CHAPTER 65: CHAPTER 65: THE INVITATION FOR SECT-CLAN TOURNAMENT

The first light of dawn broke across the horizon, casting a golden hue upon the majestic courtyards of the Sanatan Flame Sect. The rays of the rising sun spilled across tiled roofs and ancient stone walls, making the sect shimmer with vitality. Birds chirped from distant groves, and the faint echo of training swords clashing in the distance carried the rhythm of life in the sect.

Before the freshly built Mission Hall, two disciples stood in silence, their heads tilted slightly as they admired the new structure.

Xiao Rui squinted at the building, his tone filled with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

"So, now we have a Mission Hall."

Beside him, Lee Bie folded his arms, a faint grin tugging at his lips.

"Yeah, it’s crazy."

Their moment was interrupted as two more figures walked lazily toward them. Cheng Fang, tall and spirited, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, while Zong Bu dragged his feet, yawning as if he had carried the weight of ten sleepless nights.

Zong Bu blinked drowsily at the imposing structure.

"Huh? What is this building?"

Cheng Fang tilted his head, confusion clouding his face.

"Mission Hall? What is this?"

Xiao Rui let out a long sigh, exasperation flashing in his eyes.

"It’s your fault that you wake up this late."

Lee Bie quickly followed up, scolding them as well.

"Exactly. Elder Wu has already explained everything about this Mission Hall."

Cheng Fang stretched his neck with a groan, his voice laced with excuses.

"What can I do? Elder Feng Yu was training me till midnight. I didn’t get my beauty sleep."

Xiao Rui raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.

"And what is your excuse, Zong Bu?"

Rolling his shoulders with a wince, Zong Bu spoke with nonchalance.

"Well, I was dueling with Sheng Lu. A pure hand-to-hand combat. I got beaten very badly by him... so I’m just resting."

The two latecomers exchanged sheepish glances, but Xiao Rui shook his head.

"Whatever. Let’s go. I’ll explain everything."

Together, the four disciples pushed open the heavy doors and entered the Mission Hall.

The interior was vast yet empty, its polished wooden floors gleaming beneath the streams of sunlight filtering through tall windows. The air smelled faintly of new paint and burning incense. Along the walls hung tapestries of flame emblems, and at the center of the hall stood rows of neatly placed tables meant for recording missions.

Behind one of those tables, sprawled lazily across his desk, Meow Mao was sound asleep, his light snoring filling the otherwise silent hall.

The disciples, however, were too awestruck to bother him. Their eyes swept across the grand chamber until Cheng Fang’s gaze caught something on the right wall. His eyes widened in disbelief.

"Hey, look at this!"

The others turned, their gazes following his finger. There it stood: a massive Disciple Ranking Board, carved from polished obsidian and etched with glowing golden letters. Names gleamed across the surface.

1st place: Wang Tian – 100 Contribution Points.

2nd place: Luo Chen – 90 Contribution Points.

3rd place: Muo Qian – 70 Contribution Points.

4th place: Su Quan – 50 Contribution Points.

5th place: Xu Ran – 30 Contribution Points.

6th place: Xiao Lian – 10 Contribution Points.

The group stared in collective shock.

Zong Bu was the first to break the silence, his jaw dropping.

"What the hell is this ranking?"

Xiao Rui, already growing tired of explaining, sighed once again. He patiently began to explain the details of the Mission Hall. Zong Bu and Cheng Fang nodded along, finally understanding the system of Contribution Points and missions.

After a moment of silence, Cheng Fang furrowed his brows.

"This hall was just opened today. And the ranking is based on the points we earn by completing missions, right?"

Xiao Rui nodded firmly.

Suddenly, Zong Bu’s voice erupted like thunder.

"Then how the hell did they already gather this much Contribution Points?!"

Even Lee Bie looked shocked, disbelief flashing across his face.

"How would we know? Wang Tian and Luo Chen weren’t even in the morning class where Elder Wu explained everything. So how did they get this ranking?"

Their heated chatter stirred the sleeping Meow Mao. With a loud yawn, he rubbed his eyes and sat up, blinking at the noisy group.

Spotting him awake, Xiao Rui approached with a bright smile.

"Oh, how are you, Meow Mao? Or should I say, Elder?"

Lee Bie grinned and gave him a light fist bump.

"You’ve become an Elder. Congrats."

Meow Mao scratched his head, yawning again.

"Yeah... Master made me Elder and caretaker of this Mission Hall."

Curiosity gleamed in Zong Bu’s eyes as he pointed toward the Ranking Board.

