After a few days, the ridicule toward Yanwei had completely died down. Everyone was focused on preparing for the secret realm—a place notorious for its dangers. Out of the 500 participants, barely 20% typically made it out alive. Even Jiang Yu, the famed genius who usually dismissed competitions like this as beneath him, had decided not to attend. His absence only fueled rumors among the disciples.

“If Jiang Yu chose to skip this, then the danger must be unimaginable,” one whispered.

Another nodded grimly. “Even he must feel unprepared. This isn’t just a competition—it’s a death trap.”

While the others busied themselves with frantic last-minute preparations, Yanwei had long since completed his own. A corpse army, complex trapping arrays, mineral bait to lure specific creatures, and a poisoned growth-type dagger—everything was ready.

The dagger was particularly special. A rare weapon capable of evolving with its owner, it had been with him since he achieved Rank 3. Unfortunately, it had regressed to Rank 2 when he sacrificed a portion of its strength to pay for his second merit. Despite this setback, the weapon’s quality still surpassed most others of the same rank.

But none of this mattered to the onlookers. To them, Yanwei’s calm demeanor was nothing more than a final farewell, a man quietly reminiscing on his life before his inevitable death.

….

A few days later, two sects had already arrived, their groups waiting for the Linglong family to complete the gathering. Each sect was led by a Rank 3 elder, their presence serving as both protection and authority.

“Ah, Fellow Daoist Xin, it’s been too long!” greeted a Rank 3 elder from the Divine Sword Sect. His words carried a faint air of arrogance, but his tone showed a measure of respect for Elder Xin’s reputation.

Elder Xin smiled and clasped his hands in greeting. “It has indeed been a while—at least a hundred years, right? Hahaha! You’re as sharp as ever.”

The two exchanged pleasantries, their words hinting at an old camaraderie.

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While they spoke, a wild-looking elder strode over, his ferocious aura turning heads. His sharp, predatory gaze swept across the group before he smirked. “What? No one here wants to greet me?”

Elder Xin chuckled. “My apologies, Fellow Daoist. We got caught up in our nostalgia.”

Elder Zhang, the Divine Sword Sect elder, raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess—you’re here to boast about surviving a Rank 4 encounter again? Or are you looking for another fight?”

The ferocious elder laughed. “Come now, Fellow Daoist Zhang. It’s been so long, yet you treat me so differently compared to Xin. What did I do to deserve this bias?” His exaggerated tone, half-teasing, half-serious, drew faint smiles from those nearby.

Before Elder Zhang could respond, a luxurious boat appeared on the horizon, stealing everyone’s attention. The opulence of its design left no doubt as to who it belonged to.

As the boat docked, a beautiful, slender woman disembarked. Her presence was captivating, radiating elegance and power in equal measure.

“Greetings, Fellow Daoists,” she said with a faint, serene smile. “It seems this is our first meeting.”

The male disciples froze, their breathing quickening as though they were entranced. Some stood motionless, while others looked away in embarrassment, their composure shattered. The female disciples, meanwhile, glared at her with a mixture of envy and resentment but dared not voice their feelings. This was no ordinary woman—she was a Rank 3 elder.

“Fellow Daoist,” Elder Zhang said calmly, his sharp gaze meeting hers, “don’t you think it’s inappropriate to use charm techniques on the younger generation?”

Elder Xin nodded in agreement.

The woman chuckled softly and withdrew her technique, her serene demeanor unbroken. The affected disciples snapped out of their daze, many looking mortified—especially those who were already in relationships.

Even without her charm technique, the woman’s natural beauty drew lingering stares. Her presence was undeniable, commanding attention even among the elders.

Yanwei, however, barely glanced at her before shifting his gaze to Linglong. Among the gathered disciples, she stood out—not for her beauty, but for the unusual mix of worry and excitement in her eyes.

That’s not normal, Yanwei thought, narrowing his eyes. For a genius like her, this is just a competition for sect honor. But she’s too anxious, almost… eager. There’s more to this secret realm than they’re letting on.

Nearby, a sneering disciple caught Yanwei staring and leaned closer with a mocking laugh. “What? Don’t tell me you’re thinking of chasing Linglong. What a joke! You probably don’t even know her real name.”

The remark drew laughter from the other disciples, their voices growing louder. Even Linglong herself glanced at Yanwei, her expression full of disdain.

Yanwei simply lowered his head, feigning embarrassment. He let their mockery pass without a word, his silence only fueling their derision. Among the elders, Linglong’s family elder sneered but said nothing.

“Enough talk!” The wild elder from before barked, breaking the tension. “Look at my disciples—they’re brimming with fighting spirit! Let’s open the realm already.”

“Wait,” Linglong’s family elder interrupted with a faint smirk. “How about a wager first?”

The other three elders exchanged knowing glances and nodded, but they didn’t bother explaining the terms aloud. Instead, they moved swiftly to open the secret realm.

“Enter now!” came the collective command from the elders.

The disciples surged forward, filing into the portal one by one. Many looked disappointed, curious about the terms of the elders’ wager but unwilling to risk delaying their entry.