Amon didn't mind it anymore. He would own to who he was, and if Erin or anyone come looking for trouble, he was ready to give it to them.

The sun was still not high in the sky, so h.e.l.l's Keeper City was covered in shadows and the blue crystals still shone above the buildings.

Amon walked to the Ashen Heart Tree still a bit drowsy. He hadn't managed to sleep well that night, but as a Body Tempering cultivator he needed just a few minutes to get himself together.

There was a circular black counter surrounding the white trunk of the Ashen Heart Tree. Dozens of clerks wearing the standard purple uniform were standing there, waiting for the members of the Outer Sect to register for the Promotion Compet.i.tion. There were nothing but a handful of cultivators being attended, as it was still too soon and most people would take hours to move from their houses to h.e.l.l's Keeper City.

Amon found an available clerk and greeted her. She was a young woman in her late teens, and had her black hair neatly arranged in a ponytail. She looked at him from head to toe, and an almost imperceptible hint of curiosity showed in her eyes for no more than a moment as she looked at Amon.

"Good morning, sir." She smiled to him. "How can I help you?"

"I'm here to register for the compet.i.tion." Amon answered as he took out the silver token he received almost six months ago. He handed it to her alongside his purple identification card.

"Thank you very much, sir." She held the token and the card, and swiped them at a glowing ball by her side. It flashed with a green light before she gave Amon his identification card back alongside a wooden plaque with a number engraved in it.

"Your identification number will be 42, sir." She said politely. "The compet.i.tion will be held in the h.e.l.l's Keeper Arena, located in the West Zone of the city."

"Alright, thanks." Amon thanked the clerk and promptly left. He would have to walk a fair bit to reach the h.e.l.l's Keeper Arena.

As he left, Amon enjoyed the fresh air in the city. It was somewhat cold inside the mountain, but he didn't mind. The chill helped him wake up properly, and Amon always liked to feel the light p.r.i.c.kling at his skin from a cold breeze. It made him feel refreshed and alert.

"There will be a lot of people partic.i.p.ating." Lya said as Amon walked.

"I think it will be a number around three thousand or so." Amon answered.

It was just a fraction of the number of people living in the Outer Sect, but it stood to reason. Even if they were eligible, those that were too old and too young wouldn't be taking part on the compet.i.tion, except for a few isolated cases.

Those that felt they were too weak would also avoid taking part in it. It would be a waste of a whole day of work, and there was a good chance of them taking a beating on top of that.

Even if it was an open tournament, everyone knew that the crus.h.i.+ng majority would be of cultivators in their teens and twenties.

Amon felt that it was a heartless setup. It was giving hope to those that could never really achieve it. He was sure that the final compet.i.tors in the top ten would be from the Inner Ring, as they had the resources to grow strong.

For him, it was nothing but a ruse to shake things up in the Outer Sect for a bit, giving people the impression that the higher ups did care about them when the real results would be pus.h.i.+ng forward the promotion of a few members of the Inner Ring without having to truly meet the requirements.

The sooner they got into the Inner Sect, the better, because then the sect could invest on them at an earlier date and properly make use of their youth and potential.

Nevertheless, Amon was excited. He had a real chance of being taken as the disciple of an Elder, even if he did not make it to the top ten.

As he walked, the buildings surrounding him turned more and more spa.r.s.e and the street turned wider, until he was in front of a behemoth of a construction.

It was a circular stadium that stood seventy meters high, with glossy white walls that looked like porcelain. It had to have at least half a mile in diameter. Its sheer scale made Amon stupefied.

A huge golden gate stood in front of Amon, a full ten meters tall and six meters wide. It was opened outwards, and lead to a s.p.a.cious hall with white walls and floor. On the other side of the hall stood another golden gate, but this one was closed. It probably led to the fighting arenas inside the stadium.

The hall could hold about one thousand people at once, and there were five clerks in front of the gate, as well as five guards holding spears and wearing white uniforms.

