The dawn of the **Banquet of Thousand Luminaries** had barely begun, yet **Silverleaf City** was already pulsing with restless energy. From towering pagodas to bustling merchant districts, every street was alive with speculation. Word of the banquet had traveled far and wide, drawing scholars, traders, and cultivators alike to witness the unfolding spectacle.
The morning mist lingered over the rooftops, curling around **jade-inlaid temples** and reflecting golden hues from the rising sun. Within the heart of the city, taverns overflowed with eager voices, the scent of rich tea and sizzling delicacies mingling in the air.
In the lively **Scarlet Pavilion**, a favorite gathering place for scholars and warriors, debates raged among patrons.
An elderly merchant adjusted his embroidered sleeves, sipping fragrant tea with a satisfied sigh. "Mark my words, young ones—the **Thousand Peaks Sect** will dominate the banquet. Xiang Tianyi is a force beyond reckoning."
A young man, dressed in the muted robes of a wandering scholar, scoffed. "Xiang Tianyi? You place too much faith in gilded swords. The **Crimson Hawk Sect**, led by Ren Zixuan, is unpredictable. Their flames burn too brightly to be contained."
A beggar sitting in the corner let out a low chuckle, his eyes glinting with knowing amusement. "Fools, all of you. You argue over fire and gold, but **shadows** rise in silence. Watch that boy, **Lou Tianyu**. He hasn't spoken a word, yet the **Yue Clan** shelters him. There's power in that."
The room fell momentarily silent before a wave of laughter erupted. **A boy from nowhere, rising to prominence? Ridiculous!**
Yet, beyond the laughter, **a whisper had begun to take shape.**
Silverleaf's streets were **alive with motion**.
**Weapon forges** rang with the rhythmic pounding of hammers, as cultivators inspected their blades, murmuring predictions about which sect would triumph.
**Restaurants and tea houses** prepared **lavish banquets**, hoping to lure guests with delicacies fit for warriors.
The towering **Celestial Plaza**, just outside the Yue Clan's domain, was lined with **roving performers**, enacting **scenes from past legendary banquets**, drawing cheers from spectators.
As excitement built, whispers of **legends** began to circulate.
At the entrance to **Moonlit Tavern**, two elderly cultivators reclined, gazing toward the Yue Clan's towering domain.
"You remember the last Banquet of Thousand Luminaries, don't you?" one murmured.
"Of course," his companion replied, stroking his long beard. "Back then, Han Jifeng and Xuan Mingyi were just rising stars. Now, they stand as patriarchs."
Another voice joined the hushed conversation—a young girl, her eyes wide with curiosity. "What about **Yue Zhen**? They say his strength remains **unparalleled**."
The old man laughed. "Strength? Yue Zhen is a **man beyond mortal measure**. His **Qi alone could shake the heavens**, yet he remains silent, observing the world from his throne."
The young girl hesitated before whispering, "And what of **Lou Tianyu**? Some say he is a ghost of the past, hidden within Silverleaf's shadows."
The tavern fell into eerie silence.
Lou Tianyu—the name was spoken often now, yet **no one truly knew what he had become**.
Within the Yue Clan's **Hall of Celestial Eminence**, preparations for the grand banquet were nearing completion.
Servants hurried to arrange **ornate banquet tables**, while guards in elegant robes stood rigid, observing the entrance.
The **patriarch's seat** remained untouched—**awaiting Yue Zhen's arrival**.
Within the halls, cultivators and esteemed guests whispered among themselves.
"The Yue Clan's banquet never fails to shake the region," murmured one.
Another nodded. "And this year… **with Lou Tianyu beneath Yue Zhen's protection**, it may be unlike any other."
----
The Hall of Celestial Eminence stood in solemn grandeur, its towering jade pillars gleaming under the light of thousand-year spirit lanterns. The banquet had not yet begun, but the air was already thick with unspoken rivalries, political intrigue, and the quiet hum of power. The gathered guests whispered among themselves, anticipation coiling in the depths of their hearts.
Then, the herald took his position at the entrance. His voice rang out in resounding clarity, carrying over the banquet hall like the toll of an ancient bell.
"Presenting the sect delegations, arriving for the Banquet of Thousand Luminaries!"
