Treasure Blue Beaver Blessed Land, Competition grounds

The air crackled with tension as the chaos on the stage escalated. The entangling roots, like serpents of the earth, disrupted the Wen clan's formation, entwining their gu masters and extinguishing their once-glowing life marking flares. Some managed to break free from the clutches of the roots, their nimble movements preserving their flickering vitality. However, others remained pinned to the ground, their hopes held captive by the writhing tendrils.

In the midst of the Wen clan's struggle to regain their balance and launch a counterattack, an unforeseen twist unfolded. From the crimson waters of the battleground, a colossal wave surged forth with an overwhelming force, hurtling toward the immobilized gu masters.

The wave crashed upon them with a bone-shattering impact, leaving those unable to evade it to bear the full brunt of its merciless power.

A cacophony of outrage erupted from the spectators on both sides, their voices merging into a tempest of anger and disbelief.

"Water path? They used water path?"

"The Bao clan resorts to such treachery! Their honor is tarnished!"

"Underhanded! Despicable!"

"Shame on the Bao clan! They've betrayed their own principles!"

"What dignity is in victory if they had to throw it away before the conclusion."

"Unfair advantage! The Wen clan deserves justice!"

Accusations filled the air as the Wen clan's supporters decried the underhanded tactics of the Bao clan's water path method.

Although there was no such rule that Bao clan could only use wood path methods, everyone knew that Bao clan only promoted and endorsed wood path for their members.

"Bao clan will triumph, no matter the path!"

"My Bao clan is righteous! How did this water path demonic gu master get into this competition?"

"The ends justify the means! Bao clan is fighting to win!"

The once-proud gu masters of Bao clan's noble wood path felt a mix of shame and satisfaction, torn between their principles and the undeniable advantage gained.

The clash of emotions reverberated through the crowd, splitting them into opposing factions, their voices clashing like a symphony of discord.

Amidst the tumultuous uproar and the clash of voices, two figures emerged as beacons of attention. Their life marking flares blazed like stars amidst the chaos, drawing the gaze of both friend and foe.

Zhao Min, calm and composed, wielded the entangling roots with an artistry born of deep-rooted connection. Each twist and turn of his command birthed a formidable wall green, shielding him from the onslaught that sought to pierce his defenses.

Beside him stood Yu Lingxin, whose powers surged forth like a mighty torrent. She summoned forth a barrier of liquid fortitude, using a sizeable chunk of her primeval essence to repel the relentless barrage of ice and wind projectiles aimed in her direction. The impact of each collision rippled across the surface, as waves danced and cascaded in harmonious chaos.

The gu masters of the Wen clan, their spirits aflame with determination and vengeance, directed their wrathful might towards these two singular adversaries.

Their attacks were fierce, a torrent of blows meant to bring down those who dared to claim what was rightfully theirs.

Landing just a single hit would diminish their targets life marking flares by half, bringing great gains to whoever succeeded in hitting Zhao Min or Yu Lingxin.

Long-range assaults, honed with deadly precision, pierced the air as projectiles sought to pierce the defenses the Bao clan's gu masters erected that guarded the two.

Yet, the two of them held their ground, their focus unwavering, as they deflected, repelled, and regrouped.

Zhao Min's roots, scorched and battered, sprang forth anew, undeterred by the onslaught that sought to sever their connection to the earth's below. The struggle was fierce, each blow exchanged chipped away at their primeval essence, but still they pressed on, determined to protect the gains they had secured.

In the midst of the unfolding battle, a moment of dire need beckoned forth the call of Zhao Min, his voice resolute and commanding.

"Ye Jianhong, the time has come!"

The eager Ye Jianhong, filled with a fervor that surpassed the dangers of conflict, stood before his comrades, ready to unleash his might.

Unyielding and unbothered by the perils that loomed, Ye Jianhong embraced his purpose, his transformation commencing with a vibrant green hue that gradually transformed into the solemn, weathered bark of an ancient tree.

His frame expanded and elongated, reaching towering heights of twelve feet.

A giant treeman stood in his place, a spectacle that demanded attention and drew all eyes upon him. His chest swelled with pride, akin to a peacock amidst a flock of humble chickens, as he proclaimed with valor.

"Witness my greatness!"

Stolen novel; please report.

The impact of his presence was immediate, as the focus of their adversaries shifted towards Ye Jianhong, diverting their aggression away from Zhao Min and Yun Lingxin with success.

Yet, as the onslaught of attacks rained upon the colossal treeman, a realization dawned upon Ye Jianhong. Though his towering form shielded him from grave injuries, the life marking flare above his head continued to diminish with each blow, an unwelcome revelation that shattered his initial assumptions.

"Oh no!" - Ye Jianhong exclaimed, a note of concern echoing through his voice.

The transformative abilities that granted him an advantage in conventional combat seemed to falter within the confines of this unique contest, owing to the peculiar nature of the life marking flares that hung above them.

"Defend yourself, you fool!" - Zhao Min's admonishment cut through the chaos, urging Ye Jianhong to adapt.

With swift determination, the treeman raised his mighty forearms, intercepting and deflecting the attacks aimed at him.

Each calculated movement became a testament to his understanding, for as long as he successfully parried or evaded the attacks, the life marking flare above his head remained unscathed.

Understanding dawned upon him as he grasped the intricacies of the situation. Merely defending passively would not suffice, for the life marking flare would still wane. Reacting swiftly to each assault became the key to preserving his life marking flare.

A sly smile curled upon Ye Jianhong's distorted treeman visage, an embodiment of newfound knowledge and strategy.

It was time for him to seize the initiative, to shift the tides of battle in their favor once and for all.

With resolute conviction, he readied himself to unleash a counterattack that would echo through the records of this conflict, he charged ahead fearlessly!

