not only any tenth-level opponent—it was Du Sanjiang himself, a renowned disciple taken in by a Golden Core elder and one of the top fighters on Four Xiang Peak. Some even whispered that Du Sanjiang might already be the number one Qi Condensation talent on Four Xiang Peak.
Gazing at his surroundings as he made his way back to the modest bamboo grove area, Li Yan's expression was sheepish as he explained quietly, "I only managed a lucky sneak attack." Before any response could be uttered, he slumped heavily onto the ground. Clutching two spirit stone tokens to restore his qi, he looked utterly spent—like a lantern long extinguished.
A few of his peers exchanged glances. Having witnessed how Li Yan had fought with his life, they knew his words were no idle boasting. They dared not disturb him now, for his next match might come as soon as one or two breaths later.
Off to one side, Wei Chituo and Yun Chunqu conversed in hushed tones. Their low voices mentioned phrases like "spiritual energy… heaven and earth…" but Li Yan—lost in deep meditation—heard nothing of it.
Zhao Min, meanwhile, listened thoughtfully to the murmurs of the crowd. Standing near the long pavilion, she looked up at the sky with a puzzled expression, as if sensing that Li Yan's final breakthrough might not have come solely from his own qi but rather by harnessing some force from heaven or earth. Other accomplished Foundation cultivators were similarly convinced—no one could account for Li Yan's deep reserves on his own.
Wang Tian's face was grim. He could hardly believe that Li Yan had managed to defeat Du Sanjiang. In Li Yan's subsequent matches, it would be exceedingly difficult to deliver another crushing defeat. Earlier, Wang Tian had not only ordered the disciples of Lingchong Peak to deal severely with Li Yan if they met him, but he had also, through various channels, coaxed a handful of Foundation cultivators from other peaks to join in an order against Li Yan. In the end, only three or four agreed; most refused for fear of incurring the wrath of the notorious Li Wu Yi. Even among those few, probably only one or two were willing to fight. This left Wang Tian seething. Although several opponents Li Yan encountered later had indeed been instructed to counter him, truly potent challengers were few. In one engagement, only two mythical fighters had been matched against him—and of those, only one managed a narrow victory. Such slim margins left Wang Tian bitter. Nearby, Zuo Shengyan—who had long harbored secret complaints—murmured bitterly about how fate had been unkind to Li Yan. "How is it that Li Yan's luck is so extraordinary? He hasn't even drawn a tenth-level Great Round-Perfection opponent. Now that he's facing Du Sanjiang, they ought to be able to bring him down swiftly," he grumbled.
"Brother Tian, did you see how he eventually turned the battle around?" Zuo Shengyan asked, vexed yet curious. "Perhaps he activated some mystic treasure—one of those one-time hidden artifacts. That would explain why Master Du did not immediately sense it," replied Wang Tian after a pause, speaking in low, ominous tones. He suspected that Li Yan's victory was not a mere chance occurrence but may very well have come from a mysterious artifact—perhaps even a magical device bestowed upon him by Wei Chongran. Of course, Wang Tian firmly believed that Li Yan could never naturally wield such potent power, and that some external force must have been at work.
As the battle on stage continued, Li Yan's eyes were fixed on the streaming golden spears. In a final gambit, having rallied every last bit of qi, he felt his protective barrier surge to its apex. Yet even then, a cascade of golden long spears—more numerous than ever—streamed toward him. Within mere seconds, the projectiles closed in from 200 meters to just 50 meters. Then, as if on cue, with the crowd holding its breath, the spears halted midair and slowly dissolved into a radiant cascade of golden light.
For a moment, Li Yan's heart swelled with hope. "It's worked!" he thought. But then his expression shifted to horror as he simultaneously cried out, "Quick—send Master Du to the Sect Leader! Hurry, send him—!" His voice, desperate and ragged, rang through the platform as he flailed and pointed wildly, even though he could see nothing beyond his own shrouded vision.
