Wang Quan passed through the bustling crowd and headed outside.
Some cultivators of the [Northern Deep] Lineage saw him and felt he looked rather lonely, as though he did not belong at this banquet.
"A country cultivator is still a country cultivator. He'll never fit into a grand occasion!"
"But once the magical contest at Sleeping Dragon Mountain ends in a few days, if he survives, he'll surely be able to join our circle."
"When that time comes, should we put him in the Clear Breeze Sect? Or the Clear Spirit Sect?"
"Forget it. Let him draw lots then!"
"Those two sects are nothing but watchdogs for our [Northern Deep] Lineage anyway."
"Either will do!"
On an unremarkable hill in the Sleeping Dragon Mountain Range, Wang Quan climbed onto the Five-Colored Altar.
After a little thought, he slapped his Hundred-Treasure Pouch and released ten cartloads of Sandalwood Incense in one go.
Whoosh!
He opened his mouth and spat out a jet of flame. The ten cartloads of Sandalwood Incense burned, their billowing incense smoke merging into the incense cloud above his head.
The ten cartloads of Sandalwood Incense burned away.
Wang Quan grabbed a command flag, waved it left and right, and began working his magic while muttering away.
He cast spell after spell, spat out [Drowning Water], and used the Five-Colored Altar's blessings and other means to amplify their power.
The many spells were held ready without being unleashed, settling into a white jade box and turning into beads that silently awaited Wang Quan's release.
A cup of tea's time later, Wang Quan had prepared a hundred and eight spells.
Now, he replaced his Spell Pill to replenish his Dharma Power.
Whoosh!
Wang Quan exhaled a turbid breath, a vicious gleam flashing through his eyes. "Back then, some