The fourth day of the tournament arrived with an electric atmosphere.

  The arena was packed to capacity—over two hundred thousand spectators, plus millions more watching through broadcast formations throughout the continent. This was the most anticipated finals in tournament history.

  Lin Feng arrived to find his usual section completely full. After some searching, he found a seat even further back, in the highest tier of the general admission area.

  "This is fine," he told himself. "I can still see the stage from here."

  What he didn't realize was that his "settling for a worse seat" had placed him directly next to a group of mortal merchants who had saved for years to afford these tickets. The moment he sat down, their chronic aches vanished, their minds felt clearer, and one elderly merchant's failing eyesight suddenly sharpened.

  They attributed it to excitement for the matches, not realizing they were sitting next to the source of their sudden vitality.

  [Finals Day!]

  [Host's disciples will now demonstrate the true results of your teaching!]

  [Warning: Their performance may cause significant attention]

  [Recommendation: Maintain concealment and prepare for increased fame]

  The first final: Zhou Yuan versus Feng Chen.

  When the two young men took the central stage, the arena fell silent. This was the match everyone wanted to see—the Sect Master's personal disciple versus the mysterious Unfathomable Master's student.

  Feng Chen's expression was serious but confident. He'd watched Zhou Yuan's previous matches carefully and believed he understood his opponent's techniques. More importantly, Sect Master Tianlong had given him personal guidance last night.

  Zhou Yuan's face was calm, almost peaceful. He'd meditated all morning, following Master's advice: "Before any important match, clear your mind. The sword should flow from emptiness, not anxiety."

  The referee, a Immortal Ascension realm elder, carefully checked the protective formations. These two had displayed such power in previous matches that extra precautions were necessary.

  "Contestants ready?" the referee called. Both nodded. "Begin!"

  Feng Chen moved first, displaying the Heaven-Splitting Sword Art, the signature technique of the Heavenly Dao Sect. His sword blazed with golden light, each strike containing the weight of heavenly authority.

  It was magnificent. Even observers in the VIP section nodded appreciatively—Feng Chen was demonstrating why he was considered the sect's brightest talent in a thousand years.

  Zhou Yuan parried each strike with minimal movement, his Primordial Dao Sword humming softly. He was observing, learning, understanding his opponent's rhythm.

  Master always said the best defense is awareness, Zhou Yuan thought. Understand your opponent, and the path to victory becomes clear.

  Feng Chen increased his tempo, unleashing combination techniques that had defeated countless opponents. The stage cracked under the pressure of their clash. The protective formations blazed brilliantly.

  Then Zhou Yuan saw it—a tiny gap in Feng Chen's technique, a momentary overextension. Master had taught him to recognize such openings: "Every movement creates vulnerability. A wise swordsman strikes not at strength, but at the space between strengths."

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  Zhou Yuan's counter was so fast it seemed to teleport. His sword tapped Feng Chen's blade at precisely the right angle, with exactly the right force.

  Feng Chen's supreme-grade sword flew from his hand, spinning through the air to embed itself in the stage floor twenty feet away.

  Zhou Yuan's sword stopped at Feng Chen's throat.

  "Winner: Zhou Yuan of Azure Sky Sect!"

  The arena exploded with noise. In the VIP section, Sect Master Tianlong stood, his face showing not anger, but awe.

  "That precision," he murmured. "That understanding of leverage and timing... it's beyond mastery. It's perfection."

  Feng Chen, recovering from his shock, bowed deeply to Zhou Yuan. "Your master's teachings are profound beyond words. I am honored to have faced you. Would you... would you tell me about him?"

  Zhou Yuan helped Feng Chen to his feet. "Master would say he's just an ordinary cultivator who tries his best. But to those who learn from him, he's everything. He teaches not just techniques, but how to understand the world."

  "I would like to meet him someday," Feng Chen said sincerely.

  "Perhaps you will. Master is kind to those who seek genuine understanding."

  In the highest tier of general admission, Lin Feng was jumping up and down with excitement.

  "Yes! Zhou Yuan, well done!" He turned to the elderly merchant next to him. "That's my disciple! Did you see that technique? I taught him that!"

  The merchant smiled warmly at the enthusiastic young man. "You must be a good teacher. Your student is incredible!"

  "Oh, I'm not that great," Lin Feng said modestly. "I'm just Foundation Establishment. They're talented on their own—I just provide some guidance."

  The merchant patted his shoulder kindly, thinking: This young teacher is so humble. No wonder his disciple performs so well.

  After a short intermission, the second final began: Shen Yue versus Chen Ming, a Sword Saints Sect disciple who had barely defeated his semifinal opponent.

  It was immediately clear this would not be competitive.

  Chen Ming was strong—Soul Formation early stage, with excellent sword fundamentals. In any other tournament, he might have been a champion.

  But he was facing Shen Yue, who had been personally taught by the Unfathomable Master for nearly two years.

  The match lasted thirty seconds.

  Shen Yue used a single technique—Three Blossoms Sword Dance, something Master had demonstrated while arranging flowers one day. Each movement was both a sword strike and an expression of natural harmony.

  Chen Ming's sword techniques simply... stopped working. Not blocked, not overpowered—they ceased to function, as if the universe itself refused to acknowledge them in Shen Yue's presence.

  He stood frozen in confusion as Shen Yue's sword stopped at his heart.

  "Winner: Shen Yue of Azure Sky Sect!"

  The announcement was almost anticlimactic. The audience was still processing what they'd witnessed.

  In the VIP section, the Sword Saints Sect Master buried his face in his hands. "How can we compete with teaching of that level?" he muttered. "My disciple trained for twenty-five years. She trained for less than two. And the gap between them is... insurmountable."

  The tournament organizers announced a two-hour break before the championship match, giving the audience time to eat and the contestants time to prepare.

  During the break, something unprecedented happened.

  Over fifty sect masters and elders from various organizations approached the Azure Sky Sect Master, all asking variations of the same question:

  "Can you arrange a meeting with the Unfathomable Master?"

  "Would he consider taking disciples from our sect?"

  "What would it cost to invite him to lecture at our sect?"

  The Azure Sky Sect Master, overwhelmed, finally held up his hands. "Everyone, please! Senior Lin Feng values his privacy above all else. I cannot—and will not—disturb him without his permission. If he wishes to make connections with your sects, he will do so in his own time."

  "But surely for the right compensation—"

  "There is no compensation valuable enough to disrespect a supreme expert's wishes," the Azure Sky Sect Master said firmly. "I suggest you all focus on improving your own teaching methods rather than seeking shortcuts."

  The rebuked sect masters retreated, grumbling but understanding the logic. You did not anger a supreme expert by harassing his neighbors.

  Meanwhile, Shen Yue and Zhou Yuan met privately in a meditation chamber.

  "Are you ready for this?" Shen Yue asked.

  "As ready as I'll ever be," Zhou Yuan replied. "You?"

  "Nervous. Excited. Grateful." Shen Yue smiled. "Whatever happens, I'm glad it's you I'm facing in the championship. Master taught us both. Let's show everyone what that means."

  "Agreed. No holding back?"

  "No holding back."

  They clasped hands briefly, then separated to complete their preparations.

  As the break ended and the crowd returned to their seats, anticipation had reached a fever pitch. Betting houses had closed their boards—too many variables, too many unknowns.

  This would be the match that determined not just a tournament champion, but the future landscape of the cultivation world's younger generation.

  And somewhere in the highest seats, munching on roasted chestnuts, completely unaware of the political earthquakes his teaching had caused, Lin Feng waited excitedly for his two beloved disciples to demonstrate everything they'd learned.