Northern Bing Tian Frost Continent
This vast domain sprawled with boundless grasslands, vibrant blooms, and countless birds and beasts, a harmonious Eden steeped in rich spiritual energy, a mortal realm's immortal paradise.
Here, locals often glimpsed groups of breathtaking beauties traveling together, each a peerless gem, adorned in matching floral robes, their laughter like songbirds, resembling immortals on patrol. They captivated hearts, leaving onlookers spellbound.
These were disciples of the Bai Hua Blossom Sect.
On this continent, any true man might be ignorant of Duo Bao Pavilion or Sacred Lotus Academy, but none could claim ignorance of Bai Hua Blossom Sect.
Every male cultivator of repute harbored a dream: to wed a Bai Hua disciple.
Raised from childhood in refinement, they mastered music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, steeped in decorum and noble lineage. Each was a vision of unearthly beauty, the ideal companion in the mortal realm.
Yet, dreams were one thing—how many succeeded? Among thousands, perhaps one, a prodigy of youth, noble birth, and impeccable virtue.
Bai Hua's women held lofty standards, especially since, a few years ago, the sect welcomed a new Sect Master.
This new leader, not yet 200, a Void Refinement Early Stage powerhouse, outshone leaders of other Seventh-Grade factions. Were it not for the sect's overall strength, Bai Hua might have claimed Eighth-Grade status.
More than that, this Sect Master was a celestial beauty, veiled year-round. Her ghostly figure alone left few men unmoved. Legend told of an Eighth-Grade faction leader visiting Bai Hua, catching a glimpse of her partially veiled face. Struck as if by lightning, he knelt at the sect's gates for six months, begging her love, only to be refused.
Countless tales swirled around this new Sect Master, propelling Bai Hua's fame across the four directions. Suitors for its disciples flooded in like carp crossing a river.
For the past month, the region buzzed with fervor. Daily, immortal maidens scattered petals, and fireworks burst endlessly. Cultivators from all corners converged, locals beaming, awaiting this day.
The Saintess Ceremony.
Bai Hua's grandest festival, it selected 100 core disciples from thousands, and from those, three Saintesses. Each Saintess held a status just below the Sect Master, one potentially destined to inherit her throne.
The selection was secretive, conducted behind sealed gates, known only to sect members. The Saintess Ceremony, however, was a lavish public unveiling, presenting the three chosen Saintesses to the continent's powers.
Who wouldn't be curious? Ordinary Bai Hua disciples were already fairy-like—what marvels must the Saintesses be?
Every man burned with anticipation.
Unlike the imposing grandeur of major sects, Bai Hua's grounds embraced serene harmony with nature. Nestled in a verdant plain, encircled by dense forests yet near human cities, its tranquility was legendary.
Today, its plaza thrummed with activity. Rows of seats were meticulously arranged, laden with spiritual fruits and teas served by radiant female disciples.
Each guest was greeted respectfully, their invitations checked before being guided to pre-assigned seats.
At the plaza's heart, a raised row of seats, clearly reserved for esteemed guests, commanded attention.
"The scenery's lovely, far better than our sweltering home," a young woman with an angelic face pouted, glancing at her elder sister.
"Little imp, with your Wood and Wind roots, of course you love this place. But for most Fire cultivators, Yan Clan's lands are paradise," her sister, a ripe peach of a woman with fiery red hair and a stunning face, chided, rapping her head.
"Ow, that hurts! You always bully me. I'll tell him, and he'll spank your plump rear!" the younger squealed, clutching her head.
"Hmph, let him try."
The Yan Clan's Seventh Elder, watching the sisters bicker, feigned ignorance, gazing skyward.
Around them, heated glances stole toward the duo. With their lineage and beauty, countless youths trailed them like ducks, though even Bai Hua's Saintesses couldn't match their status.
"I am Gu Fei Hua of Qing Yun Sect. May I have the honor of befriending the two ladies?" A bold young man in brocade robes, sword in hand, approached with a refined smile. Nearing 30, his demeanor was courteous.
The crowd buzzed at his introduction:
"Is that Gu Fei Hua?"
"Must be. Qing Yun Sect's prodigy, Nascent Soul at 28."
"Right, with a Wind root and sword mastery, he fights Mid Nascent Soul at Early Stage."
"He's so handsome!"
Amid the chatter, Gu Fei Hua maintained composure, a flicker of pride in his eyes, awaiting the Yan sisters' admiration.
His face soon darkened.
"Hee, he's so poor, not even a storage ring. Should we gift him one?" Yan Die Qing giggled, pointing at his sword, her innocence feigned.
"Nonsense, Ting'er. Qing Yun Sect, a Seventh-Grade power, isn't that destitute. It's called frugality, understand?" Yan Hong Lian laughed, her chest quaking under her gown.
Gu Fei Hua fumed. He carried his sword for flair, to enhance his aura, yet they branded him poor and stingy, humiliating him. Powerless against them, he slunk back to his seat.
