Beauty and Might: Heavenly Flames

The Head Referee studied him closely—approval and curiosity mingling in his eyes. ”You have accomplished something no disciple has achieved since the creation of the Pagoda Trials,” he said. ”Reaching the hidden level is not merely rare—it is unprecedented.”

With a gesture, a luminous panel formed above the platform.

[Li Yan Tian — 5,000 Points | First Conqueror of the Hidden Level]

A wave of astonishment rolled through the arena.

”This… this can’t be real.”

”He actually did it.”

The referee waited until the noise dulled before continuing. ”Your achievement will be recorded in the sect archives. From this day onward, your name will stand as the first to reach the hidden level of the White Rank Pagoda.”

He paused, then added, ”Tell us, Li Yan Tian. What did you encounter within the hidden level?”

Li Yan inclined his head slightly. ”The hidden level is not merely an extension of the pagoda,” he said evenly. ”It is a separate realm. As the first to reach it, I was offered five choices—five rewards—to choose one.”

A ripple of murmurs spread instantly.

The crowd stirred again.

Before the Head Referee could speak further, a purple-robed disciple called out, unable to restrain himself. ”Then what did you choose?”

Li Yan turned toward the voice. His expression was calm, his smile faint.

”I won’t answer that,” he said. ”Revealing it now would rob future challengers of both mystery and motivation. Some things are better earned firsthand.”

The reaction was immediate—and divided.

”He’s dodging it,” someone muttered, irritation creeping into his voice.

Others shook their heads. ”No. He’s right. If the reward is known, people will chase shortcuts instead of pushing their limits.”

Speculation surged anew.

Li Yan raised a hand—not commanding, merely deliberate. The gesture alone drew attention back to him.

”I will say this,” he said. ”The reward within the White Rank Pagoda is perfectly suited yet highly valuable for someone at my level as a White-ranked disciple.”

”That means the rewards awaiting higher ranks… will be even greater.”

The implication settled heavily over the crowd.

The Head Referee laughed softly, genuine approval clear in his tone. ”Well said. A cultivator must know not only how to advance, but when to remain silent.”

Around them, the arena buzzed with renewed energy. Some disciples felt their resolve harden, ambition ignited by the possibilities now laid bare. Others turned away, frustration and envy weighing on their expressions.

The murmurs in the stadium did not fade.

They multiplied.

Li Yan stood at the center of the arena, posture relaxed, gaze steady. His violet eyes moved calmly across the crowd as whispers overlapped and sharpened into speculation.

Among the black-robed disciples seated near the upper tiers, two female disciples leaned closer, voices low.

”I just remembered,” one whispered, eyes fixed on Li Yan. ”Wasn’t he the one standing beside the Goddess during her last visit?”

The other narrowed her gaze. ”You’re right. That’s why he looked familiar.”

The realization spread.

Like fire through dry grass.

”He must have something special on him.”

”There’s no way someone reaches the hidden level without backing.”

”Maybe the Goddess gave him secret techniques.”

”Or a higher-tier artifact.”

Not all voices carried awe.

”He’s just lucky,” someone muttered bitterly.

”Or he cheated,” another sneered. ”No white-rank disciple should reach a hidden level like that.”

Others pushed back immediately.

”Cheating? In the Pagoda Trial?”

”You think the sect arrays wouldn’t detect it?”

”And did you forget how many disciples fail before even reaching Level Six?”

The noise swelled.

Li Yan did not respond.

His expression did not change. A faint, almost amused curve touched his lips—not arrogance, not disdain, simply detachment.

He had seen this before.

In his previous life, in another arena, where success bred rumors faster than it bred rivals.

This was no different.

At the elders’ platform, Ji Hong’s expression darkened.

He listened in silence for several breaths, then placed his cup down.

The porcelain cracked.

Qi erupted outward.

In the next instant, he vanished from his seat and reappeared mid-air above the arena floor. His presence descended like a blade unsheathed halfway.

The stadium fell silent.