At that moment, as Du Sanjiang's consciousness began to reawaken, a sudden, bone-chilling cold struck him. A searing, stabbing pain radiated from his head inward, and he realized that his body was growing ice-cold. In an instant, his consciousness vanished. He felt two rushes of dark blood streaming from his nose. In his haze, he even sensed that he was suddenly suspended in midair…
The temporary formation of the battle platform did not block sound—after all, it was hastily constructed for ambush purposes. Li Wu Yi, close by, clearly heard Li Yan's desperate pleadings. Startled beyond measure, he did not pause. He swiftly rushed into the fray. When he reached Du Sanjiang, he discovered dark blood oozing from the elder's nose—a sure sign that a severe venom had been absorbed. Li Wu Yi immediately poured his qi into protecting Du Sanjiang's vital meridians. In the blink of an eye, his form faded from sight.
As chaos reigned below, murmurs from the onlookers ran rampant. Many wondered what had just occurred: where had that sudden white light come from, and by what means had Du Sanjiang been stricken down by poison? Could it be that a "divine-sense poison" had been unleashed?
In the lofty halls of the Void Pavilion, Elder Yan Longzi and the other high elders exhaled relief in unison. Li Wu Yi lowered his gaze with heavy concern—though Du Sanjiang had not yet regained full consciousness, his life was apparently no longer in mortal danger. Du Sanjiang was a prized disciple of a Golden Core elder; if he had perished, even an accident on Li Yan's part would have drawn severe reprisal. One could only assume that the Golden Core elder of Four Xiang Peak would bear a deep grudge against Li Yan; even if Master Wei Chongran later intervened superficially, Li Yan's future solitary ventures would be shadowed with uncertainty.
"Surely, that poison is overwhelmingly potent," Elder Yan Longzi reflected, "yet Li Yan's timely warning saved him. Little Brother Li Wu Yi's intervention secured his vital meridians; had he not acted within even ten extra breaths, Li Yan might have lost his life—or at least incurred irreparable damage that would stunt his cultivation. Even so, he will require days of recuperation. But by a stroke of fortune, he has enough time to compete in tomorrow's final match. He's already won two bouts—one more victory would secure his next phase."
Another elder added gravely, "It appears Li Yan had never used this poison before. It does not rely on neural control but activates spontaneously." "Time-of-day activation," summarized yet another, his tone terse.
These venerable poison experts, renowned for their mastery over toxins, quickly deduced the mechanism. The poison in question belonged to one of the two most extraordinary toxins of the "Scattered Twelve" style. Its venom was unimaginably fierce. Both of these toxins were known to burst into action at specific times—one at midday, the other at midnight—activated respectively by the blazing sun and the soft, yin moonlight. Yet their activation was limited to clear, sunny conditions; on overcast days, neither would ignite.
Taking advantage of tonight's conditions—the full, radiant moon shining high and the ambient yin energy at its peak—Li Yan had earlier fused the "Moonlit Lament" toxin onto his formation. Although the intended moment was nearing the midnight hour, he had begun its infusion in the early phase to allow time for eventual ignition. As the battle raged, Li Yan and his formation absorbed every bit of his qi, defending against the countless golden spears for one breath's duration before he resolved to yield.
Then, in the space above the battle platform, a drastic change occurred. A blinding white light erupted from Du Sanjiang's body. For an instant, he became a colossal column of pure white radiance that forced every onlooker to avert their eyes. A deep, oppressive pressure surged from his form, and then a deafening roar shattered the tension.
In that very moment, as Du Sanjiang had been controlling his formation-based assault, a sudden jolt caused his incantations to falter. He sensed a torrential white light, not emanating from within him, descend upon his protective formation. A force equivalent to that of a full-powered tenth-level fighter bore down, overwhelming his defenses. Though his barrier, usually robust and capable of deflecting an all-out strike from a peer, had been devoted entirely to absorbing the attack, it was torn asunder like a fragile paper screen. The shattered fragments slammed into Du Sanjiang with brutal force.
A surge of overwhelming strength hit him. Before he could muster a defense, Du Sanjiang was hurled backward dozens of zhang. Fortunately, the remnants of his barrier, though in shambles, had absorbed most of the impact. Still, as he lay there, dazed and his head reeling with white-hot confusion, the vision before him was of a vast space awash in golden light. Li Yan, still inside the formation, watched mass after mass of golden spears hover in the air for an instant before dissolving into scattered beams of light. For a heartbeat, hope flickered within him—it's done!—but then his face contorted, and he roared, "Quick! Send Master Du to the Sect Leader at once! Hurry, send Master Du—!" His words came in a frantic rush as he waved his arms wildly, trying to signal directions he could not see through the shroud of darkness.
