Chapter Thirty-Two: The Tide of the World

In the mortal realm, within a certain town.

This town sprawled over a vast area, grand in scale and thriving with prosperity. Countless buildings of every kind dotted the landscape, filling the town from end to end. The population was dense, and many travelers passed through. The streets bustled with crowds, shoulders brushing shoulders, and from dawn until dusk, the scene was lively and vibrant.

“This is Dragon Soar Town,” Yan Chen explained to Ye Zihan as they walked down the bustling street, observing the surrounding sights. “Legend has it that once, a demon beast fought humans here and, with overwhelming might, defeated all the town’s strongest fighters. Then it ascended as a dragon, soaring into the sky, and thus the town was named ‘Dragon Soar’.”

After learning that Ye Zihan had spent recent years cultivating deep within the mountains and knew little of the affairs of the world, Yan Chen assumed the role of guide with relish.

It had been seven days since their fierce battle with the Old Fiend. In that time, they had set their course for Ten Directions City and traveled unhurriedly along the way.

They laughed and talked throughout their journey, finding themselves kindred spirits. Though Yan Chen hailed from a prestigious clan, he was humble and modest, every gesture and word radiating scholarly elegance, entirely lacking the arrogance and imperiousness common among scions of noble houses—a quality that Ye Zihan admired.

A person must ultimately rely on themselves. To bully the weak and fear the strong under the shelter of one’s family, feigning power with borrowed authority, was the mark of the useless, doomed to mediocrity.

Together, the two spirited youths, both proud and fiery, inevitably engaged in friendly rivalry, each wishing for the other’s recognition through contest.

Thus, on the second day after their battle with the Old Fiend, once they had fully recovered, they exchanged only a few words before launching into a bout.

Yan Chen was a Shadow Dancer at the mid-tier Sancai level, descended from the hidden Yan clan and wielding formidable wind-based martial arts. His strength was not to be underestimated.

Ye Zihan, a Summoner and Shadow Dancer at the early Sancai level, possessed a true power that surpassed his apparent rank.

Their contest was fought with nearly their full strength. After a fierce struggle, they proved evenly matched—neither could best the other. Having agreed beforehand to stop short of real harm, the outcome remained unresolved.

What left Yan Chen speechless was that, though his own cultivation improved somewhat from the fight, Ye Zihan’s progress was monstrous—he broke through to the mid-tier Sancai level, leaving Yan Chen at a loss for words.

Now that Ye Zihan’s cultivation equaled his own, Yan Chen had little confidence he could defeat him, even giving his all.

For Ye Zihan, the breakthrough was a delight. In just three days, he had fought intense battles with Liu Xiong, the Black Mountain Fiend, and Yan Chen. The crucible of such high-intensity combat, followed by deep meditation, finally propelled him to the mid-tier Sancai level.

“How far are we from Ten Directions City?” Ye Zihan asked as they walked.

“Several hundred li remain,” Yan Chen replied. “At our pace, we’ll arrive in four or five days. That’ll give us time to rest and prepare for the Five Elements Gathering.”

Ye Zihan nodded, anticipation stirring in his heart. What kind of spectacle would the famed Five Elements Gathering be? Among his peers, where did he now stand? How much of the gap from his former setbacks had he closed in these four years?

“I’ve heard this year’s Five Elements Gathering will be livelier than ever,” Yan Chen said suddenly, clapping Ye Zihan on the shoulder with a hint of mischief.

“Oh? How so?” Ye Zihan asked.

“The Five Elements Gathering is a competition jointly held by the major factions. They set the rules and decide the champion’s rewards by agreement. Usually, aside from a few itinerant masters, the competitors are all outstanding talents from the various powers—the four sects, five families, and the hidden clans. But this year, a legendary force has joined the fray.” Here, Yan Chen paused, smiling mysteriously at Ye Zihan, clearly trying to pique his curiosity.

Ye Zihan, however, showed no interest. He kept walking, as if indifferent to whether Yan Chen revealed more.

Seeing his ploy fail, Yan Chen wilted like a withered eggplant and hurried to catch up. “At least pretend to be curious! The force I’m talking about is the Hall of Illusions.”

Ye Zihan’s steps halted abruptly. Shock rippled through his mind, a surge of agitation rising before gradually subsiding.

“Master?” Ye Zihan asked quietly, concern in his voice. Matters involving the Hall of Illusions could not but unsettle his two teachers.

“It’s nothing,” came Lan Yu’s voice, tinged with surprise. She had never imagined that the Hall of Illusions, long indifferent to worldly affairs, would meddle in the Five Elements Gathering.

“Zihan, find out more details,” Hong Yan urged, sensing something amiss.

Ye Zihan nodded inwardly, then asked Yan Chen, “What exactly happened?”

Noticing Ye Zihan’s sudden interest, Yan Chen was puzzled—hadn’t he just shown no curiosity at all? But he didn’t ask further; organizing his thoughts, he began to explain:

“The Hall of Illusions is famed for its mystery and strangeness. It has existed ever since the incident with the Five Illusions Art three thousand years ago—you must have heard of that.”

With Ye Zihan’s talent and age, Yan Chen was certain he wasn’t ordinary. Even if he didn’t belong to a major sect, he likely hailed from a good family. He would surely have heard of this, even if the events were ancient history.

Ye Zihan simply nodded.

“The organization is composed of the strongest beings from the Three Realms, tasked with protecting the Five Illusions Art and overseeing its inheritors. Since its founding, they’ve hidden away on an island, ignoring all worldly matters except those related to the Five Illusions Art, and never intervening in the affairs of the realms.

“But in the past three centuries, their behavior has grown strange. They left their island and entered the Three Realms. Our clan chief once sensed the aura of one among them—he believes they’re searching for something. They’ve even begun interfering with other powers, causing the continent’s balance of power to shift.

“This time, their involvement in the Five Elements Gathering is surely not simple. The Hall has three inheritors, nine elders, nine guardians, and nine envoys. But now, several disciples have unexpectedly appeared to compete—it’s truly bizarre.”

He paused, his expression growing grave. “Our clan chief allowed me to leave for two reasons: to gain experience at the Five Elements Gathering, and to investigate the Hall of Illusions’ movements.”

After Yan Chen finished, Ye Zihan’s brow furrowed deeply. He had little reason to doubt Yan Chen’s words. Though the Yan clan had withdrawn from the world, its legacy spanned nearly ten millennia. Its spies and informants were everywhere; their intelligence was highly reliable.

“Now, aside from the four sects, five families, and the three hidden clans, the mortal world may have to reckon with the even more enigmatic Hall of Illusions.”

“Master, what do you think?” Ye Zihan asked inwardly, ignoring Yan Chen for the moment.

“When you reach Ten Directions City and the Five Elements Gathering, capture one of the Hall’s contestants and find out the truth,” Hong Yan’s voice had grown cold.

“Understood,” Ye Zihan replied silently, then said aloud to Yan Chen, “Let’s hurry. The sooner we reach Ten Directions City, the better prepared we’ll be.”

Yan Chen looked at Ye Zihan, noticing the sudden urgency and feeling a trace of suspicion. He sensed, however faintly, that Ye Zihan might have some connection to the Hall of Illusions.

Nevertheless, he asked no more, merely nodded, and quickened his pace.

Two figures melted into the teeming crowd, slowly vanishing from sight.