A hush fell over the hall as **Elder Qinxue** strode through the grand doors, his steps deliberate, unwavering—as if the mountains themselves had given birth to him. Behind him, **Xiang Tianyi** and his other disciples moved in perfect formation, their movements mirroring the unyielding discipline ingrained in their sect. Each step was measured, each breath controlled.
The whispers spread like wildfire.
"Thousand Peaks Sect! Even their walk feels like a military procession."
"Xiang Tianyi—his swordsmanship is said to be unrivaled among young cultivators."
"They say he once split a valley in half with a single stroke."
A noble guest, sipping his tea with practiced ease, smirked.
"A valley, you say? Do mountains fear men? I hardly believe such myths."
Yet, as Xiang Tianyi approached his seat, his aura pressed against the hall—calm yet suffocating, like standing beneath an immovable mountain.
The temperature in the hall shifted, the air thickening with an unmistakable heat. A sharp, crackling energy surged forward, and **Elder Houyan** led his disciples and **Ren Zixuan** inside, a faint ember-like glow flickering beneath his steps. His crimson robes flowed behind him, like fire licking at the wind.
The audience murmured, voices hushed in reverence and fear.
"Crimson Hawk Sect… Hot-tempered as always."
"Ren Zixuan is unpredictable. A raging fire, burning too brightly."
"His temper cost him last year's duel—will he control himself today?"
Ren Zixuan scoffed as he overheard the hushed conversation, his lips curving into a wry grin.
"Temper? I prefer the term 'unyielding.'"
His disciples followed with untamed energy, a stark contrast to the precision of Thousand Peaks Sect. Yet for all their chaotic presence, there was no denying the power behind their flames.
Cold mist slithered into the grand hall as **Feng Xinyue** entered, her gait glamorous and cold as winter, behind her **Lu Han** his ice spear resting against his back. Her disciples, clad in deep blue robes embroidered with silver frost, moved with eerie silence. Not a single footstep broke the stillness.
The murmurs were swift but subdued.
"Northern Frost Valley Sect—always reserved."
"Lu Han is dangerous. He speaks little, but his spear does more than enough talking."
"A battle between Ren Zixuan's fire and Lu Han's ice? Now that, I wish to see."
Lu Han barely acknowledged the crowd, his eyes scanning the banquet hall like frost creeping over a lake—cold, unfeeling, deliberate. He moved toward his seat, his presence shifting the temperature of the air.
The contrast between fire and ice had arrived.
A ripple of Qi washed through the hall—not with heat nor cold, but with pressure. A presence sharper than steel.
**Elder Jianfeng** stepped forward, his disciples moving like shadows, each one carrying a blade that hummed softly in its sheath. No words were spoken among them. They had nothing to prove with chatter. The most noteworthy of them all, **Jiang Lin** his gaze; like a hidden blade full of power.
The whispers, however, spoke for them.
"Celestial Blade Sect… I thought they were assassins, not guests."
"Jian Lin is unreadable. The moment you realize his blade has moved, it's already too late."
"I once heard a tale—he cut down three men in a single breath." then followed "all them are on Nascent Soul planes much than him"
Jian Lin's gaze flickered toward the noble guests, unbothered, uninterested. His disciples followed suit, slipping into their seats like falling leaves—soft, yet deadly.
The floor shuddered as **Zheng Hao** and **Bao Xinjun** and the other disciples entered the banquet hall. Unlike the disciplined movements of the Thousand Peaks Sect or the silent grace of Celestial Blade Sect, Bao Xinjun and his fellow disciples strode forward with dominance—as if they owned the very ground they walked upon.
His armor clanked lightly as he moved, each step radiating power.
The guests looked upon them with caution.
"Iron Horizon Sect… Brute strength, nothing else."
"Bao Xinjun once shattered a battlefield with his fist alone."
"They might lack refinement, but their endurance is terrifying."
Bao Xinjun let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head as he overheard the remarks.
"Brute strength? You mistake power for simplicity, my friends."
He took his seat, his presence like a towering fortress among the banquet guests.
----
The atmosphere within the **Hall of Celestial Eminence** had transformed into a realm of silent power plays. The sect delegations had already taken their seats, their presence casting sharp contrasts of fire, ice, and steel. But all knew—the true spectacle was yet to unfold.
The arrival of the Three Great Clans—Yue, Han, and Xuan—was not merely an entrance. It was a statement, a declaration of dominance in the Eastern Region.
