Four days had passed since the Sect–Clan Tournament ended in triumph.

The morning sun blazed high above the horizon, painting the skies in a pale gold. Its warmth fell over the endless valley, where the Sanatan Flame Sect's temporary camp stretched across the green meadows like a small city. White tents gleamed under the light, their banners fluttering gently in the soft breeze. The air carried the rhythmic sounds of cultivation—fists striking the air, swords cutting through space, and the calm chants of disciples seated cross-legged, immersed in meditation.

Elder Wan, Elder Liya, and Elder Feng Yu moved among the disciples with patient authority, correcting stances, guiding breathing, and sharpening focus. Their voices rose and fell like temple bells, steadying the restless energies of the younger cultivators.

From the main tent, its great red banner bearing the blazing emblem of flame, Shaurya stepped out, followed by Lin Shu. His hair caught the sunlight as he stretched his neck and arms with a long sigh, shoulders rolling to ease the stiffness of seclusion. Lin Shu, ever graceful, walked beside him, her calm expression touched by a subtle smile.

As they crossed the training ground, Lin Shu's steps slowed when her eyes caught Elder Liya. A playful glint sparkled in her gaze. She leaned closer, lowering her voice in a teasing whisper.

"So… did you both enjoy…?"

Elder Liya froze mid-instruction, her composure cracking as her cheeks flushed crimson. Embarrassed, she looked down quickly, lips pressed tight.

Lin Shu placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, her own smile widening. Elder Liya raised her brow, recovering with a sly spark in her eyes.

"We two enjoy… But what about you and Master? You two were in the room for three days."

Lin Shu's face instantly bloomed scarlet. She stepped back in a fluster, waving her hands.

"No… no, no! Don't misunderstand! We both were cultivating—with the help of the Nirvana Pill."

Elder Liya chuckled softly, her laughter like chimes in the breeze. "I know. Both of you are like children, blushing just by holding hands. I was only teasing."

Lin Shu pouted, cheeks warm, crossing her arms defensively. "We are not children. It's like we are—"

"—What are you talking about?"

Shaurya's voice cut in from behind, startling her. She spun around, eyes wide.

"Nothing! We are talking nothing. And don't scare me again!" she exclaimed, shaking her head rapidly.

Elder Liya laughed openly while Shaurya tilted his head, confusion knitting his brows. Before the moment stretched further, Elder Wan stepped forward, accompanied by a group of visitors.

The air shifted. Disciples straightened as the Howling Abyss Sect approached, their dark uniforms contrasting against the golden morning light. At the forefront was Zia Han, tall and composed, his presence calm yet sharp like a honed blade.

Shaurya's face broke into a bright smile. He stepped forward with unguarded warmth.

"Leader Han!" he greeted.

Zia Han returned the gesture with equal grace. Behind him, his sect members stood in neat formation, disciplined and alert. His tone was respectful, yet steady.

"Thanks for giving us this chance."

Shaurya laughed, extending his fist. "Come on, Leader Han. We are friends."

Zia Han hesitated for a fraction of a second, then raised his brow and lightly bumped fists with him.

"Oh, by the way," Shaurya asked, "when did you all arrive?"

"We arrived at night," Zia Han replied calmly. "Set up our camp near yours."

Shaurya nodded with a satisfied smile. "Okay then, come in. Let me treat you to some tea."

Zia Han gave a courteous bow. "Thank you for your invitation. But the secret realm is going to open—we must complete our preparations."

Shaurya blinked, caught off guard. "Wait what? Is it going to open today?"

Zia Han's expression shifted to confusion. "Huh? You don't know? It will open in some hours."

Shaurya froze, stunned. "Oh no. I haven't prepared!"

Before panic could settle, Elder Wan raised his hand calmly. "Master, you were in seclusion, so we thought to handle the preparations."

Shaurya's face lit up with laughter. "I knew I could rely on you guys."

The elders and disciples straightened, pride swelling in their chests.

Zia Han gave a final bow. "If nothing else, we'll leave first."

Shaurya nodded, bowing in return. "Safe preparation."

The Howling Abyss Sect departed, their figures vanishing into the mist-laden trees.

Excitement surged through Shaurya. He clenched his fist, eyes gleaming. "Okay! If everything is already prepared, then let's go!"

He raised his fist high toward the sky.

"Yes, Master!" the disciples shouted in unison, their voices shaking the ground with burning spirit.

At that moment, from one of the tents, Wang Tian and Luo Chen stumbled out, blinking under the sun. Their hair was messy, their expressions groggy.

Wang Tian tilted his head, confusion etched on his face. "Why are they looking so excited?"

Luo Chen shrugged lazily. "How should I know? I've been with you this whole time."

The two walked forward, heading straight for the Single Mingle Gang. Wang Tian smacked Xiao Rui lightly on the back.

"Hey, Rui. What's going on?"

Xiao Rui turned, eyes widening with mock surprise. "Oh, you two finally came out. We're about to leave."

Both of their jaws dropped. "What?!"

"What if we hadn't come out?" Wang Tian demanded.

Xiao Rui stretched, hands resting behind his head casually. "What else? We would've left you behind."

Their faces froze, stunned at his blunt reply. They clenched their fists, ready to bark at him, but before words could fly, Shaurya's voice rang out.

"Everyone, let's go!"

Xiao Rui grinned and darted off with his gang, laughing as he left the two fuming.

Wang Tian cracked his knuckles, teeth grinding. "We'll see him next time."

Luo Chen nodded darkly. "Next time."

