Chapter 68: Undercurrents Stir

Dugu Ling, fully dressed and carrying the Crimson Blood and the Black Iron Warhammer on his back, arrived at the central plaza of the Hidden God Pavilion. As he made his way there, he ran into Ouyang Chi and Bo Juncheng, who were hurrying to the same place.

“Brother Dugu, you’re early today. Juncheng and I were just about to find you, but you’ve beaten us here,” Ouyang Chi called out with a laugh as soon as he spotted Dugu Ling from afar.

“Not at all, Brother Ouyang, you’re too polite,” Dugu Ling replied with a smile, clasping his hands in greeting.

“It’s you who are modest, Brother Dugu. Not only do you appear extraordinary, but your strength is equally impressive: top three in the preliminary trial, a well-deserved leader. We both owe our success to your presence,” Bo Juncheng said, stepping forward.

“All right, let’s go check the team assignments for this round,” Dugu Ling suggested, his attention fixed on the grouping for the upcoming trial.

“Exactly my thought. Brother Dugu, come, let me lead the way,” Bo Juncheng replied, taking the lead and guiding Ouyang Chi and Dugu Ling. He seemed very familiar with the Hidden God Pavilion, not as if this were his first time there.

Shortly after Dugu Ling left, a burly, bald man—at least a head taller than Dugu Ling—arrived at the spot Dugu Ling had just vacated, narrowing his eyes as he watched Dugu Ling’s departing figure.

At his side, a sly-looking man sidled up and whispered, “Boss, that guy is the ‘White-Haired King of Strength.’ It’s said the giant hammer on his back is so heavy that even an ordinary Supreme Immortal might not be able to lift it.”

“Hmph. ‘White-Haired King of Strength,’ is he? I don’t believe anyone in this world is stronger than I am. When the time comes, I’ll show him the power of my ‘Meteor Twin Hammers,’” the bald man retorted, gripping the two massive hammers on his back, each as large as a millstone—clearly not weapons for the faint of heart.

“Of course, boss. Among your peers, your strength is unmatched, especially since you’ve trained in the family’s ‘Thousand-Pound Divine Force Manual.’ That white-haired brat is no match for you. If luck puts him in your group for the trial, boss, you must teach him a lesson and put him in his place,” the sly man fawned obsequiously.

“Hmph. Not just him—I’ll defeat every contestant and take first place in my group,” the bald man declared, rubbing his shiny head.

Not far away, a man in white robes, fan in hand, with refined features and the demeanor of a scholar, watched Dugu Ling’s retreating figure. As he gently waved his fan, he smiled and murmured, “So that is the ‘White-Haired King of Strength’? His aura is truly remarkable.”

Then, the man in white slowly closed his eyes, his fan still moving. After a moment, he suddenly opened them, and two nearly tangible beams of golden light flashed from his gaze before quickly fading. Had anyone seen his eyes then, they would have been astonished to discover they were a brilliant gold.

He snapped his fan shut, and the gentle, approachable air about him vanished, replaced by an overwhelming presence as if he could move mountains and rivers. He murmured to himself, “This time, I will take first place in the trial.”

Meanwhile, at another corner of the plaza, a mischievous yet charming little girl watched Dugu Ling leave, a sly grin on her face. No one could guess what she was thinking.

Bo Juncheng led the two to the area where the group assignments were posted. The place was already packed with people. From a distance, Dugu Ling saw that, just as Bo Juncheng and Ouyang Chi had said, the Hidden God Pavilion had divided the thousand successful candidates from the preliminary trial into ten groups, each with a hundred people. Only the top contestant from each group would pass this trial and move on to the selection for the Celestial Trial.

A quick glance at the lists brought Dugu Ling relief: he, Bo Juncheng, and Ouyang Chi were not placed in the same group. This meant they would be spared from facing each other, though to be fair, even if they had, given their friendship, Bo Juncheng and Ouyang Chi would likely have forfeited rather than fight Dugu Ling—but that would have made him feel awkward.

While Dugu Ling rejoiced inwardly, Ouyang Chi and Bo Juncheng, on the other hand, looked troubled.

“What’s wrong with you two? Aren’t you glad we’re not in the same group?” Dugu Ling asked, puzzled.

Ouyang Chi glanced at him, then shook his head and lowered his voice. “That’s not it. Being in different groups is good, but that’s not our concern. You don’t know…your group is the ‘Death Group.’” Ouyang Chi looked at Dugu Ling, worry etched in his face.

“Death Group?” Dugu Ling echoed, confused.

“It’s not surprising you haven’t heard. While you were unconscious, ten of the strongest new students were selected this year. These ten are the most likely to advance to the Celestial Trial,” Bo Juncheng explained.

“And?” Dugu Ling was still oblivious to the storm brewing around him.

“Usually, the Hidden God Pavilion distributes the top contenders across different groups. But this time, all ten of the strongest—including you—have been placed in the same group!” Bo Juncheng enunciated each word, as if afraid Dugu Ling might miss any of it.

“What?” Dugu Ling exclaimed, unable to contain his shock. “How could this happen!” It had already been exceedingly difficult to break through to the Celestial Trial, but now it seemed nearly impossible. Yet, almost immediately, Dugu Ling felt a surge of strength rise inexplicably within him.

Dugu Ling had never been one to fear hardship; in fact, this only ignited his competitive spirit. Suddenly, he was eager to test his skills against these formidable opponents. Even if he lost, at least he would know the gap between himself and the others. And if he truly aspired to be the ultimate victor in the Celestial Trial, he would have to face these people sooner or later.

Better to face the storm now than later. Let it come with all its fury. Dugu Ling clenched his fists, his resolve firm.

Meanwhile, deep within the Hidden God Pavilion, in a secret chamber, a woman veiled and shrouded in black robes burst through the door. She was none other than the plump senior sister who had rescued Dugu Ling in Dugu Village.

“Lin Xiwen? What brings you here?” Sitting in the chamber was the Pavilion Master in red robes—the Passionate Sword Saint, Hu Linwei. The senior sister was, indeed, named Lin Xiwen.

“Master, I have a question. You entrusted my second senior brother with full authority over this year’s new student selection, but he placed all the strongest candidates in the same group. I feel this is quite unwise and a terrible waste of talent,” Lin Xiwen said, kneeling with her head bowed.

Master Hu pondered for a moment, then replied, “I understand. Do not concern yourself with this matter; I have my own plans.”

Lin Xiwen seemed to want to say more, but Hu Linwei waved her away. Realizing the matter was settled, she stood, bowed respectfully, and withdrew. As she left, Master Hu glanced at her with a peculiar look before resuming his composure.