At that desperate moment, as Du Sanjiang's consciousness began to return, he suddenly felt an icy chill surge over his head. A searing, stabbing pain burst from deep within—then his body went cold, and all sense of awareness faded as he slumped into unconsciousness. In a moment of horrific revelation, he discovered two torrents of dark blood streaming from his nose. In his hazy state, he even perceived that his body had begun to levitate—an omen both tragic and uncanny.
The hastily erected formation on the battle platform did little to muffle the sounds of chaos. Li Wu Yi, ever vigilant, had heard Li Yan's desperate appeals. He had not paused and, with a racing heart, soared through the air to reach Du Sanjiang. When he arrived, he saw that dark blood was gushing from the elder's nose—a sign of severe poisoning. Hurriedly, Li Wu Yi invested his qi into protecting Du Sanjiang's heart meridians, and then, with a ghostly swiftness, disappeared into the darkness.
Down on the platform, the murmuring in the crowd was feverish. Disciples watching the match could only gape in astonishment. Many commented that Li Yan's victory was astonishing, achieved not through sheer personal qi alone but seemingly aided by some mysterious force from heaven and earth. Some even speculated that perhaps Li Yan's final breakthrough was not entirely his own doing—that he had borrowed some concealed divine power. Certainly, no one could fathom how someone so young and at a lower cultivation level might breach the defenses of a tenth-level Great Round-Perfection fighter.
After his final, desperate maneuver, Li Yan slowly spiraled back, his form staggering as he landed near the small bamboo grove area. With a pained, half-hearted smile, he murmured, "A lucky sneak attack… if only I had more time." Then, without waiting for further comment, he sunk onto the ground, clutching two spirit stones as he attempted to restore his rapidly depleted energy. His state was dire—he was, in every sense, exhausted to the point of being spent.
A few onlookers exchanged glances, remembering how Li Yan had nearly given his life in the desperate struggle. They knew his words were no mere boast but the cold truth of his precarious survival. As the contest wore on, the matches between cultivators grew ever more intense. Li Yan's next battle might well commence within a mere hour or two.
Off to one side, Wei Chituo and Yun Chunqu huddled together in low voices, discussing quietly. Their whispered remarks—murmurs of "qi… heaven's energy…"—were unintelligible to Li Yan, who was too absorbed in his own desperate struggle to notice.
Zhao Min, casting a pensive glance toward the sky near the long pavilion, couldn't help but wonder: perhaps Li Yan's final victory was not solely due to his own spiritual power, but was bolstered by some unseen force of nature. Several other experienced Foundation cultivators shared this suspicion, for Li Yan, by all accounts, could not have achieved so much strength on his own.
Wang Tian, meanwhile, wore a grim countenance. He could hardly believe that Li Yan had triumphed over Du Sanjiang. In his mind, in future matches, it would become near-impossible to inflict a serious wound on Li Yan. Earlier, he had been the one to order disciples of Lingchong Peak to use every fierce tactic against Li Yan—and even managed to secure a few Foundation cultivators from other peaks who were willing to target Li Yan. Yet, aside from three or four, most had refused to risk offending the notorious Li Wu Yi. Of those few who did agree, in the actual contest only two were drawn to battle Li Yan—and of those, just one managed a narrow victory. Such slim odds left Wang Tian seething. Nearby, Zuo Shengyan muttered bitterly about how the fates had been so kind to Li Yan: "How is it that Li Yan's luck is so extraordinary that he never draws a true tenth-level Great Round-Perfection opponent? Now that he's facing Du Sanjiang—a fighter renowned on Four Xiang Peak—he should have been defeated swiftly. Yet he endures, and even triumphs in the end."
"Brother Tian, did you see how he managed to turn the tide in the end?" Zuo Shengyan later asked, her tone a mix of disbelief and intrigue. "Perhaps he employed some hidden artifact—a one-time secret treasure that he had concealed in space," Wang Tian pondered, his features sombre. "It is certain that he must have acquired some mystical item from Wei Chongran—perhaps even a rare magical device—that enabled him to counter such overwhelming force. Otherwise, how could a mere qi-manipulator like Li Yan ever have the strength to defy someone like Du Sanjiang?"
