Sitting on the extremely spacious platform, I chatted with a group of disciples. "The next round is the top thirty-two. It seems everyone will be participating. If we happen to face one another, there'll be no question of holding back. Of course, preserving your strength is an option too, but having a friendly match is only proper. After all, strength is forged through battle."
The disciples gathered around me, looking from the outside as if a bunch of bored people were playing cards here. But they were also each voicing their own opinions and speaking their minds. Since we had all come from the same ordinary inner sect interface, we had formed genuine bonds with one another.
Moreover, all the disciples here could go to the Heavenly Sword Immortal Sect for further training. Just thinking about it made everyone excited.
In truth, luck and Dao fortune were also forms of strength. After all, even the strongest person could stumble in a ditch, while those with excellent Dao fortune could enjoy a smooth road all the way. That was the immortal world.
It didn't take long. Once only thirty-two stars remained in the sky, the competition soon ended as well. One by one, we drifted into the air, using the stars as entrances, and quickly returned to the spectators' arena.
I looked toward the disciples who had been eliminated. Their expressions were naturally complicated, but without exception, they shot resentful looks at me. My skin was thick, though. This victory had been won through strength, so what was wrong with protecting my disciples? Who could blame them for not being from the same interface as me?
Besides, seven disciples from my side had also been eliminated, and I still had to spend time comforting them. Everyone was bound to feel depressed.