At the hall's entrance, the usher took his position, his voice laced with authority as he lifted his hands toward the towering jade doors.
"Now presenting the Great Clans of Silverleaf!"
The murmurs ignited instantly, opinions clashing like swords on an unseen battlefield.
----
**First to enter was the Yue Clan.**
The usher's voice rang clear:
"The Yue Clan, rulers of Silverleaf City, masters of the Lunar Arts, and guardians of the Eastern Region's prosperity!"
A wave of admiration rippled through the hall, though it was accompanied by concealed envy. The Yue Clan had ruled Silverleaf for generations—unshaken, unchallenged.
Leading the procession was **Yue Zhen**, his steps measured, his presence commanding without excess. He did not need outward displays of grandeur. His power spoke for itself. His azure robes, embroidered with celestial runes, shifted ever so slightly in the evening air, as if resonating with the vast Qi he controlled.
Beside him walked **Yue Feiyan**, her elegance mirroring her father's. The youngest prodigy of the Yue Clan—the Radiant Flame of Silverleaf—her footsteps were light yet purposeful.
But it was the third figure who sent the room into hushed speculation.
Lou Tianyu, walking with calm precision, escorting Feiyan with effortless grace. His presence was not overwhelming, yet it carried a weight not easily ignored.
The whispers were inevitable.
"So it is true… Yue Zhen has taken him as a disciple?"
"Strange. He lacks the Yue Clan's bloodline, yet he stands beside them."
"His Qi—pure, unwavering. A star yet to rise?"
Yue Zhen took his seat beneath the Celestial Pavilion, his stature unwavering, his expression unreadable. Feiyan and Tianyu followed, settling just below the patriarch's table—a symbolic placement of recognition and trust.*
The Yue Clan had arrived in full force.
----
The usher gave little pause before calling forth the next arrival:
"The Han Clan! The Iron Will of the Eastern Borders, sworn protectors of war-born honor!"
A low rumble echoed through the hall as **Han Jifeng** entered, his robes layered with deep crimson, embroidered with sigils of his forefathers. His hawk-like gaze swept over the banquet attendees, as if measuring their worth in battle.
Behind him, his warriors strode forward—not with elegance, but with purposeful steps that carried an unspoken message: power earned through conquest, not inheritance.
Han Renshu, his eldest son, walked with a silent smirk, his fingers brushing against the pommel of his ancestral blade. Unlike Yue Feiyan's calculated grace, his confidence was brazen—a flame that refused restraint.
The hall bristled with speculation.
"The Han Clan… never ones for subtlety."
"Han Jifeng values strength over everything—how will he respond to Yue Zhen's quiet dominance?""
"Han Renshu… A warrior in name, yet a strategist beneath it all."
As Han Jifeng approached the Yue Clan's table, tension coiled between them.
With deliberate slowness, Yue Zhen nodded once. "Han Jifeng. May the battles tonight showcase strength worthy of the ancestors."
Han Jifeng did not smile. He did not nod. He merely responded, his tone clipped, calculated.
"Victory is not found. It is seized.
A statement of dominance? A challenge?
Perhaps to the untrained ear. But beneath those words lay a pre-crafted deception—a false clash of wills meant to confuse lurking spies.
Han Jifeng took his seat. His clan followed without hesitation.
The illusion was intact.
----
The final entrance was met with a chilling silence.
"Presenting the Xuan Clan—the Keepers of Knowledge, the Eyes Beneath the Moon."
A slow but methodical procession followed.
At its head was **Xuan Mingyi**, his presence calm yet unsettling. Unlike the confidence of the Yue Clan or the martial prowess of the Han Clan, the Xuan Clan embodied patience—the kind that unnerved even the strongest of warriors.
His robes of deep violet fluttered faintly, though no wind stirred within the hall. His gaze was unreadable, his posture deliberate.
Behind him walked his disciples—scholars of the unseen war, wielding intellect sharper than any blade.
The murmurs were low, careful.
*"Xuan Mingyi… No one truly understands his ambitions."
"The Xuan Clan does not fight on battlefields. They fight with knowledge—far more dangerous."
"What has he planned for tonight?"
Xuan Mingyi approached the Yue and Han Clans, his demeanor one of cool indifference. He cast them both a glance.
