Li Yu’s hand tightened on his staff. His spiritual sense which was already unfurled sharpened to a razor's edge. He, like every other cultivator in the realm, was preparing for the bloodiest, most desperate battle of their entire lives. A four-way war for survival was about to begin. The air was so thick with killing intent it was almost hard to breathe.

Just as the first of the newly-arrived demons locked eyes with an allied-faction cultivator and prepared to charge, an unimaginable pressure descended from all directions at once.

"STOP!"

"CEASE!"

"DO NOT MOVE!"

"HOLD!"

It was not one voice but dozens. Auras of crushing power flared up simultaneously that they dwarfed the ambient bloodlust of the entire battlefield. Soul Formation experts. Not just one or two but the leaders of all factions. They weren't attacking; they were suppressing. Their collective spiritual pressure was a physical blanket, forcing the tens of thousands disciples to freeze in their tracks.

Li Yu’s eyes widened in genuine surprise. From the allied camp he felt the immense steady aura of Grand Elder Theron, the cold sharp presence of High Mystic Caelia and the blunt earthy power of Great Chieftain Korgath.

From the new arrivals, the leading demons and the primal beast-warriors, their own Soul Formation captains and warlords were roaring orders, their power flaring to control their newly-arrived bloodthirsty armies.

A war bloodbath had not erupted. The leaders in a shocking display of collective control had stopped it.

Li Yu had to admit, he had underestimated them. He had assumed the moment the new threats appeared the battlefield would devolve into a chaotic free-for-all. But these leaders, even the ones he considered his enemies, were not rash.

They were old, mature and thinking of the greater good for their own people. To allow their respective forces—their geniuses, their future hopes—to be completely annihilated in a four-way slaughter would be a loss too significant to bear.

The treasures of this realm were useless if there was no one left to bring them home. Their worth was also not enough to bring about this bloody battle.

The four groups, now under the iron-fisted control of their leaders, slowly and cautiously separated. The Allied Forces and the neutral human sects naturally gravitated together, forming a single, massive "Human Realm" bloc. Li Yu met back up with Kael and Jian Xuan. He had Kael return to the Koi Sanctuary.

Across the field, the Cultists—the mixed faction of human, beast and demonic cultivators that Li Yu had been fighting—formed their own, distinct group.

The two new rifts continued to pour out warriors but they were now being marshaled into two other quadrants by their own leaders. The two sides formed the "Demon Realm" and "Primal Beast Realm" blocs. A tense four-way standoff was established.

Then, the leaders acted.

Grand Elder Theron flew forward from the human bloc, his expression grim. "We face a new reality. A war on four fronts will destroy us all."

From the demonic horde, the six-armed Arch-Fiend Gorgoth flew forward, his 8th-Level Soul Formation aura radiating immense heat. He opened his fanged maw to speak and Li Yu felt a jolt of pure shock.

"You speak wisely, little human."

The demon's voice was guttural, harsh and terrifying but it was the same language.

"Indeed," boomed a new voice. Warlord Grok of the Primal Beasts, a tusked green-skinned giant, landed with a crash. "We came for techniques, plunder and battle but a war of scale and annihilation profits no one."

He, too, spoke the same language.

Li Yu’s mind reeled for a moment. How? Demons from another realm. Primal beasts from another realm. And they all spoke the same language as the humans on this continent. Did everyone come from the same place, long ago?

Were they all just... different, split-up branches of the same ancestral race? It was a question so profound it momentarily overshadowed the crisis at hand. He however, filed it away, a mystery to be solved later. He wouldn’t get his answer here.

A few minutes later, the leaders of the four factions moved to the center of the vast desolate plain. Great Chieftain Korgath slammed his hand on the basalt ground and with a grunt his 7th-Level Soul Formation earth-aspected Qi ripped a massive circular stone table and a dozen rough-hewn chairs from the battlefield floor.

One by one, they sat.

From the Human Realm (Allies + Neutrals):

* Great Chieftain Korgath (Ironheart Clans), 7th-Level Soul Formation.

* Grand Elder Theron (Forest of the Radiant Dawn), 6th-Level Soul Formation.

* High Mystic Caelia (Azure Spire), 6th-Level Soul Formation.

From the Demon Realm:

* Arch-Fiend Gorgoth, the six-armed leader, 8th-Level Soul Formation.

* Wraith-Lord Xy'la, a slender, shadow-wreathed demoness, 7th-Level Soul Formation.

* Gore-Baron Mael, a horned brute, 5th-Level Soul Formation.

From the Primal Beast Realm:

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* Warlord Grok, 7th-Level Soul Formation.

* Sky-Thane Zera, a winged, harpy-like woman, 7th-Level Soul Formation.

* Earth-Shaker Hurn, a minotaur-like warrior, 6th-Level Soul Formation.

And from the Cultists:

* High Priest Vrak, a human in dark robes, his face hidden by shadows, 7th-Level Soul Formation.

* The Red-Eyed Mistress, 6th-Level Soul Formation.

* The Armored General, 6th-Level Soul Formation.

Four sides. A new terrifying political landscape.

"This is a realm of opportunity, not a graveyard," Grand Elder Theron spoke first, his voice calm and reasonable. "A four-way war for this entire territory will benefit none of us."