Onlookers stifled laughter, grateful for Gu Fei Hua's unwitting sacrifice.
"The Lan Clan arrives!" a herald announced, silencing the crowd.
In northern Bing Tian Frost Continent, the Lan Clan was an undisputed titan, few daring to cross it.
Whispers stirred:
"Wasn't Lan Clan in seclusion for years?"
"True, they offended the Heavenly Dao, suffering heavy losses."
"How would I know? Let's watch."
Above the plaza, two massive Ice-Winged Birds, Fourth-Order beasts, pulled a grand chariot, their aura paling weaker cultivators.
The chariot circled once, landing. Three figures emerged: a hunched elder with wild green hair, exuding subtle pressure; a plain-faced youth in his 20s, his Early Nascent Soul cultivation commanding respect; and, most striking, a young man they trailed deferentially.
Clad in noble blue robes, this youth's handsome face and starry eyes radiated poise. His aura, unconcealed, was Mid Golden Core.
At 15 or 16, such cultivation, paired with his escorts' deference, marked him unmistakably.
Lan Yu, Lan Clan's Young Master.
Hailed as the clan's foremost genius, bearer of dual spirit roots, cultivator of a Heaven-Grade technique, and scion of a Seventh-Grade maternal lineage.
Every trait made Lan Yu a lodestar, drawing all eyes.
Bai Hua disciples cast flirtatious glances.
Lan Yu scanned the crowd calmly, following a core disciple to his seat amid envious stares.
But two gazes burned differently.
The Yan sisters clenched their fists, hatred flashing in their eyes. Lan Yu's radiant gaze, so like the man they loved, unleashed their murderous intent.
The Seventh Elder sensed their turmoil, dispersing their killing aura with a wave, channeling spiritual energy to calm them.
"What's wrong, ladies?" he asked, puzzled.
Suppressing their rage, the sisters exchanged glances, their eyes reflecting resignation. Knowing this wasn't the time, they steadied themselves with deep breaths.
Lan Yu, keenly perceptive, sensed a disturbance despite the elder's swift cover. His gaze met the sisters, his eyes sparking. They were the most stunning women he'd seen—one mature and lush, one vibrant and youthful, both exuding noble grace.
The younger, slightly his junior, was Early Golden Core, nearly his equal.
He turned to the elder beside him. "Ninth Elder, who are they?"
The elder, Lan Jiu, a Mid Spirit Transformation powerhouse, was a Lan Clan stalwart.
"Rich flame aura—they're Yan Clan," Lan Jiu assessed, his tone grave.
"Yan Clan?" Lan Yu's lips curled. A match for the Lan Clan, these women warranted attention.
"The Patriarch warned that Yan Clan is among the few we mustn't provoke," Lan Jiu's words shifted Lan Yu's and the plain-faced youth's expressions.
Sensing their curiosity, Lan Jiu elaborated. "Yan Clan's leader, Yan Yue Qi, like our Patriarch, wields a Thunder root. Her second root counters our Ice—Fire."
"Fire," Lan Yu confirmed, knowing Fire trumped Ice.
"Exactly. Not ordinary flames, either. Yan Clan disciples with Fire roots cultivate a secret technique birthing Blazing Flames. Yan Yue Qi commands a Strange Fire," Lan Jiu's voice grew heavier.
"Strange Fire?" Lan Yu and the youth gasped, aware of its terror.
"Yes, not some low-ranked one. It's the Golden Crow Void Flame, fifth on the Strange Fire Ranking," Lan Jiu intoned.
Seeing their solemnity, Lan Jiu nodded, pleased. He curbed their arrogance, using Yan Clan to teach humility. Yet, he bolstered their pride: "Of course, Lan Clan fears no one. With all our might, the outcome's uncertain."
Balancing humility with clan pride, Lan Jiu proved the Lan Clan's cunning, far from the reckless brutes of tales. They were meticulous, strategic, formidable.
As guests gathered, including Yan and Lan Clans, four Eighth-Grade powers attended, alongside 16 Seventh-Grade and countless lesser factions. The vast plaza, set in the boundless plain, buzzed with unprecedented life.
"The Elders arrive!" a chant rang out.
Ten regal women appeared, each unique—some poised, some elegant, some gentle, some haughty. In resplendent ceremonial robes, their allure magnified, their curves captivating.
Prime beauties, all.
The ten Elders glided forward, greeting guests with neither arrogance nor flattery, earning widespread goodwill.
As they took their seats on the elevated dais, five per side, eyes fell on a vacant phoenix throne at the center.
Men's gazes brimmed with anticipation, breaths quickening, fixed on the empty throne.
They knew who would come next.
The ten Elders rose as one, bowing slightly, hands clasped, proclaiming in unison to the void:
"Welcome, Master of Bai Hua, Descend!"