「Ten days later.」
In the Outer Realm near Holy Tomb Mountain, space suddenly rippled. A massive spatial tunnel immediately expanded outward from the center of the fluctuation...
"Is this... Holy Tomb Mountain?"
The voice arrived before its owner, sounding calm and unconcerned. It was followed by twelve figures—some tall, some burly, some slender. The speaker was their leader, none other than Mu Chen.
Gazing into the distance, Mu Chen beheld a sight of unparalleled beauty. They were on a mountain peak hundreds of miles from Holy Tomb Mountain, the traditional gathering point for its new initiates. After all, passing the Imperial Tournament merely earned them a ticket inside. To truly enter, they had to rely on their own strength. This... was the trial of Holy Tomb Mountain.
"Mu Chen, looks like we’re a bit early. The guys from the other Empires haven’t arrived yet," Long Xiaotian said, glancing around. Though he knew a great deal about Holy Tomb Mountain, he had never actually seen it with his own eyes. Gazing upon it now, he thought it looked like a paradise from the heavens.
"Stupid dragon, who’re you saying hasn’t arrived?"
Just then, a voice suddenly drifted up from below Mu Chen and the others. Looking down, they saw three teams—eighteen people in total—chatting idly on a man-made platform on the mountainside. As their eyes met, Mu Chen realized that the true gathering point wasn’t the summit, but that very platform.
And the three teams currently seated on the platform were, of course, the teams from the Ice Emperor Dynasty, the Sacas Dynasty, and the Luowei Dynasty.
"Jilal! Has it been a few years since I beat you? Are you itching for another round? Who are you calling stupid?"
Seeing the familiar face below, Long Xiaotian grinned and leaped down to confront the handsome, blond-haired, green-eyed man.
The others reacted to Long Xiaotian’s appearance in their own ways. Shi Mu Hua, dressed in scholar’s robes, simply waved his fan, a slight smile on his lips. In contrast, Guo Zijie—clad in a black robe and clutching his Poison Cauldron, a man no one dared stand within ten feet of—let out a cold snort. He arrogantly sized up Mu Chen’s group, but when his gaze landed on Mu Chen, he trembled from head to toe. He hastily turned and sat in a corner, even pulling his hood low, terrified that Mu Chen would recognize him.
As Martial Artists, and elite ones at that, their perception of their surroundings was exceptionally sharp. A moment ago, everyone on the platform had been focused on Long Xiaotian. But Guo Zijie’s sudden movement caused everyone to shift their gaze to the blue-haired man in white carrying a black case.
"Mu Chen..."
Suddenly, everyone recalled the Imperial Tournament and the man who had caused a sensation throughout the Four Great Dynasties. Looking again at Guo Zijie, his reaction was no longer a mystery. After all, despite Guo Zijie being an Emperor Realm Poison Cauldron Master, Mu Chen was the first person to ever land a blow on him—and had proceeded to beat him for a full half-hour. Recalling the sight of Guo Zijie getting thrashed, several of them stared at Mu Chen with odd expressions.
"Why are you all looking at me like that...?" Mu Chen stared back at the crowd in surprise, wondering why everyone, who had been perfectly normal a moment ago, was suddenly acting so strange.
However, before Jilal or the others could answer, a white, ethereal figure suddenly materialized in the center of the platform. He possessed an otherworldly grace, as if completely untouched by the mortal world.
"Elder Bai!"