"We agree," High Priest Vrak of the Cultists said, his voice oily. "Annihilation is... inefficient."

"Then we have a proposal," High Mystic Caelia said, her cold voice cutting through. "This battlefield is vast. But none of us has had time to scout it. We propose a simple even division. We must first map the realm."

She gestured to Jarek Volkov from the Human camp. The other factions, understanding the logic, gestured to their own specialists—a bat-winged demon with unnaturally large eyes, a hawk-like Primal Beast, and the Shadowy One himself from the Cultist side.

The four scouts shot into the sky, flying to the four corners of the realm at incredible speed. An hour later, they returned and their combined knowledge was used to create a massive magical projection of the battlefield on the stone table.

The realm was, indeed, a vast square, naturally divided by the rough geographic features found.

1. Quadrant 1 (North-West): The Volcanic Canyons & Ashen Plains.

2. Quadrant 2 (North-East): The Giant's Bonefield & Ancient Black Forests.

3. Quadrant 3 (South-West): The Desolate Flats & Hidden Crystal Caves.

4. Quadrant 4 (South-East): The Ruined Ancestral City & Surrounding Swamps.

"The map is drawn," Theron stated. "We split this realm into these four quadrants. Each faction claims one. You hunt, you harvest, you fight within your own territory. There will be no cross-border conflict."

Everyone agreed. But then the inevitable question came.

"The... volcano... is... ours," Arch-Fiend Gorgoth hissed, his gaze fixed on Quadrant 1. "The fire-essence is potent."

"The volcano is ours!" High Priest Vrak countered. "The ancestors of our gods may have dwelt there!"

"My people claim the Bonefields! The beasts of the forest will be our prey!" roared Warlord Grok.

The fragile peace was already breaking. No one knew which quadrant was best but they definitely wanted to decide their own fate.

"Then we will have to determine the order of who gets to choose first," Theron said. "We will let strength decide the order of choice."

The other leaders paused.

"A contest," Theron continued. "A simple tournament. Each of our four factions will put forth five champions. They must all be below the Soul Formation realm. Our future hopes will decide our future fortunes."

Gorgoth let out a sound that might have been a laugh. "Mortals... fighting... for our entertainment? This... is... acceptable."

The Cultists and the Primal Beasts also agreed. It was a clean solution, a classic cultivator contest of power.

"But how?" asked the Red-Eyed Mistress.

"It will be a semi-final. We will draw lots. Two factions will face each other. The other two will face each other. The two winners will then fight for the first and second pick of the quadrants. The two losers will fight for the third and fourth. It is simple. It is fast. No killing on purpose and the matches end when someone gives up or is knocked out." High Mystic Caelia said

This was agreed upon. A simple spinning rune of light was conjured. It spun and the matches were set.

* Match 1: Human Realm vs. Primal Beast Realm

* Match 2: Demon Realm vs. The Cultists

The leaders stood. The summit was over. They flew back to their respective, tense armies.

Theron, Korgath, and Caelia landed in the center of the Human Realm camp. A hush fell over the allied and neutral disciples.

"We have a path," Theron announced, his voice carrying. "We will fight for the right to choose our territory. The rest will be up to luck. Our first match is against the champions of the Primal Beast Realm. We must choose our five champions."

High Mystic Caelia spoke, her voice cold. "We must put forth our strongest. This is not a time for sect politics. It is a matter of survival for the Human Realm."

"Agreed," Great Chieftain Korgath boomed. "My Ironheart Clans will offer a champion. My son, Dargan! He will fight!" Dargan, standing nearby slammed his massive axe into the basalt, a shower of sparks erupting as he roared in approval.

High Mystic Caelia nodded. "The Azure Spire will do the same. Sylvia will fight." The cold blue-robed woman simply inclined her head.

"Two champions are set," Grand Elder Theron said. He looked at the assembled Allied Forces. "The remaining three will come from the Allied Forces. Based on the merit rankings and proven strength, our champions will be..."

He looked first to the Stone Binders' contingent. "Roric Heavystrike!" (Rank 1) The massive mountain-like man opened his eyes. He nodded.

"Evandra Vane!" (Rank 2) The Ashen Blade disciple showed her grim competitive smile. "It's about time."

Theron's eyes fell on the name on the list but he already knew who it must be. The merit list was one thing but strength was another. He looked up, his gaze sweeping over the thousands of disciples until his eyes landed on a single pristine white robe.

"And our fifth champion," Theron's voice boomed, cutting through the silence, "Little Crab!" (Rank 5)

They had all heard of his reputation now, the lunatic cultist who had killed two Soul Formation experts in the short time that he had appeared. No one questioned why 3rd, 4th or 5th wasn’t chosen from the merit list. Little Crab was crazy but that’s what they needed.

"Commander Little Crab," Theron called, his voice formal. "You are ranked fifth among our disciples but your reputation is known to all. You will represent the Human Realm in this contest."

Li Yu had been watching. This entire time, the series of events went in a direction completely different from his own expectations. From the arrival of the two forces until now, he did not guess correctly once about what was going to happen. While he didn’t want to fight and endanger himself, he knew it was a responsibility. One that came from strength and one he should do.

He nodded once. "I will do my part."

“The Crab God shall be honored!!” Jian shouted on the side.