"What is that...?"
Everyone turned in the same direction, as if pulled by an invisible thread.
The Sect Master of Wentiān Sect abruptly stood up. His face turned deathly pale. Without saying a word, he flew off toward the source of the disturbance.
Only one thought echoed in his mind—It's over.
Wentiān Sect is finished.
The others from Wentiān Sect immediately followed, panic written on their faces. Only Song Wanníng remained calm, her expression devoid of surprise.
Even so, she followed after them.
The other sects were stunned for a brief moment. Then joy erupted across their faces. No longer caring about the duel they had come for, they surged after Wentiān Sect.
Inside the ancestral hall, disciples were kneeling all over the floor, eyes wide with disbelief. Just moments ago, the soul lamp of their Divine Transformation elder, Fang Zhouzi, had gone out. The tolling of the death bell still echoed faintly. Many of the disciples collapsed to the ground, as if their strength had been drained in an instant.
The Sect Master had ordered them to monitor the two Divine Transformation elders closely. But just as the soul lamp burned steadily, it suddenly extinguished—Without warning. Without a trace.
No one had time to react.
Less than a minute later, every Nascent Soul cultivator in Wentiān Sect arrived at the ancestral hall. When they saw the disciples kneeling in silence, the Sect Master himself lost all strength and fell from the air. The blow struck every member of Wentiān Sect like a thunderclap. No one could believe what they were seeing.
Just earlier, they had been doing everything they could to buy time, clinging to the hope that Wentiān Sect could hold on to its status as a first-tier sect. Now, reality had slapped them across the face. The light in their eyes dimmed. Even as Nascent Soul cultivators, they could not maintain composure.
The Sect Master closed his eyes for a long moment. His entire being radiated helplessness. When he opened them again, his gaze had grown distant, almost peaceful.
There was no turning back now. He no longer had the power to change the outcome. All he could do was accept it. The weight pressing down on his chest finally lifted. He no longer needed to live in constant dread.
He slowly stepped into the ancestral hall. When he saw Fang Zhouzi's soul lamp extinguished, his eyes turned red.
Fang Zhouzi had been his martial uncle, his master's only junior brother.
His master had been the former Sect Master of Wentiān Sect. He had poured his heart and soul into the sect, sacrificing his own cultivation time. Because of that, he never reached Divine Transformation and eventually died. On his deathbed, his master had been most worried about Fang Zhouzi.
The man had always been reckless, exploring perilous lands across the world. He often returned bloodied and barely alive. And now, the very thing his master had feared had come to pass.
In truth, the Sect Master had already felt a sense of foreboding when they first lost contact with the two elders...
"So it was Martial Uncle Fang after all..."
Song Wanníng stepped into the ancestral hall and let out a quiet sigh. But her face remained cold, the indifference barely concealed. She had little connection to Fang Zhouzi. They had barely even met. Naturally, she felt no grief.
Still, seeing the Sect Master so distraught struck her as unexpected.
So even someone obsessed with personal gain could feel genuine emotion?
"Fang Zhēnshèng has passed?" The Sect Master of Qīxīng Sect entered with the leaders of the other sects. Though inwardly thrilled, they all wore expressions of solemn regret.
"Death is final. Please accept our condolences."
They offered a few polite words, but their minds had already begun dividing up Wentiān Sect's resources.
The disciples of Wentiān Sect clenched their fists in silence.
But...
There was no room left for reversal. The news of Fang Zhouzi's death spread like wildfire. When the Sect Master of Wànjiàn Sect received word, he burst into laughter.
"Hahaha! Heaven truly favors me!" Without delay, he gathered his disciples and sped toward Wentiān Sect.
Meanwhile, those stationed around Wentiān Sect's territory were left in despair.
Just like that, their proud sect had fallen?
No one could accept it.
But the day of negotiation arrived quickly.
Six sects and four clans gathered in the Sect Master's Hall. Only Wàngshān Sect wore grim expressions. Everyone else looked smug, basking in their own delight.
Nearly all of Wentiān Sect's Nascent Soul cultivators had arrived. In the cultivation world, sect classification followed strict rules. A first-tier sect was required to have at least three Divine Transformation cultivators. If one was lost, the remaining two could maintain the status only if their strength was outstanding.
This forced many Divine Transformation cultivators to suppress their breakthroughs, waiting until a suitable successor appeared before ascending to the Spirit Realm. But not everyone made it. Many cultivators eventually died in regret after years of stagnation.
In cases like Wentiān Sect's, the sect would be stripped of its rank and demoted to a mid-tier sect. All resources in excess of the mid-tier threshold would be redistributed to others.
This included the cities and clans under Wentiān Sect's protection. From now on, their taxes would go to other sects. The guards posted in those areas would also be replaced.
If Wentiān Sect wanted to rise again, they would need to produce three Divine Transformation cultivators once more. But rising again? That was easier said than done.
Many cultivators never even reached the Nascent Soul stage. Those who made it to Divine Transformation were exceedingly rare. And with fewer resources, there would be less cultivation material to raise disciples. Progress would slow.
The new disciples would be of lower aptitude, and fewer talented ones would even consider joining.
It was a vicious cycle.
Climbing back up would be nearly impossible.
Knowing this, the Sect Master of Wentiān Sect no longer fought it. He sat in his chair with a blank expression, watching as the others argued excitedly. No one from Wentiān Sect could bring themselves to smile. They were simply waiting for the final verdict. Their future was bleak. What path remained for them now?
"I object to part of this division. Specifically, Wàngshān Sect." The Sect Master of Wànjiàn Sect was the first to speak out. He had already heard about the duel, and naturally, he would not let Wàngshān Sect benefit from it.
The faces of the Wàngshān Sect leaders darkened.
So it was aimed at them after all.
"Regarding the duel, your sect's Liu Yiyi and Liu Yao acted irresponsibly, putting everyone's interests at risk. Their conduct nearly sabotaged the entire event. As a result, Wàngshān Sect will receive only five percent of the share."
As soon as he finished, the others began to chime in.
"Yes, I agree. Wàngshān Sect shouldn't get anything at all."
"Exactly. Just look at what your sect did. Unbelievable."
"It's only because we're being generous that we're giving you anything."
One voice after another piled on. The Sect Master of Wàngshān Sect turned livid. He could no longer hold back.
"Their actions were individual decisions. They don't represent our whole sect. This distribution is completely unfair!"
"Shouldn't we talk this over again?"
"Hmph. Didn't they represent Wàngshān Sect in the duel? How can you say it has nothing to do with you?"
The Sect Master of Yǔshòu Sect scoffed.
"In fact, I suspect Wàngshān Sect was colluding with Wentiān Sect from the start."
"You—!"
The Sect Master of Wàngshān Sect was left speechless, his chest heaving with rage.