Chapter 37

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Chapter 37: The Killing Arena

As daylight flooded the sky, countless disciples rushed along mountain paths toward the Martial Hall.

Clad in a teal robe, Ye Yun exhaled deeply, pushed open his door, and smiled faintly at the rising sun before heading to the Martial Hall.

“Brother Ye Yun!”

A familiar voice called out as a blue-robed youth sprinted toward him.

“Yu Minghong.” Ye Yun turned, nodding with a smile.

“Brother Ye looks well! You’ll surely make the top eight,” Yu Minghong said cheerfully, trailing a step behind rather than walking beside him.

Ye Yun glanced back. “Reaching the top eight might bring more trouble than gain.”

Yu Minghong froze, then whispered, “Brother Ye… you also suspect something’s off about this trial?”

Ye Yun nodded. “Anyone with sense would think so now.”

“Then… will you still fight for the top eight?” Yu Minghong hesitated, eyeing him.

“The elders see clearer than we do. Hiding our strength’s pointless.”

Ye Yun shrugged. “Unless I meet unbeatable opponents, I’ll push for the top eight—maybe even top three.”

“Understood. Thank you, Brother Ye.” Yu Minghong’s nod carried resolve.

_He thinks the same? Does he believe he can enter the top eight too?_ Ye Yun dismissed the thought and sped toward the Martial Hall plaza.

Thousands of outer disciples already crowded the plaza. Though morning held no matches, none wanted to miss the spectacle.

When Ye Yun arrived with Yu Minghong, nearly all New Outer Disciples stood in murmuring clusters.

“Took you long enough.” Duan Chenfeng’s voice boomed across the square as he materialized before Ye Yun.

“I waited outside for an incense stick’s time. Couldn’t make my grand entrance without you!” Duan Chenfeng smirked, eyebrows arched.

“My arrival concerns you how?” Ye Yun replied flatly.

“The strongest must appear last! No you, no me!” Duan Chenfeng’s laughter echoed shamelessly across the plaza.

“Your act reeks of falseness.” Ye Yun’s whisper slithered into Duan Chenfeng’s ear alone.

Duan Chenfeng’s eyes narrowed mid-laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know best.” Ye Yun’s cold smile held warning.

“Amusing.” Duan Chenfeng chuckled darkly before roaring again: “Pray we don’t meet early! Then you might scrape into the top eight—Qu Yiping’s no match for you anyway!”

Nearby, Qu Yiping’s eyelid twitched, murderous intent flickering.

“Problem?” Duan Chenfeng taunted, spotting his glare.

“Our match will come.” Qu Yiping’s voice dripped ice.

Duan Chenfeng grinned wolfishly. “Can’t wait to show you true power.”

“Shut up if you don’t want trouble! Elder Chunyu Yan has appeared!”

Several Yellow Robed Disciples shouted fiercely nearby. In their eyes, Duan Chenfeng and Qu Yiping were acting childishly, and they wouldn’t hesitate to teach them a lesson if the pair kept talking.

Ye Yun distanced himself from Duan Chenfeng, not wanting to provoke the Yellow Robed Disciples.

Several elders had now appeared at the front of the plaza, their overwhelming pressure sweeping across the entire space.

Chunyu Yan scanned the crowd and nodded. “Our New Outer Disciples seem ready and eager. Elder Lan, announce the rules.”

Elder Lan stepped forward with a stern face.

“The trial for New Outer Disciples happens every three years. But this time, since the top eight will qualify for sect tasks, the rules differ slightly.”

His gaze swept over the disciples. “Previously, we followed eight words: stop at the point, spare lives. This time, it’s another eight: fight with all your might, regardless of life or death. This is a deadly contest. However, the rewards for reaching the top eight are far richer than before. We expect great things.”

The plaza erupted in chaos. Many found the rule senseless—why risk lives when previous trials determined winners without casualties?

Ye Yun’s heart sank. Without restrictions, holding back would be impossible.

“Elder Lan, must we kill to win?” A new disciple paled.

“No. You simply fight without restraint to reveal true strength,” Elder Lan replied coldly. “If one side surrenders, the match ends. But fake surrenders will earn a one-way trip to the Beast Taming Tower.”

Ye Yun narrowed his eyes and drew a sharp breath. Elder Lan’s words made it clear—no hiding strength. This trial sought only the strongest. But why?

Duan Chenfeng scoffed loudly. “Pity they can surrender. These weaklings waste sect training resources anyway.”

His words drew glares from nearby disciples.

“Looking to die, are you?” An older Yellow Robed Disciple grinned darkly.

“Any further nonsense earns a trip to the Beast Taming Tower,” Elder Lan snapped. A crushing pressure froze the crowd like icy water.

He crossed his arms, and Blue Light flickered.

Eight crystalline platforms carved from unknown jade rose at the Martial Hall’s center, glowing softly under sunlight.

But Ye Yun knew these weren’t art pieces. The Martial Hall’s platforms were bloodstained stages where Tian Zhu Peak disciples settled deadly grudges with higher-ups’ approval.

“Will I end up standing here again after today?”

Ye Yun stared at the shimmering platforms, unafraid. A cold smile touched his lips.