In just a brief moment, a bloodied figure was expelled from the massive scroll high in the sky and plummeted downward. The divine-level expert regained consciousness mid-air, his face filled with terror and lingering fear. Soon, he noticed the countless eyes below fixed upon him, and with an awkward expression, he descended back to his original spot—defeated far too quickly, far too embarrassingly.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh…
The enormous scroll, stretching hundreds of millions of miles when unfurled, continued to expel severely wounded experts one after another as time passed. The number of expelled fighters grew, with some even reverting to their true forms—such as the colossal beastkin warriors, their monstrous bodies spanning tens of thousands of miles, or rare, exotic beings revealing their original shapes.
After all, certain techniques were far more potent in their natural forms. Blood of all colors—red, purple, green—rained down from the sky. Some of the expelled were torn apart before their bodies reformed.
As deities, so long as their divine hearts remained intact, they could survive!
“What’s it like inside? What’s happening in the scroll world?” Many divine-level experts crowded around those who had been expelled, eager for answers.
The expelled warrior, his bloodstains already vanished but his face still pale and unsettled, frowned at the inquiries. Unwilling to divulge much, he muttered, “You’ll find out when you go in.”
Dongbo Xueying observed the scene from all sides. None of the survivors were willing to share details—after all, everyone here was a competitor.
Gradually, the number of expelled figures dwindled, with only the occasional one appearing.
“Whoosh.” Another tall, silver-haired youth was ejected from the scroll world, tumbling downward before steadying himself mid-air, his brow furrowed.
“The first batch has concluded!” the cold voice of the Divine Court emissary echoed from the distant platform.
The last expelled figure—the silver-haired youth—finally allowed a faint smile to cross his lips. He had clearly been the final one to exit.
“Let me remind you again,” the emissary declared icily, “the ranking battle is determined by your achievements in slaying enemies, not by how long you linger in the scroll world. Staying longer does not improve your standing. For example, the last one expelled from the first batch ranks below two hundred within his own group alone. Next batch!”
The silver-haired youth froze, his face flushing crimson with humiliation. Furious but not daring to vent at the emissary, he descended in silence.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh…
The emissary’s vast power enveloped another thousand divine-level experts, dragging them helplessly into the sky like stones cast into a lake, vanishing into the colossal scroll above.
“Out of the first thousand in the initial batch, only three hundred and ninety-five survived?” Dongbo Xueying, who had been closely watching, quickly tallied the numbers. “What of the remaining six hundred and five? Did they all perish inside?”
“This is just the first round of the prefecture city battle—the ranking battle.”
Dongbo Xueying shook his head inwardly. The mortality rate was far too high.
“Ahhh!”
A piercing scream echoed through the sky as a shattered body was expelled, blood spraying everywhere before reforming mid-air into a disheveled, thin youth in gray robes. He glanced around sheepishly before flying back to his spot.
The second batch had begun to be expelled as well.
One severely wounded figure after another was cast out.
“Boom—” A massive two-headed monster appeared in the sky before swiftly reshaping into human form and descending.
Most of the expelled were gravely injured—clearly, none had given up easily. Having passed the starfield preliminaries, each carried their own pride.
Batch after batch…
Ten batches had entered in the blink of an eye, yet none of the sixteen divine experts from Wushan Starfield had been chosen.
“The tenth batch is complete. Ten thousand divine experts have entered so far,” the emissary atop the platform announced coldly, scanning the crowd below. “So many overestimate themselves! Even after sensing danger and sustaining injuries, they stubbornly push forward, hoping to slay more foes. But the enemy’s strength may suddenly surpass their limits, leaving them no chance to even surrender—resulting in death. Next batch!”
Whoosh.
The eleventh batch was seized and hurled skyward.
“Hmm?” Dongbo Xueying noticed that this time, members of Wushan Starfield were among those pulled in—though only seven, including the red-haired man radiating intense killing intent.
Gradually, the expelled began to appear.
