Excellent Seedling

Excellent Seedling...

The visage of Leng Mao, the disciplinary elder of the Leng Clan, drained of color, his fist clenched in furious vexation.

Such a hefty toll they had paid, bowing to Yan Tie's audacious demands, and what did they have to show for it? Absolutely nothing.

Yan Tie had met his end.

Trading away Leng Ning, essentially offering her up as a sacrificial pawn for a handful of 'illusory' slots, they not only irked Qin Wentian but now, he had trounced and slain Yan Tie in a battle of Divine Inscriptions. What did that label them as? Mere jesters, it seemed.

"Bravo," a voice resonated from the direction of the Leng Clan. The one who spoke was none other than Leng Ning's father. As he witnessed Qin Wentian's annihilation of Yan Tie, a profound sense of satisfaction washed over him. After his daughter's tragic fate, something within him fractured irreparably. It was a wake-up call that exposed his own shortcomings as a father. Regrettably, redemption was now beyond his grasp. Amidst his heart's turbulence, nothing remained but a simmering resentment toward the members of the Leng Clan.

Leng Mao's gaze icily intersected with Leng Ning's father, even as Leng Jian barked, "Shut your mouth!"

"You want me silenced?" Leng Ning's father laughed mirthlessly. "Let's reminisce about the past. Who was it that sanctioned my daughter's coercion into a fatal end? Who opted to forsake Qin Wentian to curry favor with Yan Tie? What outcome have we secured? With Yan Tie's demise, it's Qin Wentian who wielded the potential to grant us the extra slots. WHO SHALL BEAR THE WEIGHT OF THIS DISASTROUS DECISION?"

Leng Jian stood stock-still, sensing the biting glares of the elders. Leng Ning's father's words held an undeniable truth—they had paid an exorbitant price, sacrificing much and yet reaping naught. Who would shoulder the burden of this catastrophic choice?

Leng Mao's position as an elder afforded him immunity, but what of Leng Jian?

Amid the charged atmosphere, every eye was fixed upon Qin Wentian. His countenance, still gripped by an unyielding chill, remained locked on the Yan Clan, his gaze unflinchingly meeting Yan Kong's.

"Next in line," Qin Wentian's extended finger targeted Yan Kong, who instantly experienced an icy vice grip ensnaring his entire being. The weight of Qin Wentian's words bore an air of impending doom.

Recalling the two prior incidents where Qin Wentian's ominous presence had already cast a shadow over him, Yan Kong quivered in terror. The gut-wrenching fear he now felt surpassed even the dread instilled by Yan Tie.

In that moment, he confronted the essence of true terror.

"HE KILLED UNCLE, KILL HIM NOW, SOMEONE, PLEASE END HIS LIFE!" Yan Kong's body quaked uncontrollably as his wild gaze swept across his clan members. However, he met only a sea of indifferent stares, their eyes betraying not a hint of concern.

"The instigator of this debacle stands before us," an elder glowered at him in ire. Word had circulated that initially, the conflict between Yan Kong and Qin Wentian had escalated to the point where Yan Kong enlisted Hades to aid in the assassination of Qin Wentian—an action that ultimately led to Yan Tie's son's death. Fueled by unbridled rage, Yan Tie coerced Leng Ning into her own demise, planting the seed of vengeance and elevating the conflict to its current level.

Initially, such matters hadn't provoked much thought. Yet, now that Yan Tie lay dead, the Yan Clan's disqualification from the secret realm loomed large, casting aside potential benefits they could have reaped.

All these troubles could be traced back to Yan Kong.

"Starting today, Yan Kong shall be forever estranged from the Yan Clan. His fate holds no sway over us," the elder declared in a frigid tone, sending Yan Kong's heart into a maddening frenzy. Had he heard correctly?

The Yan Clan was banishing him?

But... why?

Stripped of the Yan Clan's shelter, his life was marked by impending demise.

"Father," Yan Kong wailed, eyes reddening. Yet, the elder behind the decree only issued a contemptuous snort, appending, "And if you dare intervene, you'll share his fate, cast aside from the clan as well."

Yan Kong's father went pale. He discerned that Yan Clan decisions bore a pragmatic calculus, weighing their choices meticulously with costs and gains meticulously measured.

With Yan Tie's demise, seeking vengeance held no promise. Taking Qin Wentian's life now would merely invite an additional foe – the White Deer Institute. The prospects for gain were bleak.

So what course lay before them?

They resolved to sever Yan Kong from the clan, a clear demarcation aimed at insulating the entire Yan lineage from the whirlwind of Qin Wentian's vendetta. With Yan Kong's intelligence, he surely grasped the Yan Clan's strategic retreat, an attempt to quell turmoil by offering up his own head as a peace offering.

"Father," Yan Kong pleaded again, casting desperate eyes on his silent parent.

Their past had witnessed the Yan Clan forcing the Leng Clan to sacrifice Leng Ning, a deed now inviting its own retribution. Was Yan Kong's clan now abandoning him to appease fate's balance?

"Yan Kong," a chilling voice sliced through, resonating with a lethal intent that distorted the air around them.

"I granted you numerous opportunities for survival, all in vain. May you prove wiser in your next life." Qin Wentian's finger flicked, and Yan Kong abruptly felt an overwhelming sword intent lock onto him. Before he could react, sword beams radiated from Qin Wentian's gesture, impaling him where he stood.

In death, Yan Kong's eyes remained wide with disbelief and reluctance. Mere steps away from his kin, he passed with no assistance forthcoming from his family's ranks.

"Let's depart," a Yan Clan elder signaled, ushering their members as they retreated, shrouded by an air of uncertainty.