Not a bow. Not a greeting. Merely acknowledgment.
It was a power play unlike any other—to dismiss tension, to remain untouched.
Han Jifeng narrowed his gaze slightly. Yue Zhen remained motionless.
It was all an act.
For the spies watching, the illusion was clear: division among the Great Clans, tension simmering beneath quiet restraint.
A noble scholar whispered to his companion, eyes darting between the patriarchs.
"A storm brewing among the great families… It seems Silverleaf will not be peaceful tonight."
False tension. A carefully constructed misdirection.
----
The hall of Celestial Eminence fell into profound silence as **Yue Zhen**, patriarch of the Yue Clan, rose from his seat. His presence alone was enough to silence the murmurs, his movements deliberate, his aura vast like the boundless night sky. The banquet had reached its pivotal moment, where words of formality faded and the battle for dominancewould soon begin.
He stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back, eyes sweeping across the assembled clans, sects, and renowned cultivators. His voice resonated with an undeniable weight, the authority of a ruler who did not need to command submission—it was given freely.
"This night is a testament to strength, to ambition, and to the fate of Silverleaf." His words fell like a decree upon the guests, his tone calm but suffused with power. "For centuries, this banquet has served as the stage upon which cultivators test their mettle, where names are written in legend and destinies take shape."
He paused, allowing the tension to settle, allowing his words to burrow deep into their hearts.
"Tonight, all of you stand upon the precipice of glory or ruin." His gaze passed over the seated sect masters, the eager disciples, and the hidden figures lurking in shadows. "To those worthy of victory, great rewards await."
---
With a wave of his hand, attendants carried forth **ornate cases**, each wrapped in celestial silk. As they were unveiled, hushed gasps echoed through the hall.
**Ancient Spirit Core** – A relic known to accelerate Qi refinement, strengthening one's foundation beyond mortal constraints.
**Beast Summoning Talisman** – A sacred artifact that binds a cultivator to a powerful beast, granting them an untamed edge in combat.
**Legendary Elixir** – A rare elixir capable of aiding breakthroughs, pushing one's cultivation beyond its natural limits.
**Celestial Radiance Sword** – Forged by the master artisans of the Yue Clan, a blade whose brilliance rivaled the stars themselves.
Excitement brewed in the air, but beneath the admiration lay deeper calculations. What stake did Yue Zhen truly place in these rewards? Was this just a test of strength, or was there a greater design in motion?
A disciple from the Celestial Blade Sect whispered under his breath, his eyes locked onto the prizes."With these rewards… tonight's battles will not be mere tests. It will be war."
---
Yue Zhen allowed the anticipation to reach its peak before he lifted his hand. His Qi surged—not with unnecessary spectacle, but with mastery so effortless it was terrifying.
A golden radiance erupted from his fingertips, weaving intricate arrays through the air. The banquet hall trembled as celestial inscriptions spread across the floor, forming the boundaries of a magnificent battle stage in the heart of the grand hall.
The foundation of the stage rose, layers of spiritual energy intertwining into physical form, creating a platform wide enough to host the legendary duels that were about to take place.
But Yue Zhen was not done.
He turned his wrist, his movement flowing like water, and a second wave of energy encased the hall—protective formations blossomed into existence, shielding spectators from the untamed fury of combat.
Even the elders of opposing sects exchanged glances of awe and quiet acknowledgment.
A disciple from Northern Frost Valley Sect whispered in hushed reverence, his breath misting in the chill. "To form an array without effort, to create a battleground from nothing… Yue Zhen's mastery remains beyond reach."
Silence followed.Even those who carried arrogance in their hearts dared not challenge such a demonstration of power.
Then, Yue Zhen lowered his hand.
"The rules are simple.His voice carried across the vast chamber. "Step onto the stage, and challenge whomever you desire."
A single, weighted pause.
"Tonight, let strength speak louder than words."
---
The banquet that had begun with wine and whispered speculation had now evolved into a true contest of supremacy.
The disciples looked at one another, assessing their rivals, measuring their strategies. Some wore smirks of confidence, others concealed their nervous anticipation beneath composed expressions.
And among them, Lou Tianyu sat unmoving, his eyes watching, waiting.
The first warrior would rise.
The first challenge would be issued.
And Silverleaf would witness legends take shape.