Meanwhile, preparations at Jinao Island had entered their final stage.
More than three thousand natural arena areas had each been carefully selected and modified.
Some arenas were set atop cliffs, with bottomless abysses below.
Some were placed behind waterfalls, their watery curtains obscuring the view.
Others were positioned at the edge of volcanic craters, where geothermal heat distorted even the air.
Disciples moved through the venues. Some tested the stability of the arena formations, some recorded the terrain features of each location, and some discussed which arenas suited which types of matches.
The live broadcasts on Jinao Island had been tested back and forth more than a hundred times, each test passing perfectly.
Three thousand six hundred Formation Eyes operated simultaneously, transmitting images from every angle back to the central control platform.
The Formation Hall disciples stared at the Light Curtain, their fingers flying across the controls as they switched feeds, adjusted angles, and magnified details.
Iron Abacus stood behind the central control platform, watching the crisp images on the Light Curtain as the curve at the corner of his mouth grew wider and wider.
"This footage, this clarity... this selection is definitely going down in history."
Granny Yan stood beside him, expressionless.
"That's assuming nothing goes wrong."
"Nothing can go wrong."
Iron Abacus patted his chest.
"With the Formation Hall and Artifact Forging Hall working together, what could possibly go wrong?"
Granny Yan glanced at him.
"You said the same thing last time. Then you miscalculated an account and the sect lost three hundred thousand Contribution Points."
If she had not trusted him, she would have thrown him into solitary confinement back then.
Iron Abacus's hand froze against his chest. That was the dark chapter of his past he could never erase.
Was it really such a big deal?