Elder Zhao's first instinct was to look around the chamber, searching for whichever elder had dared to ambush him in such a disgraceful manner. His gaze swept across his colleagues' faces, expecting to find guilt or defiance, ready to righteously challenge whoever had—
Then his eyes fell on Sect Master Yuan, whose attention remained fixed on the viewing screens, his posture relaxed and contemplative. Only the subtle shift in the air around him indicated that he was the source of the overwhelming pressure that had frozen Elder Zhao in place.
The sight caused the blood to drain from his face.
Not another elder.
Not some peer he could argue with or threaten or negotiate with.
The sect master himself had bound him, had effortlessly crushed his lightning qi like it was nothing more than a child's tantrum.
Elder Zhao felt his knees go weak against the chains. He'd made a mistake. A terrible, catastrophic mistake that could cost him everything he'd spent centuries building.
The silence stretched for what felt like hours but was probably only seconds. When Sect Master Yuan finally spoke, his voice carried the quiet authority of someone who had never needed to raise his voice to be obeyed.
"Elder Zhao." The sect master's tone was conversational, almost pleasant. "Were you planning to steal spoils from a junior?"
Elder Zhao's eyes widened until Chen Yong thought they might actually fall out of his skull. "Sect Master, I…I wasn't…the resource allocation protocols clearly state—"
"Elder Zhao." The repetition of his name cut through the stammering explanation like a blade through silk. "Answer the question."
"I... I was retrieving a sect resource for optimal utilization," Zhao managed, sweat beading on his forehead despite the chamber's comfortable temperature. "The greater good of—"
"Optimal utilization." Sect Master Yuan slowly turned his head, and Chen Yong felt a chill run down his spine as those ancient eyes fixed on Elder Zhao. "Tell me, Elder Zhao, whose cultivation method triggered this transformation? Whose spiritual foundation proved so unique that a shapeshifting creature could not replicate it without destroying itself? Whose dao comprehension was so refined that it turned an enemy's mimicry into our sect's gain?"
Each question landed like a physical blow, and Chen Yong watched Elder Zhao shrink back against his bindings.
"The... the disciple," Zhao whispered.
"Indeed." Sect Master Yuan's gaze remained fixed on the bound elder. "This is not a failed cultivator who transformed randomly and left an ownerless resource. This is the spoils of a junior's victory, earned through his own efforts and paid for with his own blood."
Chen Yong found himself holding his breath. In all his years at the sect, he'd never seen Sect Master Yuan intervene so directly in elder affairs. The man was legendary for his hands-off approach, allowing the council to manage day-to-day operations while he focused on whatever mysterious pursuits occupied Civilization Realm cultivators.
"But Sect Master," Elder Feng said carefully, "surely the sect's interests—"
"The sect's interests," Sect Master Yuan interrupted, still not turning away from Elder Zhao, "are best served by maintaining the principles upon which we were founded. Honor, merit, and the protection of those who serve us faithfully. When we abandon those principles for short-term resource gains, we cease to be a sect and become merely a group of bandits with better robes."
The chains around Elder Zhao tightened, and Chen Yong heard the man gasp in pain.
"The tree belongs to the disciple who earned it," Sect Master Yuan continued. "Any elder who attempts to interfere with his rightful spoils will find themselves explaining their actions to me personally. And I can assure you, that conversation will be far less pleasant than this one."
With that, the sect master returned his attention to the viewing screens, apparently dismissing the entire incident as beneath his further notice. The chains around Elder Zhao dragged him back to his seat with enough force to rattle his teeth, then reformed into shackles that kept him firmly in place.
Chen Yong slowly settled back into his own chair, his heart still racing from the encounter. Around him, the other elders sat in stunned silence, processing what they'd just witnessed. The excitement and avarice that had filled the chamber just minutes before had evaporated, replaced by a careful wariness that spoke to their newfound understanding of where the sect master's boundaries lay.
