"Take this, you rat!"

  A fireball the size of a small boulder was unched at Rotten Ya!

  Rotten Ya ughed, sprinting away from the fireball’s range with ease. "Nice try, brat. Did you learn that from a child’s fireworks dispy?"

  The crowd roared with boos and jeering, one voice rising above the others. "Zhao, my grandma shoots bigger fireballs than that!"

  Zhao Ming gnashed his teeth, fiercely gring at the tanned man mixed in the crowd then back at his scrawny opponent. "Is a rookie crusher like you just going to keep running away?"

  Rotten Ya fshed his golden tooth. "Brat, your goading skills are just as blind as your aim. Maybe you should consider a new profession. I hear being a bcksmith is less demanding on aim."

  "Better start forging those horseshoes, Zhao!"

  "Come on, Mingo! Fight back! You’re getting roasted like a pig at a festival!"

  "Let’s see you dodge this!" Zhao Ming growled and retreated to open some distance, puffing up his lungs before spewing out wave after waves of scorching fireballs up into the air.

  Fire Style: Fming Arrow Barrage!

  Watching the fist-sized fireballs rain down all around him and setting the ground on fire, a cocky grin arose on Rotten Ya’s face. "That’s more like it."

  Rotten Ya was immediately on the move, weaving around to slip between the gaps of the barrage while his dagger fshed around, cutting apart any fireball he couldn’t dodge!

  Next to Bubai, the tanned baldy angrily spat out, "Gah! That’s the rotten guy’s Fme Cutter. A low-grade magic weapon. Not too useful against anything else outside of weak fmes, but utterly disgusting all the same."

  In low-level battles like these where fire-attribute spells were allegedly the most popur means, Bubai could see why anyone would find that weapon to be annoying.

  Of course, just owning the weapon isn’t enough to dismantle fireballs like this.

  Just as important was footwork and battlefield insight for optimal position. Most importantly was martial skills!

  At a gnce, Bubai could already see that Rotten Ya’s mastery of the dagger was on par with his own, if not better!

  Only someone at this skill level could make the best use of such a magic weapon!

  Rotten Ya fully demonstrated this in the ring, using minimal effort to carve out a living space for himself.

  At this rate, before Rotten Ya gets roasted, Zhao Ming will cough out nothing but air!

  Of course, Bubai wasn’t the only one that understood this. Zhao Ming also did. That’s why…

  Tap. Tap. Tap! Whoosh!

  While Rotten Ya underwent the final baptism from what was left of the barrage, Zhao Ming was already on his way over with machete and dagger swinging at the preoccupied opponent!

  A wall behind. The enemy in front. Fire on all sides.

  There was only one Fme Cutter. Either block the fire or defend against the weapons aimed to kill!

  What choice will the cornered beast make?

  In the end, the Fme Cutter went and met the fireballs head-on! This left himself wide open to Zhao Ming’s assault!

  But to everyone’s surprise, Zhao Ming actually tripped up at this critical moment and fell over! "Wha-?!"

  Next to Bubai, the baldy spped his knee, exciming, "Gah! That rotten guy’s accursed sand technique!"

  Bubai’s eyes narrowed, locking onto the sand that gobbled up one of Zhao Ming’s foot and hardened over it like an outer shell. "That is… Sand Trap?"

  "Em. This Zhao dolt is too careless. Anyone with brains should know Rotten Ya never goes down the ring without his sandbox."

  Sandbox? Where? Bubai’s eyes sharpened, barely making out the grains of sand spilling out from the ends of Rotten Ya’s trousers.

  Merlin’s beard! This sly guy’s been secretly decorating the arena to his favor throughout the fight!

  If Bubai was careless, even he would get caught by this trap!

  After all, in the heat of battle, who would pay attention to some extra sand on the ground?

  Fortunately, Bubai came to broaden his horizons and would be wary of this trick from now on.

  On the other hand, poor Zhao Ming wasn’t so lucky.

  Zhao Ming wanted to turn the tides, but since he was pnted on the ground, he couldn’t optimally exert any of his martial skills. Thus...

  Dang! A knife was knocked flying away. Stomp. Another dagger was squashed against the ground by a foot.

  Finally, Rotten Ya’s Fme Cutter came in swinging, connecting with Zhao Ming’s blocking arm- Crack!

  Severing the entire arm was difficult at their level, but crippling it was simple.

  "Arggghhh!!! I surrender! I surrender!" There was nothing else Zhao Ming could do but bow down, but...

  A wicked grin surfaced on Rotten Ya’s face. "Game’s over. But who says I accept surrenders…"

  Rotten Ya’s hand became a cw, fmes igniting on his fingertips one at a time.

  Panic exploded on Zhao Ming’s face. "No! You can’t! I-I’ll give you everything!"

  "Keke. Won’t I still get everything once you’re dead? Now, don't blink brats, or you might miss it when I turn him to ash!"

  "No! No! Pit master, save me!"

  This time, no pit master stepped out to save anyone for there was no cn surnamed Zhao in the Sun Furnace Sect.

  Thus, Rotten Ya’s cw smmed down onto Zhao Ming’s head. Nine Yang Bone Cw: Execution!

  "Pit master!!! Please! Anyone- Noooooo!"

  Almost in an instant, Zhao Ming’s eyes caught on fire, and his screams melted into the fmes growing out from his open mouth…

  The inferno roaring to life was reflected in Rotten Ya’s maniacal eyes for only a few breaths before he retracted his cw, leaving nothing but a charred skull attached to the limply toppling over body.

  The public execution caused the audience to fall into a lull of silence, watching Rotten Ya search the corpse for loot.

  It wasn’t until the Pit Master came into the ring to announce the winner that the crowd exploded.

  "Sigh. Looks like another fire’s been snuffed out. What a waste!"

