As the Abbot of Lei spoke, the atmosphere on the plaza instantly tightened. Fifty-three sets of eyes exchanged glances, each filled with vigilance toward the others. In this state of disorder, whoever could secure their place and remain in the game would secure the next advantage—yet most of them knew that the selection process was both rigorous and fiercely competitive. Out of the fifty-three, only eight would remain. Four of these eight spots were already claimed by representatives from the Four Palaces. That meant among the remaining forty-nine, only four would succeed in advancing! Selecting four from forty-nine—such a stringent filter would surely give rise to intensely fierce battles. When the atmosphere in the arena grew tense, quietness spread beyond the plaza as well, countless sets of eyes fixed unwaveringly on the scene. These individuals were all outstanding talents among the younger generation—except for a few exceptions, most of them possessed truly impressive prowess. Thus, the battles unfolding among them naturally drew exceptional attention. Since spotting Lin Yan's figure, Xiao Yan's gaze had remained fixed upon him. With his current keen sight, he had immediately discerned Lin Yan's strength—four-star Sovereign. While this level might be considered solid elsewhere, here it only just met the threshold for qualifying to enter the grand tournament. "I didn't expect it after all these years—he's now reached the Sovereign level. I remember when he was still at the King-tier before his retreat; he must have had some remarkable fortune these past years," Xiao Yan murmured, shifting his gaze thoughtfully between Lin Yan's silhouette. Adventure is no stranger to the Central Plains. Xiang Yan's ability to transcend to the Douzong stage through the Tianshan Blood Pond is no exception—others, too, must surely experience such rare and uncommon blessings. The Central Plains stretch endlessly, and within those vast, misty mountain ranges, who could possibly explore them thoroughly? As Xiao Yan spoke to himself, the atmosphere on the already taut plaza finally reached a point of unbearable tension, and someone was the first to break, swiftly thrusting their weapon toward a figure standing not far away. However, everyone on the plaza remained extremely cautious—any movement from the attacker immediately drew attention. The person who had been struck reacted with shock and outrage, and instantly, a surge of powerful qi erupted from within them. Grasping their weapon tightly, they launched a counterattack against the intruder. On the plaza, qi surged forth, spreading chaos that never ceased. At such moments, nearly every person within reach became an opponent, an enemy—each one as startled as a bird whose wings had been shaken by a sudden arrow. As soon as anyone entered their few meters, their inner qi would automatically, under the guidance of their spirit, launch a fierce assault upon the intruder. Amidst this turmoil, it was common for several individuals to unite and face off against a single opponent. At present, however, such a situation only seemed unfortunate—those who faced multiple adversaries of similar strength swiftly retreated from the plaza within scarcely ten rounds. That deafening roar was also quite frustrating for Xiao Yan, who had to mentally focus, allowing his battle energy to flow over his ears, completely blocking out the noise. His gaze remained fixed on the chaotic scene. By now, the battlefield had become utterly disordered, with the crisp sounds of battle energy clashes and sword strikes echoing continuously. Even though every person present was no novice, many were still steadily bleeding out and retreating. The sheer chaos meant that while one could defend against attacks from the front, the back was always vulnerable. Enemies came from all directions, and a single misstep could bring a fatal blow. In such a grand melee, where swords had no mercy, injuries were entirely expected. If someone suffered a life-threatening blow and shouted in surrender, according to the rules, no further attacks would be made upon them. The chaos lasted barely less than ten minutes, and already over a dozen contestants had sustained serious injuries, forced to withdraw from the field. If they stayed any longer, it would likely be far worse than just serious wounds. The level of disorder on the field had indeed surprised Xiao Yan—he had expected a formal, one-on-one elimination process for such a grand event. Instead, he found himself facing this chaotic, all-at-once screening format. It wasn't enough to have strength anymore; one also needed a certain amount of luck. After all, even the strongest fighters could be overwhelmed by sheer numbers. A top-tier Du Phong peak warrior might find themselves defeated if unlucky enough to be surrounded and attacked by a dozen Du Phong-level opponents. The outcome would likely be quite grim. What truly surprised Xiao Yan most, however, was Lin Yan himself. While his strength in this gathering was only average, he had not been eliminated in these past ten minutes. Only after closely observing him did Xiao Yan begin to notice the subtle reasons behind his resilience. "Lin Yan's footwork... seems rather remarkable, though it's rather unappealing." Xiao Yan gazed thoughtfully at Lin Yan's movements in the arena—though they appeared awkward, even clumsy, like a duck waddling left and right—yet with his current discernment, he could clearly see that this footwork technique was no ordinary one. Its subtlety and refinement were no less impressive than the "Three Thousand Thunder Strikes." "This guy must have had some extraordinary experiences over the years," Xiao Yan smiled. He was certain that the awkward, unrefined footwork he now saw had not existed in Lin Yan's earlier days; it must have developed through his years of training and experience. Seeing Lin Yan persevere, Xiao Yan felt a sense of relief. After all, their relationship remained strong, and it was heartening to witness his current achievements. Xiao Yan's gaze shifted from Lin Yan and slowly swept across the arena. His eyes narrowed slightly. Though the square was extremely chaotic, there remained four relatively safer zones amidst the turmoil. The guardians of these four circles were none other than Feng Qing'er, Mu Qinglun, Tang Ying, and Wang Chen. At this moment, each of the four radiated the peak strength of a Battle Emperor, their faces cold as