"You fucking... WILL DIE A HORRIBLE DEATH!!!"
Lin Tian's miserable wail, accompanied by a three-foot-high pillar of blood, ultimately became the most unforgettable rest note of this Outer Court Grand Tournament's finals.
Three days later.
Inner Sect Plaza. On a massive Dao arena paved with white jade, ethereal immortal music played faintly as spirit cranes circled above.
This was a holy land that outer court disciples usually had absolutely no qualifications to set foot in.
And today, the award ceremony for the Top 8 of this Outer Court Grand Tournament, along with the apprenticeship ceremony, was being held here with grand solemnity.
Below the arena stage, the Top 8 competitors lined up in a row.
Mo Fan stood at the very edge in the eighth position, looking full of energy with a rosy complexion.
He had hidden in his room for the past three days, going nowhere, and gotten some solid, good sleep. As a result, his Qi and blood were even more condensed and solid.
Ranked second, Shen Qiu was still dressed in her tight purple-black martial suit, her expression as cold as frost.
Her previous battle damage had long been restored to its original state under the nourishment of pills. In fact, having broken and rebuilt, her aura was even deeper.
However, standing in the very center—the Grand Champion Lin Tian, who should have been high-spirited and enjoying the worship of the masses...
At this moment, his face looked uglier than if he had eaten ten pounds of dead flies.
His body was still trembling slightly, his hands gripping a copy of the Azure Cloud Daily issued just this morning in a death grip.
Yes, he finally got his wish: an exclusive, full-page front-page headline!
The major media outlets had finally poured all their lenses and ink onto him, the "Newly Crowned Outer Court King"!
This was simply a "Monkey's Paw" style of wish fulfillment.
The front page of the newspaper had an extremely huge, extremely high-definition picture.
But it wasn't his peerless, heroic posture of drawing his sword and looking around in aloof loneliness.
It was an "uncensored candid shot" of his eyes rolled back, spewing a three-foot-high miserable yet beautiful pillar of blood, his body stiffly falling straight backward!
What murdered the heart even more was the sensationalist headline next to it, bolded and marked in red:
"SHOCKING! Why Did the Newly Crowned Outer Court King Vomit Blood and Faint After the Match? Is it an Unstable Foundation Caused by Rushing for Success, or the Tragic Price of Abusing Banned Drugs? Experts Provide In-Depth Analysis!"
Lin Tian felt like his back molars were going to shatter from gritting them.
Turning his head slightly, he could hear the undisguised whispers of the inner sect onlookers behind him.
"Hey, look how pale his face is; what the newspaper said must be true."
"To think he took that kind of potential-overdrawing banned drug just to win an outer court tournament. So what if he won? His foundation is ruined; his life will stop right here."
"What a pity for Junior Sister Shen Qiu. If this kid didn't go crazy on drugs, the championship would definitely be hers..."
Enraged to the point of internal injury!
Lin Tian's eyes were blood-red, his gaze cutting ruthlessly toward Mo Fan standing at the very edge, like a knife quenched in poison.
Not only did he fail to reap the fame and worship he deserved, but he was also painted by these paparazzi as a "hollow fraud who only barely beat Shen Qiu by taking drugs"!
And the instigator of all this was that servant who deliberately disgusted him in the quarterfinals!
"The auspicious hour has arrived!"
High up on the platform, the inner sect deacon elder in charge of hosting announced loudly, interrupting Lin Tian's incompetent rage.
"First, please welcome the Champion of this Outer Court Grand Tournament, Lin Tian, to step up and receive his rewards!"
Lin Tian took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the surging Qi and blood in his chest.
He tried hard to squeeze out a proud and confident smile, walking step by step up to the high platform that symbolized glory.
The elder publicly announced the generous rewards: a [ Foundation Establishment Pill ] capable of increasing the probability of Foundation Establishment by thirty percent, a top-tier magical artifact longsword, and fifty mid-grade Spirit Stones.
This should have been the pinnacle of glory.
Moreover, Lin Tian was already the pre-selected registered disciple of a certain inner sect Sword Peak elder.
At this moment, that elder stepped forward as promised, stroking his beard and smiling as he officially accepted Lin Tian into his tutelage.
Although the quality of this tournament was evaluated by the higher-ups as "average," combat pragmatists like Lin Tian—who had fought their way up from the bottom through mountains of corpses and seas of blood—were still the backbone forces needed by the various peaks in the inner sect.
However, when Lin Tian respectfully received the Foundation Establishment Pill and kowtowed to his master...
He could still hear the faint, sympathetic voices coming from below the stage:
"The elder is truly painstaking, not even disdaining a disciple with a damaged foundation like this..."
"..." The smile on Lin Tian's face froze instantly, almost spitting out another mouthful of old blood right there on the stage.
"Next, please welcome the runner-up of the tournament, Shen Qiu, to step forward!"
With the deacon elder's call, the art style abruptly changed.
Shen Qiu, her clothes fluttering, walked up to the high platform with light steps. There were no emotional fluctuations on that cold, flawlessly beautiful face, as if even this high-and-mighty inner sect couldn't cause a single ripple in her heart.
