The final round of the Grand Sect Tournament arrived with heavy tension and roaring excitement. Elders from every participating sect gathered as the massive formation in the center of the arena activated. A swirling portal of silver light opened, leading into the legendary Secret Domain of Azure Cloud—an ancient restricted space filled with rare treasures, powerful spirit beasts, and unpredictable dangers.
Ling Qinghe stood with his team at the front of the Azure Cloud group. Ninebro clung to his shoulder, golden tails twitching with anticipation. Gu Xichen, Huo Yan, Ye Tianlan, and even Mo Xuan (who had somehow managed to insert himself into the same entry group) formed a tight circle around him.
"Stay close once we're inside," Gu Xichen said firmly, his cold eyes scanning the portal.
Huo Yan cracked his knuckles. "Anyone who tries anything funny dies first."
Ye Tianlan offered a calm smile. "We'll protect the center together."
Mo Xuan's dark gaze lingered on Ling Qinghe a moment longer than the others. "Try not to wander off, little beauty."
The portal pulsed. Teams surged forward.
The moment they stepped through, the Secret Domain swallowed them in dense mist and shifting landscapes. Ancient stone paths twisted between glowing forests and jagged cliffs. Almost immediately, chaos erupted. Powerful mid-to-late stage spirit beasts charged from the shadows—horned wolves, armored serpents, and a massive thunder-clawed tiger that forced several teams to scatter.
Ling Qinghe's group fought as one. Ice walls rose, flames roared, sword light flashed, and Mo Xuan's shadows coiled like living blades. Ninebro created golden diversions, buying precious seconds.
During the fiercest clash against a particularly fierce three-headed serpent beast, a sudden spatial fluctuation hit the battlefield. The ground cracked. Mist thickened. In the confusion of qi explosions and collapsing terrain, Ling Qinghe was thrown sideways.
"Qinghe!" several voices shouted at once.
When the dust settled, he was alone.
No Gu Xichen. No Huo Yan. No Ye Tianlan. No Mo Xuan. No Ninebro.
Only thick white mist and the distant echoes of battle.
"Bros…? Ninebro?" Ling Qinghe called, blue eyes scanning the fog. Silence answered.
System: Separation detected. Host is currently alone in the outer fringe of the Secret Domain. Recommend caution. A hidden path has opened nearby.
A faint glow caught his attention—a narrow crack in a cliff face half-hidden by hanging vines. Curiosity (and the lack of better options) pulled him forward. He slipped through the opening and found himself in a winding cave corridor that glowed with soft bioluminescent moss.
The air grew warmer. The scent of clean water and spiritual energy thickened. After several minutes of careful walking, the passage opened into a vast underground grotto.
A crystal-clear spring lake stretched before him, fed by cascading waterfalls that glowed with pure spiritual light. Steam rose gently from the surface. The water was so clear he could see smooth white stones and luminous spirit fish gliding below. The entire cavern shimmered like a hidden paradise.
Ling Qinghe exhaled in wonder. "Bro… this is way better than any spa commercial."
His robes were torn, dusty, and stained with battle residue. After checking that the area seemed empty, he set his storage ring and the black pendant aside on a flat rock, then carefully stepped into the spring.
The water was perfect—warm, silky, and rich with spiritual energy that soothed every bruise and fatigue. He sank in with a quiet sigh of relief, snow-white hair floating around him like silk threads. Blue eyes closed as he tilted his head back, letting the heat melt the tension from his shoulders.
He didn't notice the faint shift in the shadows near the cave entrance.
Someone was already there.
A tall figure stood half-concealed behind a cluster of glowing crystals, sharp eyes fixed on the white-haired youth bathing in the spring. Interest—deep, focused, and unmistakably intense—darkened his gaze. The watcher remained silent, unmoving, as if the sight before him was something rare and precious he refused to interrupt.
Ling Qinghe floated closer to a small waterfall, letting the cascading water rinse the dust from his hair. He hummed a modern song under his breath, completely at ease, unaware of the heated attention fixed on every graceful movement.
End of chapter 17