In the Preliminary Round plaza, Master Huang stared despondently at Zhao Hai's retreating back. The mouthful of blood rising in his throat never spilled out; he forcibly swallowed it back down.
A bitter, searing taste lingered in his heart.
He was no fool.
When the radiance of that supreme-grade heaven-reaching spirit treasure flying sword shot into the sky, he knew just how outrageously wrong he had been.
His divine sense swept over the sword from afar. Its artifact runes formed a seamless whole, its spirituality brimmed over, and its craftsmanship seemed utterly natural. Where was there even the slightest trace of a shortcut?
Those immortal artifacts in the Haotian Pavilion shop whose craftsmanship had seemed so crude...
Could that have been some unheard-of refining technique that returned to simplicity and truth?
An absurd thought surfaced in his mind, sending a chill through him.
He had no face to remain. Although the people around him knew nothing of his meddling, he still felt thorns digging into his back, so he slunk away into the crowd.
Meanwhile, the rumor that "Gui No. 9" had refined a supreme-grade heaven-reaching spirit treasure using standard-issue materials swept like the wind through the artifact refiners of Hundred-Creation Immortal City, adding a mysterious topic of conversation to the imminent Myriad Artifacts Conference.
Zhao Hai paid no attention to the ripples he had left behind.
He had just returned to the temporary cave abode prepared for contestants and had yet to activate its wards when he found a young man dressed as an outer-sect steward of Hundred-Creation Mountain waiting outside.
"Fellow Daoist Zhao, I am Fang Ping, an outer-sect steward of Hundred-Creation Mountain." Wearing a deliberately fashioned smile, the young man stepped forward to greet him.
Zhao Hai stopped and looked at him calmly.
"What is it?"
"Fellow