"Let us see if, in the future, he has any more chances to be taught a lesson," Wang Tian continued bitterly. "If not, and if he manages to rank within the top 108, well, when it comes time to select the final team, I may have to choose him for my side—and that I cannot tolerate."
As the Battle Reaches Its Climactic Moment
In the battle's final moments, Li Yan was struck with horrified wonder as, high overhead, countless golden spear-like javelins rained down with terrifying precision. His protective spiritual light, bolstered by every last drop of qi, might hold only for a breath or two before being completely pierced. With his heart pounding and his body trembling, Li Yan silently decided: "I shall rely on my remaining qi for only one more breath—and then concede."
Amid the cascade of golden light, Li Yan expended every scrap of qi in a final burst, causing his protective aura to shine at its fullest. At that very moment, on the perimeter of the arena, Li Wu Yi—ever alert—hovered in midair. His form glowed with fluctuating rays of spiritual light as he scanned for any sign of crisis, uncertain if he would reach Li Yan in time to offer salvation.
Then, just after Du Sanjiang's final command over the formation had been transmitted, the golden javelins closed in: from 200 meters, to 150, 100, and finally 50 meters. As they neared with lethal inevitability, the spears seemed on the verge of striking Li Yan's body. But in that heart-stopping moment, a sudden, dazzling transformation occurred—the entire arena erupted with an intense white light. A gigantic pillar of pure white radiance soared upward from Du Sanjiang's body so brilliantly that no one could gaze upon it directly. Spectators instinctively closed their eyes—even Li Wu Yi blinked in disbelief—as a palpable, oppressive pressure enveloped the area. Then, with a cataclysmic roar that shook the heavens, Du Sanjiang's barrier shattered, the force striking his body like a tidal wave.
At once, Li Yan felt the full brunt of the incoming assault. Amid the roar, as he struggled desperately to hold on with every ounce of his qi, his mind raced through his options. With the realization that his remaining energy might only shield him for one final breath, he murmured to himself, "I must surrender after one final breath."
In that very moment, as the countless golden spears drew near, Li Yan summoned every bit of qi, and his protective light blazed as never before. Outside the formation, the sky seemed to warp as an ominous white light surged from Du Sanjiang's body once again. Suddenly, the golden javelins stilled midair. Then, inexplicably, they slowed and transformed—gradually dissolving into a cascade of shimmering gold that spread slowly outward across the battle arena.
For an instant, Li Yan's heart filled with hope—"It's done," he thought. But then his face turned pale as he cried out, "Quick! Send Master Du to the Sect Leader—Hurry, send him!" His voice, desperate and trembling, rang out as he frantically waved and pointed, though he could see nothing beyond the inner confines of the battle formation.
Still, as Du Sanjiang began to stir, he sensed a chilling shock. A sudden, searing pain shot from his head, and he felt his body grow icy cold. Within moments, his consciousness faded, and he sensed dark blood beginning to trickle from his nose. In a shocking moment of confusion, Du Sanjiang found himself suspended in midair—a surreal and terrifying scene.
The battle formation—merely a temporary, hastily arranged trap designed for ambush—could not suppress all sound. Li Wu Yi, stationed nearby, clearly heard Li Yan's desperate plea. Alarmed beyond measure, he did not pause. He rushed forward with determined speed. When he reached Du Sanjiang, he beheld the ghastly sight of dark blood gushing from the elder's nose; it was evident that a potent venom had taken hold. Li Wu Yi quickly imbued his qi into Du Sanjiang's vital meridians in an effort to stabilize him, then vanished as if swallowed by the darkness.
On the platform below, the audience erupted in a confused din. Everyone watching was stunned—unable to comprehend where that sudden white light had come from, or how Du Sanjiang had been stricken by a toxin that even now defied explanation. Had a "divine-sense poison" been unleashed?
