Chapter 56: The End

Boom!

Just as Lin Zhengren pressed close to Zhang Linchuan, preparing to unleash his Taoist arts.

Zhang Linchuan exploded.

This was not a hyperbolic metaphor, but an objective description.

Lightning, which had been accumulating within him for an unknown amount of time, erupted from his body.

His hair stood on end, his skin was charred in places, and sparks of electricity flickered across him.

In response, Lin Zhengren, who was practically pressed against him, was caught in the blast immediately and sent flying. Even after hitting the ground, his body continued to twitch convulsively.

This was the first time Lin Zhengren had looked so disheveled since entering the battle.

The cause of this effect was a high-grade B-rank Taoist art: Lightning Strike.

However, to everyone's surprise, the target of Zhang Linchuan's attack was himself, not Lin Zhengren.

When Lin Zhengren interrupted his A-rank Taoist art, Zhang Linchuan made no attempt to maintain it. Instead, he immediately triggered the instant-cast Taoist art inscribed within the Heaven-Reaching Palace and directed it straight at himself.

This was undoubtedly a risky, even arguably insane, move. Had Lin Zhengren not chosen to close the distance for a melee attack immediately—or had he been even slightly slower—Zhang Linchuan might have become the only cultivator in this Three-City Dao Debate to lose to his own Taoist art.

He would have become the laughingstock of the entire venue.

Fortunately, he had gambled successfully, carving out a nearly microscopic chance of victory for himself.

The Lightning Strike had wounded both parties, but Lin Zhengren was only newly at the Sixth Rank, and his various attributes had not yet reached their peak. Zhang Linchuan, having practiced lightning arts for a long time, managed to recover a few breaths of time ahead of schedule.

Zhang Linchuan's hands moved like flying as he prepared to seize this fleeting moment to finish off his opponent.

But suddenly, his expression froze.

He realized that the Heaven-Reaching Palace was empty!

This Taoist art could not be completed.

Only then did he notice that, about five paces in front of him, a translucent little blade of grass was swaying in the wind.

He recognized it: it was the Essence-Drawing Grass, a low-grade C-rank Taoist art.

Its effect: Within the range of the Essence-Drawing Grass, the consumption of Dao Essence is increased.

Its drawback: It does not distinguish between friend and foe.

However, Lin Zhengren had already opened the Heaven and Earth Gate, allowing him to be constantly replenished by the essence of heaven and earth. Zhang Linchuan, still standing before the gate, could only rely on the Dao Essence reserves within his Heaven-Reaching Palace.

One, two, three... As Zhang Linchuan counted, his face grew increasingly grim. Without his knowledge, Lin Zhengren had planted exactly nine Essence-Drawing Grasses throughout the battlefield. It could be said that had the Lightning Strike not interrupted him, he would have planted even more.

Even while holding a massive advantage, even when victory seemed within grasp, Lin Zhengren had still laid such a trap.

What a steady, what a cautious fellow!

Under the guidance of the nine Essence-Drawing Grasses, Zhang Linchuan's Dao Essence was completely exhausted.

The chance for victory flashed and vanished.

Lin Zhengren recovered and leaped into the air.

"I lost," Zhang Linchuan said, his voice hoarse.

He no longer had any grounds for victory, so he naturally would not give Lin Zhengren the chance to further torment him.

Fenglin City had missed the chance for a three-year consecutive championship and had lost the most important prize: a spot in the National Academy.

But no one present blamed Zhang Linchuan.

To throw a Lightning Strike at oneself—what a brutal act.

Moreover, for someone who cared so deeply about his image and poise, looking at his charred, blackened state now, who could say he hadn't given his all?

Even Dong A said nothing. He could not claim that his disciple had not tried his hardest.

In truth, Zhang Linchuan had not been without opportunity just now. If he had been willing to collapse a Dao Vortex, he could have temporarily obtained a massive amount of Dao Essence, allowing him to seize that opening and defeat Lin Zhengren.

But if he had done that, even if he won the battle, his cultivation would have regressed to the Eighth Rank, and he would be stuck there for the rest of his life.

