The colosseum trembled with noise as the white-robed elder raised his hand. His aura pressed down like a mountain, and silence blanketed the crowd.
"Five hundred geniuses, chosen from all five continents… Today, the Five Continents Tournament begins!"
The announcement sent a shockwave through the stands. Tens of thousands screamed, banners of empires and sects snapping in the wind.
The elder continued, his voice steady and solemn:
"The first round will not be simple duels. Instead, all participants shall be divided into groups of fifteen. Each group will be sent into a controlled forest, filled with spirit beasts prepared for this event. The hunt will last for one day and one night. Every beast slain will yield points according to its rank. At the end of the trial, the top one hundred participants with the highest scores shall be chosen."
Gasps rippled through the audience. A beast hunt as the opening test—this was far harsher than previous tournaments.
The elder's eyes gleamed.
"But the hunt is only the beginning. Those hundred will then be divided into five groups of twenty and brought into the arena to face one another. Ten duels each group. Only the strong… will advance."
The betting houses immediately lit up with activity, odds fluctuating wildly as scribes recorded the changes.
From the private viewing pavilion, Emperor Shen Hóngtú sat with his back straight, gaze sharp as a blade. Representatives of every superpower sat with him: the Sect Leader of the Bàtiān Sect with his calm, unreadable face; the matriarch of the Ouyang Clan with her cold smile; even the Southern Abyss Hall envoy with his hooded eyes. The air in the room was heavy, filled with unspoken challenges.
Down below, five hundred young talents stood like a forest of blades. Some were calm, some trembling with suppressed excitement, others radiating killing intent.
Among them: Princess Shen Ruòxuě, her aura as sharp as frost. Ling Han of the Bàtiān Sect, eyes calm but burning with ambition. Fang Yan, the Little Sword Master of the Yōuxuán Sect, standing as if his very body was a drawn sword.
The elder's hand rose. A ripple of spatial power spread, and portals began to form—each one glowing, leading to the controlled hunting grounds.
"Enter."
And the first round began.
——————————————————-
The forest was alive with killing intent. Moonlight filtered down through the canopy, catching the crimson glow of beast eyes that prowled in the dark. The air reeked of blood, sweat, and the metallic tang of spirit essence.
For a full day and night, five hundred young cultivators fought without rest. Beasts of the Profound and Spirit ranks lunged from the undergrowth, bones crunching and claws ripping, their roars shaking the ground. Yet the predators themselves became prey in the hands of geniuses who bore the weight of their sects and clans.
Some fought openly, their techniques tearing the forest apart with overwhelming displays of strength. Shen Ruòxuě's icy sword qi froze entire packs of wolves, each slash a storm of killing frost. Ling Han of the Bàtiān Sect fought like a tempest, his fists collapsing trees and spirit beasts alike, leaving behind only ruins. Fang Yan, the Yōuxuán Sect's Little Sword Master, cut with such precision that his battles seemed like paintings of inevitability—flawless, unshakable.
Others, however, were quiet. They killed efficiently, deliberately, leaving behind no traces. Their scores remained modest at first, but as the hours passed, their steady accumulation began to draw attention.
At a tall pavilion on the edge of the arena, the great betting houses projected the scoreboard into shimmering light. The names and points shifted constantly, glowing numbers climbing and falling as the hunt continued. Scribes rushed to adjust odds, while disciples and spectators crowded around, shouting and pointing.
"Look! Ling Han's at the top again! No, wait—the princess just overtook him with a streak kill!"
"Who is Lu Yanyue? A dark horse from the Lu Clan? She wasn't even on the list!"
"She's ranked third! Already tied with Fang Yan—impossible!"
Gossip exploded. For every cheer of astonishment, there was a voice of doubt. Yet the score list never lied.
Among the dark horses revealed that night were names unknown to the wider world:
• Lu Yanyue (Central Continent – Lu Clan) – the most dazzling, climbing into the top three.
• Yōuxuán Jian (Central Continent – Yōuxuán Sect) – a cold-eyed disciple who had never before stepped into the light, his swordplay surgical and precise.
• Shen Yueling (Central Continent – Shen Clan) – a silent young woman of the Shen Clan, overshadowed by the imperial princess, now rising with startling efficiency.
• Chi Wen (Central Continent – Shen Empire, soldier) – a common-born recruit under General Chi Dao, cutting down beasts with brute persistence, astonishing the crowd.
• Mu Renshu (Central Continent – Hundred Refinement Sect) – a calm craftsman-warrior who turned the tools of his trade into deadly weapons.
• Ba Tianlei (Central Continent – Bàtiān Sect) – the second genius secretly nurtured, his brutal style second only to Ling Han.
• Di Hanyue (Western Continent – Western Blade Sect) – a female swordswoman whose blade moved with snow-like silence.
• Hai Long (Southern Continent – Azure Tide Pavilion) – riding tidal waves of water qi, his control of elemental force startled even veteran watchers.
Together, these eight dark horses shattered the expectations of the ranking list.
Meanwhile, in the stands where disciples of every major power watched, arguments flared.
"Of course the Shen Princess holds second—she's the pride of the empire!" a Shen Empire youth shouted, puffing his chest.
A disciple of the Ouyang Clan sneered. "Second only because Ling Han has chosen not to rest for even a breath. If she fought him head-on, the result is clear."
"What about Lu Yanyue? She's surpassing Fang Yan himself—don't tell me the Lu Clan has been hiding this monster all along!"
Cries of protest, mockery, and fervent praise filled the hall. But in the private room above, where Emperor Shen Hóngtú and the leaders of superpowers sat together, the air was quiet. They watched the scoreboard shift, their eyes sharp, their expressions unreadable. Only a few subtle glances betrayed surprise… or quiet satisfaction.
Because they already knew: some of these "dark horses" were not accidents. They had been hidden, nurtured in the shadows for this very moment.
When the sun finally sank on the second day, the forest gates opened. One by one, battered, bloodied youths emerged from the portals. The final scoreboard glowed in golden letters for all to see:
1. Ling Han (Bàtiān Sect) – First Place
2. Princess Shen Ruòxuě (Shen Empire) – Second Place (margin negligible)
3. little Sword Master and Lu Yanyue (Lu Clan, Dark Horse)– Third Place (tied)
4. Fang Yan – Fourth Place (tied)
5. Yōuxuán Jian (Yōuxuán Sect, Dark Horse)
6. Ba Tianlei (Bàtiān Sect, Dark Horse)
7. Shen Yueling (Shen Clan, Dark Horse)
8. Di Hanyue (Western Blade Sect, Dark Horse)
9. Ouyang Qi (Ouyang Clan)
10. Chi Wen (Shen Empire soldier, Dark Horse)
The crowd erupted, half in disbelief, half in worship. The betting houses immediately scrambled, odds shifting with violent swings. The old ranking list was already obsolete.
And with that, the hunt was over.
Tomorrow, the arena battles would begin.