“Lin Yun’s in—how many stages he’ll clear, let’s watch,” an envoy said.
The envoys turned to the projection screen.
Normally, a third-rank Mahayana candidate barely piqued their interest—Tribulation realm champs were the draw in past exams.
But with this kerfuffle, plus Old Cheng and Liang Yuan’s 10,000 Tribulation Pill wager, they were hooked on Lin Yun’s run.
Even Hall Master He fixed his gaze on the screen.
Meanwhile.
Lin Yun zipped into the entrance.
Inside, light dimmed fast—he landed, inching forward warily.
No clue what was ahead—caution was key.
A few steps in, he hit a massive arena.
It was huge—big as a major indoor stadium, roomy enough for a thousand fighters without a squeeze.
On the platform stood a pitch-black figure.
“This… ain’t alive.”
Lin Yun sensed zero life from it.
*Boom!*
As he stepped onto the arena, the black figure lunged, out for blood.
“Gone!”
Lin Yun slashed swift.
*Whoosh!*
Sword light sliced it in two—poof, gone.
“That’s first stage down, yeah?” Lin Yun muttered.
The weakest prior candidates hit double digits, so the first ten were a breeze—even for the others.
After nixing the shadow, the dark surroundings lit up.
Ahead, a 20-meter stone gate loomed.
It creaked open.
Lin Yun eyed it—pitch black inside.
“Hm, something’s moving.”
Noises echoed from within.
Seconds later, a metal-armored stone guard stomped out.
Gate slammed shut behind it.
*Zip!*—it charged, spear thrusting at Lin Yun!
“Gone!”
Lin Yun slashed again—one strike, dusted!
Like before, gate rose, another shadow darted out—same deal, one sword.
Gate kept lifting.
Each foe Lin Yun dropped triggered a new one from the gate, rushing the arena!
Mostly guards like that, or lifeless puppets.
One kill, one stage cleared.
…
Now, Lin Yun had axed his tenth shadow beast—ten stages down.
Each foe was tougher than the last.
But so far, even as they ramped up, Lin Yun one-shotted them all.
“Next!”
He was in the groove—after slicing this one, he eyed the gate, ready for more!
Each fight, a stage.
Eleventh— one sword!
Twelfth— one sword!
…
Now, nineteenth stage.
From what Lin Yun knew, the top third-rank Mahayana before him hit 18—couldn’t crack 19, so scored 18.
Nineteenth stage was a wall for your average third-rank Mahayana!
On the arena.
A twin-headed wolf beast burst from the gate.
“A beast?” Lin Yun blinked, surprised.
First 18 were puppets—no real beasts.
This was the genuine article—way different from those lifeless things!
Beasts were tricky—tough hides, brutal strength, one slip and you’re toast.
No beast-fighting chops? Big trouble!
Outside, judges’ stand.
Hall Master He and the envoys gawked, shock creeping in.
Lin Yun breezed through 18 stages—all one-move kills—stunner!
Normally, third-rank Mahayana struggled post-15.
Of course, they didn’t realize judging Lin Yun by third-rank Mahayana standards was bonkers!
“This stage is a leap—real beast! Most third-rank Mahayana flop here, he’s been smooth so far, but this one’s dicey,” Old Cheng said.
Several envoys nodded.
“He’ll ace it, no sweat,” Liang Yuan grinned.
On the arena.
“Roar!”
The twin-headed wolf spotted Lin Yun, bellowed, and charged, claws slashing wild!
Lin Yun dodged sharp, sidestepping the frontal lunge, then darted low.
“Tenth-layer Taixu Power—unleash!”
His sword flared, raw power surging, slashing at the beast’s soft underbelly.
*Splurch!*
The Holy Spirit-grade blade tore through, piercing its heart.
“Roar!”
The twin-head wailed, staggered back, then slumped dead on the arena.
Nineteenth stage done.
Lin Yun cleared it smooth.
“This beast’s weak—bit stronger than your average third-rank Mahayana, that’s it,” Lin Yun mumbled.
Dropping it was a cinch for him.
For Lin Yun, sure.
But for monks with no beast-fighting know-how, this thing’d be a nightmare!
Outside.
Judges’ stand.
“This…”
The envoys and Hall Master He locked onto the screen, eyes wide with disbelief.
They’d figured a real beast would halt Lin Yun’s roll.
At least give him a proper scrap, right?
Nope—one sword, done!
That one-strike win blew their minds!
“This kid’s got beast-fighting savvy,” Hall Master He stared at Lin Yun’s figure on-screen, expression tangled.
He could tell—Lin Yun’s move was slick, precise, ruthless, nailing the beast’s weak spot in one go, no fluff.
Only a beast-battling veteran could pull that off!
Even a first-turn Tribulation realm greenhorn would flail a bit, wasting moves—win sure, but burning extra juice.
