A voice rose: "If so, let Emei and Longhu unite once more to reseal it!" the middle-aged man urged.
Zhang shook his head. "It won't be that simple."
"Then let us all join forces—for the sake of the world!" Cui Shensi declared.
Qingxuan spoke softly, "Three centuries ago, we used the Forbidden Pure Yang Array—five young yang cultivators channeled concentrated yang energy to bind the Chaos Entity. Its power crushed our enemies but devastated the practitioners, often ending their bloodlines. Since Tang times, all sects forbade it—only Longhu retains the record."
The man pressed on: "If saving the world costs one's lineage, so be it. What does the Pure Yang youth require as recompense?"
Zhang replied, "They must be under twenty-five, pure yang in body and spirit, with strong cultivation. Should they succeed, Longhu offers to teach its supreme arts—Purple Lightning and Azure Thunder."
A murmur swept the hall—such arts were the Celestial Masters' most jealously guarded secrets. At Qingxuan's nod, candidates stepped forward.
After drawing lots, six youths remained eligible. Zhengqing found himself in the final match. Nervous, he looked to Cui Shensi, who patted his shoulder. "You have the talisman's protection."
They cleared a circle in the hall for matches, elimination style. Zhang laid out the rules: "Step beyond the ring, and you lose. Do we agree?" All nodded.
The first bout saw Ma Sect's Qian Tao defeated by Pai Sect's Wang Shanying, who unleashed flame and thunder techniques in a dazzling duel.
The second pitted Sun Wenxing of Qingcheng against Zhou Qiang of Kunlun. Sun's smoke array briefly disoriented Zhou until he cleared the haze with a single red‐beam strike. Zhou won by decisive blows.
In the final match, Zhengqing faced a lone wanderer, Li Jimin. Awkwardly, Zhengqing punched, but Li sidestepped and hurled him out of the ring. As Zhengqing tumbled toward the hall entrance, a mighty force arrested his fall—he landed back inside the circle on both feet.
Everyone turned toward the doorway and saw three figures silhouetted against the light—strangers whose arrival none had anticipated.
"Who are you?" Zhang called.
A clear voice replied, "May I join the contest?" Its speaker, a silver‐eared youth in modern garb, stepped forward unhindered. Flanking him were two companions—one with sorrow in his brow, the other youthful and apprehensive.
Li Jimin, still flush with victory, leaped up to challenge. Before he could strike, the left youth flicked out a slender whip—it coiled around Li's arm, revealing itself as a golden money snake. Li screamed in pain as dark venom spread, then the right‐hand companion applied white powder that drew out the toxin and restored his flesh.
The silver‐eared youth bowed apologetically. "My fourth senior brother Ziegler—I mean Qi Ziegler—has acted rashly. These are my sixth senior brother Jiang Hui and I am Lan Xuan of the Hidden Miao Sect."
A stir ran through the hall. The Hidden Sect of Indigo, long a mystery, had finally shown its face.
"Then let us reseal the Chaos Entity together," Cui Shensi urged.
Zhang the Celestial Master only shook his head: "Alas, it will not be so easy."
"What difficulty stands in our way?" Cui Shensi pressed. "If this is truly for the people beneath Heaven, we ought to unite our efforts!"
Zhang the Celestial Master remained silent, shaking his head repeatedly. At his side, Abbot Qingxuan spoke softly: "In those days we expended vast reserves of vital energy and shattered countless treasures, yet found no way to conquer the Chaos Entity. Only when Master Zhang reluctantly deployed the Pure Yang Array—strictly forbidden by orthodox sects—did we manage to seal it. The Chaos Entity's nature is yin; only the fiercest yang force can restrain it. That Array calls upon five pure‐yang youths whose combined yang qi erupts with terrible might—but doing so ravages their life force, often extinguishing their bloodline. Since the Tang dynasty, every orthodox school outlawed it. Only Longhu Mountain preserves its teachings. Now, faced with no choice, we must reopen the Array—an utter misfortune for the righteous path! And since our entire Emei assembly is composed of women, we have no suitable candidate."
