The ordinary disciples slowly stepped aside, leaving the foot of the altar to the final candidates.
The true geniuses of the Hidden Village.
Long Yun of the Long Clan stood at the front of the group. Her gaze was calm yet domineering, as if the awakening of her bloodline was nothing more than a simple formality.
Not far from her, Bhima Shi wore an almost insolent smile, his hands resting behind his head. To him, this entire ceremony was nothing more than a child's game.
The heirs of the other clans — Xuan Ling, Feng Yue, Mo Chen, Hai Lan, and Yan Rui — completed the line, each cloaked in an aura of cold confidence.
And among them…
Wang Chen.
The contrast was brutal, almost cruel. Among the prodigies of the seven clans, the chief's grandson appeared alarmingly fragile.
A murmur spread through the crowd, a mixture of pity and disdain.
The eight final candidates.
The true elite of this generation.
At the top of the altar, the officiant slowly raised his hand. Almost immediately, the seven elders seated upon their thrones formed a complex hand seal.
A pale glow surged from the ground.
The runes carved into the ancient stone lit up one after another, tracing a massive geometric circle across the plaza. Within a few breaths, a translucent barrier enveloped the entire area.
This formation was not an honor for the geniuses.
It was a safeguard.
It existed to protect the villagers from the violent fluctuations of spiritual energy that the awakening of bloodlines was about to unleash.
The air suddenly grew heavier, saturated with crackling energy. Even the sunlight seemed to bend beneath the overwhelming pressure of the formation.
The true ceremony… was finally about to begin.
At that moment, Bhima Shi tilted his head slightly toward Wang Chen, a mischievous smile on his lips.
"Want me to go first?"
Without waiting for an answer, he stretched his arms behind his neck as if preparing for a casual stroll.
"Watch closely, Brother Chen. I'll warm up the stage for you!"
Wang Chen raised an eyebrow, amused.
"Are you sure, Bhima Shi? I haven't forgotten your absence this morning."
He then tilted his head slightly toward the young woman standing in front of them.
"But the honor belongs to the ladies."
The officiant swept his gaze across the eight heirs.
His finger pointed toward the young woman leading the line.
"Long Yun of the Long Clan! Step forward!"
The silence grew even heavier.
Long Yun, whom Wang Chen and Bhima remembered for her bursts of laughter and fiery temper, now showed no trace of emotion.
Her steps were light, almost weightless, as she ascended the steps of the Altar of the Inverted Saint Demon. Her robe, embroidered with golden dragon patterns, fluttered behind her, outlining her slender yet athletic figure.
When she reached the summit, she did not hesitate.
Her cold golden eyes fixed upon the ebony dagger.
With a swift and graceful motion, she grasped the weapon.
The blade slid across her palm, releasing a drop of vibrant crimson blood.
The moment the blood touched the black stone, the inverted runes of the altar did not merely glow.
They roared.
A column of golden light shot into the sky, slamming against the translucent barrier, which trembled violently under the impact.
A scorching gust of wind swept across the arena, sending Wang Chen's hair flying.
"Bloodline Spirit of the Celestial Dragon! Supreme Ancestral Bloodline!" the officiant shouted, his voice nearly drowned by the roaring energy.
In the stands, a triumphant cry erupted from the Long Clan.
A supreme awakening on the very first attempt…
It was an absolute display of dominance.
"There stands the future leader of our clan," declared the Long Clan Elder with undisguised pride.
His gaze briefly shifted toward Wang Shixiong, as if silently reminding him of the Long Clan's supremacy.
Around the altar, the murmurs of the crowd grew frantic.
"A Supreme Ancestral Bloodline…"
"It's been decades since such an awakening appeared…"
Even among the other heirs, several expressions changed.
Xuan Ling narrowed his eyes slightly.
Feng Yue pressed her lips together.
Yan Rui crossed his arms without saying a word.
Only Bhima Shi continued to smile, as though Long Yun's display merely fueled his excitement.
Long Yun descended the steps, her face still expressionless.
As she passed Wang Chen, she did not stop.
Her lips barely moved.
"It's your turn not to disappoint me, little brother…"
As the light of the Celestial Dragon slowly faded, Wang Chen suddenly felt a strange sensation in his wrist.
As if something beneath his skin had just awakened.
Yet the barely noticeable movement of Long Yun's lips had been enough.
Wang Chen had understood.
"Hm… don't worry, Sister Long Yun. I will never disappoint you."
For several moments, no one spoke.
Then the officiant's voice rang out across the arena.
"Bhima Shi of the Shi Clan! Step forward!"