“Is this always what it’s like, being in the Sect?”

Aiden stood in front of the window with his hands clasped behind his back, blue eyes shimmering and mouth slightly agape from the exuberant scene.

It was all so new and exciting!

The surging clamors from the growing crowds could be heard from within their booth. Premature cheers and shouts emerged endlessly, and cloth banners were being waved around with zealous passion. With time, the revelry only grew as more and more disciples filed into the stands.

“Maybe for some,” Auslen replied from beside Aiden, just as he spotted Nathaniel and the rest taking their seats down on the second level. “Most of my experiences haven't been nearly as lively.”

And thank Heavens for that. I’m too old to be surrounded by this kind of hustle and bustle everyday.

Aiden glanced at Auslen, able to guess most of what his younger brother was thinking.

He shook his head discouragingly. “You’re going to prematurely age yourself if you keep up that boring lifestyle of yours, Auslen.“

“Isn’t that what cultivation is for?” Auslen laughingly asked, the comment hitting a bit closer to home than anticipated.

“But, a monotonous and tedious lifestyle isn’t advantageous to your future cultivation,” Aiden threw out in response, waving his finger like a nagging school teacher.

Auslen didn’t miss a beat, speaking with steady composure. “Committing to a goal and working hard to achieve that goal, in the face of temptations and distractions, is important too, even if it is a little boring.”

Auslen quite enjoyed his current uneventful lifestyle and had no intentions of altering it. He had decades upon decades of active and hectic experiences. Though, there was no way Aiden would know of such a thing, so Auslen understood the 14-year-old was once speaking with good intentions at heart.

Aiden shrugged tiredly but didn’t say anything else in response, refusing to try and argue with his brother.

As much as it pained him to admit it, he had not once been able to teach Auslen a proper piece of advice as the knowledgeable older brother he should have been. At times, it felt like he was being taught a lesson instead, often making him feel as though his dignity as the elder brother was being challenged.

Right at this moment, a discomforting sensation flared, pulsating throughout his body. Underneath his black sleeves, his hands clenched tightly for a few brief seconds before he let go, the malaise suddenly vanishing as though it had never existed.

This was not his first time experiencing this unsettling phenomena.

It was as simple as thinking of his neglected duty as an older brother — or how he had distanced himself from Auslen for so long, all because of his childish shame — and shocks of remorse would shoot through his Soul Force, repeatedly distracting him from his lessons and cultivation.

For an entire year, he failed to find any degree of relief from this.

Apparently, what he was experiencing was some type of “emotional blockage,” from what their father had explained. A small one, but one that needed to be dealt with all the same.

He was truly fascinated by the upcoming Tournament. However, resolving this emotional blockage was his true purpose for coming to the Five Profound Elements Sect.

Aiden quietly sighed.

From reading and seeking advice from a few of his close servants, he had come to understand that he had responsibilities as an older brother, and he was determined to set about fulfilling them!

Aiden had been trying to give Auslen some brotherly guidance every now and then. Unfortunately, it seemed that either teaching was not his strong suit, or he was simply unqualified to instruct his genius younger brother.

But he had other ideas!

Aiden smiled then, a bit unscrupulously.

In order to make up for years of missed opportunities, Aiden was going to force some youthful excitement into Auslen’s life before he went back home, whether his younger brother liked it or not.

He had already gotten their father’s permission, so he wouldn’t allow Auslen to talk his way out!

Auslen had no idea that his advanced intellect and estranged personality were causing problems for his older brother.

Not paying attention to Aiden, who was currently indulging in conspiring thoughts, Auslen raised an eyebrow when he perceived ear-piercing zooming sounds, followed by cheers soaring into the air from the crowds.

Seeing many arms gesturing upwards animatedly, he lifted his gaze with some curiosity.

Underneath the light of the morning sun, five silhouettes tore through a cloud, emerging from the boundless blue sky.

A ghostly sword light, cloud vapor, a wooden boat, a bronze boat, and a wide paper umbrella were immediately distinguishable. The youthful figures traveling upon them became more visible the lower they descended into the stadium.

Each of them wore different colored and designed Daoist robes, however, their identities were unmistakable.