Among the spectators at Wen clan's side, Wen Qinyang perched at the precipice of her seat, her eyes fixed upon the unfolding scene.

Bao clan's surge of power had definitively tipped the scales in their favor, leaving the Wen clan reeling in the face of adversity. Her gaze shifted, her heart pounding with trepidation, as the colossal treeman wreaked havoc upon the battlefield, trampling through the ranks of the Wen clan's gu masters.

In this chaotic dance of conflict, whenever the situation seemed uncertain, about to turn even in Wen clan's favor, an enigmatic figure, veiled in shadow, deftly weaved through the combatants, disrupting the coordinated efforts by landing decisive sneak attacks.

Qinyang's breath hitched as she bore witness to Wen Tu's valiant struggle, his form gradually being pushed back with each relentless assault. The stage, once vast, now seemed suffocatingly small, leaving the gu masters of the Wen clan teetering on the precipice of a dire predicament.

Bao clan's forces, unified in their purpose, step by step advanced along the formidable Ye Jianhong, seeking shelter behind its towering presence while launching calculated offensives.

In the midst of her worry, Qinyang found herself biting nervously on her nails, a testament to the weight of her concern for Wen Tu's well-being.

A voice, as cold and distant as the winter winds, interrupted her restless contemplations.

"It may be too late for hesitation." - Wen Hao Jiong spoke, her words bearing an air of detached indifference.

With an expression devoid of warmth, she extended two peculiar gu worms towards Qinyang's trembling hands.

Curiosity mingled with apprehension as Qinyang questioned the nature of these gu.

Wen Hao Jiong, in her customary brevity, provided a brief explanation.

One gu resembled a moth, its delicate wings dotted with countless round perforations, known as the rank five beggar moth gu. It possessed the ability to store primeval essence, a hidden reservoir of power for a gu master.

The other gu, a crimson eight-legged mantis, was a creation of Wen Hao Jiong herself, aptly named the burning mind flame gu.

As the weight of her decision bore down upon her, Qinyang's mind teetered on the edge of uncertainty. Her gaze flickered between the offered gu worms, contemplating their potential implications and the role they could play in this tumultuous struggle.

Qinyang's gaze flitted anxiously between the amassed life marking flares of the competing clans, their radiance a testament to the impending arrival of the rank three gu masters. The weight of uncertainty settled upon her like a heavy fog, obscuring the path ahead.

How long could Wen Tu, a mere rank two gu master, hold his ground amidst the onslaught when faced with rank three experts? The odds seemed impossibly stacked against him, the likelihood of his endurance waning with the imminent entry of these seasoned experts into the fray.

A sigh, laced with resolve, escaped her lips, a flicker of determination kindling within her.

With no more hesitation, Qinyang reached out and accepted the proffered gu worms, cradling them in her hands. Her eyes bore into the immortal figure of Wen Hao Jiong, a demand for guidance resonating in her voice.

"Tell me, then, how do I use these gu?" - Her words carried an undertone of urgency in the face of impending conflict.

Wen Hao Jiong, her countenance unyielding, met Qinyang's gaze with an inscrutable stare. Her response, terse yet informative, revealed the essence of the gu worms' abilities.

"The burning mind flame kindles swift thinking, igniting thoughts into an inferno that guides decisions amidst the chaos of combat." - She spoke with measured brevity.

"As for the beggar moth, it's a reserve of primeval essence, supplementing your own methods without impeding their use."

But before further instruction could be imparted, a resounding chime resonated through the air, its ethereal timbre piercing the mounting tension.

The arrival of the rank three gu masters loomed ever closer.

Wen Hao Jiong flicked her hand, and Qinyang was transported away in a flash at once.

Wen Hao Meng, his patience exhausted, could no longer contain the torrent of questions and frustrations that swelled within him. His voice raised, demanding answers from his mother, Wen Hao Jiong.

His eyes, filled with a mixture of confusion and reproach, searched for understanding in the depths of her immortal gaze.

"Mother! I want you to tell me!" - He began, his words carrying the weight of his emotions. "Why? Why have you made this web of trials for her? Are you the mastermind behind these trials, seeking to make her suffer?"

A wry smile crept across Wen Hao Jiong's lips, her amusement echoing in her laughter. Her voice, distant and laced with a mocking undertone, rippled through the air, drawing the attention of her son.

"Why?" - She mused, as if pondering a riddle.

"Since when have I been barred from testing the mettle of my son's intended? I have extended a helping hand, offered a chance for her to prove her worth. If, perchance, she fails, it shall be a testament to her own shortcomings."

Wen Hao Meng's mind swirled with a tumultuous mix of emotions, caught between his unwavering affection for Qinyang and the unsettling truth of his mother's intentions.

He longed for her survival, yearning for them to be reunited. Yet, uncertainty clouded his thoughts, leaving him with a bittersweet hope that seemed to flicker like a fragile flame in the wind as he set his gaze back on the stage.

Meanwhile, Wen Hao Jiong reveled in her own self-assuredness, a smug satisfaction lingering in her thoughts.

"Soon this wench is removed from the picture. I don't know what methods you used to preserve your life, but it will not work again."

Wen Hao Jiong's mind echoed with a cruel certainty, her thought laced with a disdainful contempt for the woman she viewed as an interloper.

"This wench will be swept away, expunged from the ranks of existence." - She mused, her thoughts dripping with venomous intent.

The depths of her knowledge obscured, she pondered the mysterious means by which Qinyang had preserved her life, vowing that such methods would prove futile this time.

Her ambitions loomed large, overshadowing any semblance of maternal compassion for her son, as she eagerly awaited the day when she could reclaim and control Hao Meng again, solidifying her dominance over his future.

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