What would be the point of entering the National Academy then?

While the honor of the Fenglin City Dao Academy was important, he could not gamble his entire future on it.

The referee announced the result.

The champion of the five-year Three-City Dao Debate was Lin Zhengren, a Sixth Rank Dragon-Ascending Realm cultivator from the Wangjiang City Dao Academy.

Next year, he would be a freshman at the National Academy, with a future as bright as the sun.

Fenglin City had secured two secondary championships, which was enough to maintain its prestige.

Only the Sanshan City Dao Academy had come away empty-handed in this debate.

Seeing this, Zhao Tiehe, Yang Xingyong, and others had eyes turning red with envy.

But such was competition.

***

At the Three-Part Fragrance Pavilion.

Lady Miaoyu was facing a mirror, using her pinky finger to gently apply rouge.

Behind her, an old man in black was kneeling and pleading: "Holy Maiden, I beg you to act! Otherwise, all our people will die!"

"I told you early on not to be greedy. The moment you heard about the Nether Candle, you lost your souls. Now that you beg me to act, what use is it? The phantom of the Ghost Gate has been sent to the Cloud Kingdom; how am I supposed to fight Wei Quji?"

"We were old and foolish, but the Bone Messenger also agreed..."

"Heh." Miaoyu smiled. "Then ask him to act."

The old man in black was momentarily speechless, only able to continue kowtowing.

"The moment I reveal myself, Wei Quji will immediately move to suppress and kill me. Not to mention Dong A is watching like a hawk. We have no chance." Her voice was a mix of coquetry and resentment. "Who told you all not to leave the Ghost Gate phantom to me back then?"

The old man in black gritted his teeth. "It was not easy for our Bone Path to accumulate strength. Are so many fellow Daoists just going to die in vain?"

"Enough, enough. Don't argue with me. I have already set my contingency plans. Judging by the timing, the Nether Candle should have been sent out safely. As for those fellow Daoists..."

Miaoyu paused and closed her rouge box.

"If they die, they die."

***

Because the defenses were tight and the deployment was efficient, the chaos in Fenglin City rose and subsided abruptly.

Ultimately, the news of the Nether Candle's appearance was too sudden; the Bone Path had no time to make more secure preparations before being forced to make a choice.

The significance of the Nether Candle to the Bone Path made it impossible for them to refuse. Meanwhile, Wei Quji and Dong A had already laid a massive net.

The outcome had been decided before it even began; not a single person sent by the Bone Path this time would survive.

But that did not mean the battle was a loss, because the Bone Path had, in fact, prepared for total annihilation. As long as they successfully secured the Nether Candle, it would not count as a defeat for them.

***

On Qingmu Avenue, a peddler with a shoulder pole was still walking slowly.

He was very familiar with this city, as if he had been born here. He had anticipated that Wei Quji would set an ambush; he just hadn't expected the offensive to be so fierce and the preparations so thorough.

He knew that the fellow Daoists who came this time were likely doomed. But he would not die.

Despite the suddenness of the event, he knew this city well; he knew where the main forces of the City Guard would be if they deployed at full strength.

He could avoid them with ease.

There was a small path to the left ahead that passed by a bathhouse.

He planned to take a bath to wash off the dust of travel. He could leave his goods with the bath attendant; Master Song was an honest man and wouldn't touch his things.

Who would have thought that such a precious Nether Candle would be casually left with an ordinary bath attendant?

He could even take a nap in the bathhouse and wait for the storm to pass before swaggering out of the city.

In short, he would not die.

However, he saw a bald man just as he was stepping into that small path.

Perhaps he was from a Buddhist sect? But this bald man's features were too fierce, completely clashing with the image of a Buddhist practitioner.

"I smell a strange scent," the bald man said. He even licked his lips.

The peddler suddenly felt an intense surge of terror. He gathered his Dao Essence, preparing to fight.

At that moment, he realized his heart was gone.

The entire world plunged into eternal darkness.

"Holy Maiden, is that the scenery at the bottom of the River of Forgetfulness?" he thought in his final moment.