The Sword Controlling Peak, Misty Lake Peak, Vital Spirit Peak, Conflagration Nurturing Peak, and the Shifting Wind Peak were the five Peaks that formed the Inner Sect, and these five disciples were their representatives for this Qi Refinement Tournament.

…

Disregarding the various reverent gazes, the Inner Sect Disciples descended into the stands before being escorted away by several Elders, presumably into one of the VIP rooms.

Then, a bell began to toll, the reverberant sounds from each loud toll sending numbing vibrations coursing through every disciple.

By the fifth bell toll, the cheers and clamorous chatter increased greatly with anticipation.

Five aged, female Elders slowly flew with their canes into the air. They didn’t stop until they faced away from each other, hovering above the arenas in a compact pentagonal formation with their identical wrinkled faces pointed towards the audience.

The disciples who had never attended the Qi Refinement Tournament looked at one another confusedly. These five identical old women were the very same Elders that operated the airship which transported them to the Outer Sect Stadium.

With their arrival, several additional Elders flew out, leaving streaks of light in their wake. They expeditiously took their place on the tall chairs situated beside each of the green tinted arena plated with E-Grade alloy, which were erected in two rows of five in the center of the Stadium.

Suddenly, faint wisps of aura leaked out from the women in the air, and terrific pressure descended. The entire Outer Sect Stadium trembled for a split second. The volume of the audience lowered acutely.

The Elders opened each of their mouths simultaneously.

“I am Elder Griselda,” they said in unison, sending unsettled shivers through a number of spines in the audience, as well as amused laughter from some of those more experienced.

“As always, I will be the host for this year’s Outer Sect Tournament.” Her voices were calm, yet they echoed sonorously throughout all corners of the Stadium.

“Contestants from the five Outer Sect mountains, please step onto the arena grounds.”

Five gates equally spaced around the arena grounds opened, giving way for the contestants to enter into sunlit enclosure, under the expectant gazes of hundreds of thousands of disciples.

…

Walking through a tunnel towards the arenas, Victor yawned once. His hands were clasped behind his head, sauntering forward in the line of competing disciples leading to the gate a short distance ahead.

He leaned his head toward Michail, who was walking calmly beside him.

“You think you made it into the initial top 10?”

Michail, who had been silently concentrating, glanced over to Victor.

Thinking of the surrounding fellow disciples who remained quiet, he thought with some exhausted irritation, ‘Why couldn’t this person ever follow social cues?’

“Who knows,” he replied offhandedly. “But I’d rather I wasn’t. It's too much trouble.”

“Where’s your confidence? All you’ll have to do is accept a few challenges.” Victor goaded, poking Michail in the side of his head with his raised elbow. He continued with a matter-of-fact tone, “It’s not like you have any real competition from our Outer Sect mountain, besides me, of course– Gah!”

Victor loudly choked on his words from Michail's sudden punch to his gut, shooting many annoyed glances his way.

“Can you please stop talking?” Michail sighed before asking dryly, finding it next to impossible to gather his focus with the blabbermouth next to him.

Half-expecting the violent retaliation, Victor clutched his stomach with an exaggerated grimace.

“You’re too much, Michail!” Victor exclaimed, obviously unperturbed. “You actually used violence on me before the Tournament! You’re trying to sabotage my matches, aren’t you? I demand compensation…”

Under Michail’s deadpan gaze, Victor chattered nonstop like a pesky little bird.

Michail pursed his lips and turned away, refusing to humor Victor’s antics any longer. He was more than thankful that it was finally their turn to step into the arena grounds.

Once Victor felt the warm rays wash over him after passing through the gates, he stopped speaking and glanced up, immediately feeling a dwarfing sensation from the swarms of people observing them from above. Subconsciously, he dropped his hands to straighten his robes.

His voice was quieter and a bit edgy. “I’m a little nervous suddenly.”

“Me too,” someone nearby agreed.

A few other confirming whispers sounded, showing that most of them were at least a little uneasy.

Meanwhile, Michail took a deep, calming breath and let it go, tension draining away from his shoulders.

It wouldn't be dramatic to say that today's events could be a turning point for his future.

