Chapter 1: The Six-Bone Supreme, Mengchen!

Xuanyu, Lingshan!

Lingshan rises high, as if reaching deep into the clouds; it sits nestled in a green embrace, coexisting in harmony with the earth.

Towering emerald trees, fresh air, and the melodious chirping of birds radiate an endless aura of life.

At the peak of Lingshan lies a vast complex of massive structures; sunlight shines upon the golden roofs of the grand halls, reflecting a dazzling golden glow and presenting an aura of incomparable, holy solemnity that makes one feel an urge to prostrate and worship.

This is the renowned dojo of the Western Sect!

Today is the decennial internal competition of the Western Sect, intended to determine the new generation of young Supreme.

Whoever can come out on top and become the new generation of young Supreme will undoubtedly become the most shining star, receiving immense favor and the utmost cultivation from within the sect.

It is currently noon, the sun has climbed to the zenith, and not a single wisp of cloud is visible.

In the center of this vast complex, a massive training ground paved with bluestone catches the eye, surrounded by grand, towering halls.

The training ground is packed with people; they are all the same age, having just turned ten this year, and the differences in their height are not obvious.

Because of their young age, their faces are full of childishness, making one feel that they could easily take them all on single-handedly, so why waste time watching them compete?

Hehe... to those who have such thoughts, I shall offer a light chuckle.

And what I want to say is: while this thought is good, don't forget the old saying: one cannot judge a person by their appearance, just as one cannot measure the sea with a bucket! So, do not be deceived by their outward appearance.

It is no exaggeration to say that every person standing here today is one in a hundred, and even the weakest among them could level a great mountain with a flip of their hand.

After a rough scan, there are at least three to five hundred young monks on the training ground, all with heads held high and chests puffed out, standing like pines, full of arrogance.

Apart from their uniformly shiny, hairless bald heads, their light gray monk robes are also nearly identical.

Why is the attire only "nearly" identical? Because in the very center of the training ground, there is a young monk wearing an orange monk robe.

His bright attire is very conspicuous, inevitably attracting attention.

Looking closely, he has a round face and fair skin, as lovable as a porcelain doll, with bright, sparkling eyes that glance around quite casually.

Yet, the behavior of this pitiable-looking young monk is something one dare not compliment in the slightest.

He stands with his hands on his hips, a piece of dogtail grass dangling from his mouth, the grass bobbing up and down as his teeth shift; his upturned little nose looks mischievous and funny, and while his little eyes scan the surroundings, his legs are also restlessly twitching.

He stands in extreme contrast to the crowd of young monks around him, who are all solemn and standing like pines.

Being here, he can only be described in two words: an outlier!

Perhaps it is because the other young monks are ashamed to be associated with him!

They are all staying as far away from him as possible.

Gradually, while maintaining the proud posture of standing like pines, these young monks shift their feet from time to time, distancing themselves...

As time passes, the area within a hundred meters of this young monk in the orange robe is already empty.

"Uh..."

Seeing this, the slouching young monk in the orange robe is slightly stunned; he looks around with a blank gaze and calls out:

"Hey... why are you all staying so far away from me? I'm not going to eat you."

Hearing this, the many young monks over a hundred meters away are instantly startled; their necks seem to stiffen, and they steal glances with their eyes toward the young monk in the orange robe in the center of the training ground.

Following his call, the atmosphere here becomes instantly eerie; the young monks dare not breathe loudly, looking terrified, as if facing an abyss.

From this, it seems their previous active distancing was not out of shame, but out of fear!

On the observation platform of the training ground, there are a dozen or so monks, all top figures within the Western Sect.

They sit cross-legged like bells upon Lotus Platforms, draped in magnificent cassocks embroidered with lotus flowers. Their faces are serene, their eyes deep as the sea, as if they can perceive everything; they appear like manifestations of Buddhas, giving one a sense of holy majesty.

Seeing the fear displayed by most of the young monks on the training ground, they begin to discuss:

"The disciples participating in this competition are truly unfortunate! To have encountered this monster Mengchen, I fear they don't even have a sliver of a chance to win."

"Who's to say not? To possess six Supreme Bone is unheard of and unseen!"

"That may be so, but while this batch of disciples is unfortunate, for our Western Sect, it is a tremendous blessing! With Mengchen, this six-bone Supreme, why should our sect worry about not standing at the peak of the Great Dao?"

"If only the three words 'Western Sect' held such a place in that little fellow Mengchen's heart, then even if we gave everything for him, it would be nothing. But this so-called six-bone Supreme, in my view, is full of rebellious bones. He was born into our sect, we raised him and taught him, but ever since he was five, for five whole years, he has run away no less than a hundred times, his heart set on defecting; it truly makes one love and hate him at the same time!"

"Hehe... what love and hate? To him, Mengchen, our sect's love is boundless. If not for that, would our sect's strict rules have been relaxed for him time and time again? We let him wear what he wants, eat and drink what he wants, and act as insolently as he pleases. We have made such huge concessions for him, yet this kid still thinks only of defecting; it is truly tormenting! It gives one a headache."

"Sigh... fellow Daoists, just endure it! I believe there will come a day when the prodigal son returns." Finally, a monk with a youthful face sitting in the center of the observation platform sighs.

He looks both mysterious and awe-inspiring, his head shiny and hairless, with white eyebrows and a white beard, possessing a peerless youthful face that could make thousands of fairies infatuated; his skin is delicate and fair, without a single blemish.

He wears a dazzling cassock, appearing solemn and majestic.

He is the Sect Leader of the Western Sect, Jinchanzi!

He is one of the strongest existences in this world.

Hearing Jinchanzi's sigh, the monks on both sides nod and respond in unison, as if listening to a teaching.

"The Sect Leader speaks truly; we only hope that day comes soon."

Jinchanzi's deep gaze sweeps across.

"Believe me, it will come; just wait slowly. Some things cannot be rushed."

"Dong... dong... dong..."

Three deep, incomparable bell tolls ring out.

"I hereby announce, today's competition officially begins!"

As the bell tolls fade, echoing far and wide, Jinchanzi's voice rises, like a thunderclap, loud and powerful, instantly shocking everyone.

The moment his voice falls, the sound of wind being broken echoes across the training ground; the young monks, who were originally standing proudly like pines, decisively launch attacks at one another.

In an instant, the large training ground becomes a chaotic battlefield; mysterious Rune flicker and shine to the extreme, and the fierce energy rages ruthlessly, causing young monks to be constantly and miserably eliminated.

The competition is quite intense; in just a few moments, over a hundred people have already been defeated.

Although the competition on the training ground is exceptionally intense, it has not the slightest effect on Mengchen, who is standing in the very center.

During the fierce battle, all the young monks maintain a safe distance of over a hundred meters from the figure in the center of the dojo, as if the hundred-meter radius around him is a forbidden zone that they dare not step into.

Mengchen remains the same; looking out, he is still an outlier on the plaza, and facing the fierce battle erupting around him, he doesn't mind the trouble, acting as a spectator watching the live-streamed fight for free on the scene.

Although Mengchen was young and his manner was casual, his composed temperament was revealed without a doubt, inconsistent with his age; his deep eyes were like the sun, moon, and stars, scanning his surroundings with extreme indifference.

Looking at the situation here, one could tell even without being told what kind of existence he was in the eyes of these young monks.

He was an insurmountable chasm, an invincible freak, and a son of the Great Dao who upheld the fortune of the Dao.

Otherwise, why would no one dare to challenge him?

(End of this chapter)