But while she could maintain her aloofness, those power-holding elders on the high platform couldn't sit still!
"Ahem!"
An elder wearing an alchemist's Daoist robe with a glowing red face was the first to stand up, his eyes fiery.
"Shen Qiu girl, your skill in controlling the crane with a long whip is excellent; your Divine Sense must be far beyond ordinary! It is only right that you join my Pill Cauldron Peak. This old man will take you as a personal disciple and guarantee you an endless supply of pills!"
"Bullshit!"
A fiery-tempered sword-wielding elder nearby slammed the table violently.
"That is a typical multi-thread kiting combat talent! Coming to my Thousand Mechanisms Peak to learn formations and the Dao of artifact manipulation is the true path! You pill refiners stay out of it and stop joining the fun!"
"Martial Niece Shen, my Sunset Peak is all female cultivators, most suitable for you..."
A full four or five power-holding elders threw out olive branches simultaneously.
To snatch this "iceberg seedling with both traffic and strength, plus excellent temperament," they even disregarded their image and bickered on the spot in front of the entire sect.
Facing this kind of treatment, which in past years only the Grand Champion was worthy of enjoying...
The jealousy in Lin Tian's eyes—standing to the side holding his Foundation Establishment Pill—almost materialized and sprayed out.
Meanwhile, Shen Qiu, situated at the center of the storm, still maintained her "strangers keep out" iceberg persona.
She bowed slightly and spoke, neither humble nor overbearing:
"Many thanks to all the elders for your deep love. This disciple has just entered the inner sect and feels anxious and uneasy. I still need a few days to calm my mind and think before deciding my Dao path."
These words, retreating in order to advance, not only didn't enrage the elders, but actually made those old folks appreciate her even more.
"Neither arrogant nor rash, unfazed by favor or disgrace! Good mindset!"
"No matter! Girl, take your time to think. The doors of my Pill Cauldron Peak are forever open to you!"
Watching this scene of stars arching around the moon, Lin Tian silently squeezed several cracks into the box holding his Foundation Establishment Pill.
The following procedures went step by step.
The third to seventh place competitors stepped forward in turn and received their respective rewards.
Although they weren't as highly sought after as Shen Qiu, they were all taken in by different halls or ordinary elders of the inner sect.
Everything went very smoothly; the atmosphere was harmonious and genial.
Until...
"Eighth place, Lu Xiaoqi, step forward to receive your rewards."
Mo Fan perked up.
He adjusted his washed-out clothes, carrying that [ Pale Bone Scepter ] wrapped tightly in coarse cloth on his back. Looking like an honest, simple country bumpkin who had never seen the world, he walked forward briskly.
"Disciple Lu Xiaoqi, pays respects to all the elders!"
Mo Fan bowed deeply, even bending his waist to a full ninety degrees. Then, he raised his head with a look of anticipation, waiting for the elders to assign him as a "glorious inner sect disciple."
However.
The massive high platform suddenly plunged into a bizarre dead silence lasting for half a minute.
Staring blankly at each other.
The elders, who just moments ago were arguing red in the face to snatch Shen Qiu, even wishing they could roll up their sleeves and fight, now looked at you, and you looked at me.
No one uttered a sound.
A suffocating awkwardness permeated the air.
One fiery-tempered elder suddenly coughed violently, turned his head, picked up his teacup, and began to study the blue-and-white porcelain patterns on the cup with extreme seriousness.
Another elder lifted his head, looking at the cloudless sky, as if those few circling spirit cranes contained the ultimate truths of the Great Dao of Heaven and Earth.
The entire leadership on the high platform collectively entered a "404 Error" state in this moment.
Actually, everyone knew full well in their hearts.
Who was this kid? That was the caretaker of A-Song, the peerless genius who was just taken as the Sect Master's personal disciple!
Moreover, after the fermentation of those few previous incidents, the higher-ups had already categorized him.
This was an "honest man" who was stupid, crude, and lustful, but extremely grateful to the Sect Master and fiercely protective of his younger brother.
Logically speaking, for A-Song's sake, or even to show loyalty to the Sect Master, any elder stepping forward and giving some face to take him in as a registered disciple wasn't impossible. It would be an easy favor.
BUT...
The reality of the problem was too harsh—The specialization didn't match at all!
What kind of sect was Azure Cloud Sect? It was an orthodox spell and sword cultivation sect!
The elders seated here either played with flying swords, formed hand seals, or refined pills and laid formations.
Not a single one was a body cultivator!
You wanted them to take in a "pure brute" who didn't even have the trashiest waste Spirit Root, couldn't sense spiritual Qi at all, and whose only fighting method was swinging a coarse cloth stick to smash people's skulls?
What would they teach?
Teach him how to make his chest muscles bigger? Or teach him how to catch flying swords with his head?
If word of this got out, tomorrow's headline in the Azure Cloud Daily would absolutely belong to whoever took him in.
For elders who valued their face more than their own lives, taking such a disciple was simply worse than killing them.
This wasn't some genius's family member; this was a fucking hot potato!