Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

The wind was picking up in the plaza outside the Daewoo Dojo, making the surrounding flags flutter loudly.

Shortly after the Silver Hand Club entered, two more groups of people arrived outside, one in front and one behind.

The group in front was quite large, consisting of ten people.

Six well-dressed middle-aged men and four dashing young men.

The group behind them looked extremely poor, consisting of only two lonely people.

The two-person team was naturally Xiren and Lund, who had just come out of the underground parking lot.

The two stood quietly a few steps away, waiting, without rushing forward to cut in line.

The ten people in front walked to the door, and the middle-aged man leading them handed over a letter.

Xilun, holding a black umbrella, casually looked up.

With just one glance, a cold, dark glint flashed in his lifeless eyes.

He spotted two familiar figures among the group.

Ross, and Marshall.

Ross stood at the very front of the four young men.

He was wearing an extremely form-fitting, luxurious suit, his arms casually crossed over his chest.

His demeanor was arrogant yet relaxed, as if he held the highest status among the four, even surpassing the middle-aged men beside him who were senior teachers.

Marshall, on the other hand, sat at the very end, his head bowed, his expression gloomy, seemingly the lowest in status among the four young men.

The guards at the gate saw the ten people, and their gazes fell on the middle-aged man who led them, a man who exuded an air of authority without being angry. Their expressions suddenly changed in surprise.

He immediately straightened up, took a half-step closer, took a deep breath, and spoke with undisguised reverence:

"I never expected that it would be President Ildis himself who came!"

The middle-aged man who led the group of ten simply nodded slightly without saying a word.

One of his attendants immediately handed him a gold-embossed invitation.

The guard quickly glanced at them, then immediately returned his hands, secretly surprised.

This time, the Platinum Club boasts an incredibly luxurious lineup! Even the elusive and rarely seen President Ildis is personally leading the team.

It seems likely that they will win the crown again this time.

Or rather, no matter how many players from the Platinum Club participate, as long as Rose, known as the "Extreme Monster," is there, they can easily take first place.

The guard's gaze involuntarily swept across Ross's face.

Noble, magnificent, confident, and serene.

Ross wore a carefree smile, an arrogance that emanated from his very bones, because he had never faced a true opponent.

Seemingly sensing the gaze from behind, Ross turned around.

His gaze swept across the crowd and landed precisely on Xiren and Lund a few steps away.

After seeing Xilun's face clearly, Ross grinned.

That smile was filled with undisguised contempt and arrogance, completely disregarding Xilun as if he were an ant on the roadside.

Marshall, standing at the end of the line, followed Ross's gaze. When he saw Xiren, his face instantly turned ashen, and extreme humiliation flashed in his eyes.

He, a genius of the prestigious Platinum Club, was actually defeated by this country bumpkin from the bottom in the Pioneer Cup!

This is a stain that he can never wash away.

The Platinum Club members ahead were preparing to enter the resort.

A senior teacher walking next to Ross noticed Ross's gaze and asked curiously, "You guys seem to know that person behind you?"

Ross withdrew his gaze and casually chuckled:

"He's just a stray dog. Even if he's lucky enough to qualify for the competition, he'll be kicked to death."

His voice wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the quiet doorway.

Marshall's expression grew even more grim.

Ross held Siren in such low regard, yet he himself had been publicly defeated by Siren once.

Doesn't this mean that in Ross's eyes, he's not even as good as a stray dog?

This made Marshall feel incredibly embarrassed.

However, his status in the club was nowhere near that of Rose, this exceptional talent, and he dared not utter a single word of rebuttal.

He could only grit his teeth and mumble in a low voice:

"The one who defeated me in the previous Vanguard Tournament... was that Xilun."

Upon hearing this, Ross couldn't help but burst out laughing.

He stopped and turned to look at Marshall, his eyes filled with pity and mockery:

"You actually got defeated by that kind of trash? Marshall, you've really hit rock bottom."

It seems this is all you've got in your life.

Marshall's face turned bright red; he was extremely displeased but could only keep his head down.

He channeled all his humiliation into hatred for Xiren, his fists clenched so tightly in his sleeves that they cracked, and he swore furiously in his heart that he would personally defeat Xiren on the stage of this competition and wash away his shame!

The Platinum Club members walked through the gate while chatting and laughing.

The guards stared at their retreating figures, utterly shocked, unable to recover for a long time.

Suddenly, he noticed Xilun and Lund approaching and paused in surprise.

A hint of surprise flashed in the guard's eyes as he looked at the two lonely figures.

