"——Brave young warriors!"
"The Nine Luminaries Martial Meet, Prologue — Trial One of Ten… begins!"
As the commanding voice echoed, hundreds of contestants scattered like waves surging outward.
Yet a strange pattern soon emerged—most of them charged in eight distinct directions.
Those eight directions were precisely where the direct descendants of the Nine Great Families stood.
The organizers had deliberately placed each family's heir evenly across the four quadrants of the arena.
This was no coincidence.
Though the Nine Families were far from allies—and often clashed in secret—they shared one unspoken rule:
Before the final stage, the Nine Luminaries' direct heirs would never fight one another.
For if a family's heir were to be eliminated before reaching the finals, it would be a lasting humiliation upon their entire bloodline.
Thus, to ensure their rightful place in the final rounds, the heirs often cooperated silently during the early phases.
Throughout history, not once had a direct heir been defeated before the final showdown.
The trial field was divided into four quadrants:
Northwest: Sword
Northeast: Magecraft
Southwest: Spear
Southeast: Beast
Central Zone: Bow, Fist, Axe, and Crimson Flame — the core of all conflict.
On the elevated viewing platform, the nine family heads had gathered.
An aged man with a long beard — Cang Song, Patriarch of the Mage Family — stroked his chin and chuckled,
"Heh… as expected, the same pattern repeats once more."
Beside him, a burly man — Zhen Yue, Patriarch of the Fist Clan — laughed heartily,
"Haha! Instead of waiting for the finals, I'd rather see someone take down an heir right now!
With this many contestants, there's always a chance to gang up and steal the glory!"
A calm man holding a longsword — Yao Feng, the Sword Saint — smiled faintly,
"That's assuming they have the skill to even get close."
A tall man resting his spear against his chair — Ting Qiang, the Spear God — added,
"This terrain, Ten Trials' first field, does favor me and Cang Song."
Cang Song nodded lightly,
"Indeed. Though… I fear this layout might prove troublesome for Feng Yu's child."
A man radiating a wild aura — Kuang Chen, the Beast King — burst into laughter,
"Haha! The field's too open! She can't fully unleash her beast power!"
A scarred man — Yan Hao, the Axe Emperor — remained silent, only nodding slightly.
A proud woman with a bow resting at her side — Feng Yu, the Bow Goddess — smirked,
"That's fine. The Shadow Stalker's in that region too, isn't he?"
In the dim corner, a blurry figure appeared — You Ying, the Phantom Blade — his voice low and cold,
"Yes. She's… already begun her move."
A voluptuous red-haired woman puffing on a pipe — Hong Jin, Mistress of Crimson Flame — narrowed her eyes with a teasing smile,
"Hehehe… then let's see how these children perform.
Maybe one or two will turn out to be promising seedlings.
If there's a good-looking young man among them… perhaps I'll bring him home as a son-in-law~"
The others fell silent, exchanging helpless glances as the air grew awkward.
Scene shifts — Northwest Battle Zone.
Dust billowed across the barren field.
There, the Sword Saint's heir — Jian Chen — stood surrounded by dozens of opponents.
A muscular youth with a massive greatsword sneered,
"I heard your talent surpasses even the current Sword Saint's? Hah!
Sounds like nothing but the Nine Families' self-praising nonsense.
You pampered rabbits raised in luxury—how could you compare to us warriors who fight with our lives on the line?
Let me shatter that fake glory of yours!"
With a roar, he leapt and brought his blade crashing down!
BOOM!!
The ground split apart; dust exploded outward.
Jian Chen tilted his body slightly, dodging with effortless precision.
His cold voice cut through the smoke,
"Good strength. But… your movements are too wide—your openings too clear."
Before the words had finished leaving his lips—
Swordlight flashed.
The next instant, the challenger's body was struck by multiple slashes, collapsing unconscious before he even realized it.
The surrounding fighters froze, dread flickering in their eyes.
Then, a voice rose from within the crowd—
a dagger-wielding man shouted,
"What are you afraid of?! There's only one of him, and dozens of us!
Let's show him what it means when ants devour an elephant!
Take down a child of the Nine Families, and we'll all rise to fame and fortune!"
His words ignited the mob's spirit.
With a furious roar, they charged forward—
but the instigator quietly stepped back, drawing his bowstring in the shadows.
The cold gleam of an arrow tip fixed precisely upon—
Jian Chen's heart.