After tallying his rewards, Lin Feng turned his attention to the surveillance displays. Though he had known about the monitoring arrays, he hadn't realized their sheer number. Nearly half the island was covered, especially the central zone, where every critical location had arrays installed.
He scrutinized each screen, cross-referencing them with the monitoring points he'd spotted during his journey. Several had escaped his notice—mostly those too distant at the time.
He also confirmed two critical details:
First, no array covered the area where Duan Weiqi's group had been killed.
Second, the confrontation with Qin Yulong had been monitored.
Both aligned with his predictions, easing his mind considerably.
While observing, Lin Feng suddenly spotted Wang Chen in one feed. The young cultivator moved alone, crossing the monitored zone without incident. He appeared composed, likely facing no major trouble—though how many competition tokens he'd seized remained unknown.
Other screens showed scattered participants. Most traveled in small groups; solo figures were rare. Some merely passed through a feed's range, flashing across the screen and vanishing. Others battled demon beasts. A few clashed with fellow competitors. Unlike Lin Feng, these cultivators remained oblivious to the watchful arrays—their every move witnessed by all atop the mountain.
Lin Feng focused on several inter-participant fights. Most avoided lethal force: the loser typically surrendered tokens willingly, and the winner refrained from pursuit.
But one exception chilled him.
A solo participant, ambushed by two others, was swiftly and brutally killed—all captured by a nearby array.
In just half a day, Lin Feng witnessed four skirmishes between participants (one fatal) and one tragedy: a trio fleeing a Level Four demon beast, with one falling victim.
This was only what the arrays revealed… What horrors unfolded beyond their gaze?
He grimly estimated that fewer participants would reach the endpoint than he'd initially thought.
⋯⋯
Night bled into dawn—the fifth day of the competition, historically its fiercest phase. More figures flooded the screens, all converging toward the endpoint. Encounters multiplied; clashes erupted everywhere.
Lin Feng saw Wang Chen again—this time, intercepted by two rivals from another city. Yet the battle ended with Wang Chen's decisive victory. Though his artifacts offered some edge, triumphing against two opponents proved his skill far surpassed his cultivation level. Victorious, Wang Chen merely claimed their tokens, his triumphant grin suggesting a hefty haul.
Notably, Qin Yulong reappeared, now accompanied by a Black Dragon City ally. After escaping Lin Feng, he'd clearly regrouped—how many tokens he now held was unclear.
As more cultivators surfaced, reactions varied among the Nascent Soul experts atop the mountain. Relief, anxiety, and frustration played across their faces. Yu Ping, however, radiated calm. Lin Feng's staggering score had secured Zhenhai Alliance's top rank—they were guaranteed the grand prize.
Hours crept by. After noon, Lin Feng spotted several figures nearing the endpoint, Wang Chen among them. Barring disaster, they'd arrive before nightfall.
The final deadline was dawn of the sixth day. Latecomers forfeited rankings; only those who reached the endpoint would qualify.
With everything proceeding smoothly—and Wang Chen poised for a high rank—Lin Feng relaxed, stretching lazily.
"Hmm?!"
A tsunami of spiritual pressure suddenly erupted. Lin Feng whirled toward its source: Wang Yunkun of Loongtan City.
The man had shot to his feet, his face ashen with terror as he stared eastward. Before Lin Feng could process this, dozens of Nascent Soul experts followed suit—all rigid with alarm, eyes locked on the eastern horizon.
"What's happening?" Lin Feng's chest tightened. He strained his gaze eastward—and froze.
A streak of violet light tore across the sky, hurtling toward the island at impossible speed.
In the blink of an eye, the pinprick of light swelled into a blazing purple star—a meteor of pure power ripping through the heavens!
Lin Feng saw only the light's core. He turned to Yu Ping, but another expert's shout answered his unspoken question:
"Level Five Demon Beast!!"
"Level Five?!" Lin Feng's blood ran cold. At that instant, an oppressive aura crashed over him—a mountain of invisible force crushing his lungs. He gasped, his face draining of color.
No… Not just one aura!
Horror engulfed him as he sensed it: two distinct pressures. One radiated bestial fury, but the other…
"The beast is merely a mount! There's a rider!"
A Nascent Soul elder's cry confirmed Lin Feng's dread. The intruder was a cultivator astride a Level Five demon beast!
Shock paralyzed the mountaintop. Every face hardened. The intruder's trajectory and unrestrained, hostile aura left no doubt: this was an attack.
"Who is it?"
The silent question hung in the air. Cultivators exchanged grim glances, spiritual energy surging as they braced for battle.
Seconds later, the violet light reached Black Pine Island's airspace. The glow resolved into a gigantic Thunder Roc, its wings crackling with energy. Upon its back stood a figure whose power dwarfed even the beast beneath him.
A bead of sweat traced Lin Feng's temple. Unbidden terror flooded his eyes as a tsunami of realization surged in his heart:
"The Yin Corpse Sect… It's them!"
Though the rider's face remained unseen, the signature aura—corrupt, icy, reeking of death—could belong to no one else.