Chapter 70: Three Stages

The one submitting the list was an elder from a minor family. Though an ordinary man without any cultivation, he had been known for decades for his uprightness and fairness, earning considerable respect. Thus, he was always entrusted with compiling and submitting the selection roster for Shun’an City’s tournament, a task he had never once failed, and the powerful figures of the Celestial Pavilion remembered him well.

“Thank you for your hard work, sir.”

The leader from the Celestial Pavilion stepped forward personally to accept the list from the elder’s hands. He even presented him with a medicinal pill, smiling as he said, “Sir, I hope we may continue to see you for many years to come.”

The old man hurriedly bowed low. “Thank you for your esteem, my lord, yet I know my days are numbered, and I fear I may disappoint you. I ought not to accept such generosity, but I, too, am a man with selfish desires.”

“Permit me to accept it boldly, as a treasure for my family.”

The Pavilion leader laughed. “Sir, this is not meant to be an heirloom. Come, take it now—it is a Vitality Pill, prepared especially for you.”

“We know you have never practiced martial arts, nor will you ever. We would never compel you to do so. Therefore, we present you this Vitality Pill.”

“We hope you will live long and continue to set an example for the people. This is what the Celestial Pavilion most wishes to see.”

At these words, the elder trembled and dropped to his knees—but he was quickly helped up by the leader, who smiled, “Sir, you mustn’t do this. We martial artists dare not receive such a bow!”

“You are a model for all ordinary people—even our Pavilion Master has heard of you! Come, take the pill.”

Deeply grateful, the old man swallowed the pill at once.

He knew his time was short, but still hoped for a few more years. The older one grows, the more one fears death’s approach. After all, the world’s beauty vanishes forever when one closes one’s eyes.

As the pill dissolved, it transformed into boundless vitality, filling the elder with energy, making him seem fifty or sixty years younger in an instant. In just a few breaths, his white hair and beard turned black, and every wrinkle vanished from his face. He looked as if he were a man of twenty or thirty.

“Thank you, my lord!” The old man attempted to kneel in gratitude, but again the leader supported him.

“I will do my utmost in my duties and never let you down!” he declared, returning to his family as the leader indicated.

At that moment, nearly everyone from the assembled families gazed at him with envy—but it was envy alone, without a trace of jealousy. This was his due; it was an honor his family deserved.

At the same time, everyone’s regard for the Celestial Pavilion grew, as did their longing to enter it.

After glancing at the list, the leader’s eyes drifted to Mu Tianhen, a hint of puzzlement in his gaze.

Mu Tianhen smiled faintly, his face unreadable.

Seeing this, the leader understood and made no further move, returning to his seat before raising his voice:

“Though you all know the rules, I will announce them once more. The Celestial Pavilion’s selection tournament, held every five years, consists of three stages.”

“The first stage is the trial of mind and spirit. I have personally designed the test, and all who registered may attempt it simultaneously. The test lasts one day.”

“Those who pass this stage proceed to the second. Those who fail are eliminated on the spot. The Celestial Pavilion seeks only the elite—if one cannot pass the trial of the heart, then no matter how strong, one is but useless!”

“The second stage will test individual survival skills. All who enter will be sent to a location we have chosen for a challenging ordeal.”

“This stage evaluates comprehensive survival abilities, so it will last longer—one full month. The danger is great; only those who survive move to the third stage.”

“Those who do not survive need not be eliminated—they will simply be dead, their very bones perhaps lost. The details will be revealed in due time.”

“After the second stage, few will remain. The third stage is direct combat, where rankings will be determined.”

“Those who, in the end, achieve the Sky-Gazing Realm and rank among the top five will become official disciples of the Celestial Pavilion. The rest will be registered disciples only.”

“I must emphasize: during the duels, intentional harm is forbidden; it is best to stop at the point of victory. Yet accidents will happen—fists and feet know no mercy.”

“However, when I call for a halt, the duel must end immediately. Anyone who disobeys will be executed on the spot. Is that clear?”

“Clear!” the crowd answered in unison, their voices echoing to the clouds.

The leader swept his gaze over the assembly and continued, “All those who have registered, gather in the center. The Celestial Pavilion’s selection tournament now officially begins!”

At his command, many young warriors surged forward from the crowd—every one of them between twelve and thirty years old, the unwritten age range for the Celestial Pavilion.

After all, those too young could not possibly reach the Blood-Ignition Realm, the basic requirement. Those too old, though their cultivation might suffice, had little potential for growth.

The Celestial Pavilion would never choose mediocrities who only reached the Blood-Ignition Realm in their thirties or later.

Thus, the older ones knew better than to apply.

Yet, with several million inhabitants and thousands of families in Shun’an City, even with strict requirements, there were still many eligible youths.

Many small families had traveled from afar, hoping their children might survive to the third stage and become registered disciples of the Celestial Pavilion.

To become even a registered disciple was enough to bring glory to one’s ancestors and endless honor to one’s family.

Sadly, in past years, though many registered, most were eliminated in the first round—the trial of the spirit. In the second stage, nearly all perished, with fewer than ten surviving.

Even then, in the final combat, tempers would flare, and some would fight to the death, sometimes both falling together. Until now, only Mu Tianyou had succeeded.

In other words, the Mu family had broken the record for Shun’an City.

But this year’s contenders were formidable—especially the four young prodigies and the meteoric Mu Tianxue, each of them terrifyingly talented. It was believed they all stood a chance to become official disciples.

Of course, only time would tell.

As the 1,300 young martial artists gathered in the center, each spaced a certain distance from the others, the Celestial Pavilion leader began to arrange the day’s challenge—the first stage of the tournament.

With a single wave of his hand, a surge of energy swept toward the candidates, splitting in midair into 1,300 threads.

With each flash of pale light, a shimmering portal appeared before each candidate, slowly drawing closer.