Ji Hong’s gaze swept across the disciples, sharp and unforgiving. His voice carried effortlessly, cold and absolute.

”What are you all discussing?”

No one answered.

”Have you forgotten where you stand?” he continued. ”This sect is not a marketplace of rumors. We are bound as one family. Treating one family member with suspicion and slander—that violates the first rule of this sect.”

Several disciples lowered their heads. Others stiffened, faces pale.

Ji Hong’s tone hardened. ”And what makes any of you believe you understand who Li Yan Tian truly is?”

He began to speak again—

—but Li Yan raised a hand.

The gesture was small. Controlled.

”Elder Ji,” Li Yan said calmly. ”There’s no need.”

The way Li Yan addressed Ji Hong—Sect Leader—a ripple of shock passed through the arena.

He continued evenly, ”Doubt is natural. Words like these don’t affect me.”

For a heartbeat, no one breathed.

Ji Hong turned toward him, brows drawn together—not anger, but resolve. ”No,” he said. ”It is my responsibility. And I should have addressed this sooner.”

He faced the crowd again.

”Listen carefully,” Ji Hong said, his voice measured but unyielding. ”Li Yan Tian is not an ordinary disciple.”

The silence deepened.

”The Goddess herself informed me—and the elders present—that Li Yan Tian is under her protection.”

The words struck like thunder.

Gasps rippled outward, but one look from Ji Hong crushed the sound before it could rise.

”He chose to remain within our sect of his own will,” Ji Hong continued. ”Not to seek shelter. Not to gain favors. But to temper himself.”

His gaze sharpened. ”Understand this clearly: Li Yan Tian is a guest of this sect. His status stands above every disciple. The Goddess has entrusted him with tasks of his own.”

Shock froze the audience.

Some white-rank disciples—those who had crossed paths with Li Yan in Hunting Ground—felt sudden clarity settle over them. His speed. His composure. His refusal to compete for scraps.

It made sense now.

Ji Hong did not stop.

”There is one thing you must remember,” he said, his tone lowering. ”Li Yan Tian entered this sect empty-handed.”

His words cut sharply.

”He rejected artifacts from the treasury. Refused techniques from the Techniques Hall. Declined every form of preferential treatment.”

The crowd listened, unmoving.

”He chose to live as a normal disciple. He paid for knowledge in the Shadows Knowledge Pavilion. He hunted beasts to earn Shadow Points. He earned his meals with his own hands.”

Ji Hong’s gaze swept the arena once more.

”Everything he achieved,” he said, voice steady, ”he earned.”

The silence that followed was no longer hostile.

It was heavy.

And respectful.

Li Yan stood quietly beneath the weight of it—unmoved, unflinching.

The stage had shifted.

And so had the way the sect would look at him from this moment forward.

Ji Hong’s gaze swept the stadium, cold and incisive.

”Ask yourselves,” he said evenly, ”if you were in his position, would you have done the same? Would you have refused such privileges?”

No one answered.

Li Yan, who had remained silent throughout, lowered his head slightly. A faint breath escaped him—not regret—only acceptance. He had never wanted his identity exposed. Now, it was beyond his control.

Several disciples who had spoken ill of him earlier stood rigid, faces pale. Others looked at him anew, their expressions no longer skeptical, but measured—respect replacing suspicion.

Ji Hong’s tone softened, though the authority remained absolute. ”Let this serve as a lesson. Stop chasing rumors. Stop measuring others through envy. If you want strength, earn it. If you want recognition, build it.”

He paused briefly, then concluded, ”Now. We resume the competition.”

With that, his figure vanished, reappearing upon the elders’ platform.

The stadium remained silent for several breaths before the Head Referee stepped forward.

Li Yan stood where he was, expression unreadable. The attention no longer bothered him. It was simply another variable—another obstacle to be managed.

The Head Referee’s voice rang out across the arena. ”We now proceed to the next phase: one-on-one combat—Elimination Round.”

