Chapter 107: Public Enemy

After the meeting concluded, the disciples watched as Gu Xiaopang and Bai Ling'er departed with ease, all of them sinking into deep contemplation.

How long had it been?

There were still several months left before Gu's one-year training period ended, yet in such a short time, he had already elevated his cultivation to the False Core stage. Furthermore, his combat prowess was so immense that he had defeated a Senior Brother Zhao, who was on the verge of the late Golden Core stage, with nothing more than a symbolic wave of his hand.

Just how strong was he? How had he cultivated and advanced so rapidly? Given the current gap between them, what would it be like in the future? A year, two years, three years, or even longer from now? They would likely only be able to see his back, if they were even qualified to do so at all.

The quiet night passed in the blink of an eye. The following day, bathed in the purple mist of the east, everyone set off in high spirits, moving in groups toward the spirit-artifact city located a thousand kilometers away. Countless cultivators who had never before witnessed such a powerful artifact—whether they belonged to great clans, sects, or were merely wandering rogue cultivators—looked around with boundless curiosity, not even sparing the smallest corners from their scrutiny. For many, participating in or observing this competition meant they would have something to boast about in the future: "Back in the day, I actually touched and stood upon a true spirit-artifact..."

The disciples of the Misty Sect were no exception. The Tianji Platform of the Tianji Pavilion was also a spirit-artifact, but it could only be used by cultivators of that sect. Thus, while the Tianji Pavilion’s strength was not in the top tier, no one dared to covet their platform. Bai Ling'er, who resided on the Tianji Platform year-round, naturally remained unimpressed by this city-sized artifact. Beside her, Gu Xiaopang appeared somewhat distracted throughout the journey; none of the others realized he was busy continuously tempering the spiritual energy above his soul sea, which had expanded significantly. The vortex of spiritual energy was even broader and more potent than it had been days prior.

"Brother Nangong, let us two old fellows sit together."

"Oh? Is that you, Brother Anran? I would be most pleased."

"Greetings, Senior Nangong."

"Good, good."

"This is Anran, Sect Master of the Tiger-Crouching Sect, our friendly ally. You lot, hurry and pay your respects."

"Greetings, Senior Anran."

"I must say, Brother Nangong, the disciples from your Misty Sect this time are truly fine seedlings. They are far superior to the unruly lot in our own sect."

As the Misty Sect members settled down on the outer edge of the central arena, they were deep in chatter when an elderly, slightly hunched man with a beaming face approached with his elders and disciples. After exchanging greetings with Sect Master Nangong, he had his group sit right beside them. Both sects exchanged polite nods and smiles.

"Brother Gu!"

"Ah? Brother Haisong, you are here too! Come, sit, let us sit together."

Li Haisong of the Tiger-Crouching Sect was also a participant. Upon arriving and seeing Gu Xiaopang looking distracted on the edge of the neighboring row, he laughed heartily and walked over. The two began whispering to each other, with Bai Ling'er on the right, Gu Xiaopang in the center, and Li Haisong on the far left. Similar scenes of reunions played out among other acquaintances from different sects.

"Brother Nangong, look, that old scoundrel Wen Baiyi has arrived as well."

"Hmph!"

Just as Misty Sect Master Nangong Kang turned his head to the right, he saw Wen Baiyi, the handsome, silver-haired Sect Master of the Azure Cloud Sect, leading his own imposing procession. Wen Baiyi wore a stiff face, his eyes wide with fury, and he let out a cold huff toward Nangong. As he passed the Tiger-Crouching Sect's group, he softened his expression slightly to give a curt nod to Sect Master Anran, before settling his group directly to the left of the Tiger-Crouching Sect. Nangong Kang glared at Wen Baiyi with wide, burning eyes, leaving Anran to offer a helpless smile.

Over a hundred years ago, Nangong Kang and Wen Baiyi were close friends, but both fell in love with a woman named Si Xue. Ultimately, she was won over by Nangong Kang, whose cultivation was slightly higher. Since then, although he had technically moved on, the unconvinced Wen Baiyi had practiced with desperate intensity, challenging Nangong Kang countless times, usually losing more than he won. They had been at odds ever since. This rivalry extended to their disciples as well.

"Listen well, disciples of the Azure Cloud Sect!"

"If you encounter anyone from the Misty Sect on the arena, show no mercy. Beat them soundly, as long as you don't kill or cripple them!"