In the lofty halls of the sect's Void Pavilion, Elder Yan Longzi and the other venerable elders exchanged relieved sighs. Even Li Wu Yi, however, could only lower his head with heavy concern. Although Du Sanjiang had not yet fully regained consciousness, his life now seemed safe. Du Sanjiang was a precious disciple of a Golden Core elder—if the worst had happened, even if Li Yan bore no ill intent, urgent treatment would have been required. But death was death. Indeed, it was likely that the renowned Golden Core elder at Four Xiang Peak now harbored a deep grudge against Li Yan; even if Master Wei Chongran later stepped in to smooth things over, the incident would forever be a blemish on Li Yan's destiny. Out in the open, Li Wu Yi could only press on, knowing Li Yan must now fight for every breath.
"Truly, this poison is ruthlessly domineering," Elder Yan Longzi reflected. "But thank heavens Li Yan gave an early alert. Little Brother Li Wu Yi's swift action in shielding his heart meridians might have saved his life—if he had delayed even another dozen breaths, Li Yan would have likely succumbed to fatal qi depletion or been left with a debilitating condition that might cripple his future cultivation. Even so, he will need at least a day of convalescence. Fortunately, he has already won two matches; one more victory should secure his fate."
One elder commented gravely, "Li Yan has never used such a toxin before. It does not rely on neural control; it activates on its own."
"Time-of-day activation," another added shortly, his gaze somber.
These seasoned masters of venom quickly deduced that this was one of the most lethal toxins known from the Scattered Twelve style—one that could, under the right circumstances, trigger spontaneously by harnessing either the noon sun's fierce energy or the midnight moon's gentle, yin influence. Today, as the golden spears hesitated in midair and then slowly dispersed into brilliant, diffused light, Li Yan's senses confirmed that his carefully engineered tactic had succeeded. Yet even as he exhaled a fleeting sigh of relief, his face suddenly lost its color, and he cried out, "Hurry—send Master Du to the Sect Leader! Send him now!" Torch-like, his arms waved wildly, though he could see nothing outside the formation, lost in a haze of desperate hope.
As Du Sanjiang's consciousness began to return, he suddenly felt a chill that crept over him like a shard of ice—a piercing pain radiated from his head and spread deeper, making his body feel shockingly cold. In an instant, Du Sanjiang lost all awareness; he felt, in his blurred state, dark blood streaming from his nose. Half-awake, he even sensed that he might already be floating in the air—a terrifying sign that his condition was far graver than anyone had dared predict.
On the platform below, the crowds were in uproar, their voices a blend of astonishment, pity, and concern. Veteran cultivators among them discussed in low, urgent tones how Li Yan's protective light had been barely enough to stave off the brute force of the attack—and how it would be nearly impossible to hold out any longer under such overwhelming pressure.
When Du Sanjiang finally began to stir, he realized with regret and resignation that his own condition was dire. He could scarcely muster the energy to release even his own protective spiritual light. Meanwhile, Li Yan—crumpled within the formation—sensed that the multitude of golden spears, now transformed into a cascade of golden radiance that slowly disintegrated, was drawing the final moments of the battle to a close. With his qi nearly spent, Li Yan resolved that he would forgo further resistance after one last breath.
Then, as if the heavens themselves had shifted, the entire arena suddenly brightened as a fierce white light surged upward from Du Sanjiang's battered form. Du Sanjiang, like a towering column of white brilliance, was overwhelmed by the light that forced every onlooker to avert their gaze. The intense pressure escalated, and with one thunderous, earth-shaking roar, his protective formation—already weakened by earlier assault—crumbled entirely beneath the onslaught.
In that final, heart-stopping moment, Li Yan watched as an array of golden long spears, now mere fragments of airborne light, descended. The entire arena seemed to shudder with kinetic force. Then, in a split second that stretched into an eternity, a profound shift occurred in the space around him—the effect of a well-timed activation of the "Moonlit Lament" toxin he had applied earlier. Seemingly guided by the inexorable power of the moon at its fullest, the toxin burst forth from Li Yan's formation, shattering the enemy array and devastating Du Sanjiang's defenses. The sudden explosion of toxin and qi enveloped the area in a blinding, golden haze. In that tumultuous burst, Du Sanjiang was gravely wounded by the potent venom as mist and ethereal smoke swirled into his body.
