This left him with no chance to gauge the strength of those six.
Lin Ruoxi, Long Aotian, Zhao Wuji, Feng Wuji, Beichen Xing, Su Qingwan—every one of them was unfathomable.
He did not know their trump cards, did not know their strength, and did not know just how powerful they truly were.
That feeling left him deeply unsettled.
Time slowly passed.
In the battles that followed, no one challenged Qin Yan again.
No one wanted to become the next Ao Yuan. No one wanted to be pinned beneath him and stabbed over and over until they were covered in wounds.
Before long, afternoon arrived.
"Clang!"
"Clang!"
"Clang!"
The familiar bell rang out. Three long, resonant chimes echoed throughout the entire square.
The golden light atop the various Thrones slowly faded, signaling the end of the Challenge Tournament.
The Thrones behind the disciples vanished, turning into specks of golden light that enveloped them and gently lowered them to the ground.
"This End-of-Month Assessment has concluded!"
The white-haired elder's voice descended from the sky, concise and forceful.
With that, he turned and departed, his figure disappearing into the heavens.
Seeing that the competition was over, Qin Yan left the square under the reverent gazes of the disciples and headed back toward Mystic City.
He was far too busy!
He cultivated at the Holy Land during the day and worked shifts at the Heavenly Arena at night.
Running between the two kept his schedule packed full.
Yet such days were fulfilling and reassuring.
That night, Qin Yan returned to the Heavenly Arena.
In the VIP room, Zhu'er had already prepared tea and snacks. When she saw him return, she obediently greeted him.
Qin Yan nodded and looked down at the arena below. The matches had not yet begun, and the spectator seats