Battlefield Secret Realm

The fortress ruins were livelier than Qin Yuan had imagined.

More than twenty people were gathered in the hall, most wearing sect uniforms of various colors, clustered in groups of three or five in the corners.

Some were cleaning their weapons, some were bandaging wounds, and others were huddled around a crude map, discussing in low voices.

As Qin Yuan and Zi Ling walked in, several gazes swept over them.

"Two more have arrived," a middle-aged cultivator with a scarred face glanced over and lost interest. "Judging by their clothes, another sect's prodigy is here for training."

"With the secret realm appearing recently, more and more young people are coming," a one-eyed old man beside him shook his head. "They don't know the meaning of death."

Clearly, these were veterans who had seasoned themselves in the ancient battlefield for years, and they were unimpressed by "young prodigies" like Qin Yuan.

Zi Ling's shoulder wound had been simply bandaged. She whispered to Qin Yuan, "Thank you... If it weren't for you just now, I'm afraid I..."

"Just helping out," Qin Yuan said lightly. "What are those things?"

"Abyssal Demons," Zi Ling said with a grave expression. "Remnants of the ancient battlefield, they are immortal and only know slaughter. However, they usually operate in the deeper parts and rarely appear on the periphery. This time..."

She paused, a hint of confusion flashing in her eyes. "It's as if something has disturbed them."

As they were speaking, footsteps could be heard from outside again.

Chu Wuyue, Yun Qingyao, and Han Bing walked in, all bearing injuries, though not serious. Ye Guying was the last to enter, a torn gash on his left arm, his face grim.

Seeing Qin Yuan, the group breathed a sigh of relief.

"Junior Brother Qin!" Chu Wuyue's white pupils lit up. "You're here too!"

Upon seeing the Xuan Yuan Sect disciples, Zi Ling's expression changed slightly—she recognized them as the disciples from that "bottom-tier sect" she had encountered in the City of Darkness. Yet, now it seemed, these individuals, though battered, were all alive.

And her four other disciples from the Zi Xiao Sect...

"Senior Sister Zi Ling!" a shout suddenly came from outside.

Two blood-soaked youths in purple robes stumbled into the fortress. Upon seeing Zi Ling, they nearly cried out, "Senior Sister! Junior Brother Wang and Junior Sister Li... they're dead!"

Zi Ling staggered, her face instantly turning pale.

Qin Yuan glanced over, saying nothing.

Everyone gathered in the fortress hall, exchanging information.

"The Abyssal Demons suddenly went berserk because a spatial distortion appeared in the core area of the battlefield," the one-eyed old man said solemnly. "A rift opened there, revealing a secret realm. The Abyssal Demons are extremely sensitive to the aura of secret realms and were all drawn there."

"A secret realm?" Chu Wuyue raised an eyebrow. "What's inside?"

"Who knows," the scarred middle-aged man scoffed. "But a secret realm that can cause spatial distortion is definitely not simple. Sects are rushing there now, all wanting a piece of the pie."

Qin Yuan's heart stirred.

A secret realm... Perhaps this was the opportunity for him to break through to the Nascent Soul stage.

"We came at the wrong time," Yun Qingyao said softly. "We only came for training, but we ran into a secret realm appearing."

"So what if we ran into it?" Chu Wuyue's white pupils glinted with fighting spirit. "With opportunities before us, how can we miss them?"

Han Bing and Ye Guying said nothing, but their eyes also showed a flicker of interest.

Zi Ling bit her lip, looking at the two surviving junior disciples, her gaze conflicted—she wanted to go to the secret realm, but feared losing more people.

Finally, she took a deep breath. "Let's go. Junior Brother Wang and Junior Sister Li can't have died in vain."

The group decided to depart the next day.

The next day, there were indeed far fewer Abyssal Demons on the battlefield.

Qin Yuan and his group of seven—five from Xuan Yuan Sect and two from Zi Xiao Sect—advanced towards the core area.