The red-haired man was among them, grievously wounded but instantly healing mid-air.
Upon landing, he lifted his cold gaze to the massive scroll above, watching as others were expelled one by one.
Finally—
The twelfth batch’s turn arrived. The emissary’s gaze swept over Wushan Starfield’s contingent. As the overseer of the prefecture battle, he possessed detailed intelligence on the most dazzling participants and those with significant backgrounds. He deliberately dispersed them across batches for closer observation.
“Whoosh.”
An invisible force enveloped Dongbo Xueying.
“Me?” He felt himself lifted abruptly, soaring toward the colossal scroll. As he neared, he spotted the familiar figure of His Highness the Seventh Plum Rain among the others flying alongside him.
Thud.
Along with the rest, he collided with the scroll and vanished inside.
…
“Brother Moxue, your daughter has entered,” Lord An Hai remarked, his gaze piercing effortlessly through the scroll’s barrier to observe the thousand divine experts within—including the Seventh Plum Rain.
“Brother Long, take a good look at how my youngest daughter fares,” Moxue the Imperial Lord chuckled, stroking his snow-white beard proudly as he too watched the events unfold inside.
“This batch is interesting,” the yellow-robed Venomous Ying, a female World God, giggled from below. “We have Moxue’s daughter, the inner disciple of the mighty Yuan Ya—Zang Xiao—and that little fellow Dongbo whom Brother Baisha favors. Shall we place a wager on who will shine brightest?”
“Dongbo!” Baisha the City Lord declared, stroking his upturned mustache as he eyed the others.
“His Highness the Seventh Plum Rain,” the silver-armored Qin, a Military Lord, said casually, sipping from her cup.
“Then I’ll wager on this ‘Zang Xiao.’ Rising from obscurity to become a mighty one’s inner disciple speaks volumes of his comprehension,” the handsome Moyun added.
Venomous Ying turned eagerly. “Brother Ronghai, what say you?”
Ronghai the King laughed heartily. “Following Brother Moyun is never wrong. I too choose Zang Xiao. Sister Venomous Ying, you haven’t picked yet!”
“As a woman, naturally I side with His Highness the Seventh Plum Rain,” she replied.
“I’ll join the wager,” Moxue the Imperial Lord boomed from above. “I choose my daughter. If I lose, each of you shall receive a flask of ‘Bamboo Flame Snow Nectar.'”
“Then I too shall wager,” Lord An Hai said. “I choose Zang Xiao. I know his strength—it is remarkable. If I lose, the winners shall each receive an ‘An Hai Spirit Pearl.'”
“Bamboo Flame Snow Nectar—a specialty of the Moxue Empire! And An Hai Spirit Pearls… Even as the overseer, I cannot resist. I too bet on Zang Xiao,” the Divine Court emissary chimed in.
Venomous Ying clapped her hands. “Eight of us in total—four for Zang Xiao, three for His Highness the Seventh Plum Rain… Oh dear! Brother Baisha, you’re the only one backing your ‘Dongbo.'”
Baisha the City Lord glared. “The Lord and the Imperial Lord have staked their treasures. What of the rest of you? Hurry, ante up!”
Though he blustered, inwardly Baisha fretted: “Brother Dongbo, you must prove me right.”
Having long voiced his support for Dongbo, he had no choice but to stand by him now—for the sake of pride.
Yet deep down…
Baisha believed Dongbo Xueying had the potential to rank within the top hundred. But against Zang Xiao and the Seventh Plum Rain? He harbored doubts. Zang Xiao had been personally guided by a mighty one, while the Seventh Plum Rain had her father’s meticulous tutelage. Though Moxue the Imperial Lord might not match a mighty one in attainment, he would spare no effort for his daughter.
But even without confidence, pride demanded he hold his ground.
Baisha lifted his gaze to the scroll. The overseer did not obstruct the platform’s elite spectators. His vision pierced the scroll’s barrier, settling on a remote stretch of beach where Dongbo Xueying stood alone.
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