The Central Martial Arena was full of people who had come to watch exciting matches.
Of course, no nobles or anyone of high status were present, as these fights were considered boring to them.
This was usually for weaker cultivators who couldn’t truly enjoy battles between high-level experts—especially when they couldn’t even see them move.
So, the matches between rising geniuses especially at Golden Core Stage was perfect for them.
There were also the families of participants, cheering from the stands.
Nie Fengzhuo stood in the shadowed archway of the waiting area, his arms folded behind his back.
His black-and-silver robe fluttered slightly in the wind, embroidered with the emblem of the Nie Clan—a silver crane soaring amidst storm clouds.
The air was thick with tension, excitement, and the lingering scent of blood from the morning’s earlier rounds.
But Nie Fengzhuo was calm.
Eyes closed, breath steady, he let the ambient noise fade into the background.
Around him, other young cultivators fidgeted, adjusted their weapons, or nervously recited incantations under their breath.
Some stole glances at him, but quickly looked away.
Although Nie Fengzhuo’s fame was nowhere near that of Bai Zihan or Bai Xueqing, he was still well-known among the participants—regarded as one of the strongest in the Public Selection and most likely to win a spot in the main event.
Nie Fengzhuo didn’t care about the attention he received.
After everything he had gone through, he’d learned that how others perceived him wasn’t important.
It was better to focus on himself than waste time on others’ opinions.
Moreover, he felt he was very close—so close—to getting his revenge and avenging his past humiliation.
(Bai Xueqing, I will definitely make you regret it!)
Nie Fengzhuo thought.
The excited chatter in the arena abruptly quieted as a voice boomed from the center platform.
“The third selection round has concluded!”
The announcer, dressed in flowing robes marked with the imperial emblem, floated several feet above the ground, his voice echoing through sound-amplifying formations.
“Next group: Fourth Group! Participants, step forward!”
Nie Fengzhuo opened his eyes.
Sharp. Cold. Focused.
“Finally, my turn!”
He stepped out of the shadows, his long strides calm and confident.
From the opposite side of the arena, four other participants stepped forward—their expressions wary yet resolved.
Whispers ran through the crowd.
“There! It’s Nie Fengzhuo’s turn!”
“Who?”
“You know, the guy who was once engaged to Bai Xueqing!”
“That trash?”
“What trash? Since the annulment of the engagement, he’s advanced by leaps and bounds—they say he’s already in the Nascent Soul Realm. He’s clearly one of the strongest participants.”
“Still, it doesn’t look easy for him to win. The other four seem to have teamed up to deal with Nie Fengzhuo first. Even a Nascent Soul cultivator would struggle against four Golden Core stage opponents at once.”
…
Many attention was instantly attracted as soon as they found that it was Nie Fengzhuo’s turn.
Nie Fengzhuo arrived at the stage, standing still as the referee called out the rules again.
“Group Four! Five participants. Single elimination. All-out battle—only one may remain!”
The referee raised his hand.
“Begin!”
The other four exchanged glances—and as expected, they planned to eliminate Nie Fengzhuo first.
After all, taking out the strongest together before turning on each other gave them the highest chance of winning.
Otherwise, they knew that in a one-on-one fight, they stood no chance against Nie Fengzhuo, who was one realm higher than them.
Nie Fengzhuo merely scoffed.
“Hmph! This will only make it faster.”
Nie Fengzhuo muttered confidently.
Just then, the crowd who was cheeraing wild suddenly went silent.
“Is that… It can’t be!”
“Why woudl he be here?”
“But that is clearly…”
…
Heads turned. Conversations halted.
There were many shocked faces—even the announcer momentarily forgot about the fight, visibly stunned.
Nie Fengzhuo paid no mind to the change in atmosphere, focused entirely on the enemies before him.
Until he heard it.
“The Bai Clan!”
“It’s him—it’s Bai Zihan!!”
“What’s he doing here?”
…
In an instant, Nie Fengzhuo’s entire body tensed.
His eyes snapped toward the direction everyone was looking—and there he was.
Bai Zihan!
Even if he wasn’t entirely sure it was him, the symbol of the Bai Clan on his robes told Nie Fengzhuo everything he needed to know.
“What’s someone from the Bai Clan doing here?”
Nie Fengzhuo muttered under his breath.
He was also well aware of Bai Zihan—there was no way he couldn’t be.
With Bai Zihan’s fame spreading everywhere, even if one were to hide in the most remote village, they would hear one or two things about him.
Bai Zihan was also hailed as the strongest and most talented genius of his generation. Nie Fengzhuo had definitely kept an ear out for him.
Moreover, he was the younger brother of Nie Fengzhuo’s greatest enemy.
(Should I do it?)
Nie Fengzhuo’s fingers twitched as he stared at Bai Zihan, heart pounding with a mix of hatred and impulse.
There was no other reason than the fact that he was from the Bai Clan—the clan he loathed the most.
The same clan that had trampled on his pride and nearly ruined his own family.
His Qi stirred, spiritual energy beginning to pulse as killing intent unconsciously leaked from his body.
But just then—
“Calm down, Fengzhuo.”
A voice echoed in his mind—old, calm, yet stern.
Nie Fengzhuo’s eyes widened slightly.
It was his master!
A shadowy figure slowly emerged within the depths of his spiritual ring, flickering like a candle in the wind.
Draped in tattered robes, his face obscured, he hovered with arms crossed behind his back, gazing at Nie Fengzhuo with timeless, weary eyes.
“You’ve trained so long… endured so much… and now you’re willing to throw it all away for a single moment of emotion?”
Nie Fengzhuo gritted his teeth.
“But he’s from the Bai Clan. He must’ve been sent here for me! I must—”
“Then what?”
The soul voice interrupted sharply.
“Do you want revenge against Bai Xueqing, or do you want to bring down the entire Bai Clan?”
Nie Fengzhuo fell silent.
“If you attack him here, you’ll give them the justification to hunt you down like a dog. You’ll be labeled a criminal and dragged into a war you’re not ready for.”
“You may defeat these weaklings here, but do you really believe you can face the Bai Clan? Do you think you can withstand a clan known to flatten mountains over a single insult?”
Not to mention—he knew Nie Fengzhuo was no match for Bai Zihan.
Even he didn’t expect to feel something strange—an inexplicable feeling from such a young man.
He looked at Bai Zihan. Just another youth he normally wouldn’t bat an eye at.
But something deep inside told him: this one was dangerous.
It was almost funny.
He, an ancient monster who didn’t even feel threatened by most Immortal Realm cultivators, was now feeling this… instinct… from a mere youth.
Nie Fengzhuo clenched his fists, trembling with frustration.
The soul sighed softly.
“You must understand what you truly want. Your goal is Bai Xueqing—not the Bai Clan.”
The soul’s warning was for his disciple’s sake.
The haze in Nie Fengzhuo’s eyes slowly cleared.
He took a deep breath.
And exhaled.
The chaos in his spiritual energy receded as his killing intent vanished. His grip on his sword loosened, and his expression returned to one of icy calm.
He was right.
He wasn’t strong enough yet.
And his goal wasn’t Bai Zihan—it was his older sister.
Nie Fengzhuo nodded to himself and muttered under his breath,
“I know what I want.”
He looked away from Bai Zihan, focusing instead on the four participants who now seemed uncertain—hesitant after feeling the wave of bloodlust that had briefly surrounded him.
Nie Fengzhuo raised his head, his voice cold and clear.
“You four… Don’t disappoint me.”