Along the way, they occasionally encountered scattered Abyssal Demons, all of whom Qin Yuan dealt with casually. His movements were concise and swift; often, before the Abyssal Demons could even get close, they were shattered by a punch or exploded by a finger strike.

At first, Zi Ling and her two junior disciples were shocked, but later they became numb.

"Fellow Daoist Qin... what exactly is your cultivation?" Zi Ling couldn't help but ask.

"Golden Core peak," Qin Yuan replied nonchalantly.

Zi Ling's mouth twitched—equally at the Golden Core peak, she had to fight desperately to deal with two or three Abyssal Demons, while Qin Yuan made it look like chopping vegetables.

Chu Wuyue, however, was unfazed and even chuckled, "Fairy Zi Ling, you'll get used to it. Our Junior Brother Qin cannot be judged by common sense."

Yun Qingyao also nodded slightly.

But Qin Yuan knew that such strength was not enough to be seen in the Hundred Sects Battle.

The Hundred Sects Battle gathered the most top-tier geniuses in all of Qingzhou. The True Disciples of the top thirty sects were almost all at the Nascent Soul stage. No matter how strong a Golden Core cultivator was, facing a Nascent Soul cultivator was like the difference between heaven and earth.

Unless... he also broke through to the Nascent Soul stage.

Three days later, the group arrived at the core area.

It was a vast basin, and the wind and sand were much less than in the outer regions. In the center of the basin, a hundred-zhang-tall spatial rift hung in the air. Inside the rift, colorful light flowed, and the faint shadows of mountains and rivers could be seen.

Below the rift, hundreds of people had already gathered.

They wore sect uniforms of various colors, divided into more than a dozen small groups, maintaining a safe distance from each other. The air was filled with a tense atmosphere, and gazes were exchanged frequently, filled with scrutiny and vigilance.

As Qin Yuan and his group appeared, several gazes swept over them.

"Someone else is here."

"Look at their clothes... Xuan Yuan Sect? That sect at the very bottom?"

"Tch, they dare to come join the fun?"

The murmurs weren't loud, but they clearly reached everyone's ears.

Chu Wuyue's white pupils turned cold, clouds and mist surged around Yun Qingyao, and Han Bing and Ye Guying wore grim expressions.

Zi Ling, meanwhile, led her two junior brothers toward the group where the Zi Xiao Sect members were gathered—there were already seven or eight purple-robed cultivators there, and they quickly went to meet her upon seeing her.

Qin Yuan's expression was calm, as if he hadn't heard the gossip.

Just then, a mocking voice rang out:

"Yo, isn't this the folks from Xuan Yuan Sect?"

Qin Yuan turned his head and saw the young monk from Dust Temple—Kong Ming—standing with disciples from two other sects. The people from those two sects revealed looks of disdain upon hearing the words "Xuan Yuan Sect."

Kong Ming clasped his hands together and smiled, "Is Sect Master Lu doing well?"

Though seemingly a greeting, the words were a veiled jab—the Sect Master of Xuan Yuan Sect personally led the team, yet only sent five Golden Core disciples, truly making them the bottom-ranked among the hundred sects.

Just as Chu Wuyue was about to speak, Qin Yuan calmly replied, "Thank you for your concern, Master. The Sect Master is well."

A flicker of surprise flashed in Kong Ming's eyes, and he then returned to his peaceful demeanor, "That's good. The secret realm is dangerous, everyone... be careful."

After speaking, he paid them no further mind and turned to continue conversing with those beside him.

"Those are people from the Vajra Sect and the Spirit Sword Sect," Yun Qingyao whispered. "Both are ranked in the top twenty among the hundred sects, possessing immense strength."

Qin Yuan nodded and stopped paying attention.

Time trickled by.

More and more people gathered, exceeding two hundred in number. The members of the various sects were clearly separated, maintaining a wary distance from each other.

Finally, as dusk began to fall, the spatial rift suddenly widened!