"When did they start their missions?"

Meow Mao’s face fell, his earlier nonchalance vanishing into mild frustration.

"Don’t ask about this. Others are fine... but those two brats, Wang Tian and Luo Chen—they came here even before sunrise. They asked me everything about this Mission Hall and immediately started their missions."

He shook his head, still incredulous.

"Slowly, the others came after Elder Wu’s morning explanation class. But those two... they were already gone."

The four disciples stood stunned.

Xiao Rui sighed deeply.

"Let’s just forget about those two."

Lee Bie shrugged in agreement.

"Yeah, we shouldn’t care what they do. They’re unbelievable."

Their conversation soon shifted into laughter and casual chatter. It was clear that their bond with Meow Mao was strong—more like a friend than an Elder. After browsing through the available tasks, they each selected Elite-level missions, their scrolls glowing faintly as they accepted them. With cheerful waves, they left the hall to begin their journeys.

Not long after, Shaurya emerged from the Main Hall, stretching lazily as sunlight warmed his face. He let out a content sigh.

"Whoa, I got a nice sleep. The day is also great."

With a grin, he pulled out a chilled chocolate milkshake from his system storage and took a long sip as he walked toward the Mission Hall.

Inside, Meow Mao quickly stood at attention, bowing respectfully.

Shaurya raised his hand casually and winked. But as his eyes drifted toward the Disciple Ranking Board, the sight nearly made him choke. He spat out his milkshake in utter shock.

"What the hell?! They already advanced this much? These two... I guess I’ll have to train those training freaks in how to enjoy life too."

Meow Mao could only nod at his words, still smiling faintly.

Shaurya turned back to him with a playful grin.

"Okay then. Work with all your heart."

Without another word, he strolled out of the hall, sipping the rest of his milkshake.

Meow Mao waved him off, then slumped back into his chair with a sigh of relief.

"Hm. Becoming an Elder of a hall like this is not that bad. Just caretaking the hall and enjoying life... I hardly have to do anything."

---

Outside, Shaurya walked leisurely across the courtyard, the creamy sweetness of chocolate lingering on his tongue. He glanced up at the wide blue sky, its clouds glowing golden in the morning light. Then, turning his gaze toward the unseen audience, he smirked knowingly.

"You know what time it is? Time-skipping time."

He threw a punch forward, and the screen went black.

One Year Later

A full year passed in the blink of an eye.

The disciples of the Sanatan Flame Sect had endured relentless, soul-crushing training under Shaurya’s guidance. Day after day, they pushed their bodies and spirits beyond all limits. Physical training, mental training, and nonstop cultivation consumed their lives.

Now, nearly every disciple wore weight bracelets, each star representing a ton of crushing weight. Most had reached seven stars—seven tons pressing down on their bodies at all times. Even the lower-ranked disciples had reached five stars.

But among them, a few stood above the rest. Wang Tian, Luo Chen, Lu Fang, and Sheng Lu trained at the maximum—nine stars, nine tons each. And as if that weren’t enough, Wang Tian and Luo Chen frequently locked themselves in the Gravitational Training Chamber, where they endured forty times gravity while bearing nine tons of weight.

They were nothing short of insane.

Shaurya sat upon his grand throne, his head reclined on one hand, eyes closed, a faint smile curling across his lips.

"One year. A full year of peace. That’s great... but not for long."

As his words lingered in the hall, heavy footsteps echoed. A squad of royal guards marched inside, their armor clinking sharply. Leading them was a woman clad in resplendent royal armor, her face veiled with a black cloth mask.

She strode forward with graceful authority and bowed deeply.

"Greetings from the Royal Palace. We are here to deliver the invitation for the Sect-Clan Tournament."

Shaurya leaned forward, his smile sharpening.

"Oh? So the time has come."

One of the guards stepped ahead, carrying a luxurious red scroll bound with ropes of pure gold. With a flick of his wrist, Shaurya summoned it into his hand. He glanced at the scroll, spinning it casually in his palm, before smiling.

"Thank you for delivering the message."

The masked messenger bowed again.

"This is a special VIP invitation from our king. The tournament will begin in three days, in the Capital City."

Shaurya pressed his palms together in a respectful gesture, his tone calm yet filled with excitement.

"Understood. Thanks."

The messenger and her guards bowed once more before turning to leave.

As the hall fell silent again, Shaurya tossed the scroll lightly into the air and caught it, his smile widening.

"Sect-Clan Tournament... we are coming."

To be continued...