Legend of the Divine Archer

Just a month ago, the city had been engulfed in tragedy, but now, it seemed the dark events had been pushed aside, buried beneath layers of excitement and anticipation for the tournament.

Yan Jin silently commended the city lord for his efforts in reforming the city's image. Despite the underlying tension that remained from the previous month's grim occurrences, the atmosphere was charged with energy. Security was particularly strict—guards patrolled every street, checkpoints were set up at key intersections, and officials scanned the crowds with a sharp eye.

It was clear that no one wanted a repeat of the chaos that had plagued the city.

Over five thousand participants had gathered from all over the region, each one vying for glory in the Iron-Blooded Tournament. The sheer number of competitors was staggering, and the diverse range of auras that permeated the city spoke of the power and skill present among them.

Yan Jin could feel the tension in the air, a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation as participants prepared to test their mettle in the trials to come.

As he made his way through the crowded streets, an organizer approached him with a haughty tone. "Do you want to register?" the man asked, looking Yan Jin up and down with thinly veiled condescension.

Without a word, Yan Jin reached into his robe and pulled out his entry token, holding it up for the organizer to see. The token gleamed in the sunlight, its intricate markings indicating his right to compete.

The organizer's demeanor immediately shifted. "Follow me, sir. We're about to begin," he said, his tone much more respectful now. He led Yan Jin through the streets and toward the massive stone arena where the first part of the trials would take place.

The arena was an imposing structure, carved from thick stone and reinforced with powerful enchantments. It stood like a fortress at the heart of Pine City, its towering walls casting long shadows across the ground below. Inside, the roar of the crowd could already be heard, a low murmur that reverberated through the air like the distant rumble of thunder.

Yan Jin was escorted into the arena along with the other participants. The atmosphere was tense as competitors filed in, each one sizing up their opponents, gauging the competition. Yan Jin took a seat in the corner, preferring to remain out of the spotlight for now. He kept his senses sharp, his aura restrained as he observed the crowd.

He could feel the presence of powerful individuals scattered throughout the arena, their auras like flickering beacons in the dark. Some were calm and controlled, their strength buried deep within, while others flared like wildfires, barely restrained by their bearers.

A small smile crept across Yan Jin's lips. It was going to be a fun experience. A giant lion flew above the arena in the midst of the noice.

As soon as the giant golden lion roared, the attention of every participant in the arena was seized. The majestic creature commanded the arena, its mane rippling like flames. Standing tall upon the lion's back was none other than Nie Li, the captain of the Golden Warriors. His armor gleamed in the sunlight, and his presence exuded raw authority.

The crowd fell silent as they watched him, their eyes wide with awe and anticipation.

Like clockwork, Purple Spear Meng appeared next, floating effortlessly on his spear. He hovered in the air like a deity, his presence powerful and imposing. Next to him was the City Lord, his regal bearing matched by the aura of authority that surrounded him. On the opposite side of the arena, the Meng and Fu patriarchs stood side by side, their expressions proud and their auras sharp.

Together, these four figures represented the pinnacle of power in Pine City, standing as pillars of strength and respect in the community. They basked in the adoration of the crowd, their presence a reminder of the heights to which one could ascend through dedication and power.

"Welcome to the Iron Blood Cell Trials," Nie Li's voice boomed through the arena, resonating with the authority of a seasoned warrior. "There are many of you here, but only three will earn the right to taste the Celestial Red Blood Cells." His words were a sharp reminder of the stakes involved. "Besides the red blood cells, there are other treasures to be found.

But before you can even dream of them, you must prove your worth by entering the portal."

As soon as the words left his mouth, the ground beneath the arena began to shift. The center of the arena turned into a swirling maelstrom, the stone beneath it crumbling away as if devoured by some unseen force. From the depths of this vortex, an ancient aura was released—a presence so overwhelming that it pressed down on every participant like a suffocating blanket of energy.

The air grew heavy, and the pressure mounted with each passing second.

"Can't endure the aura?" Nie Li's voice cut through the silence. "Don't bother going in. You will die." His tone was cold, unfeeling, as if death in the trials was nothing more than an inevitability for some.

Participants began to stagger, their faces etched with pain and doubt. Some buckled under the pressure, their knees giving out as they struggled to stay upright. One participant, a young man whose face was flushed and covered in sweat, muttered to himself through clenched teeth. "I don't think I can do this," he gasped.

His body trembled, and the crushing weight of the ancient aura bore down on him, driving him closer to the ground.

Around the arena, several others faltered as well, their faces paling as they fought to resist the overwhelming force. The aura wasn't just a test of strength—it was a measure of willpower, of one's ability to resist being crushed by the sheer force of ancient power. The weak were quickly being separated from the strong, and it was clear that only those with true potential would be able to continue.

Yan Jin remained still amid the growing turmoil, his senses hyper-focused on the swirling energy emanating from the portal. Around him, he could sense the auras of the more powerful participants holding steady as well. There were a few who had not buckled under the pressure, standing resolute in the face of the maelstrom.

The crowd murmured with anticipation as they watched the participants wrestle with the ancient aura. Those who could not withstand the pressure had already been eliminated, either retreating from the arena or collapsing where they stood.

A dark bony spear soared through the air and embedded itself in the ground before the swirling maelstrom, the crowd's attention shifted instantly. A hush fell over the spectators as they realized who had arrived. The air was thick with anticipation, and moments later, a long silver spear followed, glinting in the sunlight before it landed next to the dark weapon with a resonant thud.

Emerging from opposite sides of the arena, their presences demanded the attention of everyone present.

The first figure to step into the open was a young boy, barely into his teenage years, yet with the poise and confidence of someone much older. It was Wei Xi, the grandson of the City Lord, known for his extraordinary lineage as the heir to the Imperial Storm Wyvern bloodline.

Dressed in light plated armor that clung to his small but lithe frame, Wei Xi's helmet covered his head, leaving only his sharp, youthful eyes visible. His energy radiated an excitable intensity, and though he was young, the confidence in his posture was undeniable.

He exuded raw potential, a reminder to everyone present that bloodlines were more than just legacy—they were power waiting to be unleashed.

Following behind him, with a more deliberate and measured gait, came Yan Bai. His cold demeanor and composed aura immediately contrasted Wei Xi's youthful energy. Yan Bai was the grandson of the Yan Patriarch, a name that commanded reverence and respect throughout Pine City.

The grandson of one of the city's greatest forces, and the younger brother of Nie Li, the captain of the Golden Warriors, Yan Bai bore the weight of a different kind of expectation. He was the harbinger of the Imperial Ice Dragon bloodline, a force of nature that sent chills down the spines of even the most hardened warriors.

His silver spear glistened with an icy sheen, a representation of the cold precision with which he fought. His gaze swept across the arena, sharp and unyielding, as if he were already planning his next move, calculating the risks and rewards of every step he might take in the trials ahead.

Their arrival was met with an eruption of cheers from the crowd. Pine City was proud of these two warriors—one young and brimming with potential, the other cold and methodical, with a reputation already forged in combat. They were the city's greatest hopes, and the spectators were not shy about expressing their support.