yw193.moc无码

Yang Bingwen was slightly displeased by the rude remark from Mark. But keeping his goal in his mind, he forced himself to smile and acted as if he wasn't bothered by the earlier comment. He let out a sigh and said, "No, I was just worried about my great-grandnephew, the lad you met earlier. He appeared to have a liking to her. I rarely see him accompany a female disciple in our sect."

"Then, you better warn him to stay away from her for her fate is sealed whether she met us in the competition or not. Or else…" Mark doesn't want to be harsh on this respected grand elder but the words just come out of his mouth before he realized the problem and he had to correct his tone later as this old man's usefulness hasn't come to an end.

*cough* "I mean that it is better for the both of us if he doesn't stand in our way to punish a traitorous woman who plotted the death of several individuals. As his ancestor, I believe that you can convince him to not associate himself with the Wuji sect."

Mark doesn't need such a lengthy explanation but he had to act like a boss but not an arrogant one because there are people watching them. They weren't mere spectators. They were messengers who will deliver the news of his firearms to their regions.

With everything going in his favor, the news of the grand elder personally escorting Mark and his companions, followed by the Patriarch making a personal visit to meet him had spread to even the other peaks. People couldn't help but try to guess his identity.

But then again, not everyone is curious to know about this guest. After all, the tournament is the main attraction and moreover, there's news that Emperor himself is going to attend the opening ceremony too.

***

The next day at dawn;

Mark and his companions left the grand elder's residence where they were guests last night, and they proceeded to the highest peak of the mountain, known as the main peak/White Peak.

The disciples of the white peak became the hosts, spreading from the entrance to the arena.

Just like its name, every inner sect disciple of white peak wore white robes, and with their pale faces, several of them really looked like ghosts in fairytales but no one dared to comment about it as it is considered a sore spot for those disciples.

Of course, Mark could care less about their feelings but his current attention wasn't exactly on their appearances but rather on their gender. He saw a lot of female disciples and participants walking around.

Mark couldn't help but casually comment, "I should say that the north is really progressive. Back in the Phoenix Empire, I don't think there were any sects that accept both genders."

In response, Song Yue then voiced her opinion, "well, you can see mixed groups in guilds though."

Yang Bingwen then commented, "When one has power, they have the freedom to choose their life. And no matter what kind of society it is, the beliefs of the highest authority will reflect the entire land as more and more time passed."

"Well, I won't object to that," replied Mark. He added while remembering his biological father's face, "that is why it is necessary for an Emperor to be a role model for his citizens."

Song Yue fell silent when she heard that and she immediately grabbed his arms to console him, knowing what he was thinking about.

The others, on the other hand, didn't think much and only assumed that it is just a part of the conversation. Perhaps, the only one who misunderstood is the grand elder, who assumed that Mark was talking about Emperor Qin.

Meanwhile, inside the arena, a few qualified participants lined up in front of a giant stone slab placed in the middle of the field. Nine large markings in the shape of stars were inscribed on top of this mysterious object.

And right before the stone stab, there was a thin and transparent blue-colored barrier, which will test one's age.

There was an elder with 8-circle cultivation standing on its right, and Yang Zenchao, the inner sect disciple of Violet peak was standing on its left with an empty scroll in his hand.

"Your invitation letter please…" Elder asked the group standing at the front. One of them handed it to the old man and the latter looked at it, "Luo sect, 3 slots."

He then looked at the group, "are you the three?" he asked.

As the three teenagers nodded in response, the Elder told them to proceed with the test.

The first one walked forward and pressed his palm against the stone slab, inserting his ether energy into it.

The moment he did that, five stars lit up and the elder nodded in satisfaction, "Five-circle realm cultivation. Next…"

He pointed at the handsome-looking young man on the other side of the stone slab.

Yang Zenchao asked for his name and recorded it in the scroll using ether energy writing.

One after another, the participants went through the test and recorded their names so that it becomes easier for the sect to arrange the match fixtures, especially these Spirit Warriors from the same sect who came through recommendations without facing any preliminary battles.

Every time, there will be 128 Spirit Warriors participating in the tournament, of which 64 slots were reserved for people from the well-known sects and the other 64 will be decided through preliminary rounds.

Not all the sects were given an equal amount of slots. Luo sect, for example, was given 3 slots while Wuji and Kunlun sects were given 4 slots each. As for the host, the Xianshu sect has the right to reserve 8 slots for their disciples.

Of course, this didn't mean that the sects with reserved slots can send whoever they can. They will have to adhere to the rules of the competition too.

Some of the sects with only 1 or 2 slots tried to act smart, trying to fool them by faking their age. However, they underestimated the Xianshu sect's age-detecting barrier. It accurately guessed whether one's real age is below 30 or not. As a result, five cultivators were disqualified from the tournament and became a laughingstock in front of the other sect representatives.

After parting ways with Song Yue and others at the entrance, Mark, Zi Ling, Dong Fang, and coachman Dai Qiu made their way toward the stone slab.

Zi Ling and Dong Fang didn't have a bit of nervousness on their faces and they appeared to be quite determined with a clear goal in their mind.

Mark, on the other hand, looked like someone who didn't care about the competition. He was leisurely observing the arena.

And the remaining one, Dai Qiu was sweating like hell. His face was pale, his eyes were red as if he didn't sleep all night, and his heart was beating very fast as he followed Mark.

"What kind of trouble do I put myself into?"