Chapter 81: The Lost City of Vengeance

Only after the eliminated participants returned did everyone finally gain some understanding of the Chosen. On the whole, the Chosen brought many benefits to the major sects. Although the disciples of the Pure Yang Temple, with their numerical advantage, were highly likely to become the final recognized masters of the holy artifact, this did not mean the geniuses from the other sects later absorbed into the Chosen had no chance. It was worth noting that among these geniuses, not a few could rival Yun Jingzi; in this light, it was still uncertain who would ultimately prevail.

Yet there was one aspect that left the other sects quite disgruntled—the Chosen was simply too biased. Even if their own people managed to claim the holy artifact, the benefits reaped by the Pure Yang Temple would still be greater.

Imagine—several hundred more cultivators reaching the Nascent Soul stage in the future! The very thought sent chills down everyone's spines.

The seven demon sects, in particular, felt especially unsettled. After hundreds of thousands of years of friction, the righteous and demonic paths had finally reached a tenuous balance of power. If this generation of Pure Yang Temple disciples were to grow to their full potential, the balance would be disrupted again. With the temperament of Pure Yang Temple’s leadership, who could predict what they might do?

The other righteous sects harbored similar concerns. Especially after learning from their returning disciples that those within the Chosen ruins had progressed far more rapidly than those outside, the leaders of the Holy Land of Zhengyang and the City of Suppressing Immortals could not help but feel both resentful and disappointed.

The Holy Land of Zhengyang felt that the day they would reclaim their former glory had been postponed yet again, perhaps by many years. The City of Suppressing Immortals envisioned the loss of their title as the unrivaled martial power to the Pure Yang Temple, a prospect that left them deeply uneasy.

However, it was worth noting that the eight great righteous sects were allied in both offense and defense. The strengthening of an ally would, in the face of demonic threats, alleviate their own burdens. Though they might feel aggrieved, they would not openly voice their discontent.

With the powerful figures choosing to watch from the sidelines, those who sought to stir up trouble found themselves at a loss. Their aim had been to deepen the rift between the righteous and demonic paths, ideally sowing discord within each faction, so they could fish in troubled waters. But once the major figures ceased to act, further provocation lost its purpose, and so the troublemakers quietly withdrew.

As the great powers remained inactive and the instigators backed off, the cultivation world gradually quieted. The news emerging from the Chosen Ruins, full of allure, diverted much attention.

A holy artifact! How many years had it been since one last appeared?

Pure Yang Temple and the Path of Freedom wielded the Pure Yang Bell and the Book of Freedom, standing unshaken amid the chaos, becoming the mainstay of both righteous and demonic factions. The appearance of a new holy artifact would inevitably shift the balance of power in the Profound Heaven World, regardless of whose hands it ultimately fell into. Though things seemed to be settling down, unrest could still erupt at any moment.

Of course, such thoughts mostly occupied the minds of opportunists hoping to profit from a reshuffling of power.

Most, however, were more interested in the Chosen Ranking.

When the Chosen ended, the Chosen Ranking would transform into the Ranking of Heaven’s Prides—the first authoritative list of talents in the Profound Heaven World. Everyone was eager to see who would grace its ranks.

Naturally, many also wondered whether they themselves might one day ascend to such a prestigious list.

Young cultivators from minor sects, in particular, saw it as a chance to rise above their station and catch the eyes of great sects, escaping their arduous lives of cultivation.

Yet those who entertained such dreams were often the sort whose ambitions soared higher than their fates could bear. After all, how many true talents could slip through the comprehensive selection systems of the eight righteous sects and the seven demon sects?

This did little, however, to dampen interest in the Chosen Ranking.

Only, with the Chosen still ongoing and at least four or five years to go before its end, it was uncertain how long this fervor would last.

...

Within the Chosen Ruins, in a secret realm.

It had been over half a year since Jiang Yue and the others disappeared. The once thriving new city was now a shadow of itself. Only those disciples lacking sufficient strength remained, still absorbing the benefits gained from past missions, while among the strong, only the Lin brothers, Luo Heng, Jiang Yu, and a handful of others remained.

In these six months, although all the tasks posted on the Chosen Ranking had been taken, few had been completed. Many tasks appeared simple but proved tortuous in execution, with only a few lucky individuals managing to complete some personal tasks; not a single group mission had been accomplished.

Not only was the completion rate pitifully low, but the attrition rate was shockingly high. In just the first three months after entering the secret realm, nearly half of the Foundation Establishment cultivators had been eliminated, with over two thousand deaths.

The losses among the Golden Core experts were also astonishing—twenty-six dead and seventy eliminated—significantly weakening the city’s overall strength.

Fortunately, no direct threats targeting the city had appeared within the secret realm, unlike the outside world. However, unease pervaded the city, severely dampening everyone’s enthusiasm for undertaking missions—another key reason for the dismal completion rate.

A pervasive sense of despondency hung over the city.

In contrast to the days when Wang Li was present, when, despite inevitable losses, everyone pulled together and made swift progress on missions, now they faced obstacles at every turn.

Steward Wang was truly a good man! Pity he was no longer here.

On silent nights, many found themselves recalling Wang Li’s virtues.

Compared to the gloom of the City of Vengeance, the plight of Jiang Yue, Ling Xiao, and the other search party members trapped in the endless nightmare woven by the Nightmare Beast was even more miserable.

Less than a hundred miles from where Wang Li had vanished, in a secluded mountain hollow, more than a hundred disciples of Pure Yang Temple lay sleeping in a variety of strange postures. Their eyes were tightly shut, and from the changes in their facial expressions, one could tell whether their dreams were joyful or sorrowful.

The Nightmare Beast was a peculiar kind of ferocious beast, straddling the line between beast and demon. Though weak in strength, it possessed no physical form, making it mysterious indeed.

For cultivators, the Nightmare Beast was not wholly malevolent. Some sects even kept them, using their dream realms as trials of the heart for disciples.

Steadfast cultivators with firm Dao hearts could, by enduring the beast’s dreams, temper their souls and enhance their resilience. But for those of weaker will, the Nightmare Beast’s dreams, striking directly at the heart, could swiftly shatter their mental defenses. Such individuals, once ensnared in the nightmare, found it nearly impossible to awaken on their own—they could only escape with the help of others, or else become lost in dreams until death claimed them.

Though cultivators were generally stalwart of will, each bore their own weaknesses. The Nightmare Beast excelled at digging deep into these vulnerabilities, forcing them to repeatedly confront and experience their innermost fears.

Few could endure such relentless terror, as was the case for Jiang Yue, who now lay curled in a patch of grass.

Her face was ashen, lips trembling as if trying to speak but unable, with tears continuously streaming from the corners of her eyes...