Chapter Forty-One: The Trial Begins

“This year, there will be three consecutive trials in the Illusory Realm, each spaced half a year apart. Achieving a total of ten points across the three trials is considered passing. Those who fail to reach ten points will be expelled from the sect. In these trials, defeating a fellow disciple counts as one point.”

A grand voice echoed throughout the valley, stirring more than thirty thousand disciples at the Blood Qi stage into restless excitement. The strong among them wore expressions of eagerness, while the weaker ones looked ashen and defeated.

“All of you have been in the sect for three to four years. It’s only fitting to gather you together for this Illusory Realm trial.”

The gates of the Illusory Valley slowly opened, and under the guidance of the chief guard, the thirty thousand disciples entered the realm.

“In the Illusory Realm, your soul and consciousness will manifest as an entity equal to your own strength. Fight freely and without restraint—use any means you possess.”

Xu Chen sat cross-legged upon a meditation cushion, gazing at the immense array of the illusion formation.

“Brother Xu, let’s team up once we’re inside!” Niu Dali said excitedly.

“Alright.”

“Focus and steady your mind—the formation is about to activate.”

Dense patterns glowed with spiritual light, spreading rapidly outward. In the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the entire valley was enveloped. Then, a wave of blue mist emerged from the formation, covering every disciple.

“Inhale the mist to enter the Illusory Realm.”

As the chief’s voice sounded, Xu Chen felt his consciousness blur. When he regained his senses, he found himself atop a mountain peak.

The peak soared a thousand feet high, and from its summit, Xu Chen could overlook the entire Illusory Realm.

“This is a conspicuous place—I’d better descend quickly.”

“I wonder how I’ll find Brother Niu.”

Just then, a gust of palm wind swept toward him from behind, carrying a faint floral fragrance.

Xu Chen turned, easily dodging the attack, then spun and struck the would-be assailant’s chest with a palm.

A slender figure staggered back over a dozen paces, clutching her chest and looking at Xu Chen with a troubled expression.

“Sister, ambushing others is wrong.”

Xu Chen smiled at the Flower Spirit disciple whose beauty rivaled moonlit blossoms. The sensation of that palm was quite pleasant. Through their brief exchange, Xu Chen gauged her skill—she possessed the strength of seven tigers, making the fight effortless for him.

“I underestimated you, Brother Xu. Until we meet again.”

The Flower Spirit disciple floated down the mountain, her skirt fluttering in the wind like a butterfly among flowers.

“Sister, it seems you’ve forgotten where we are.”

Xu Chen swiftly caught up and, with a few palms, rendered her powerless to resist.

“Brother Xu, let me go! I’ll reward you handsomely in the future,” the Flower Spirit disciple pleaded, her eyes wide with pitiful appeal.

“No need for rewards. Sister, just accept your fate.”

Xu Chen struck her head, his force penetrating the skull and stirring the brain.

The Flower Spirit disciple dissolved into spiritual light, and a number appeared in Xu Chen’s left palm.

“Not bad luck—the first one I met was so weak.”

Most disciples who’d joined the sect three or four years ago possessed at least the strength of six tigers, except for himself, who had entered through the back door. Some gifted ones had even advanced to the Treasure Body stage.

Xu Chen descended the mountain, yet before reaching the base, encountered another disciple.

The male disciple eyed Xu Chen with anticipation, his face aglow with excitement. After all, someone as seemingly weak as Xu Chen was a rarity.

“Brother, if we’re to fight, let’s not waste time.”

“In that case, I’ll gladly test your skills.”

A figure shot toward Xu Chen.

“Bang!”

Palm met fist. The tremendous force made Xu Chen retreat more than ten paces to absorb the shock.

“Nine tigers’ strength—not bad, I can manage,” Xu Chen calculated silently.

After exchanging blows, the disciple rubbed his hand, showed no hesitation, and immediately sprinted away.

“Brother, until fate brings us together again!”

His voice echoed from afar.

“That one’s a clever man,” Xu Chen remarked, smiling at his retreating figure.

Through sparring with Niu Dali, Xu Chen had gained a deep understanding of his own abilities. Though his strength was low, his combat experience far surpassed that of his peers.

“Keep a low profile. Once I gather ten points, I’ll hide.”

Beyond the mountain was a boundless plain, offering no escape.

Standing on the plain, Xu Chen noticed several streaks of golden light in the distance.

“Golden-armored Thunder Bulls—let’s see if Brother Niu is among them.”

As Xu Chen approached, the thunder bulls grew wary.

“Little Dali, this human disciple is weak. He’s yours,” a hearty voice sounded.

Xu Chen’s eyes brightened at the words.

“Brothers, don’t misunderstand—I’m here to find Brother Niu Dali,” Xu Chen said politely, keeping a safe distance from the thunder bulls.

“We have three Dalis here. Which one are you looking for?” The lead thunder bull was even more imposing than Niu Dali, his presence overwhelming.

“What?”

Xu Chen had known most Thunder Bulls bore the surname Niu, but hadn’t expected so many to share the name Dali.

He glanced around but saw no sign of his friend. Preparing to withdraw, he remained cautious.

The Thunder Bull clan was strong but slow; even if entangled, Xu Chen was confident he could escape.

“It seems the Brother Niu I seek isn’t here. Farewell, brothers,” Xu Chen said, slowly retreating.

“Trying to leave?”

“Brother, it’s best you stay put.”

The lead thunder bull produced a short axe and hurled it at Xu Chen.

The axe was swift and accurate, but Xu Chen, a battle-hardened veteran, dodged it with ease.

Spreading his legs, Xu Chen ran toward the distance.

The group of Thunder Bulls tossed four or five more axes, but Xu Chen, discerning their trajectory by the wind, evaded every one.

“These are much slower than the fists of the Holy Ape’s Sixfold Shadow technique.”

“Why do these Thunder Bulls have axes? Isn’t this supposed to be the Illusory Realm?”

Xu Chen traversed the vast grassland, occasionally spotting other disciples. Yet all were cautious, exchanging only distant glances.

“I wonder where Brother Niu is. With everyone so cautious, it’s impossible to chase them down for a fight.”

Just as Xu Chen muttered to himself, a figure suddenly burst from the grass nearby, a sharp dagger aimed straight at his throat.

“Damn!”

Xu Chen reacted instantly, dodging the strike and unleashing a twelvefold wave palm. His force penetrated flesh, severing every meridian.

The dagger-wielding disciple collapsed like a pile of mud, staring at Xu Chen in disbelief.

“How did you spot me?” he asked, desperate for clarity before his defeat.

“I didn’t. You were simply too weak and revealed too many flaws when striking.” Xu Chen picked up the dagger, examining it.

“Weak? I have the strength of eight tigers and six bulls! If not for your strange force, I’d have eliminated you already.” The fallen disciple grew enraged.

“I’ll answer one question if you answer one of mine. How did you bring this dagger into the realm?” Xu Chen crouched down, curiosity in his eyes.

“Hmph, why should I tell you? Just finish me off!” The disciple’s face was filled with defiance.

“There are many ways to die—it depends on whether you cooperate.”

Xu Chen pressed the dagger against the soft spot beneath the disciple’s ribs.