Rachel exited her office with a frown. The perfected Moon Lotus Cultivation Technique was harder to cultivate than she had expected. It was because the Moon Lotus Cultivation Technique’s flaws stemmed from the beginning. If she had been given this perfected technique from the start, she would’ve advanced into the realm of false immortals by now. However, it was a shame she had been given it after her foundation was firmly established. To properly learn the new technique, she had to carefully tear down her foundational pillars and replace them with ones based on the new skills. It was an arduous process. As for whether or not she was planning on sharing it with the sect; of course, she wasn’t. There were only so many extinct plants. Images of Grandpa Vremya flashed into her mind. If he had been given the techniques…. A moment later, the sect leader shook her head. Grandpa Vremya was a male. It didn’t matter.

“Sect Leader, you’re going to view the inner-disciple promotion exam?”

Rachel turned her head. Elder Formation was beside her. It seemed like the elder had just left her office as well. “Vremya is competing,” Rachel said as if her words were all the explanation she needed.

A wry smile appeared on Elder Formation’s face. “How do you think he’s going to do?” she asked. Her personal disciple was acting as the gatekeeper to becoming a core disciple. There wasn’t anything honorable about that position, and a disciple could only lose by taking it. If they won, they beat someone who was weak. If they lost, they were beat by someone who was weak. The reward for becoming the gatekeeper was quite high as a result.

Rachel snorted. Judging by Grandpa Vremya’s previous actions, Rachel could confidently say she knew absolutely nothing about what he’d do next. Instead of adventuring out into the world like most disciples who reached the foundation-establishment stage, the man had become a wine brewer instead. The first time she heard about it, she was tempted to ban all forms of alcohol, but the elders probably would’ve quietly left the sect if that happened. “Vremya will be Vremya. Who the hell knows if he’ll even show up?”

Didn’t you just say he was competing? Elder Formation wanted to ask but figured it was better for her health if she didn’t. “You’re right,” she said and nodded. Hopefully, Grandpa Vremya wouldn’t show up. The elders had been keeping track of his cultivation, but there wasn’t anything exceptional about the speed. However, considering the method Grandpa Vremya used to breakthrough to the foundation-establishment stage, no one knew how strong the man actually was. Since there were rules against oppression, none of them could send out disciples to probe him either.

It didn’t take long for Rachel to get to the competition grounds, showing up right before the event was about to begin. Her eyes scanned over the crowd, and a sigh of relief escaped from her mouth when she located Grandpa Vremya. He was sitting in the participants’ area with his eyes closed. For some reason, the man’s eyes always seemed to be closed whenever she saw him. Despite the fact he wasn’t cultivating the Moon Lotus Technique, the man had even less of an interest in the world than those who had severed their emotions. It was a shame he wasn’t a woman, and it was a shame there weren’t any techniques to truly change someone’s gender. If they existed, the sect still wouldn’t have any male disciples.

The competition was straightforward. The disciples would get on stage, and they would fight each other. Only the outer disciples who had reached the foundation-establishment stage—and those who petitioned and received a signature from an elder—were allowed to take part. Half of them would become inner disciples. The number of fights they had to partake in was determined by how many disciples were attending the competition. The strong would naturally rise to the top as no one would waste their strength against an opponent they couldn’t defeat. As for testing things like the disciples’ proficiencies in the seven arts? What a joke. The cultivation world was largely dependent on strength regardless of what the floating words in her eyes said. Speaking of which, it had been a while since she had been assigned a new mission, but it didn’t matter. She was still training in the perfected technique anyway.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The referee climbed up to the stage and skipped the formalities. Everyone knew the sect leader wasn’t fond of them. The referee reached into a sphere and pulled out two balls which had the names of two people written on them. “Vremya and Stacy.”

Grandpa Vremya jumped onto the stage with his eyes still closed. He waved his hand, and a set of armor appeared beside him. Spiritual energy lit up the surface of the armor like lines on a formation. The set of armor took a step forward, blocking Grandpa Vremya from his opponent’s view.