...

After seeing all 500 contestants arriving into the venue and positioning themselves in the prescribed circular alignment surrounding the ten arenas, the five hovering Elder Griseldas spoke once more.

“The rules for this round of the Qi Refinement Tournament are simple. 10 of you will be called to the arenas. Your duty will be to compete with those who challenge your arena.

“As long as you do not lose, you will continue to fight on the stage. Your physical condition and Profound Qi will be fully restored in preparation for your next bout. If you lose, you are to vacate the premises.

“If a single arena goes unchallenged for five minutes…

The contestants listened to the rules carefully, most praying that they wouldn’t be among the 10 whose names were called to defend an arena.

One of the Elder Griseldas waved her hand.

A massive, circular screen of light materialized, obscuring the sky as it hung vertically just above the fifth and highest level of the arena. Upon which, ten beautifully inscribed names slowly appeared, with a letter placed to its right.

“From your performances during the Preliminary rounds, the Outer Sect has produced a randomly arranged listing of the 10 best performing disciples. If you see your name on the list above, please make your way to the corresponding arena designated by the letter next to your name.”

…

In the stands.

Underneath the awning, Irene crossed her legs and leaned back into her seat with a smile. She was satisfied once she saw Michail and Victor’s names on the list.

“Poor guys,” Liliane said, looking at the figures walking onto the rings. Her cute expression was sympathetic as she leisurely fanned herself with her white lace hand fan, which matched the lace ribbons holding her pigtails up. “The Tournament just started, and they have to fight already.”

Irene, who was among the ten called to the arenas in the last Qi Refinement Tournament, was unconcerned.

“The quality of combat in Qi Refinement isn’t that high. Typically, there are large disparities in strength between the challengers and the challenged, so most of these matches won’t last for more than a handful of seconds. To them, it won’t be much more than an extended warm up.”

Sitting beside them, Nathaniel looked awed.

“Senior Brother Michail and Victor are that strong?”

Tarek pulled his gaze away from the dissipating light screen and nodded, before speaking across the Bright Forest guard sitting between them. “Senior Brother Michail has been touted for his talent in our Outer Sect mountain for years now. I went to one of his Preliminary matches, but it ended too quickly for me to understand much. But it’s safe to say that he will rank very well today.”

Feeling more alive due to the energetic atmosphere within the packed stands, Mia leaned over to voice her curiosity. “What about Senior Brother Victor? How strong is he?”

Nathaniel wanted to speak up then but was beat out by Irene, who replied casually from further down. “He’s not quite as well rounded as Michail. Victor only recently advanced to Peak Qi Refinement, unlike Michail, who’s had years to acclimate.

“To Victor’s credit, he managed to master a Black Tier Martial Technique, which is a commendable accomplishment among Qi Refinement practitioners, even within a Major Sect. Perhaps only the ten currently standing on the arenas can claim to have mastered at least one.

“If I had to guess, Victor won’t have an issue retaining his ranking in the final top 10. But to reach the Semifinals and get the subsequent rewards, like he’s aiming for, may be difficult.”

Suddenly, Nathaniel’s eyes were alight.

“What are rewards like, Senior Sis…”

Before he finished, the sound of shocked cheers exploded from everywhere, causing Nathaniel to hurriedly look over at the arenas. ‘Oh! Did one of the matches start?’

“Why is everybody cheering! I don’t see anyone fighting!” Propping himself on the guard’s armored legs, Nathaniel yelled his question over the deafening laudation to Tarek and Mia. Confusion was written all over his face.

“It just ended!” Mia yelled back, hands covering her ears.

“Which one?!”

Tarek’s expression had morphed into bewilderment as he pointed at the ring, which a single youth was standing upon, one who Tarek had no trouble recognizing.

Even from his distant vantage point, the weapon-less disciple’s excessive height was immediately apparent.

His copper-colored hair was loosely tied, and his stance was relaxed, like he hadn’t participated in a bout just seconds prior.

The only evidence of his actions was the male disciple kneeling from outside the arena, blood flowing in tiny rivulets from his partially open mouth, down his chin before dripping onto the stone-tiled floor.