The audience, along with Du Sanjiang and Li Wu Yi, could only stand in stunned silence. No one on the platform could discern precisely how the attack had been executed—only that Li Yan, desperate and determined, had summoned an overwhelming burst of nature's power to break through. For a moment, time seemed to suspend as golden light reigned in the heavens—a light that appeared to descend directly from the full moon above. Witnesses later would remark that it was as if the very power of the sky had lent its aid to Li Yan.
In the end, the match was declared a victory for Li Yan. Although he remained trapped by the formation—which did not itself continue to attack once uncontrolled by an operator—he would eventually be freed once the energy sustaining the formation was exhausted. The sect's authorities offered no explanation regarding the mysterious toxin that had afflicted Du Sanjiang, a fact that stirred murmurs of discontent among the assembled disciples. Many whispered that Li Yan's victory was uncanny indeed—that only some extraordinary technique could have broken the defenses of a peer as mighty as a tenth-level fighter. (Even more so, Du Sanjiang was not an ordinary opponent but a famed disciple of a Golden Core elder on Four Xiang Peak, regarded as one of the top three among Qi Condensation fighters. Some even speculated that he might be the very best on the peak.)
Li Yan, now under the intense gaze of his seniors, slowly drifted back to the quieter Bamboo Grove area. Once he landed, he managed a wry, apologetic smile and said, "A lucky sneak attack, if you will." Without waiting for any further comment, he sank onto the ground, clutching two spirit stone tokens as he attempted to restore his nearly depleted qi. His condition was dire—he appeared utterly spent, as if his internal lamp had almost burned out completely.
A few of his companions exchanged troubled glances. They remembered all too well the near-death struggle Li Yan had endured moments ago and knew that his words were far from mere boastfulness. In the ensuing rounds of the competition, it was uncertain when Li Yan would next be called to the platform—perhaps in as little as one or two hours.
Off to one side, Wei Chituo and Yun Chunqu retreated quietly. In subdued whispers, they discussed matters of "qi reserves… the interplay of heaven and earth…" Their hushed voices carried hints of dread and awe. Meanwhile, Zhao Min, with her gaze lowered and a pensive look on her face, stared up at the sky near the long pavilion. She had a strange feeling—a sense that Li Yan's eventual triumph might not have been born solely of his own qi, but might have harnessed some universal strength. Many strong Foundation cultivators present seemed to share that suspicion, for it appeared impossible that Li Yan, at his level, had such unyielding depth of power purely on his own.
Wang Tian, however, remained grim. He could scarcely believe that Li Yan had managed to defeat Du Sanjiang. In his mind, in Li Yan's upcoming matches, it would be nearly impossible to inflict another significant blow upon him. Earlier, aside from ordering the disciples of Lingchong Peak to use every tactic against Li Yan, Wang Tian had also arranged—via secret channels—with a few Foundation cultivators from other peaks to target him. But only three or four had even agreed, and among those, perhaps only one managed to score a narrow victory. This all left Wang Tian fuming. Nearby, Zuo Shengyan, her expression a mixture of frustration and envy, muttered bitterly about how fate had favored Li Yan so repeatedly—refusing even to draw a single opponent of tenth-level Great Round-Perfection caliber. "If his opponents were truly that strong, he'd have fallen by now. Relying solely on his traps should not have saved him in a fight against someone like Du Sanjiang," she grumbled.
"Brother Tian, what do you think helped him turn the tide at the end?" Zuo Shengyan asked quietly. "Perhaps he activated some secret treasure—a one-time-use artifact that had been prearranged to exist in that space. That would explain why Du did not immediately register its presence," Wang Tian speculated gloomily. He, too, suspected that Li Yan's victory had been achieved by tapping into some external, hidden resource—perhaps something bestowed upon him by Wei Chongran, a mysterious magical item or talisman. To Wang Tian, it was inconceivable that Li Yan could gain such tremendous power solely by his own efforts without such an aid.
"Now, let's see if there's yet another opportunity to teach this upstart a lesson," Wang Tian continued bitterly. "If not, then when he positions himself within the top 108, I must pray that he isn't selected as one of the final three team leaders. Otherwise, I'll have no choice but to pick him for my team." His tone was harsh and determined.
After the Battle
In the final moments of the battle, Li Yan was overcome with dread as he witnessed the relentless storm of golden spears. With his protective barrier at the brink of collapse, he had