they gazed steadily at the chaotic battlefields around them. Anyone daring to enter their respective zones was immediately met with the most intense attacks. These four were clearly among the top-tier figures in the arena. While several others on the field demonstrated strong performances, they clearly dared not approach or engage with these four directly. The chaos in the arena continued, yet the entire square seemed to function like a sieve, constantly filtering out people—those who remained were growing increasingly sparse. As the number of people steadily declined, the overall disorder gradually eased, and when the count dropped to just eleven, an unusual stillness settled over the scene. The eleven were scattered throughout the arena, breathing heavily and keeping a watchful eye on one another. Xiao Yin scanned the field and was momentarily taken aback to find Lin Yan among them. In fact, at this point, Lin Yan was the weakest in terms of strength—most of the other ten were either seven-star or eight-star cultivators. Of course, his unusual footwork and combat technique had been instrumental in allowing him to endure thus far. Lin Yan's outstanding performance naturally draws more attention—he is the first among the eleven participants in the past several Quadra Hall gatherings to have maintained a four-star Sovereign rank all the way through. Of course, this favorable fortune won't last forever. After a brief adjustment of breath among the attendees, several critical glances turned toward him, and one red-clad man, a Sovereign of eight stars, stomped his foot firmly, then launched himself like an arrow, straight toward Lin Yan. Seeing that he had suddenly been challenged by a Sovereign of eight stars, Lin Yan's expression slightly tightened. He immediately deployed his unusual footwork, narrowly evading the opponent's forceful attack, while simultaneously retreating step by step. Though the initial strike failed, the red-clad man only chuckled, then spun his large sword into a flourish of blade patterns, moving with relentless persistence, following Lin Yan closely. The sharp blade pressure he maintained forced Lin Yan to keep retreating rapidly. On the silver platform, Xiao Yan had already risen, his eyes slightly narrowed as he watched Lin Yan struggle through the perilous situation. Naturally, he wouldn't allow Lin Yan to fall to someone else's blade—should that moment come, he would surely step in to assist. "But... something seems off." Focusing intently on the back-and-forth pursuit between the two, Xiao Yan's brow furrowed. Throughout the earlier exchanges, the red-robed man had several clear opportunities to strike Lin Yan, yet he had never done so—instead, his actions seemed deliberately aimed at chasing after Lin Yan. After a brief pause, Xiao Yan's gaze sharpened suddenly, fixing on the yellow-robed man closest to Lin Yan, whose face was stern and composed. This man was not unfamiliar to Xiao Yan—he was Wang Chen of Huang Quan Pavilion, now gazing at Lin Yan as though a venomous serpent, his expression carrying a subtle undercurrent of cold determination. "That man intends to push Lin Yan right into Wang Chen's range of attack!" Xiao Yan's heart leapt with alarm—this man was truly ruthless, aiming to use others as pawns! As Xiao Yan perceived the red-robed man's intentions, the swiftly retreating Lin Yan finally took a step and stepped fully within Wang Chen's range of attack. The moment Lin Yan's feet entered that circle, a wave of coldness surged through him. Then he saw the red-robed man, smiling coldly as he rapidly retreated, his gaze flicking back and catching a black ribbon of lethal force, like a venomous snake, shooting straight toward his throat. "Halt! I surrender!" Faced with that black ribbon of attack, Lin Yan felt his scalp prickle with fear. The gap between him and Wang Chen was too vast; even with his agility, he could not stand a chance. To Lin Yan's cry, Wang Chen only let out a cold laugh. By nature, he was a man who loved bloodshed—his attacks always ended in wounds, and there was no way he would withdraw. "Damn you, unprincipled old turtle!" "Seeing that even after automatically conceding, this guy still wouldn't back down, Lin Yan grew pale and shouted angrily. Though he scolded furiously, at the crucial moment, he promptly deployed his unusual and awkward movements, his body swaying strangely as he swiftly retreated. "Thwack!" The black ribbon of energy shot like a venomous snake and struck squarely against Lin Yan's shoulder. "Pfft!" Hit hard, Lin Yan spat out a stream of blood, his body skidding across the ground, leaving a trail of several dozen meters. Had he not narrowly avoided his vital organs earlier, he would have been dead by now. This scene in the center of the arena drew a wave of murmurs and criticisms from the stands—after conceding, the opponent had still delivered such a fierce blow, and Wang Chen's actions seemed rather unbecoming. As for the murmurs from the stands, Wang Chen paid them no heed, his gaze cold and piercing toward Lin Yan. Lin Yan’s earlier outbursts had clearly stirred a fierce determination within him. With a cold smile, he clenched his hands, and two long, sleek black daggers slid smoothly from his sleeves. In a flash, he launched forward, appearing before Lin Yan within a single blink. Without hesitation, the daggers surged forward, forming a sharp, deadly streak, plunging directly into Lin Yan’s chest—where he had no time to react. "Damn it! This guy has no dignity! He’s truly bringing shame to Huangquan Pavilion!" While Wang Chen’s earlier actions had merely stirred some murmurs, now his actions had fully enraged a growing number of spectators, whose voices of outrage poured forth like a storm. Those numerous criticisms seemed only to make Wang Chen's smile colder, while his movements remained undiminished. As for Lin Yan, he could only watch in helpless dismay as the cold, shimmering black aura surged toward his vital points—his body offering no chance to evade it at all. "Am I going to die right here?" a quiet murmur echoed within Lin Yan's mind. Just as he prepared to close his eyes and accept his fate, a sudden surge of suction erupted from behind, propelling him backward. Then he felt a warm hand gently pressing against his shoulder, and a familiar, resigned voice—unannounced—spoke directly into his ear. "You're always showing up here with no reason at all, aren't you?"