Chapter 9: Wei Rong

"The Dawnfire Trials will now commence!"

The elder's voice boomed across the training grounds, silencing the murmurs of the gathered disciples. His sharp gaze swept across the participants, as if measuring their worth in an instant.

"Each of you will fight five opponents. To advance, you must win at least three matches. Those who suffer three or more defeats will be eliminated. Do not waste our time. Show us your strength."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Some disciples looked confident, others nervous. The format ensured that only the most consistent fighters would advance, leaving no room for lucky victories or easy opponents.

Xuan exhaled softly. This was it.

The training grounds stretched before him, divided into three arenas—one large central platform and two slightly smaller ones positioned at different elevations along the hillside. The sect had designed the grounds with the natural terrain in mind, making use of the uneven landscape. The towering cliffside behind the central stage cast a shadow over the highest arena, creating a dramatic backdrop.

Around eighty-five disciples stood ready. Seniors and other spectators watched from the surrounding terraces, eager to see who among the new blood would stand out.

From his vantage point, Xuan noticed a few figures standing apart, their robes marking them as elders and high-ranking inner disciples. They were the ones everyone wanted to impress, in hopes of being taken in as a disciple.

"The first set of matches will begin now!"

The sect elder raised his hand, and names began to be called in pairs.

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Xuan was not among the first set, so he remained at the sidelines, watching as the initial fights unfolded.

As the battles commenced, a pattern quickly became apparent—only those who had reached the Inner Essence Realm were truly capable of competing. While all the newcomers had trained for half a year, many of them had only barely stepped into the realm, their cultivation still unstable. Their use of martial skills was crude, their qi control weak.

But among the crowd, three names stood above the rest.

Li Zhi, Wei Rong, and Han Lan.

Unlike the others, these three had already broken past the unstable early stage and reached the middle stage of the Inner Essence Realm. Their movements were sharper, their qi control smoother, and their presence on the battlefield far more refined.

The Inner Essence Realm was divided into four stages: Early, Middle, Late, and Peak. Most of the competitors here were stuck in the unstable early stage, while those three had pushed ahead, putting them leagues above their peers.

Xuan, too, was still in the early stage. But unlike the rest, he had only been in the sect for two months—far less than the others, who had the full six months of training behind them. And even then, his cultivation realm had already stabilized and he was close to the middle stage.

Still, he wouldn't improve his cultivation realm before the fights, so he would have to fight with a disatvantage. But even then, he was confident he had a chance with the martial skills he had practiced along his divine ability.

As Xuan continued watching, soon a certain match caught his attention.

"Wei Rong versus Chen Mu!"

Both combatants stood on opposite sides of the stage, their hands empty.

Chen Mu was a fast, agile fighter, his stance light and ready to strike at a moment's notice. Wei Rong, on the other hand, stood firm—his body solid, his movements measured, radiating an unshakable presence.

It wasn't that they didn't want to use weapons. They weren't allowed to.

The Venomthread Sect forbade newcomers from using weapons until they had surpassed the Inner Essence Realm. The reasoning was clear—disciples needed to first build a solid foundation in martial arts before relying on external tools. More importantly, it prevented deadly injuries in these internal competitions.

At the elder's signal, the match began.

Chen Mu was the first to move. His body flickered as he dashed forward, his speed impressive. He weaved between movements, striking at Wei Rong's arms, ribs, and legs with sharp, precise blows.

But it was useless.

Every strike landed cleanly—yet Wei Rong didn't even flinch. Instead, his skin shimmered faintly, taking on a dull, iron-like hue.

Chen Mu's expression darkened. He pressed forward, launching a flurry of rapid attacks. Palm strikes, kicks, elbow jabs—every move executed with speed and precision. Yet no matter how many times he struck, the result was the same. Wei Rong barely reacted, standing firm like an immovable mountain.

A murmur spread through the watching disciples.

"He's barely taking any damage," someone muttered.

"Of course not," another whispered. "He's using Ironbear Skin."

Xuan's brows furrowed as he overheard. Ironbear Skin? He'd never heard of it before.

"It's a body-strengthening technique," the whispering disciple continued to his friend. "It's tough to cultivate, but once you get it to a high enough stage, it makes your skin as tough as metal. Wei Rong must have practiced it to a pretty decent level already."

Xuan's eyes flickered toward Wei Rong. That explained his ridiculous durability. No wonder he wasn't reacting to any of Chen Mu's attacks.

Just as Xuan processed the information, Wei Rong took a step forward.

Chen Mu, now visibly frustrated, rushed in once more, aiming for a heavy, decisive strike.

This time, Wei Rong moved.

His thick arm swung out like a hammer. Chen Mu, mid-strike, had no time to dodge.

Bang!

The impact sent Chen Mu flying across the stage, landing hard on the stone floor. He groaned, clutching his ribs as the elder stepped forward.

"Wei Rong wins."

While the crowd erupted into hushed discussions, Xuan crossed his arms, deep in thought.

Between the three strongest competitors, Wei Rong was the one he wanted to face the least. His sheer toughness was a problem—Frostbind Chains and Falconburst Kick were powerful, but they weren't the type of techniques that could deal overwhelming force in a single hit. Against someone with near-impenetrable skin, that was a serious issue.

Xuan exhaled slowly.

And then—

"Next match: Lin Xuan versus Zhao Min!"

Quickly Xuan stepped forward, making his way toward the arena.

At first, there was no reaction. Most disciples didn't recognize him—after all, he had arrived at the sect later than the others.

But then, someone spotted the emblem on his robe.

A Core Disciple insignia.

The reaction was instant.

"Wait… he's a Core Disciple?!"

"How? I've never even heard of him!"

"What is a Core Disciple doing in the trials?!"

Confusion rippled through the crowd as all eyes focused on him.

But Xuan ignored them.

With steady steps, he walked onto the stage.

His first official match was about to begin.