The Platinum Club has ten members, and the Silver Hand has six. You only have two? You don't even have a decent follower.

He even thought this wasn't a participating team, and reached out to stop them, saying curtly:

"Please wait a moment, everyone. This is the dojo for the junior knight fighting tournament. If you wish to visit, please purchase your tickets after the main tournament begins."

Lund's lips twitched as he looked at the guard's condescending attitude.

He didn't bother with pleasantries, simply pulled out the slightly worn invitation from his pocket, handed it over, and said coldly:

"We are members of the Iron Cross Fighting Club, and we are here to compete."

The guards at the door were clearly stunned.

He immediately picked up the invitation, carefully checked the seal and name on it, and after confirming that it was correct, he looked up in surprise and said, "You are... Knight Lund?"

Then, his gaze swept past Lund and swept over Xiren, who was standing behind him holding a black umbrella.

The guard looked away, exchanged a knowing glance with his companion, and the group began to whisper among themselves.

"Is this the Iron Cross Fighting Club? The one that's been ranked last among eight clubs for five consecutive years?"

"Now it seems that we've already given up entirely."

"Look at that contestant named Xilen, he doesn't even look twenty years old, does he?"

"No matter what, other clubs also try to meet the age limit by sending people who are 24 or 25 years old, with the deepest extraordinary skills and the most vigorous blood and energy to participate in the competition."

"What a waste of their talent! Sending some greenhorn to his death."

The guards returned the invitation to Lund and made way for the two to enter.

But as he watched Xilun's retreating figure, he secretly sneered to himself.

I'm afraid Iron Cross will make a big fool of itself during the qualifying test before tomorrow's main competition.

According to the competition rules, in order to prevent substitutes or falsifying information, all participants need to undergo extremely rigorous instrument testing.

This includes bone age, blood and qi volume, and extraordinary cultivation level.

If the guard's perception as a first-order baptismal recipient is correct, that young man was probably not even twenty years old.

Most importantly, his aura was so restrained that it was almost nonexistent, not at all profound, suggesting that he had probably been baptized less than a year ago.

This level of skill, placed among the monsters sent by the eight top clubs, is practically the absolute bottom, purely there to serve as punching bags.

As Xiren walked down the corridor leading to the rest area, he could hear the whispers behind him clearly.

But there was no anger or emotion on his cold, stern face.

He simply gripped the black umbrella tightly, feeling the terrifying power within his body, as if a giant whale from the deep sea was lurking there, and the violent electrical charge hidden deep within his flesh and blood, ready to explode at any moment.

……

The interior of Daewoo Dojo is far more breathtaking than it appears from the outside.

Xilun remained calm, carrying the heavy alloy spear disguised as a black umbrella, and followed Lund at a leisurely pace.

His military boots made a dull, rhythmic sound as they stepped on the gleaming marble floor.

The walls on both sides of the corridor are made of precious deep red walnut wood, and every ten steps there is a brass gas lamp.

The dim yellow light refracted through the intricate steam pipes, and the air was filled with a strange aroma that was a mixture of a faint smell of engine oil and an expensive cigar.

This is a unique flavor that belongs to the Victorian era, a blend of industry and aristocracy.

Xilun's gaze slowly swept over his surroundings, lost in thought.

This venue is far larger than I imagined.

On this floor they are currently on, there are dozens of rooms with different functions.

Through the doors fitted with thick, explosion-proof glass, one could vaguely see various heavy steam machines used for testing qi and blood and tempering the body.

The mechanical gears were meshing and turning, emitting a low rumble; it was clearly a public practice facility prepared for the participants.

He turned his head and looked at the huge floor-to-ceiling window at the end of the corridor.

Outside the window, there are rolling mountains.

Black veins loomed in and out of sight under the hazy sky, while thick white mist swirled around the mountainside, and several enormous birds of prey circled in the clouds.

The scenery is magnificent and breathtaking.

This place is not just a dojo, but more like an iron fortress perched in the mountains, showcasing the unfathomable and terrifying depths of the "Maintaining Church".

"Stop looking, and don't go anywhere else yet."

Lund stopped and straightened his sharp black suit, his tone unusually serious. "Let's go pay our respects to the curator, Lord Fowles."

Xilun withdrew his gaze and nodded slightly.

The fact that this academy owner could command such respect from a usually arrogant mentor suggests that he is no ordinary person.

The two walked up the spiral staircase covered with velvet carpet to a room with double doors on the top floor.

Just as Lund was about to knock on the door, he suddenly paused, his brow furrowing slightly.

Xilun heard it too.

