Chapter Sixty: The Grand District Competition

District Tournament, Individual Round.

“I thought your Eagle Academy would finally produce something different this year, but it turns out to be just as disappointing as ever.”

Hao Tianlin gazed at Zou Xiuzhen before him, her eyebrows arched slightly. Spiritual energy flowed from her hand like surging water, controlling every formation on the dueling platform.

Zou Xiuzhen, drenched in sweat, struggled to regain control of the formations, gritting his teeth to hold on, but he was on the verge of collapse.

“The formations are novel, unprecedented even, but what use is that if you lack the spiritual power to sustain them?”

Qin Yuan, still in his youth, hadn’t truly expected her to say anything; he merely wanted to distract her, to let her body relax. Yet that unreasonable trust made him disregard Xina’s actions. If not for her, this battle would have been far more difficult than he had ever imagined. He could only take this one last gamble.

“Another batch of lookers who won’t buy,” she sighed, glancing toward the door and waiting for new customers.

Qin Yuan’s smile was even more brilliant than his own. He thought to himself that Brother Tiger was foolish; if his deputy was so confident, would he be so anxious?

An old man and a youth stood together, their features betraying a striking resemblance. Taishi Kun pondered for a moment—wasn’t this old scholar the very physician who once sat surrounded by all manner of whips in the east men’s apothecary of Qinghe County? If that was so, then this must be Ximen Qing’s father, Ximen Da.

It wasn’t just a matter of being a novice—it was a direct path to the Great Ascension. Compared to the creator of the Heavenly Demon Godslayer, this level was no less accomplished. I couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sympathy for the martial art’s inventor.

In fact, the moment a band of mercenaries set sail from Tianjing City for Goryeo, rumors of the affair had already begun to spread like wildfire throughout the martial world.

In short, Zhao Pu was only seventeen, not yet of age to officially govern, yet he had already begun to take the reins of power. Still so young, and though these ministers of forty or fifty voiced their deference, they secretly harbored disdain for him.

Though Xu Chenjun was now well acquainted with all six of Tara’s companions, he always believed that an uncut gem remains unremarkable until it has experienced enough to understand the true value of things.

The other two suddenly came to their senses and hurriedly sent the highest alert signal to the foot of the sacred mountain not far away.

“But according to what I found out, when the California arrived, aside from the crew and three thousand wool blankets, there wasn’t a single passenger on board. Don’t you think that’s too much of a coincidence? Just enough to accommodate all the people from the Titanic?” Lin Ruofeng replied.

“Hmph, don’t worry. Hide behind me in a moment and nothing will happen to you!” declared the young king of the Tianbei Clan. He was even younger than the young master of Tianzhao, yet had already become king, his strength and arrogance evident in his brash words.

A few days ago, a member of the Celestial Soul Clan arrived in the town of Eternal Life, selling Fallen Crystal Flowers in the marketplace.

“What I do is none of your concern,” Zhang Zhen replied coldly. With Qingluo, he knew he had to maintain a certain degree of authority; if she was too spoiled, she would be difficult to manage.

Lin Feng was, for a moment, at a loss for words. As the foremost prodigy of the Spirit Clan and a member of the Lin family’s inner circle, he had heard rumors of these matters.

In the stands, the crowd erupted once again. The looks of resignation on the faces of the other Bulls players said it all—Lin Ruofeng’s popularity at home eclipsed all of theirs combined.

Ever since the last flagship manga concluded, the Tokyo Manga Society had faced an awkward gap, unable to produce a new hit to fill the void.

From the Southern Dynasty, Xiao Gang recited: “Round masses emerge beyond the sky, brilliant upon the highest peaks, their light rises and falls with the waves, their shadows chase the deepening shade beneath the trees.”

The power of the Demon God was mysterious and formidable. In battling all manner of demon god weapons, it forged true holy authority. Threads of sacred radiance began to shimmer as the Nether River Adept’s face lit with joy. Looking up at the demon weapons suspended in the sky, his expression grew ever more resolute.

The ability to advance came as no surprise to Liu Hai. After all, he was already at the peak of the fifth-rank lower Martial God, with one foot already across the threshold into the sixth rank.