"But it's probably too late now, isn't it? Ugh, we miscalculated..." Yu Bing said with a frown. They should have realized this long ago; it was just that they trusted Wei Zhao so much that they subconsciously assumed such a small matter would surely be within his calculations. They had forgotten that timing was not something anyone could control—even Wei Zhao could not have foreseen that the Foundation Establishment early-stage group's turn would come so soon.

"No matter what, I'm going to find the leaders right now. As long as we're not drawn for the first match, it should be fine. I doubt our luck is that bad." Wu Chengtian set off at once.

Yet before he had taken two steps, Xin Yi'an had already announced before the crowd: "Foundation Establishment early stage, first match: Ying Ziyu of the secular world against Luo Shasheng of the Snow Sword Sect."

"Huh? How can that be!" Wu Chengtian stumbled and nearly fell flat on his face. Qiu Lingshan and the others all wore expressions of exquisite agony. Whatever they feared had come to pass—what were they supposed to do now?

By then, Luo Shasheng had already strode slowly into the arena, radiating a savage aura, a ferocious grin on his face as he looked at Qiu Lingshan and the rest.

Although Qiu Lingshan had miraculously turned the tables on him in the first round, and her strike had indeed landed squarely on a vital spot, she had not actually struck with full force. So by the time the second round began, Luo Shasheng had already recovered. Over the next three rounds, he did not encounter anyone from Wei Zhao's group again.

Among all the Foundation Establishment early-stage disciples the Primordial Alliance had brought out to the secular world for training this time, Luo Shasheng's strength was not quite top-tier, but he was, after all, a disciple of the Snow Sword Sect who could smoothly command the power of snow. His strength was not to be underestimated—if not first-rate, then certainly second-rate. So long as his luck was not too wretched, his abilities were enough to defeat most opponents.

Perhaps, though, Qiu Lingshan's blow had shaken him badly. His strength had recovered, but his form had suffered no small blow. In the next two rounds he won one and lost one. He had not been eliminated outright, but he had one foot on the edge of the cliff—there was no retreating now.

"What a coincidence. It's a pity it isn't Qiu Lingshan, but at least it gives me a chance to settle a score. I can hardly wait." Luo Shasheng looked at Qiu Lingshan with a hint of regret. He had been thoroughly unconvinced by that inexplicable loss to her in the first round, and for the next several rounds he had dreamed of meeting her again. Unfortunately, no such chance had come. Now he would have to take out his frustration on Ying Ziyu.

Qiu Lingshan and the others all glared at him furiously. If this were not the trial tournament, they would have gone up and taught the creature a proper lesson. If Qiu Lingshan had not shown mercy last time, he would already be a dead man—and he still had the gall to boast so shamelessly here!

That said, it would be a lie to claim they were not worried at all. Judging by Ying Ziyu's performance in the previous matches, facing this Luo Shasheng did not bode well—especially since the creature harbored a grudge. If he truly seized his chance, the consequences would be unthinkable. He would certainly not let Ying Ziyu concede easily.

"The match begins. Both disciples, please enter the arena and take your positions." Seeing that Ying Ziyu had still not entered, Xin Yi'an turned and urged them on—but he could not find Ying Ziyu anywhere. After several months, he had dealt with Qiu Lingshan and the others often enough to recognize Ying Ziyu's appearance, and he could not help but stare blankly: "Where is Ying Ziyu?"

Under normal circumstances, whether or not it was their turn to be drawn, all disciples would wait together at the sidelines. Even those who had won all three matches and earned their trial qualification early, or those who had lost all three and been eliminated early—apart from the seriously injured, the vast majority remained to watch the others compete. A case like Ying Ziyu's—unharmed yet vanished—was a first.

"Well..." Qiu Lingshan and the others exchanged glances, then hurriedly said, "She had a small matter to attend to and went back, but she'll be right back. Please wait just a moment."

"Then... very well." Xin Yi'an nodded. If anyone else had said such a thing, it might not have worked, but Ying Ziyu was one of Wei Zhao's people—a grand-uncle master, no less—so this much face had to be given.

Luo Shasheng gave an dissatisfied snort at the sight, but did not dare say anything more. He was no great figure like Xue Jianming, merely a lowly Foundation Establishment early-stage disciple. How would he dare put on airs before a Golden Core-stage leading uncle-master like Xin Yi'an? So he could only swallow it.

Qiu Lingshan and the others breathed a sigh of relief and hastily sent Wu Chengtian to notify Wei Zhao and Ying Ziyu. But this place was quite a distance from the Cangwu Sect's exclusive island on the North Island, and one had to row a boat—without the time of two incense sticks, a round trip was simply impossible. Even Xin Yi'an would be too embarrassed to openly delay everyone that long. They could only treat a dead horse as a live one and hope for the best.

When one stick of incense had burned down, the other Primordial Alliance disciples indeed grew impatient. If the one making them wait so long were a great figure like Wei Zhao, that would be understandable, but now it was merely a lowly little slip of a girl. Xin Yi'an, as leading uncle-master and judge, was showing such favoritism—was his partiality not far too heavy?

"Uncle-Master Xin, we've waited long enough, haven't we? If she doesn't come, are we to keep waiting like this forever?" Luo Shasheng finally mustered the courage to question him.

"Indeed. By the rules of the trial tournament, anyone who fails to appear in time is deemed to have forfeited automatically. Waiting one stick of incense is already the limit—wait any longer and the flowers will have withered." The others chimed in one after another.

"This..." Xin Yi'an cast a troubled glance at Qiu Lingshan and the others. From where he stood, he had truly done his utmost; he could only give them a look of helplessness, and at once prepared to announce: "In that case, I hereby declare that Ying Ziyu, for being excessively late, is deemed to have forfeited auto—"

Before he could finish, Ying Ziyu's voice suddenly came from not far away: "Sorry, I'm late."

"Thank goodness!" Seeing Wei Zhao and Ying Ziyu appear together, Qiu Lingshan and the others instantly breathed a sigh of relief—even Xin Yi'an did. Only Luo Shasheng looked somewhat disappointed.

He had wanted to use this chance to vent his anger on Ying Ziyu, but compared with that, the trial tournament mattered far more. If he could pick up a free win without lifting a finger, he would be able to maintain peak condition for the crucial fifth round, and his chances of earning the trial qualification would be much greater.

"Then I'm going up!" Ying Ziyu, shedding the panic and unease of the previous rounds, smiled confidently and held out her palm to Wei Zhao.

"Mm. Go get them." Wei Zhao clapped her palm.

Ying Ziyu strode spiritedly into the arena, looked across at Luo Shasheng, drew a deep breath, and said to herself: Watch closely—this girl will absolutely not hold everyone back. Absolutely not!