Chapter 84

Back in the viewing stands, Hongniang watched the scene below with growing affection as her gaze fell on Han Luo amid the crowd. The more she looked, the more she liked what she saw. After all, Xian'er was her goddaughter—if Xian'er won the championship, it would mean that Piao Miao Peak took first place, which made her genuinely pleased.

Unlike Hongniang, however, Yun Ding and Yun Qianren were visibly unhappy. The two exchanged a glance and turned to Wu Dao, silently asking for an explanation, only to find him seated calmly with his eyes closed in meditation. As expected from Wu Dao—if it weren’t for the significance of the Luoxian Tournament, he likely wouldn’t have left seclusion to attend at all.

“This is blatant cheating!” Yun Qianren finally spoke out, unable to hold back. Wu Dao may have been the silent type, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be called out. A third-tier defensive formation? Forget about those seven disciples breaking it—even cultivators like Dan Chenzi would have difficulty tearing through it.

And how had Han Luo managed to let Xian’er use a third-tier formation?

In cultivation, realms were strictly separated. While rare geniuses could sometimes transcend those boundaries, especially in areas like formations, doing so with something as complicated as a third-tier array was nearly impossible. If Han Luo himself activated it, they might be able to accept it. After all, Luoxian Mountain already had the third-tier Kunxian Formation, which was solid and well-established. But Xian’er? She didn’t know the first thing about formation arts. How could she activate a high-tier formation just by pouring spiritual energy into it?

Not to mention, a third-tier formation required refined spiritual energy. Any regular Foundation Establishment cultivator would be drained dry instantly. But Xian’er? Not only was she not being drained—she seemed to be using it passively, with zero signs of depletion. It was beyond comprehension.

“This isn’t just cheating. It’s outrageous,” Yun Ding echoed, finding himself for once aligned with Yun Qianren.

The outcome of the tournament would determine resource distribution for the next decade. While technically the amounts were similar, the winning peak always enjoyed a better reputation and standing. For someone like Yun Ding who counted every spirit stone, letting others walk away with the glory was unacceptable.

Even Lei Xing glanced at Wu Dao with a subtle look of discontent. Though he said nothing, his eyes made his stance clear—his Luoxian Peak disciples were also competing, and he had no intention of letting them lose ground for nothing.

Sensing their collective gaze, Wu Dao slowly opened his eyes. At first glance, he seemed utterly ordinary, devoid of any aura of a Golden Core cultivator. Were he not sitting among them, one might mistake him for some elderly visitor just tagging along.

“I agree—it does seem unfair,” Wu Dao said, catching everyone off guard.

Why wasn’t he defending his disciple? Why was he admitting fault?

“Wu Dao senior brother, don’t listen to them,” Hongniang quickly stepped in to mediate. “They’re just jealous. There’s no need to let it get to you.”

Wu Dao turned his head, meeting the group’s gaze. “How about this?” he said. “Let Xian’er withdraw from the tournament and have Xiao Luo take her place.”

At that, several of the peak lords nearly choked.

They wanted to scream: Are you trying to give us a heart attack?

Han Luo was far more cunning than Xian’er. And who knew what tricks he had up his sleeve? Officially, he was only at the seventh layer of Qi Refinement with five body temperings, but they all suspected the truth: at least seven temperings—possibly even the legendary eighth.

If Han Luo had truly completed eight temperings, it would be a massive event across the Eastern Domain, rivaling the emergence of twin-dragon anomalies.

And now you’re suggesting he replace Xian’er in the tournament? That’s just inhumane.

“All right, all right,” Yun Yangzi intervened with a laugh. “The third-tier formation may stretch the rules, but since Xian’er can activate it on her own, it counts. Even if it wasn’t something Han Luo gave her, what if she simply found a third-tier array disk by chance? That wouldn’t be against the rules either. On the other hand, if Han Luo were to fight, we’d be contradicting the very reason we kept him hidden in the first place.”

He paused, his expression turning serious.

“Until Han Luo reaches the Nascent Soul stage, his existence must never be exposed. If we fail to protect that secret, then the moment his identity is revealed, Luoxian Sect will vanish from the Eastern Domain—just like Moon Sect did. I trust you all remember what happened to them.”

Silence fell over the room.

Years ago, a mid-tier sect known as Moon Sect produced a disciple with saint-level bloodlines. Elated, they boasted their fortune across the Eastern Domain. The next day, reclusive ancient sects descended to steal the child. Not recruit—steal. They planned to erase the disciple’s memories and use him as a vessel for one of their elders’ soul transfers.

Moon Sect refused.

On the third day, Moon Sect vanished without a trace.

When others arrived at the sect’s ruins, what they found was a nightmare—corpses of disciples, elders, even the sect’s guard dogs, not a single soul left unharmed. In the cruel world of cultivation, if you lacked power, even peerless talent couldn’t save you. If you resisted, they would simply wipe your entire clan off the map.

Since then, no sect, regardless of size, ever publicly declared their monstrous prodigies. Only when such talents were strong enough to protect themselves would they be revealed to the world.

Han Luo was one such prodigy—perhaps even more terrifying than that saint-blooded youth from Moon Sect. And to ensure his safety, they’d willingly let Xian’er act as a decoy, believing that all eyes would focus on her instead.

After all, how could anyone imagine that Luoxian Sect, a mid-tier sect, would produce not one but two prodigies—and that the second might eclipse even saint-blood talent?

Once Han Luo reached Nascent Soul, he would be able to fully wield the power of the sect’s ancestral treasures, the twin Luoxian swords. The legend that said those swords, when combined, could slay even a cultivator at the Great Ascension stage—might finally come true.

The peak lords all understood what Han Luo represented.

“All right, all right, I was just joking,” Yun Ding quickly backpedaled. “Don’t take it seriously.”

He wasn’t about to risk getting on Han Luo’s bad side. The boy might look harmless, but if he decided to settle scores later, they all knew he’d have the power to do it.

“Yes, yes, Wu Dao senior brother, don’t be upset,” Yun Qianren added with an awkward laugh.

As the two awkwardly apologized, Wu Dao finally spoke again. “I understand your concerns. The appearance of Han Luo, Xian’er, and the twin dragon phenomenon—these all point to a coming storm in the Eastern Domain. We don’t yet know whether it will be a blessing or a calamity. I know you’re eager to see Han Luo grow into the kind of leader who can shoulder our sect’s future, but…”

Wu Dao didn’t finish the sentence. His gaze swept to the stands, where Han Luo was enthusiastically waving a fan sign for Xian’er, blending in among her cheering fans like a harmless bystander.

With a soft sigh, he closed his eyes and resumed meditating.

The others remained silent, lost in thought.

Meanwhile, the Luoxian Tournament raged on, and the battle everyone had been waiting for was finally about to begin—Chi Xiao versus Wu Dao.