CHAPTER 52: HUANG JIE SCHEMES

While Tian Lei was quietly mastering his cultivation technique in seclusion, deep within his personal realm, another gathering was taking place elsewhere within the sect.

Specifically, at the Void Peak Core Section—the domain where only the Core Disciples resided.

Inside the residence of Core Disciple Huang Jie, a meeting was underway. He sat atop a raised chair like an emperor on his throne, overlooking the group of gathered disciples before him—each one an Outer Sect member, still at the Mortal Rank.

His sharp gaze swept over them, predatory and cold.

"In one month," he began, his voice calm yet laced with quiet authority, "the Annual Sect Competition will take place."

A flicker of frost passed through his eyes.

"And among those participating this year... will be the newly accepted disciple chosen personally by the Sect Master."

He leaned forward slightly, his fingers tapping the armrest with deliberate rhythm.

"I only want one thing from all of you—whoever defeats and humiliates that new disciple will receive a reward from me."

With that, he gestured toward the nearby altar.

On it sat 1,000 Spirit Stones, neatly arranged in glowing pouches. Beside them, several crystal bottles shimmered faintly, each containing round, glimmering Qi-Gathering Pills—rare and highly sought after.

The disciples’ eyes widened. A few even gulped visibly.

Such a reward wasn’t just generous—it was extravagant.

"I’m not asking," Huang Jie continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. "This is your chance to prove yourselves."

One by one, the gathered disciples nodded and voiced their response.

"Don’t worry, Senior Brother! We’ll crush him!"

"He’ll regret stepping foot into the sect!"

"We’ll handle it personally!"

The air grew tense. Their words were sharp, eager, and venomous.

But beneath it all, Huang Jie simply smirked.

He could see it clearly.

The flames of rivalry. The hunger for reward. The perfect tools for his ambition.

And all it would take... was a single spark.

The low hum of spiritual pressure lingered in the air like a blade drawn but not yet swung.

Huang Jie rested his chin against his knuckles, scanning the outer sect disciples one last time. Each of them wore eager, competitive expressions—some nervous, others vicious. All of them oblivious to the deeper game being played.

"One more thing," he said, his voice soft, but laced with quiet finality. "This isn’t just about defeating him."

The room stilled.

"No—shatter him. Break his spirit. Destroy his reputation before he even has the chance to plant roots in this sect."

A hush fell.

"I don’t care how you do it—challenge him, provoke him, frame him—whatever it takes. Just make sure when the Elders watch the ceremony, they see him as nothing more than a disgrace."

He stood, the hem of his robe brushing the polished floor as a gust of cold spiritual pressure flickered out from his body.

"Remember," Huang Jie said, tone silky smooth, "I don’t reward effort. I reward results."

With a wave of his hand, the meeting was dismissed.

The disciples bowed and retreated, their minds already racing with tactics and traps.

Meanwhile, back at Tian Lei’s training ground, he calmly gazed at the many dummies he had just defeated. Though his breath was heavy from exertion, his eyes remained composed. He had been at this for quite some time—mastering the Vanishing Reaper Sword Art to near perfection.

"Finally... this feels more like a proper assassin’s blade," he muttered under his breath.

After testing a few other arts as well, Tian Lei eventually returned to cultivation. He had now mastered the necessary techniques for the moment, and the next logical step was to raise his cultivation level. However, he knew all too well—advancing too quickly could result in an unstable foundation.

So, after a few more days of cultivation and spiritual recovery, he decided to change his location. On the second floor of his pagoda, he moved to a different chamber filled with cerulean mist—like fog infused with mana essence. The ambient environment was pure and saturated with magical energy.

There, in the stillness, he began forming his Arcane Soul Marks—the crucial foundation of his mana or mage path.

He sat cross-legged at the center of the room, closed his eyes, and entered deep meditation.

For the next twenty days, he did nothing but focus on forming his Arcane Soul Marks. His soul trembled and stabilized with each breakthrough.

Finally, on the morning of the twenty-first day, the talisman at his waist pulsed gently, alerting him.

"Senior Disciple Tian, the Sect Competition is about to begin. You’re summoned," a respectful voice rang from outside.

Tian Lei slowly opened his eyes, a faint gleam flickering within them as he looked down at his soul form. There, glowing brightly, were three beautiful cerulean rune patterns—his Three Arcane Soul Marks.

"Hmm. Not bad," he muttered as he stood up.

He returned to his immortal cave, took a bath, and changed into a fresh set of personal disciple robes—robes that symbolized his elite status within the sect.

With quiet confidence, Tian Lei stepped out of his residence and made his way toward Arena Peak, where the Sect Competition was being held. It was one of the ten grand peaks, used for tournaments, celebrations, and formal challenges.

After a short walk, he arrived and looked at the venue. There were many arenas, each assigned based on the scale of the matches. One by one, disciples were being placed into different arenas based on their level.

At the largest arena was a raised platform where the Sect Master, the nine Grand Elders, Core Elders, Inner Sect Leaders, and other sect elders were seated. They were arranged by rank, each in their respective section, all present to observe the new disciples competing.

Many times, disciples who barely passed the initial sect assessment revealed great potential during these events. The elders came not just to watch but to scout promising talents and potentially recruit them to their peaks or as personal disciples.

Tian Lei glanced around and saw the section where the participating disciples were seated. He walked over, passed through without drawing attention, and quietly sat down with them.