Amon approached a clerk and showed the wooden plaque he had received.

"You can wait in the hall." The clerk said to him and signaled for a guard to let Amon pa.s.s. "The compet.i.tion will start in the afternoon, so you will have to be patient."

Amon thanked him and entered the hall, not minding the wait. He found a corner and sat there, hugging Windhowler as he closed his eyes to rest. He wasn't too worried about anything, as Lya would certainly wake him up as soon as something happened.

He controlled his breathing and soon entered a trance-like state. As he stood in the corner, more and more cultivators started entering the hall and taking their places to wait for the compet.i.tion to begin.

They were, as Amon expected, mostly in their teens or twenties, but here there an older man or a younger girl could be seen. The quality of their clothing spoke volumes about where they came from and the bored people soon started to speculate about each other.

The truth was, in the Outer Sect no one knew each other. The area of the Outer Sect alone was in the hundreds, if not thousands of square miles. The number of members of the Outer Sect could be imagined.

Adding to that, the compet.i.tions in the Outer Sect where rare and far-between. The only consensus was that cultivators from the Inner Ring were more powerful, for obvious reasons. A few of those were famous, but not many knew their names.

All the wealthy families could really do was promote compet.i.tions between their younger generations, but they were hosted inside h.e.l.l's Keeper City. This meant that virtually anyone outside the Inner Ring would not be able to watch such compet.i.tions.

It was no more than a way for the wealthy families to present their scions to the Elders and see if they were talented enough to be turned into disciples. With this Promotion Compet.i.tion, those that failed to prove their talent before had a new chance.

The Inner Ring would naturally capitalize on that. They started spreading rumors about the deeds of their scions, trying their best to reach as far as possible. They wanted to have their names reverberating through the Outer Sect, so not only would they have a crowd to support them in the compet.i.tion, they would also get people to bet on them.

The main interest of the Inner Ring in this Promotion Compet.i.tion were the bets and nothing more. Because their outstanding scion were already in the Inner Sect. Whoever was left now had a chance to get in too, but it would be nothing but profit.

The Abyss Sect would get a few more Inner Sect disciples, the Inner Ring would profit from the bets and the Outer Sect people would be entertained. Everyone would win something in this event.

Time slowly pa.s.sed, and the hall got crowded. The outside of h.e.l.l's Keeper Arena was crowded too, with thousands more compet.i.tors waiting by the gate and spectators finding their way in to take a seat.

The sound of chit chattering was so loud and chaotic it would hurt one's ears. It was at that moment that a calm and serene voice echoed through the hall, overwhelming all of the chaotic sound and silencing everyone.

"We will be starting the compet.i.tion in a few minutes." The voice spoke, seemingly directly in their ears. "You will all enter the respective arena following your numbers."

The golden gates that were closed started shuddering, and with a deafening howl, they slowly opened outwards. A blinding light shone in the hall as the gates opened, and the crowd started flooding in to the Arena.

Amon held Windhowler tightly, caressing the leather sheath as he made his way through the crowd.

"Oh, did I forget to mention?" Lya asked suddenly, almost making Amon jump.

"What?" He asked through gritted teeth, trying to m.u.f.fle the sound of his voice.

As he asked, Windhowler disappeared from his hands, leaving him grasping nothing but air.

"You are not allowed to use a sword until further notice." Lya said with a sneer, making Amon feel a chill. "Use this instead."

There was a flash of light and something fell in Amon's open palm. He looked at it with bloodshot eyes and an open mouth. She had to be kidding.

"If you imbue it with Qi properly, it won't lose to any other weapon, you know?" She said trying not to laugh.

Amon felt that Lya was really heartless. Where did she pull this torture from?

"Oh dear, every fight is a struggle." Amon could picture her smiling widely as she said that. "I will not let you have an unfair advantage over others regarding weapons in these first stages of the compet.i.tion."

"You make do with what you have." She said that and no more.

Amon was left alone, fuming as he looked at the stick in his hands.