On the viewing screens, they watched as Ke Yin pressed his palms against the tree's bark and began the absorption process. Chen Yong found himself holding his breath again as his disciple's spiritual signature flared, the tree's massive form gradually becoming translucent as it was drawn into the boy's inner world.
The breakthrough that followed was spectacular.
Chen Yong had witnessed many cultivators advance from Qi Condensation to Pseudo Elemental Realm over the years, but this was different. The energy wave that erupted from Ke Yin's body carried undertones that made Chen Yong's Life Realm cultivation base resonate in harmony. It was the kind of pure, stabilized power that came from having perfect foundations, from building each stage with meticulous care rather than rushing toward advancement.
"Pseudo Elemental Realm," Elder Meng whispered, his voice carrying a mixture of admiration and envy. "At his age, with that level of stability... the boy might actually make it to Civilization Realm someday."
Chen Yong nodded, though his attention was divided between pride in his disciple's achievement and concern about what that achievement might attract. Promising young cultivators had a tendency to draw attention from all quarters, and not all of that attention was benign.
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The battle that followed between Ke Yin and Wu Kangming only reinforced that concern.
Chen Yong watched in fascination as his disciple demonstrated techniques and abilities that seemed to transcend normal cultivation boundaries. The high-speed movement that seemed almost like teleportation, the explosive techniques, the variety of enhancement techniques, it was clear that Ke Yin had access to knowledge and methods that weren't part of any standard curriculum.
"Where did he learn those techniques?" Elder Liu asked quietly. "That pseudo-teleportation method doesn't match anything in our archives."
"The explosive constructs are particularly interesting," Elder Feng added. "I've never seen anything quite like them. The use of the red energy patterns are completely novel."
Chen Yong said nothing, but he could feel the growing attention focused on his disciple. Other elders were taking notes, analyzing Ke Yin's techniques and energies with the kind of interest that usually preceded offers of personal instruction.
The battle continued to escalate and was impressive enough to hold everyone's attention, but Chen Yong found himself thinking ahead to the tournament's structure.
There would be several days between the end of the group stage and the beginning of the individual elimination rounds. During that break, it was traditional for elders who had taken an interest in promising disciples to offer private guidance sessions.
These mentoring periods were one of the most valuable aspects of the tournament for ambitious young cultivators. A few words of advice from a Life Realm expert could save decades of trial and error. Insights into advanced techniques, recommendations for cultivation resources, even simple corrections to fundamental errors, all of these could dramatically accelerate a disciple's development.
Chen Yong had participated in such sessions himself over the centuries, though he typically focused on disciples with potential in formation work rather than combat specialists. It was one of the ways the sect invested in its future, ensuring that talented individuals received the guidance they needed to eventually become elders themselves.
Looking around the observation chamber, he could already see several elders making mental notes about which disciples they intended to approach. Elder Liu was obviously interested in Wei Lin's marketplace cultivation method. Elder Meng had been asking pointed questions about Wu Kangming's sword techniques. Even Elder Wan seemed intrigued by the three prodigies.
And Ke Yin... well, after today's display, his unofficial disciple would undoubtedly receive multiple offers of "additional guidance" from various quarters.
"The boy will be popular during the break," Elder Meng observed, voicing Chen Yong's thoughts. "Techniques like that don't develop in isolation. Someone taught him those methods, and if we can identify the source..."
"We might gain access to similar knowledge," Elder Feng finished. "Yes, I was thinking the same thing. A few strategic conversations during the break period could prove quite illuminating."
Chen Yong felt his stomach tighten. Here it comes again, he thought. The same mentality that had nearly led to the theft of Ke Yin's tree, now focused on extracting his secrets through "strategic conversations" and political pressure.
Just as he was formulating his own response, Sect Master Yuan spoke again.
"No one is to approach Ke Yin or Wu Kangming during the break period."
The statement hung in the air like a physical presence, clear and undeniable. Chen Yong watched as the elders' expressions shifted from interest to confusion to carefully controlled disappointment.