  "Man, now I owe fifty silver! Cursed Zhao! If it weren’t for the disposal rules, I’ll dig his grave and whip his corpse!"

  "Heh. Better luck next time! Maybe try candle-making! That’ll repay your debt eventually. Hahaha!"

  Even the tanned baldy couldn’t help but throw in a jab, "So much for rank 13. Gah, these dolts burn out faster than my old dy's patience! Hopefully the next fight will be more colorful."

  The end of another fight, but obviously not the end of the competition.

  The challenges come in a round-robin fashion, and the fighting pits was a roiling cauldron for eager contenders.

  Each of these contenders were vying for a coveted spot among the top ten who would ascend to exchange pointers with the big shots in the Inner Sect Exchange!

  Honestly, going through all the challengers in a single fighting ring made efficiency seem like a distant dream, but…

  Let’s just say Qi refiner battles really didn’t warrant more than this.

  Qi refiners were essentially still mortals, burning bright like fireflies at dusk. Most cshes don’t st long due to the limited energy of the opposing sides.

  The most essential reason though is the fact that the selection was technically a drawn-out process that spanned the entire year.

  That was where the internal ranking of the fighting pits comes in because only two types of Qi refiners could compete for the quota in these final days of the Outer Sect Exchange.

  Members who managed to keep their names on the ever-shifting Sun Snake List.

  And those seeded pyers from cns with enough influence to bend the rules.

  This set a limit, not only to crack down on underhanded tactics like exhausting key pyers through cannon fodder, but also to avoid wasting the golden core elder’s precious time.

  Even so, the challenges will still be ongoing for a while, but there was no need to stay. He’s seen what he came to see.

  Seeing Bubai get up to leave, the baldy looked over, "Em, going already? My fight is still coming up."

  Bubai gnced back, "Your fight?"

  The baldy cheekily grinned, his thumb pointing at his own face. "Jia Hu."

  Nearby, the disciples erupted into whispers.

  "Hey, isn’t that…?" "Uh… definitely fits the image?" "Yeah, it’s him! Ranked 7 on the Sun Snake List!"

  "Em. Lucky 7, that’s me." Jia Hu’s grin widened, inviting once more, "Sure you not staying to watch?"

  "No need." Bubai decisively left.

  This left Jia Hu grinning. "Confident. I like it. Too bad he has no strength to back it."

  Those words left Bubai a bit confused, but this didn’t stop him from calmly trudging back up the ramp.

  But the rough sandstone underfoot mirrored the rough thoughts swirling in his head.

  He felt it—dozens of eyes making the skin on his back prickle. Judging, mocking, assessing.

  Bubai gnced over his shoulder, catching glimpses of the disciples lining the stand’s ramp path, their expressions ranging from schadenfreude to barely concealed malice.

  Stepping through the archway and into the outer rim hall, Bubai finally got rid of the unnerving stares.

  Trekking along the rounded hallway, the sense of deepening unease gnawed at him.

  The unwarranted attention felt wrong, out of pce, as if everyone knew something he didn’t, but came to a consensus to keep him out of the loop.

  What was going on? Was someone targeting him? Could it be his secret identities were uncovered?

  The answer to this… might lie in that unknown intel seller.

  Bubai’s eyes darted around, searching the long hall until he reached a dead end.

  There, two masked guards stood at each side of a metal door, their spears crossing to block the passage. "Contestants only! Present your Sun Snake Token or be gone."

  This way was a no go. Nor could he wantonly leak his divine sense because the spectating elder might be alerted.

  Sighing inwardly, Bubai turning around without a word and retraced his steps.

  Passing the many archways where the rowdy voices of the crowd flowed out, Bubai eventually arrived at the exit where the grand sandstone stairs beckoned upward like the earth yearning for the sky.

  Determined to keep searching, Bubai went down the other half of the hall.

  Almost a full semi-circle ter, he finally found a hint of who he was looking for.

  A pair of outer disciples were walking toward him, deep in conversation. They hadn’t noticed him yet, but his keen ears picked up their words clearly.

  "… remember that face? Apparently, there's some buzz about him being one of those coming through the backdoor. It was unconfirmed before, but… who knew he’s just a weakling barely scraping the te stage. Definitely a sweet date for all those snakes."

  The other disciple snorted.

  "No wonder everyone’s trying for a higher rank! Everyone can’t wait to give backdoor weaklings like him a warm welcome. Heck, if I ever y eyes on him, I'll yank down his pants and show him just how welcomed he is by going through his backdoor myself!"

  "Oh, really? Then-"

  The man cut himself off when he finally spotted Bubai ahead.

  Both their bodies tensed like strings pulled taut when they saw the identity token hanging on his waist, but when their gazes lifted back up to meet his face…

  That same strange yet familiar mask of recognition returned, as if they’d just confirmed some inside joke.

  "That’s the one, isn’t it?" The backdoor man whispered to the other.

  "It’s got to be. Can’t be wrong," the other agreed, nudging his partner in the ribs. "Go. Go!"

  With that, they scurried past him as if there was a pgue here.

  Bubai’s fingers twitched at his side, a sharp "stop" on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back.

  This wasn’t time to teach them a lesson in manners—not now.

  Because he’d just spotted the real source of his troubles standing next to an archway leading into the fighting pits stands.

  A shorty whose hair resembled a disheveled bird’s nest. His face was masked, but that appearance can’t be any more familiar.

  Qian Bage.

  At the same time when recognition dawned, the other simirly spotted him.

  Caught in the act like a thief in the gre of the spotlight, his hand, which had been in the process of stowing away some spirit stones, froze mid-motion.

  This was the one spreading the rumors, no doubt about it. And from the look on his face... he wasn’t expecting to run into Bubai so soon—or perhaps at all.