Thanks to his "far-sounding" talent, he could still clearly hear the subtle sounds coming from inside the room, even through the thick soundproof wooden door.

It seemed to be a man and a woman talking. The woman's voice was low, with a hint of urgency and suppressed anger, while the man's voice was gentle and calm.

Immediately afterwards, the sound of the doorknob turning rang out.

The door was pushed open from the inside, and four or five people walked out of the room one after another.

Siren took a half step back without making a sound, clearing a path.

His gaze swept calmly over the group, but when he saw the faces of two of them, a ripple flashed deep in his eyes.

He spotted a familiar figure among the group—Daisy.

The noblewoman who wrote to him when he was lost, suggesting he seek out witches to enlighten him on mysticism.

At this moment, Daisy was wearing an exquisite light blue lace dress, her long golden hair was carefully styled up, revealing her fair and slender swan neck.

She clearly hadn't expected to meet Xilun here. Her sapphire-like eyes widened instantly, her long eyelashes blinked rapidly, and her rosy lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something.

But standing beside her was a graceful and elegant noblewoman.

She was an exceptionally beautiful woman.

Time seems to have left few marks on her face; instead, it has given her a mature charm that young girls could never possess.

She wore a deep purple fitted long dress that perfectly accentuated her extremely voluptuous figure, with a breathtaking curve in her chest and a supple, slender waist.

Her eyes revealed a cold arrogance born of long-standing authority, along with a complex emotion that had not yet completely faded.

The noblewoman keenly noticed her daughter's unusual behavior. She glanced sideways, her indifferent gaze sweeping over Xilun as if he were a decoration in the corridor, without lingering at all.

Then, without a doubt, she took Daisy's hand, which was gloved with white silk, and, surrounded by her entourage, walked away to the other end of the corridor without looking back.

Daisy could only helplessly be led away by her mother. As they turned the corner, she glanced back at Celen, her eyes filled with apology and deep surprise.

Xilun watched their departing figures expressionlessly, his fingers gently stroking the handle of the black umbrella as he pondered to himself.

"Let's go in," Lund whispered, interrupting Xiren's thoughts.

The two entered the room.

The room was surprisingly elegantly furnished, lacking the nouveau riche luxury found outside. The walls were covered with antique oil paintings, and a man and a woman stood behind a huge oak desk.

Lund stepped forward, bowed respectfully, and gave a perfectly standard knightly salute: "Greetings, Lord Fowles, Lady Xiuna."

Xilun bowed slightly in greeting, while simultaneously raising his eyelids and using the gesture of bowing his head to quickly sized up the two people in front of him.

Both of them wore amicable smiles, as if nothing had happened outside the door or the earlier argument inside the room.

Siren's gaze first fell on Fowles.

This was a man with an extremely gentle face and handsome features. He had a few fine crow's feet at the corners of his eyes, wore an ordinary gray woolen vest, and even had a pair of gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.

There was not a trace of energy or blood leaking from his body; his muscles were relaxed, and his breathing was even.

In Xilun's perception, this man was not an extraordinary person at all, but more like an ordinary old professor who studied history at a university.

However, at this moment, the "Great Ocean Whale Guiding Technique" within Xilun's body was issuing a frantic warning!

His heart, modified with "adaptive organs," skipped a beat uncontrollably.

Because in his "far hearing" talent, the Fowles in front of him simply does not exist!

He couldn't hear the other person's heartbeat, the sound of blood flowing, or even the air around them seemed eerily still.

Returning to simplicity.

This is what makes a fourth-tier demon hunter so terrifying.

They have completely integrated extraordinary power into every cell of their lives. If they are unwilling, even an extreme alien species standing in front of them will treat them as a lifeless stone.

Xilun forcibly suppressed the surging blood and qi within his body, maintaining a deathly still expression.

At this moment, Fowles seemed to lose his composure.

His gaze passed over Xiren and Lund's shoulders, quietly looking at the open doorway, watching the figure that had long since disappeared at the end of the corridor.

Siren seemed to be deep in thought as the high and mighty Lord Fowles looked at the back of one of the five people from earlier.

Without a doubt, he was looking at the voluptuous noblewoman who was holding Daisy's hand.

The woman standing next to Fowles, however, presents a completely different style.

She looked to be in her thirties, wearing a gorgeous but slightly elaborate court-style gown.

Her features were actually quite pretty, but her slightly protruding forehead and upturned eyebrows ruined the overall beauty, making her face appear somewhat sharp and mean.

At that moment, she was staring intently at Fowles, her chest heaving violently, seemingly very angry, but she was suppressing her anger because there were outsiders present.