The Thirty-Third Illustration: Bestowing Blessings

After Sang Sang eliminated all enemy troops and left the testing space, she discovered she was the only one left on the martial stage. All the spectators’ gazes were focused on her, making her feel somewhat uneasy. She lowered her head to check her results—astonished to see she had ranked second—and raised her brows in surprise. After politely bidding farewell to the four directions, she proceeded to her luxurious seat and sat down.

Senna had always told her how many prodigies there were among the contenders, implying her talent was hardly remarkable, which made her fear she’d stumble and be eliminated in the first round. She hadn’t expected to secure second place.

Sadly, the Celestial Emperor was able to break records; she couldn’t even claim first place at the scene, let alone set a new record. Perhaps if she were granted a few more years, it might be possible.

After all, Sang Sang still harbored pride in her heart, especially when the Celestial Emperor exerted pressure on her.

“Congratulations, Redleaf Sister, on passing the physical technique test.”

A delicate voice entered her ears, accompanied by a slender green branch that breached the spatial barrier, coming to rest beside Sang Sang. Two budding leaves at its tip swayed gently, evoking the image of tender shoots and prompting a smile.

Sang Sang turned to the little tree sprite next to her and said, “Chiba, congratulations on achieving tenth place.”

The little tree sprite pouted, “I was a seeded candidate, so reaching the top ten is expected. Too bad you were only two points shy of surpassing White Artemisia.”

White Artemisia glanced over, her eyes shining like rare icy jade, so clear and pure that Sang Sang felt a quiet calm.

Chiba’s vine atop her head stood upright, brandishing at White Artemisia, “What are you staring at? I wasn’t wrong.”

White Artemisia ignored Chiba, continuing to gaze steadily at Sang Sang, nodding slightly. “I look forward to the spiritual technique test on the first of Fire Moon. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Sang Sang nodded in return, “I look forward to it as well.”

Spiritual techniques were soul magic—the second round of the selection.

The number of finalists was undecided. Based on previous years, it was usually three to four times the number of eventual selections. So, the minimum was thirty-nine and the maximum fifty-two. This time, anyone averaging less than six points across the fifty-odd basic physical items was eliminated. Yet, according to the data, with two hundred candidates for the Saint Son and three selected, the chance for finalists was nine to twelve, around five percent—a fairly high probability. For the Saint Maiden, with eight hundred candidates and thirty to forty selected, the odds were not low either.

The little tree sprite grumbled, “Redleaf Sister, why bother with her? She’s bullying you. She was born with the law of life cradled in her arms—many adult elders are no match for her.”

“One can’t skip the spiritual technique test just because someone else is strong,” Sang Sang gently touched the little leaf bud that curled around her, then produced a green bell the size of a pigeon egg. Inside the bell was a healing picture combining light, wood, and earth energies. If one looked closely, the little tree inside seemed to resemble Chiba.

Chiba exclaimed joyfully, “Ah, that’s me, that’s me! Is Redleaf Sister giving this to me? I want to wear it on my head!”

Everyone had already been surreptitiously listening, but at Chiba’s loud voice, the other candidates couldn’t help but look over. When they saw the bell in Sang Sang’s hand, they were startled, especially Bronwyn, whose heart skipped a beat.

That green hue was the safe light left on the faith medium after mainframe inspection.

Five months ago, Sang Redleaf’s faith creations were riddled with flaws; now, they had reached the mainframe’s qualifying standard? How did she have time to study other things besides physical techniques?

“It’s for you. It’s simply a healing piece, without a faith mark,” Sang Sang said earnestly. “I want to exchange the last picture back. That was an unqualified work, and it contains my mental power—I need to reclaim it.”

The little tree sprite didn’t answer immediately. He stared at Sang Sang, and the eyes on his tender face were not as innocent as his appearance.

Sang Sang held her pose. “Apologies. When Green Shoot comes, I’ll introduce you.”

“Alright!” The little tree sprite laughed, his vines trembling as he handed Sang Sang a healing art card, then carefully wrapped the green bell around his head. “I really like it. I’ve never shown your work to anyone else. Next time, don’t give important things away.”

“Thank you.” Sang Sang looked at the picture in her hand. No matter how well others tried to disguise her mental power, there would always be flaws; this was indeed her work. Still, she wasn’t sure if there were any hidden marks inside, so she’d keep it separately and have her teacher review and destroy it later.

Countless observers mentally cursed Chiba for being foolish. Sang Redleaf was clearly a strong competitor, yet he returned a weakness already in his possession—truly a wooden-headed fool.

The blessing ceremony had begun on the martial stage, starting with the Secondary Saint Son.

Sang Sang looked toward Senna’s group, exchanged a distant glance with Little Gold, then focused on the stage, carefully watching the ceremony—something she would need in the future.

The blessing ceremony was less a ritual than a performance by a host of interstellar celebrities, with the martial arena serving as a stage for the Saint Sons and Saint Maidens to showcase their charisma.

The Secondary Saint Son performed a song without lyrics. His voice seemed to traverse the universe, bearing an indescribable vastness and distance. As his song resounded, the entire Star Arena fell silent; darkness enveloped the plaza, rendering people’s eyes, ears, mouths, and noses mere ornaments. Even their consciousness began to freeze, with only a humming voice echoing in their hearts.

Suddenly, the low chant soared, a clear shout awakening everything. The universe stirred; a beam of light erupted from the center of the martial stage, dispelling the darkness. Holy light blazed, and the universe’s first star was born. At the heart of the star stood a tall young man, his scepter raised high, countless stars swirling around him. In that moment, he was the universe’s core.

The Secondary Saint Son gave all spectators a feast for the senses and, upon departing, bestowed a blessing of vitality—healing those who were ill and enhancing cultivation speed for those who were healthy.

The dazzling opening left subsequent performances somewhat overshadowed, but for the candidates, each predecessor was someone currently beyond their reach.

Some sang, purifying minds and elevating comprehension; others danced, enchanting all, ultimately awakening and strengthening resolve. Someone planted a tree whose fruit was enough for everyone present to eat—spiritual fruit that refined internal energy. Someone performed a sword dance, its fierce aura causing eyes to shut; anyone who kept their eyes open gained a strand of sword intent in their heart, which might one day lead them to comprehend their own path to advanced mastery. Someone played a tune—the sound of battle, stirring blood and planting a seed of courage, destined to sprout in the face of conflict.

The Hundred Flowers Saint Maiden also danced, gliding low through the air. Each time her toes touched the ground, flowers and grass bloomed beneath her. Soon, the entire martial stage was carpeted in blossoms, with more than a thousand varieties. A breeze stirred, sending clouds of pollen drifting gently toward the audience, where, before each spectator, the pollen condensed into a double-petaled 'Void Silver Flower', passing through the spatial barrier and settling in their hands.