“A golem?” the elders muttered, causing Rachel to frown. Grandpa Vremya’s chosen path to ascension was just too strange for her to comprehend. No one in the Moon Lotus Sect even taught golem creation. It was widely known as a useless method, and in the whole continent, no one even counted it as part of the seven arts. There were too many downsides to using a golem compared to raising a spirit beast.

“Begin!”

Stacy’s eyes flashed, and she waved her sword at the golem charging at her. An icy blast jettisoned from the blade and struck the armor, but instead of slowing down, the armor sped up even further and thrust forwards with its gauntlet, its fingers shaped into a fist. The sudden increase in velocity caught Stacy off guard. It wasn’t uncommon for people to move slower than they usually could to throw off their opponent’s estimations of their speed, but she had never heard of a golem intelligent enough to do that. She raised her sword to parry the punch, but the golem’s strength was simply too overwhelming. Her sword crashed into her chest, and the gauntlet behind it struck her shortly after as well. From the spectators’ area, Azalea grimaced as she was struck by a pang of sympathy. Stacy was launched out of the arena from the force behind the punch, and she couldn’t reorient herself before touching the ground offstage.

“Victor,” the referee shouted and gestured with her hand towards Grandpa Vremya. “Vremya!”

The participants sucked in cold breaths. Stacy wasn’t weak by any measure. She had experienced great fortune in the past year, advancing from the qi-condensation stage straight to the third stage of foundation establishment. Everyone had expected her to get at least top five in the competition, but she was defeated by a single punch?

“That’s the Frostwind Empire’s armor,” a participant said with a furrowed brow. “It’s made from frostwind metal, and it can block attacks weaker than a golden-core cultivator’s strike without an issue.”

The participants were dismayed upon hearing the woman’s words. Even Rachel’s expression was darkening. The man was so exceptionally skilled in cultivation, but whenever it came time to compete, he was always bullying the competition! First, he had used a turtle shell that none of his competitors could break back when he was still a newcomer. Now, he was using an armor that none of the competitors could hope to damage? Logically, it was the most efficient way to do things, and the nascent soul inside of her agreed with the way he did things. However, sometimes, things shouldn’t be done logically. One day, Grandpa Vremya was going to smack the face of someone he couldn’t offend, and then he’d be in trouble. Rachel hoped she would be there to witness that day.

The referee waited until Grandpa Vremya left the stage before reaching into the ball container. An awkward expression appeared on her face as she read the names. “Lucy and Vremya!”

Grandpa Vremya jumped onto the stage once more. With a wave of his hand, the golem appeared again. However, his opponent didn’t show up. “I surrender,” a voice said from the participants’ seating area. Lucy wasn’t a moron. The only thing she’d receive by fighting that golem was an injury. If it were any other competition, she wouldn’t mind competing for the sake of competing, but this competition lasted for multiple rounds. She couldn’t afford to be injured.

Grandpa Vremya’s brow furrowed, and before he got off the stage, he swept his gaze over the crowd. “Is anyone going to fight? If not, I’m not going to waste my energy getting on and off the stage.”

Azalea buried her face in her hands. It was no wonder why Grandpa Vremya was always hanging out with her. He simply didn’t have the tact inside of him to make friends with anyone else. Who else would mercilessly crush the pride of their competitors like that? He was bound to draw some people’s ire simply because they thought he was relying on a golem. As Azalea expected, a woman in the participants’ seating area climbed to her feet. “Do you dare to fight me without using your armor?”

“If you can’t even defeat my golem, then there’s no way you can defeat me,” Grandpa Vremya said and snorted. “You want to fight me? Beat my golem first. If not, sit down.”

The woman could only grit her teeth and sit down. What else could she do? Get clobbered by the set of armor? Where was the justice in the world?

***

“Sorry,” Pravos muttered.

“What was that?” Karta asked, her ears perking up to hear better.

Pravos shook her head. “Nothing. I was just talking to myself.”