"Sect Master," Elder Meng said cautiously, "surely some guidance would be beneficial for such promising disciples? A few words of encouragement, perhaps some insights into advanced techniques?"
"No one," Sect Master Yuan repeated, his tone carrying the finality of carved stone, "is to approach either disciple. They are to have a complete and undisturbed three days of rest and preparation."
No one dared to argue.
Chen Yong and the other elders continued watching in tense silence, the weight of the sect master's spiritual pressure still pressing against their consciousness like a reminder of their place in the hierarchy.
Fear wasn't too strong a word for what they were feeling, respectful terror, perhaps, but terror nonetheless.
The problem was that none of them truly knew what dao Sect Master Yuan cultivated.
In the cultivation world, there were two competing philosophies about the relationship between dao and personality.
The traditional view held that a person's chosen dao path fundamentally shaped their personality, their worldview, their very essence over time.
A cultivator who pursued the Dao of Fire would naturally develop passionate, impulsive tendencies, their emotions burning bright and quick. Someone following the Dao of Earth became steadfast and patient, sometimes to the point of stubborn inflexibility. Those who walked the Dao of Death often grew detached from mortal concerns, viewing life and death as mere transitions rather than meaningful states.
But there was another school of thought, gaining popularity among younger scholars, that argued the reverse.
They claimed that cultivators instinctively gravitated toward dao paths that already matched their innate personalities. In this view, the hot-tempered naturally chose fire, the patient chose earth, and the detached chose death. The dao didn't change them, it simply amplified and refined what they already were.
Chen Yong had never been entirely sure which philosophy was correct, though he suspected the truth lay somewhere between the two extremes. Perhaps personality and dao influenced each other in an endless cycle, each reinforcing the other until they became indistinguishable.
Regardless of the underlying mechanism, the relationship between a cultivator and their dao allowed cultivators to often predict the behavior of others with startling accuracy.
Knowing that Elder Zhao followed the Dao of Lightning meant understanding his impatience with gradual solutions, his tendency to strike decisively when opportunities appeared, and his preference for overwhelming force over careful negotiation. It was through following said dao that led him into the precarious situation he now found himself in.
Elder Meng's Dao of Wind explained his mercurial moods and his preference for indirect approaches to conflict.
Chen Yong's own Drunken Master dao made him more laid-back, more inclined to go with the flow of events rather than fighting against them. His preference for appearing as a harmless old man, his tendency to avoid direct confrontation, these weren't just tactical choices, they were expressions of how his dao had molded his character.
But Sect Master Yuan?
He'd been leading the Azure Peak Sect for thousands of years, and in all that time, he'd never revealed his dao path. He rarely fought, rarely demonstrated techniques, rarely even spoke at length about cultivation philosophy. When he did act, it was with such swift decisiveness that observers had no time to analyze the underlying principles guiding his choices.
Chen Yong had entered the sect as a young outer disciple nearly a thousand years ago, full of ambition and desperate to prove himself worthy of inner sect promotion. Even then, Sect Master Yuan had been an enigma: ageless, powerful, and utterly unknowable.
Which is why Chen Yong couldn't begin to predict how the man would handle the Ke Yin situation. Was his protection of the boy genuine, born from principles of justice and merit? Or was it simply a more sophisticated form of resource acquisition, clearing away competing interests so that he could claim the boy's potential for himself?
The righteous words about honor and merit sounded convincing, but Chen Yong had lived long enough to know that Civilization Realm cultivators operated on timescales and with motivations that often transcended simple morality.
What appeared to be principled protection could just as easily be strategic positioning for some scheme that wouldn't bear fruit for decades or centuries.
Chen Yong took another drink of wine and settled back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the viewing screens where his disciple was now entering the portal.
Whatever Sect Master Yuan's true intentions, one thing was certain: Ke Yin had just become a person of interest to one of the most powerful and mysterious figures in the Eastern Continent.
Whether that would prove to be a blessing or a curse remained to be seen.