Feng Zhiming stood within the small wooden house, his gaze scanning the twelve other disciples who had responded to the second elder’s summons. Each of them was silent, their eyes locked on the figure at the center of the arena—a masked man dressed in the same gray robes as the rest, though his robes bore distinctive golden markings at the wrists and ankles.
“Senior brother, that’s a supervisor from the Vigil Squadron,” Mu Han whispered, his tone hushed with respect. “They’re elite warriors who serve directly under the second elder.”
Feng Zhiming’s fabricated memories confirmed Mu Han’s words. The Vigil Squadron was a group of highly disciplined cultivators known for their unwavering loyalty and ability to execute orders without question.
“I reckon the second elder is looking for capable spies today,” Feng Zhiming mused.
Mu Han chuckled, shaking his head. “Senior brother, I respect you, but please don’t pretend to know the inner thoughts of the sect elders. I even asked some of my supervisor buddies, and they have no idea what this summons is about.”
Feng Zhiming didn’t respond. Instead, he focused on the masked man, his mind calculating. Any one of the disciples here could be a participant in the deadly game he was caught in. But now wasn’t the time to discern identities. He couldn’t eliminate them in front of everyone, not yet.
The masked man, known as Lunar Vigil, spoke, his voice older than expected. “I am Lunar Vigil, a cultivator under the command of the second elder. The elder requires a disciple skilled in infiltration and information gathering, someone capable of exceptional stealth.”
Lunar Vigil began to stretch his legs and arms, preparing for what was to come. “Stealth is the key to this mission. I am here to determine the best individual for the job.”
He dropped his sword onto the arena floor, a symbolic gesture that marked the beginning of the test. “Your goal is to reach the Divine Demon Hall before I catch you. Since it is impossible for you all to match my speed, this will be a test of your stealth abilities.”
The terms were laid out clearly. Lunar Vigil would not use his divine sense, and he would not approach within 100 meters of the hall. The distance to the hall was a thirty-minute journey, and he would give them all a twenty-eight-minute head start.
Feng Zhiming felt a conflict brewing within him. His cultivation manual had gifted him with unorthodox techniques—methods that were unconventional even by the standards of the demonic path. One such technique was the Art of Demonic Suppression, which he had used to hide from the fourth-order demon beast after poisoning it.
However, the technique wasn’t foolproof. If a Spiritual Awakening cultivator actively used divine sense to search for him, the technique wouldn’t be able to fully conceal him. Despite this, Feng Zhiming knew he could likely ace this test—but at what cost? Drawing attention might not be wise, yet this was also a critical opportunity to leave the sect without fear of repercussions.
“I need to get out of the sect no matter the cost,” he resolved. “Being predictable is what will cause the most deaths in this game.”
Lunar Vigil gave the command. “Start.”
Feng Zhiming wasted no time, slipping into one of the narrow alleyways and donning the tattered black robe from his storage ring. He took flight, heading toward the hall.
Twenty-seven minutes and fifty-five seconds later, Feng Zhiming landed softly on the ground, activating the Art of Demonic Suppression. “This isn’t a contest of speed,” he reminded himself. “Flying fast won’t help me here.”
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He moved cautiously, relying on stealth rather than speed. As he made his way toward the hall, a sudden notification flashed in his mind.
[Participant 73 has been eliminated. Cause of elimination: suicide.]
[Elimination Count Rankings]
No.1 (Participant 33): 1 elimination
No.2: N/A
[Remaining participants: 98]
Feng Zhiming was momentarily stunned. Suicide was exceedingly rare among cultivators, who valued longevity above all else. For a cultivator to take their own life, it was a sign of utter despair, a situation so dire that even the hope of immortality couldn’t sustain them.
“Someone received credit for the elimination,” Feng Zhiming thought, his eyes narrowing. “Which means someone in this game has methods to force others into suicide.”
He dismissed the idea of conventional torture—it wouldn’t make sense to keep a competitor alive just to break them. This was something else, a calculated cruelty designed to push someone to the brink. “A demented dunce,” he concluded, disgusted. “This person doesn’t care about winning—just causing suffering.”
As he continued toward the hall, Feng Zhiming noticed how the sect resembled a regular city. Beggars lined the streets, and children walked alongside their mothers. It was easy to forget, in such a setting, that this was a stronghold of demonic cultivators.
Elsewhere, two of the Ethereal Core cultivators from earlier had decided to rely on their speed rather than stealth. “I know he’s powerful, but I don’t believe he’ll catch us with a twenty-eight-minute head start,” one of them said confidently.
“Even if he does catch up, we can split up. He’ll have to chase one of us, and the other will make it,” the other agreed.
A minute passed after their head start, and Lunar Vigil had not yet caught up. “Haha, it seems like he wasn—”
The first cultivator’s words were cut short. In the world of cultivation, there was a distinct feeling one got in the face of imminent death, a combination of helplessness and inevitability. Both cultivators were struck by this feeling, and a refined killing intent pierced their minds like a blade.
There was no time to react. A flash of light appeared beside them, striking both in the neck and knocking them out before they could even comprehend what had happened. The noise of the attack arrived after both had already been incapacitated—a speed that surpassed the sound barrier.
Lunar Vigil was unbelievably fast, even for a Spiritual Awakening cultivator. “That’s all the fools taken care of,” he muttered to himself, turning his attention to those who had attempted to hide.
…
Feng Zhiming was only a minute away from the hall. As he walked through the sect, he kept his ears open, listening to the conversations around him. Knowing the small talk and gossip within the sect would help him blend in, should he need to.
He overheard tales of the Matriarch’s heroism, how she had supposedly carved out the entire valley from scratch to establish the sect. There were stories of the five Primal Demons, who struck fear into the hearts of all orthodox cultivators, and even tales of the mysterious Heavenly Demon, a prophetic figure within their culture.
“It’s said the Heavenly Demon will lead the entire sect,” someone was saying. “He’ll possess knowledge beyond compare, a completely unique existence with platinum blond hair and eyes that shine lik—”
Feng Zhiming inhaled sharply, his breath catching in his throat. For a split second, it felt as if someone had seen straight through him, down to his very core.
He lost control of his Demonic Suppression technique for a brief moment before reactivating it, but the lapse had already caught the attention of Lunar Vigil, who suddenly appeared in front of him.
Feng Zhiming held his breath, standing as still as possible. If Lunar Vigil turned to look at him, he would be exposed for sure. The Art of Demonic Suppression nearly erased his presence, but it wasn’t foolproof. If directly observed, its effects would shatter.
Lunar Vigil paused, his gaze sweeping the area. Feng Zhiming’s heart pounded in his chest, but he remained motionless, willing his mind to stay calm. The killing intent radiating from Lunar Vigil was not simple—it was refined into a weapon capable of killing with a mere thought.
After what felt like an eternity, Lunar Vigil moved on. Feng Zhiming waited until he was sure the supervisor had left before stepping into the safe zone, just 100 meters from the Divine Demon Hall. The hall itself came into full view—less grand than the name suggested, but its simplicity had a certain charm.
“Well done,” a voice sounded from within the building.