Lin Mu stood amid the clamoring crowd, a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips.
His gaze pierced through the protective barrier at the arena's edge, locking firmly onto that upright figure in white robes floating gracefully upward.
This was the first time since the tournament began that Lin Mu had observed his nominal "patron" from a completely detached, bystander's perspective.
Memories flashed through his mind like a revolving lantern.
Lin Mu recalled their first encounter at the Azure Pouch Grass auction. Back then, Lin Feng had worn the mask of a wastrel young master, seemingly throwing away money as a fool, when in reality he had cleverly used Lin Mu as a "white glove" to avoid drawing attention from the various clan factions.
Then came his composure during the Blood Forest crisis. Facing the White Bone Stockade elites' siege, he had performed the "empty fort strategy" to perfection, tearing open a path to survival from an impossible situation.
But what had deepened Lin Mu's understanding of Lin Feng most profoundly was the death trap at Copper Stone Valley.
To force out the underground assassin's trump cards, Lin Feng had unhesitatingly treated his companion Lin Mu as expendable bait. Even at the final killing moment, he had sacrificed his loyal Rank 2 servant Ah Zhong just to ensure his Rank 3 killing move would land a fatal blow.
Cold, patient, profit above all.
"I don't actually resent him for leaving me to die."
Lin Mu watched the refined young man on stage and made an extremely objective assessment. "Because if I were in his position, I would have unhesitatingly used others as cannon fodder too. He's not a good person, but he's absolutely a qualified superior—a truly ruthless character."
Watching the white-robed youth on stage who seemed to have everything under control, admired by thousands, Lin Mu's thoughts drifted involuntarily.
A name suddenly surfaced in his mind—from the original Reverend Insanity novel, another figure in white who had left a deep impression: Gu Yue Qing Shu.
How similar their talents were.
Both were equally brilliant, both possessed absolute prestige and leadership among their generation. Where they stood, they became the benchmark their peers looked up to.
Yet how ironic their circumstances were.
Gu Yue Qing Shu, a backgroundless orphan with world-shaking talent, had been used by clan leadership as a tool to balance factions and placate the common members. His entire life was spent serving the clan. To protect its future, he had even resorted to forbidden techniques that burned his lifespan, ultimately dying in battle, becoming nothing more than a cold wooden statue.
Qing Shu's tragedy was the inescapable shackle of talented commoners under the system.
And Lin Feng before him?
He was the system's greatest beneficiary, the absolute darling at the top. He didn't need to burn himself to illuminate others like Qing Shu; he only needed to stand at power's pinnacle, elegantly and ruthlessly exploiting people like Qing Shu.
"Same talent, completely different fates."
A flash of inexplicable mockery passed through Lin Mu's eyes. "This Gu world really is absurd."
"Begin!"
The referee's shout pulled Lin Mu's wandering thoughts back to the arena.
The inner disciple Lin Tao, knowing he was outmatched, still refused to surrender without a fight. With a roar, Primeval Essence surged in his aperture as he raised a thick-backed cleaver and charged like a tiger descending the mountain.
Lin Mu narrowed his eyes slightly. He wasn't worried about Lin Feng losing—he simply wanted to see how much this top seed had grown after absorbing the insights from that great battle and the clan's concentrated resources.
The answer came quickly.
Lin Feng didn't need to crush his opponent with mad-dog ferocity like Lin Yan, nor did he need to rely on expensive Gu to tank hits like Lin Ze. What he displayed was a combat prowess that inspired utter helplessness and despair.
It was the composure born from polishing fundamentals to perfection.
Facing Lin Tao's blade flashing like a storm, Lin Feng's footwork was as steady as if he were strolling through his own courtyard. His Iron Armor Gu wasn't activated at full power; instead, it completed localized reinforcement and deflection at hair's-breadth intervals following his opponent's attacks, switching between offense and defense with silky smoothness.
When counterattacking, every thrust and flick of the Metal Rend Gu's edge on his sword landed precisely in Lin Tao's openings—those moments when old force had just departed and new force hadn't yet arrived.
Not a single superfluous movement, not a single drop of Primeval Essence wasted.
This was top-tier combat proficiency.
The gap in strength was like an insurmountable chasm. Lin Tao gave everything he had, played all his cards, even traded injuries for injuries, yet couldn't even touch Lin Feng's sleeve.
Before long, Lin Tao despairingly realized that all his attacks were being effortlessly neutralized. He was like a mouse being toyed with by a cat—all his struggles merely entertained the audience.
Clang.
With a crisp sound, Lin Feng's sword precisely flicked Lin Tao's cleaver away. The cold blade tip stopped steadily before Lin Tao's throat.
Lin Tao gasped heavily, looking at Lin Feng whose breathing hadn't even wavered, and swallowed bitterly.
"I... concede."
Clean, flawless domination.
After his victory, Lin Feng showed no intent to humiliate his opponent further, no trace of a victor's arrogance. With a flick of his wrist, he twirled his sword in an elegant flourish and sheathed it in one fluid motion.
He stepped back half a pace, cupped his hands toward the ashen-faced Lin Tao, his voice warm as a spring breeze:
"Much obliged, Senior Brother Lin Tao. Your blade technique has grown ever more refined. If not for my advantage in Gu worms, today's outcome would have been uncertain."
A flawless façade—the ultimate art of winning hearts.
The venue fell silent for a heartbeat, then erupted!
"Young Master Feng is mighty!"
"Not only supremely skilled but so humble and courteous—this is the future of our Black Blood Stockade!"
Cheers surged like a tidal wave. The top seed's popularity and prestige reached an unprecedented peak as he exited gracefully.
On the core viewing platform.
Patriarch Lin Cang and Supreme Elder Lin Zhen exchanged smiles. They raised their teacups, clinked them lightly, their eyes filled with undisguised doting and satisfaction.
For those in power, an heir like Lin Feng—capable in battle, skilled with people, politically savvy, able to hold the clan's hearts firmly in his grasp—was simply heaven's greatest gift to the family.
Below, Lin Mu blended into the fervent crowd and cooperatively applauded.
He was quite happy to see this outcome.
The stronger, loftier, and more radiant Lin Feng appeared, the safer and more convenient it became for Lin Mu—his "trusted subordinate" and Steward—to operate in the market district and clan affairs.
It's good to enjoy shade under a great tree. At least until Lin Mu himself grew into a towering giant capable of weathering storms, he was content to watch this tree flourish ever more.
With Lin Feng's victory, the top thirty-two's landscape had become clear.
Lin Yan's violent domination, Lin Feng's impeccable performance, and the dark horse Lin Wuxie—whom Lin Mu had personally arranged to "exit gracefully" while keeping his secrets safe. The fate trajectories of the major seeds had each found their place.
Just as the audience remained immersed in Lin Feng's peerless display, the referee's slightly hoarse voice once again spread through the amplification Gu, suppressing all the clamor.
"Fourth Arena!"
As this announcement rang out, all eyes—including Lin Mu's sharp gaze hidden in the crowd—turned in unison toward the final corner of the preparation area.
"Lin Xue of the Medicine Hall versus Inner Disciple Lin Lan!"
Lin Mu narrowed his eyes slightly.
The three major seeds had all made their appearance. Now, at last, it was time for the woman he currently understood least to take the stage.