Martial Arena

The next day,

Under the blazing sun, the sect plaza was packed with people.

The vast plaza was now a sea of people, buzzing with deafening voices.

At this moment, nearly all the sect's servant disciples, along with a handful of outer disciples, had gathered here.

The sect had suddenly issued a weighty policy: all servant disciples over sixty had to prove their abilities through arena matches.

Those eliminated would be expelled from the sect; only the winners could remain.

Anyone who chose not to participate would be considered to have voluntarily forfeited and would have to pack up and leave immediately.

Quite a few servant disciples over sixty chose to withdraw outright.

Yet many still yearned for the Great Dao of immortality, or felt that although they did the dirty, exhausting work of servants within the sect,

there were things here that could not be obtained in the mortal world. Thus, even if immortality was beyond their reach, they still wished to linger on in the sect.

Most of the participating disciples were in the Body Tempering Realm. A few stewards or servant disciples who had cultivated for many years were at the early Qi Refining Realm.

The arena matchups were randomly assigned, and there would be only one round. Winners could remain in the sect.

There was an element of luck involved.

If you were a Body Tempering fifth-level disciple but were matched against someone at the third level, you might still stay in the sect.

Or, if you were a Body Tempering ninth-level disciple, already considered quite strong, but got matched against a Qi Refining disciple, then you would have no hope at all.

If you lost, you would still be kicked out of the sect!

On the raised platform, Wang Steward sat sprawled boldly on a chair, his hand wrapped in bandages as he gnawed on an apple.

"Steward, do you think Li Ping'an can beat his opponent?"

Wang Steward frowned and said,

"That old bastard's luck is truly good. He actually got matched with Zeng Xing from the Herbal Medicine Hall. Although Zeng Xing is at Body Tempering eighth level, I heard he was injured some time ago, so it's hard to say now."

He still remembered how, at the Waste Hall last time, they had been on the verge of killing Li Ping'an when the old man had suddenly become nimble and agile, with astonishing martial prowess and faint spiritual energy fluctuations around him.

He had even pulled out a Golden Light Talisman and viciously set him up, making him suffer a hidden loss.

Now, upon carefully observing Li Ping'an's bearing again, how did he look like an old man with one foot in the grave? The faint presence on his body was not merely at Body Tempering third level either—he was at least above the third level.

He was worried that if Zeng Xing lost this time, their subsequent plan would be impossible to carry out.

"Steward, I think that old bastard definitely can't beat Zeng Xing! After all, Zeng Xing is at Body Tempering eighth level. Even if he's suffered a minor injury, he's still no match for that damned old man."

A lackey brewed Wang Steward a cup of tea at his side and echoed his words.

But Wang Steward was preoccupied and merely nodded absentmindedly.

Zeng Xing could not lose. Their plan could not go down the drain!

Zeng Xing's injury was minor; it had not harmed his foundation.

Even if Li Ping'an had hidden his strength, he was just an old man who spent all day in the Waste Hall. Without resources, how much strength could he possibly have accumulated?

Besides, Senior Brother Zhang had given Zeng Xing a Qi-Blood Pill. That was Zeng Xing's confidence.

At that thought, his mood improved slightly.

Before the arena match, Wang Steward had sought out Zeng Xing and told him that he had to kill Li Ping'an on the platform. If he could not defeat him, he could swallow the Qi-Blood Pill at the most critical moment. His martial strength would then multiply, and he would crush his opponent to death no matter what.

Zeng Xing pounded his chest and guaranteed that even without the Qi-Blood Pill, he could easily crush Li Ping'an.

Wang Steward had also kindly reminded Zeng Xing:

He feared that Li Ping'an might be concealing his abilities. Zeng Xing had to be cautious on the platform. If anything felt wrong, he had to take the Qi-Blood Pill. Though it would bring backlash to his body, there would be ways to suppress it.

At the same time,

two female disciples dressed in inner sect robes stood behind the crowd, silently watching the arena matches and watching Li Ping'an.

One was around eighteen or nineteen, while the other was around twenty-seven or twenty-eight.

The younger one was pure and lovely in appearance. Her big eyes blinked curiously as she looked around, as though everything interested her.

The other possessed an outstanding bearing and elegant temperament, exuding the charm of a mature woman from head to toe.

They were Qingyue and Hong Ling. They had also come to watch Li Ping'an's match.

"Senior Sister, do you think my little brother can win in this arena match?"

Qingyue blinked her large eyes, her face full of worry.

"Who knows what the sect is up to, making this policy? Isn't this just driving away all the elderly disciples? Why are they doing this?"

Hong Ling looked calm, her beautiful eyes fixed on the noisy crowd below as she spoke with certainty,

"Don't worry. Li Ping'an is hiding himself deeply. He will definitely win."

Ever since her encounter with Li Ping'an in the alchemy room, Hong Ling had known that the old fellow's cultivation was far from as simple as it appeared!

At least Body Tempering ninth level, perhaps even higher!

Thus, she was not worried in the slightest that Li Ping'an would be eliminated in this arena match.

The entire plaza remained uproarious, with the crowd surging, discussions rising everywhere, and loud clamor filling the air.

Just then, a figure swept down from the horizon and landed directly atop the central platform in the plaza.

He was an old man with white hair and beard, dressed in a green Daoist robe, his expression stern.

"Silence!"

In an instant, an immense surge of spiritual power erupted from around him, reaching every disciple's ears with perfect clarity and even making everyone feel dizzy.

This man was powerful!

Everyone was startled.

This elder had clearly reached the Golden Core Realm to possess such tremendous spiritual pressure.

It seemed the sect attached considerable importance to this arena event, actually sending a Golden Core Realm elder to oversee it.

For a moment, the crowd began whispering among themselves.

The elder then announced loudly from the platform,

"This arena is also in response to sect policy: to eliminate the sect's aging problem and select truly capable disciples to remain in the sect. As for those who are indeed old and frail, unable to continue working in the sect, they will be properly settled."

"Now, the arena matches officially begin!"

Following the elder's announcement, the participating disciples, who had already been arranged into groups, all took their positions.

As the steward above read names from a list, the named disciples came onto the platform to fight.

In truth, these matches were not much to watch. They were all Body Tempering disciples who did not even know spells and could only fight with their bodies. At most, they could barely unleash a thread of spiritual energy, but it was hardly exciting.

Some did not even know fist techniques. The two of them would go up and posture like a pair of old men brawling, making the spectators laugh themselves silly.

Quite a few outer disciples below the platform shook their heads. These were servant disciples, after all. They truly could only ever be servant disciples.

The arena contests progressed quickly. Often, victory or defeat was decided in just one or two moves.

As group after group finished, it was soon Li Ping'an's turn.

"Li Ping'an, Zeng Xing, come onto the platform and compete!"