A broad‐shouldered middle‐aged man thundered: "If subduing the demon risks ending one's lineage, so be it! What do these Pure Yang youths require in return?"
Zhang at last raised his head. "They must be under twenty‐five years old, untainted by carnal attachments, and possess strong cultivation. In return for their sacrifice, Longhu Mountain will teach them its most secret arts: Purple Lightning and Azure Thunder."
A roar of excitement swept the hall. Purple Lightning and Azure Thunder were the Celestial Masters' ultimate legacy—never before publicly offered. Even Abbot Qingxuan noted that not every volunteer would perish; dozens stepped forward, eager.
Zhang held up a hand. "Very well. To ensure we select the finest, let us hold a brief contest. Four champions plus myself will make the requisite five yang practitioners."
Murmurs of astonishment broke out: the young Master Zhang, barely twenty, displayed rare courage and conviction. Those once hesitant now steeled themselves.
Though hundreds filled the hall, only six met the criteria. Among them stood Ou Zhengqing, heart pounding—he knew only soul‐binding arts, no martial skills. Cui Shensi patted his shoulder and murmured, "Relax—you have the jade talisman to protect you."
A great space was cleared and a circle drawn on the floor. Matches would be single elimination; stepping outside the ring meant defeat. Zhengqing drew the last pairing.
Zhang outlined the rules: "This is purely a selection. Each bout ends the moment someone's foot crosses the boundary. Agreed?" Everyone nodded.
Qin Xiaoshuang read the first match: "Round One: Qian Tao of Ma Sect versus Wang Shanying of the Pai Sect."
The two youths took their places, bowed, then clashed. Blows and counters flew in perfect rhythm, neither yielding. At the height of their duel, Qian Tao's left finger flared with crimson flame, streaking toward Wang's face.
Wang vanished in a blur, evaded the fire, and intoned a spell. His right palm ignited with golden thunder and struck the air before Qian Tao with a booming crack. Qian staggered back, shoulder aflame, and tumbled beyond the ring. The Pai Sect claimed victory.
Wang Shanying produced a small vial and offered it to Qian Tao with calm courtesy: "My Thunder Palm injures the bones so that they shatter three days hence. Drink this antidote at once." Grateful, Qian accepted and rejoined the ranks—no protest arose from Ma Sect.
Qin Xiaoshuang announced the next pairing: "Round Two: Sun Wenxing of Qingcheng versus Zhou Qiang of Kunlun."
Sun Wenxing darted forward like a monkey and unleashed his signature Mist Array. Within seconds, a swath of inky vapor filled the circle, obscuring all sight. Zhou Qiang staggered under a flurry of hidden strikes and nearly spilled out of bounds. Hearts clenched in the audience.
Yet Zhou tapped his bronze helm, and a scarlet beam shot forth, slicing the mist like a sword. Sun's position became clear; he advanced for a final exchange and was toppled by Zhou's precise palm strikes.
The final match: Ou Zhengqing against the lone wanderer Li Jimin. Zhengqing's nerves betrayed him—his first punch swung wide and found only empty air. Li Jimin simply hooked with his left leg, drew back his right hand, and sent Zhengqing hurtling forward. Zhengqing landed hard but managed to stay inside the circle, though pain shot through his chest and spine.
Li Jimin stepped in, gripped Zhengqing's collar, and launched him like a sling—Zhengqing soared over the heads of the crowd, destined to crash beyond the hall's great doors. Defeat seemed certain.
At that instant, a hidden force pressed upward beneath Zhengqing's back, halting his fall. The same surge flung him inward, planting both feet firmly inside the ring.
A stunned hush fell. All eyes swung toward the entrance, where three figures now stood—backlit, faces unseen—strangers whose timely arrival would forever alter the course of the trial.