Observing Yan Kong's father's involuntary tremor at his son's death, Qin Wentian comprehended the situation fully. Though Yan Kong's father ardently wished his demise, the Yan Clan had unequivocally forbidden any action that would imperil their interests.

This was the reward reaped for showcasing his true talents and capabilities.

The Yan Clan's actions swelled uncertainty in the hearts of the Leng Clan. Once the Yan Clan exited the scene, the Leng Clan grappled with their next move.

Qin Wentian's grievance against the Leng Clan stood no weaker than his enmity for the Yan Clan. They, after all, were responsible for compelling Leng Ning to her fatal end.

Qin Wentian's form flickered as he returned to his original spot. Throughout his confrontation with Yan Tie and Yan Kong, both the Li Clan's trio and the enigmatic youth from the Demon Cult had stood as silent witnesses. They'd firsthand observed the might within Qin Wentian's moves, feeling the surge of power his Inscription contained. Their strategy had been simple: let Qin Wentian expend his energy battling Yan Tie.

However, a faint unease now gnawed at the hearts of the three brothers and the youth. Qin Wentian's domination in the third test, coupled with his exceptional perception displayed in the first, spurred their doubts. Had he already claimed the top spot in Grandmaster Fenrir's estimation?

Moreover, the White Deer Institute's representative team wasn't just about Qin Wentian. Ghaus and Bailu Yi were also part of it. Even the weakest, Bailu Yi, couldn't be disregarded. While their internal conflicts were evident, they hadn't dampened their collective power. If Qin Wentian and Ghaus had cooperated from the outset, victory would have been inevitable.

"Truly potent, you're far superior to that old man Ghaus. He does nothing but talk a big game," remarked Old First, his eyes fixed on Qin Wentian with a mixture of awe and respect. To be such a young peak-tier third-ranked Divine Inscriptionist, bursting with capability and an uncanny perception.

Ghaus's face turned ashen, hearing these words. Yet, he had already come to realize his inferiority the moment he witnessed Qin Wentian's Inscription during their battle. His boastfulness had gotten the best of him.

"Elders, I await your guidance," Qin Wentian declared, moving towards the trio. The icy veneer that had shrouded him after Yan Tie and Yan Kong's death now dissipated. His next goal was clear: secure the top position for the White Deer Institute.

"Haha, no need for such formalities. 'Uncles' will suffice. Our level of insight doesn't warrant being called 'elders.' Come, let's spar together. Through this, we might better comprehend the intricacies of the Divine Inscription Path." Old First's mood visibly lifted as Qin Wentian addressed them as uncles.

Naturally, this newfound politeness was a direct result of Qin Wentian's awe-inspiring display of talent. The true strength he possessed spoke louder than any words.

With a slight nod, Qin Wentian advanced. The vortex of menacing sword Qi spun anew, releasing tens of thousands of razor-sharp blades into the air. Simultaneously, the three brothers ascended, the three-headed flood dragon soaring forward with explosive velocity, directly colliding with the sea of blades.

Ferocious combat erupted, the myriad swords clashing fiercely against the three-headed flood dragon. The echoes of draconic roars and sword whistles reverberated through the void. Qin Wentian marched onward, every step he took shaping the trajectory of the swords with his fingers. He stood at the center, the sword light intensifying as he infused them with boundless force.

Then, with a resounding, earth-shaking roar, one of the flood dragon's heads was skewered by Qin Wentian's sword vortex.

"Haha, splendid. We yield," Old First heartily declared. Waving his hand, Qin Wentian dissipated the sword Qi, offering a bow and a smile. "Uncle Li, your Divine Inscription prowess is truly remarkable. I merely managed to secure a narrow victory."

"Your modesty is charming. Considering it was three against one, combined with the wisdom of age and experience, it's safe to say that in a few short years, we'd scarcely qualify as your apprentices," Old First shrugged playfully. "If you're willing, you can regard my brothers and me as friends. We'll surely rely on you for sparring, furthering our understanding of Divine Inscriptions."

A smile graced Qin Wentian's lips.

The three brothers redirected their attention toward the youth from the Demon Cult. "Young one, care to test your Divine Inscription might against us?"

"Of course." The youth agreed promptly. Instantly, a dense wave of demonic Qi enveloped the youth's serpent, which lunged forward, colliding with the now two-headed flood dragon. But despite the flood dragon's weakened state, the serpent proved no match.

Qin Wentian had taken down Yan Tie, then triumphed over the three brothers, while the trio emerged victorious against the youth from the Demon Cult. The ranks seemed already settled.

"Truly, every twist brings new surprises. How intriguing," chuckled the large-eyed elder. He'd assumed that after Ghaus's defeat, White Deer Institute's hopes for first place were dashed. What a delightful twist.

"Promising talent," another elder concurred, prompting both of them to glance at Grandmaster Fenrir in astonishment.

Fenrir's lips curled into a knowing smile. "The exchange concludes. White Deer Institute claims first, Watermoon Mountain Villa takes second, and the Demon Cult is third."

Fenrir's announcement matched expectations, evoking a spectrum of emotions from the crowd—disappointment, shock, and joy.

Bailu Yi radiated elation. The first rank was theirs thanks to Qin Wentian. How could she not be thrilled?

The expression on Ghaus's face couldn't be uglier. He'd warned Qin Wentian that a reckoning awaited them post-exchange. But did he possess the courage to remain now?

"Haha, Ghaus, the lass was spot on. What exactly did you contribute here? Dead weight, I ask you, what value do you possess?" Old First erupted in laughter, his words dripping with sarcasm, each one like a dagger plunging into Ghaus's heart. The very same phrase Ghaus had condescendingly thrown at Qin Wentian had boomeranged back to strike him in the face.