They all gathered around Shaurya, forming a circle of anticipation. The sun burned high above the valley, its golden rays breaking through the drifting mist, casting long shadows across the ground. The disciples' faces gleamed with sweat, a mixture of discipline, excitement, and suppressed nervousness.

Shaurya stood tall at the center, his black robes fluttering faintly in the morning breeze. His eyes swept over his people with a sharp but satisfied gaze, the corner of his lips curling into a smile.

"Good," he said calmly, his voice carrying across the camp like a steady flame. "Some of you have really improved in such a short time period."

His gaze lingered deliberately on Wang Tian and Luo Chen, who stood with their backs straight, chests raised in pride. Their presence was solid, like two unshakable pillars holding the confidence of the sect itself. Behind them, Sheng Lu and Lu Fang exchanged a glance and a faint smile, quietly acknowledging the bond that had grown among their peers.

Shaurya's expression softened slightly before turning stern again. He took a step forward, the crunch of gravel beneath his boots breaking the silence. "Okay… do your best. To survive. Don't die."

For a moment, the weight of his words hung heavy in the air. Then, laughter broke out among the disciples, their youthful voices echoing across the camp, cutting through the grim tension of what awaited them.

Lee Bie raised his thumb high, his grin wide and brash. "Don't worry, Master. We are strong—at least we four are."

The air shifted. A sudden chill crawled down Lee Bie's spine, freezing his grin in place. Slowly, with dread, he turned his head. Behind him stood Wang Tian and Luo Chen, their shadows stretching long across the dirt, their eyes glinting with mischief. Both were cracking their knuckles, the sound sharp and deliberate, like bones snapping in the quiet.

A devilish grin spread across Wang Tian's face as he placed a heavy hand on Lee Bie's shoulder. "What do you mean only you four are strong?"

On the other side, Luo Chen mirrored him, his grip firm as his hand fell on Lee Bie's other shoulder. His voice was low, almost mocking. "You know this—you're not even in the top ten ranking of our sect."

Lee Bie's mouth went dry, sweat sliding down his temple.

Wang Tian leaned closer, his breath cold against Lee Bie's ear, his grin turning sharp. "And you and Xiao Rui—your tongues have gotten sharper than Luo Chen's. Seems like we'll have to talk with you."

The atmosphere shifted instantly. The playful energy was gone, replaced by a dangerous tension that rippled through the group like lightning.

Cheng Fang and Zong Bu exchanged glances, then stepped aside in unison, wanting no part in what was about to unfold. Xiao Rui and Lee Bie both trembled where they stood, their forced smiles twitching awkwardly, as if plastered onto their faces to mask their fear.

Shaurya, watching from the front, let out a booming laugh, the kind that rolled like thunder and shattered the intensity. "Calm down, guys. You can vent your anger on our enemies. I am sure we have quite a lot of them."

The disciples' eyes lit up instantly, their spirits reigniting. The fire of battle burned within them, their earlier unease replaced with fervor and excitement. Murmurs of eagerness spread, fists clenched, eyes blazing like stars in the night sky.

Shaurya turned back, his black hair flowing as the wind swept across the valley. He took a bold step forward, his silhouette cutting sharp against the mist. His voice thundered across the camp, filled with authority and unshakable confidence.

"Let's go, my dear sect. Show everyone who is the real boss."

The disciples roared in unison, the ground trembling beneath their united cry.

The sect began their march. Shaurya led from the front, his robe flowing like fire in the wind. Behind him strode the elders, their dignified presence towering. And behind them, the chosen hundred disciples marched in disciplined formation, their spirits blazing, their steps echoing like a war drum across the valley.

The path wound deeper into the heart of the valley, where mist thickened and the trees grew ancient and twisted. The air grew colder, heavy with a strange, mystical pressure. Shadows shifted within the fog, whispers of the ancient secret realm that slumbered ahead.

Shaurya's excitement burned brighter. With a dramatic flair, he pulled out his black sunglasses, slid them onto his face, and tucked his hands into his pockets. His smirk widened as if he were walking into destiny itself.

Before them, the thick mist coiled like a living wall, the veil that separated the world of mortals from the hidden domain beyond. The disciples' eyes shone with eagerness, yet none carried fear.

Because they knew the truth.

They were not in danger.

They were the danger.

Far away, across the sprawling wilderness, other sects stirred as well.

The Jade Phoenix Sect, marched in perfect elegance. Their leader, Liu Xiang eyes cold and unwavering, raised a hand. "The realm awakens. Stay sharp." Their disciples nodded, each step measured, their auras sharp as blades.

Not far behind, the Blood Saber Sect advanced like a wall of steel, their boots striking the earth in unison. The clang of their armored robes echoed like war drums.

The Moonlight Pavilion traveled through shadowed ridges, their lunar banners fluttering against the storm winds. Whispers passed between them, eyes glinting with ambition.

Above all, the air itself trembled.

The mist at the valley's heart began to churn violently, flashing with eerie hues—azure, violet, and crimson. Thunder rolled from within though no storm covered the sky. A towering ripple of energy spread outward, distorting the air as though reality itself bent under its weight.

The ancient seal of the secret realm pulsed, lines of glowing script weaving across the mist, each one flickering like the heartbeat of something vast and alive.

All sects—Sanatan Flame, Jade Phoenix, Howling Abyss, Blood Saber, Moonlight Pavilion, and countless others—felt the pull in their very souls.

The secret realm… was opening.

And none knew who would step out alive once it closed again.

To be continued…

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