In the main hall of Miao Miao Island, Chong Zhao stood in his blue robe, the attire of an inner disciple, at the center of the hall. Around his waist were three embroidered flowing clouds, the symbol of Miao Miao Island's top disciple. Er Yun, dressed in a flowing white dress, looked graceful and striking, though her brows betrayed a certain pride. She, however, had only two flowing clouds embroidered on her belt.
The sect leader, Master Song Feng, had a full white beard and wore traditional Daoist robes, exuding a kind and compassionate demeanor—a true elder of benevolence and warmth. At this moment, he looked down at his prized disciple from the main hall, his excitement barely contained.
"I never would have imagined that in just half a year, Zhao’er would ascend to the rank of Immortal Lord. Wonderful!" Song Feng stepped closer to Chong Zhao, his face filled with sentiment. "If your older brother could see you now, with his spirit looking down, he would be at peace."
Hearing these words, Chong Zhao’s expression softened slightly, and even Er Yun’s eyes reddened.
"Chong Zhao owes his success entirely to the unending support of you, Master, and the sect leader." Chong Zhao knelt deeply. "I am forever grateful to Miao Miao Island for the kindness shown to me."
"Zhao’er! What are you doing? Stand up at once!" Song Feng quickly helped Chong Zhao to his feet, his expression a mix of pride and emotion. "Zhao’er, you are the only one in the younger generation of Miao Miao Island in a century to have achieved the rank of Immortal Lord. Finally, our sect can qualify for the ‘Wu Tong Martial Feast’ held between the Immortal and Spirit clans on Phoenix Island.” Song Feng’s face lit with excitement. “I will immediately notify the Heavenly Palace to grant us the right to participate in the Phoenix Island event."
"Uncle, what is the ‘Wu Tong Martial Feast’? I've never heard of it," Er Yun asked, her face curious.
Song Feng sighed as he replied, "Our sect’s decline has been long, so it's no surprise you've never heard of it. This all started two hundred years ago, after a great war between the Immortal and Demon clans. The god Yuanqi sacrificed himself to destroy the demons, sealing them once again in the Purgatory of Nine Abysses. Since then, there has been peace between the Immortal and Spirit clans. The Phoenix Emperor ascended to the Celestial Realm, leaving the governance of the Immortals to the Golden Sun seat. The Phoenix Emperor had known the then-Spirit Emperor, Hong Yi, since their youth, and they became dear friends. Fearing that peace between the two clans would not last after their ascension, they established the ‘Wu Tong Martial Feast’ as a tradition to be held every ten years."
Song Feng turned to Chong Zhao. "Every ten years, young members of both clans who have reached the level of Immortal Lord or Spirit Lord gather on Phoenix Island for a test of spiritual power. The victorious clan is granted control of a blessed realm on the border of both territories for ten years, thus preventing unnecessary conflict and bloodshed. For the Immortal clan, the winning disciple is also awarded the Wu Tong Sword, personally crafted by the Phoenix Emperor, and a chance to apprentice under one of the Four Heavenly Lords, becoming the disciple of a Celestial Seat."
Song Feng placed a heavy hand on Chong Zhao's shoulder. "The ‘Wu Tong Martial Feast’ is a grand event for both clans. Our sect has been absent from it for a century… Zhao’er, if you can secure victory, not only will you bring glory to the Immortals, but our Miao Miao Island will regain its standing among the ‘Three Mountains and Six Palaces’!"
"Please rest assured, Master Uncle. Chong Zhao will train diligently and strive to bring honor to our sect at the ‘Wu Tong Martial Feast,’" Chong Zhao said solemnly.
"Excellent!" Song Feng said, satisfied. He waved his hand. "You’ve had a long journey fighting the octopus monster; go and rest now."
"Understood."
Chong Zhao bowed again and turned to leave, with Er Yun hurriedly following. But Song Feng called her back.
"Er Yun, stay."
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