"Yes!"

"Hmph!"

"Disciples of the Misty Sect, listen up!"

"When you meet those from the Azure Cloud Sect, don't be polite. Beat them whenever you see them! And don't forget to leave them a medicinal pill afterward—it will show that we are the more magnanimous sect!"

"Hmph!"

After issuing their impromptu mobilization orders, Nangong Kang and Wen Baiyi both huffed and turned away from each other. Seeing their leaders acting so petty, the disciples of both sects could only offer each other helpless glances. The disciples of the Tiger-Crouching Sect, caught in the middle, scratched their heads in embarrassment before straightening their posture.

In less than a quarter of an hour, the massive spirit-artifact city, spanning over ten thousand miles, was packed with people everywhere except for the three-thousand-meter combat arena in the center. Even the eighty-odd members of the newly founded Heavenly Mansion were scattered throughout the viewing stands. Although they regretted not being able to compete, Deputy Mansion Master Sun Tian had set a new, exciting goal: once the rankings were decided, the Heavenly Mansion members would challenge those on the rankings list to replace them, continuously rising in rank to build the mansion’s reputation.

The circle immediately surrounding the arena was home to nearly a hundred sects, royal courts, and noble families. Excluding the masters and elders, there were over two thousand competing disciples—all the absolute best from the Southern Region of the Fengshen Continent. Each was under twenty years of age, yet none had a cultivation lower than the late Foundation Establishment stage. This competition would be their true stage for fame. Those who ranked highest would not only be known throughout the Southern Region but would have their names spread across the entire continent, including the Central Region. Therefore, every participant, and their respective sects, viewed this competition with the utmost gravity. It was not just about fame, but about the subsequent interests and, most importantly, the contest for the ancient cultivation technique inscribed on the Earth Monument.

Compared to these young disciples, the veteran powerhouses of previous eras seemed born at the wrong time. In their day, to make a name for oneself across even a single region, one had to accumulate reputation through decades or centuries of local efforts. Take, for instance, Palace Master Ba of the Supreme Palace in the Central Region, who spent over three hundred years wandering the world before gaining his current status—a name known to all, feared by all, and respected by all. Thus, the glorious age of the younger generation had truly arrived.

"Xiaopang, have you noticed? So many hostile eyes are fixed on you."

"Sister Ling'er, let's just ignore them."

"Right, with Brother Gu's strength, there is no need to care about them."

"Good."

Among the younger disciples, Gu Xiaopang was likely the first to gain fame in the Southern Region, having fought three hundred opponents alone at the Zhaoging Ceremony and leading the weakest Nanyan County to victory. Since the observers included most of the sects and families of the Southern Region, his combat prowess had naturally spread far and wide. Although many dismissed the rumors as exaggerations or blamed the weakness of the Twelve Zijin Counties, it did not stop his fame from growing. This led every arrogant young disciple to want to use Gu Xiaopang as a stepping stone. Gu was effectively an innocent target of public enmity.

Yet, Gu Xiaopang stood like a crane among chickens, chatting idly with his friend Li Haisong, never once placing those hostile gazes in his eyes, let alone his heart. Seeing their stares ignored, many disciples clenched their fists, their eyes sparking with hidden fire.

This scene was naturally noticed by the top-level figures, who either mocked, smiled, or waited to watch the ensuing chaos. Sect Master Nangong Kang, though experienced, felt a bit of tension seeing the countless representatives from various sects and royal courts staring toward them. The other peak masters and disciples of the Misty Sect felt the same, knowing full well this was all due to the thick-skinned Gu Xiaopang. They felt both proud and slightly anxious.

Directly opposite the Misty Sect, across the three-thousand-meter arena, the small contingent of the Zijin Royal Court, led by a royal envoy, saw the Third Prince and his peers nod toward the Misty Sect—or rather, toward their own son-in-law, Gu Xiaopang.

The disciples of the arrogant Xiuluo Mansion, even without their master disciple Xiu Zhenghu—who could fight a late-stage Golden Core expert to a standstill—to anchor them, still acted as if they were superior, glancing down at the arena with the vanity of peacocks. As for the leadership of the Xiuluo Mansion, they chatted amiably with other high-ranking figures, though this was not out of kindness; they simply enjoyed the feeling of being the center of attention, their composure and cultivation of temperament being exceptional.