The Great Yan Dynasty, Great Yan County, Lin City
Today, Lin City was unusually bustling—and for a simple reason: it was the day of the Lin Clan's grand clan gathering.
As one of the four great clans of the Great Yan Dynasty, the Lin Clan's gathering was naturally unlike those of smaller families.
Being one of the top powers in the dynasty, the Lin Clan's event drew invitations from numerous powerful factions.
Without exception, all invited parties accepted the invitation—many even considered it a great honor. To be invited by the Lin Clan was not only prestigious, but also an acknowledgment of their strength.
Thus, the champion of each Lin Clan gathering became renowned throughout the Great Yan Dynasty, hailed as a prodigy of peerless talent.
This year's gathering was no exception—if anything, it was even more extraordinary.
The strongest contender was Lin Langtian, praised by the clan's elders as a once-in-a-century genius—the greatest talent the Lin Clan had ever produced.
At this moment, in the heart of Lin City, the Lin Clan's annual clan assembly was taking place within an enormous, majestic arena.
The arena itself was unique—not a typical square, but a vast, conical battlefield. Narrow at the top and wide at the base, it was layered with hundreds of massive stone platforms, stacked in tiers. The higher one ascended, the fewer platforms there were. At the very peak—level with the upper rim of the colosseum—there was only a single platform.
Clearly, the rules were simple: participants began at the bottom and fought their way up, with the final battle taking place atop the highest platform to determine the champion.
The victor would earn fame across the Great Yan Empire and gain access to the Lin Clan's secret treasury. The loser would leave in shame.
At this moment, the arena was already teeming with flickering figures. Surges of Yuan Qi collided in the air, mixed with mysterious mental fluctuations. The clan assembly had officially begun.
"Lin Clan, Lin Langtian!"
"Yan City Branch, Lin Xiao!"
As the referee gave the signal, all eyes turned toward a distant platform—not because of the branch family member, but because of his opponent.
Lin Langtian had broken through to the Yuan Dan Realm at just twenty years old. In the Great Yan Dynasty, such an achievement before the age of thirty was extremely rare—accomplishing it at twenty was nearly unheard of.
A promising future—that was the unanimous assessment of the clan elders.
To bolster Lin Langtian's reputation, the elders had even imposed restrictions on the gathering, barring several clan members who, though stronger or older, might threaten his victory.
With such powerful backing, Lin Langtian was no mere showpiece.
One move.
Just one move—and Lin Xiao from the branch family was defeated, his meridians shattered. Unless a miracle occurred, he would likely remain stuck at the late Earth Realm for life.
But no one cared. Except for Lin Xiao's father and brothers, the crowd erupted in cheers—chanting Lin Langtian's name.
Everyone knew: today, this man would become the star of the clan gathering.
One move.
Two moves.
Three.
Five.
Ten!
Lin Langtian stood tall atop the highest platform.
The final match—the one everyone had anticipated to be a climactic battle—had ended without suspense.
Ten moves.
From the start of the duel to its conclusion, less than half a cup of tea's time had passed. With just ten strikes, Lin Langtian crushed his opponent and secured the championship.
That night, Lin Langtian's name echoed throughout the Great Yan Dynasty. He was hailed by thousands as the Lin Clan's greatest prodigy.
High atop the Lin Clan's rear mountain, a small wooden hut stood quietly.
To its left sat a square stone table. On the right, a towering tree cast long shadows across the peak.
Beneath the tree sat a boy of about twelve or thirteen, cross-legged in meditation. Across his knees lay a long, ancient-looking black sword.
Whoosh!
A piercing wind broke the silence as an elderly man in a purple robe appeared several meters in front of the boy. When the boy didn't react, the old man showed no anger—instead, he walked to the stone table and seated himself calmly.
Spotting a teapot, he poured himself a cup of tea and began waiting quietly.
Moments later, the boy opened his eyes. Without glancing at the old man, he stood, slung the sword across his back, walked to the table, took a seat, poured himself a cup of tea, and finally asked:
"What brings the Elder here?"
"Xiao Yu, do you know…"
The old man—Lin Mu, Grand Elder of the Lin Clan—trailed off as he met the boy's sharp, eagle-eyed gaze. The rest of his sentence remained unsaid.
But Lin Yu, the boy, did not let it go. He stood again and walked to an open space nearby, calling out:
"It's rare for the Elder to have free time today. Since you're here, why not spar with me?"
He raised his long sword, pointing the blade straight at Lin Mu.
The old man sighed and reluctantly stood up.
As Lin Mu stepped into the clearing, Lin Yu made the first move. The sword came flashing down. Lin Mu remained calm, forming a hand seal and raising his palm to meet the strike. The blade stopped, unable to pierce through.
Lin Yu didn't hesitate—he shifted his stance and attacked again, faster and sharper. Lin Mu began to falter under the pressure, struggling to defend as easily as before.
Sword light danced across the battlefield. The two figures flickered back and forth, one pressing the attack, the other retreating in defense.
At some point, a middle-aged man in a blue robe appeared and sat quietly at the stone table, sipping tea as he watched.
The pace of the fight quickened. Then—like a storm breaking—everything stopped.
The result was clear. Lin Yu's pitch-black sword was now held against Lin Mu's neck, the blade hovering inches from his throat.
Lin Mu, a senior elder of the Lin Clan, had been defeated. Of course, he had only used the same cultivation level as Lin Yu—but even so, the outcome was remarkable.
If others knew that a senior elder had been beaten by a youth, who knew how they would react?
Thankfully, only three people were aware of the match.
"Enough, Yu'er. Lower your sword."
Lin Yu frowned, then slowly obeyed. Turning toward the blue-robed man, he spoke coldly:
"Father."
"Clan Leader."
The man was Lin Fan—head of the Lin Clan, and a Nirvana Realm expert.