He gestured toward the four towering pagodas. ”The top sixty-four competitors, as displayed, will move to their designated zones. All others are dismissed.”

A ripple of subdued disappointment passed through the crowd as eliminated disciples withdrew. The Head Referee raised a jade talisman and infused it with Qi.

Four beams of light struck the pagodas.

With a low hum, the massive structures sank into the ground, leaving behind an open battlefield. Four distinct zones formed, separated by translucent energy barriers—White, Yellow, Azure, and Brown.

The qualified disciples took their positions.

Li Yan stood among the White Rank group.

Around him, the atmosphere was strained. Several disciples shifted uneasily, stealing glances at him before quickly looking away. Though only a few steps apart, an invisible distance separated them—born of awe, uncertainty, and fear of crossing an unseen boundary.

Three figures remained conspicuously silent, partially hidden behind others.

The same three.

Li Yan sensed them immediately.

Even Mu Fan—and the other Stage-Peak disciples—avoided speaking.

Li Yan exhaled quietly.

Then he stepped forward.

His expression softened, not submissive, not superior—simply calm.

”Everyone,” he said, his voice steady and unforced, ”forget about my status.”

The murmurs stilled.

”While I’m here, I’m no different from you. I walk the same path. If you keep treating me like something distant, I’ll feel out of place.”

A faint curve touched his lips. ”And if that happens, I might leave sooner than planned.”

Silence followed.

Awkward. Uncertain.

Then a voice broke it.

”Senior Brother Li is right!” A stout youth stepped forward, round-faced, eyes bright with sincerity. ”He helped Lin Feng and me in the Hunting Ground—when no one else would.”

Li Yan’s gaze flicked toward him.

Bai Shen.

Another figure followed—taller, leaner, eyes composed.

”That’s true,” Lin Feng said, bowing slightly. ”He saved us from a beast pack. We owe him our lives.”

A ripple passed through the White Rank group.

Li Yan chuckled softly. ”It wasn’t anything special,” he said. ”I was already hunting in a deeper zone. I just happened to meet you guys.”

The tension eased—not completely, but enough.

The invisible wall thinned.

And for the first time since the revelation, the White Rank disciples began to look at Li Yan not as a distant anomaly—

—but as someone standing among them.

Another disciple stepped forward. He hesitated briefly, then spoke, curiosity outweighing restraint. ”Li Yan—ah, Senior Brother Li,” he corrected himself quickly. ”What kind of task did the Goddess assign you?”

Li Yan glanced across the group, then nodded once. ”First,” he said calmly, ”You don’t need to call me Senior Brother. Li Yan Tian is enough.”

He paused, then continued, ”As for the task—one thousand Tier-1 beast cores. When that’s complete, I’ll receive the next assignment.”

A collective intake of breath rippled through the group.

”A thousand…?”

”That’s absurd…”

”How could anyone finish something like that?”

Yet beneath the disbelief was something else—respect. The task was monstrous, but Li Yan spoke of it plainly, without pride or complaint. The distance between him and the others felt less alien now, less unreachable.

Mu Fan stepped forward, rubbing the back of his neck. ”So that’s why you keep hunting… even at night?”

Li Yan met his eyes and nodded. ”That’s right.”

Before more questions could follow, a powerful voice cut through the gathering.

”Participants!”

The Head Referee’s voice echoed across the arena, sharp and authoritative.

”The outermost twenty-four platforms will host the elimination rounds for all four ranks. The eight inner platforms are reserved for the semi-finals. The central stage will be used for each rank’s final match.”

He gestured toward the bracelets. ”Your match numbers, platforms, and opponents have already been assigned. Proceed immediately to your designated locations. An elder will oversee each battle.”

The atmosphere shifted.

Anxiety hardened into resolve.

Li Yan lowered his gaze to the bracelet on his wrist. Characters surfaced across the dark screen.

[Round: 1

Match #: 8

Arena #: 32

Opponent #: 61 — Feng Jiao

Status: Waiting]

He nodded and moved.