Chapter 130

The end of the Bread Games was approaching. There had been eighty-three different events, and the Moon Lotus World had claimed forty-two gold medals, all of them won by Grandpa Vremya. As for the forty-one other events, he couldn’t compete in them because he wasn’t a woman. As for why the woman of the Moon Lotus World did so poorly, well, they were deemed as steroid users and were consequently disqualified from the games. The final event was a comprehensive test meant for cultivators.

Since ancient times, people had always prided themselves on creating the most elaborate graves they could to leave their belongings behind to a worthy descendant. The most popular versions were large, confusing structures filled with traps and formation puzzles. Through these traps and formations, the owner of the grave could filter out the weak and stupid, nearly guaranteeing someone strong and smart would obtain the legacy. Of course, only benevolent rogue cultivators left behind elaborate graves like those. Whenever a grave was discovered, there’d be a huge hubbub with people coming in from all around to compete for the legacy. Nowadays, less and less graves were being left behind. There were multiple reasons behind why, but they didn’t really matter. All that mattered was some people missed the thrill of competing in those graves, pitting their wits and strength against their fellow cultivators to see who’d be more successful in the end. As such, those people petitioned the Bread Games committee, and the Legacy-Obtaining Trial was born.

Azalea sat with her arms crossed, waiting for the event to start. When Grandpa Vremya began his winning streak, the Moon Lotus Sect decided to broadcast the Bread Games for the people of the Moon Lotus World. Although the Moon Lotus World had been connected to the intergalactic society for a while now, not everyone had a computer. In fact, most of the residents of the planet were entirely unaffected by the connection made with the rest of the intergalactic society. It was only the cultivators and the rich nobles who were connected. Everyone else still slaved away in mediocre conditions, hoping to become cultivators or nobles through their hard work and determination.

At first, people were terrified when giant screens appeared in the sky. When images and words appeared on them, the people were still terrified but less confused. After a bit of thinking, the residents realized cultivators could command the oceans and split mountains with their will, so why couldn’t they create visions beyond the clouds? It made perfect sense, so they stopped questioning it and enjoyed the broadcast instead.

“There’s Elder Vremya!” a young disciple said, pointing at the screen. “Do you think he’s going to win?”

“Of course, he’s going to win,” another disciple said. “He’s already taken the gold medal for every event he’s competed in.”

“It’s no wonder why he’s the only male who’s been accepted into the sect,” another outer disciple said. “With his talent, even the Moon Lotus Sect would break their rules for him.”

“Actually, Ancestor Rachel abolished the rule of recruiting women only,” another disciple said, glad to have a chance to flex her knowledge on someone. “Men can join the sect too, but the standards are just too high.”

“Be quiet, it’s starting!”

The plaza settled down, all the members of the Moon Lotus Sect staring up at the screen suspended in the air. All of the competitors had been placed inside of a large room with nothing inside of it. When the competition began, formation lines lit up along the ground, walls, and ceiling of the room. Within seconds, grass grew out of the ground, the walls expanded to a wide and vast prairie, and the ceiling shot upwards until it became a sky. Black clouds appeared out of nowhere, turning the sky dark. Lightning crackled, snaking from one end of the horizon to the other in one continuous chain with multiple branches. The first test was a brutal one meant to eliminate the weak. Two hundred years after the Bread Games had begun, due to armchair athletes bragging about how they could do better than the athletes who trained for decades, an amendment was made to the games. Ordinary people were allowed to join the events, serving as a perfect foil for the gold-medal athletes. Cultivators from all over had signed up for the Legacy-Obtaining Trial, and now, they were ruthless being filtered out. The lightning fell like rain. There was nowhere to hide. One could only endure the bombardment, but no one knew how long it would last.

Grandpa Vremya was unbothered. The lightning wasn’t strong enough to harm a nascent-soul cultivator as long as they properly protected themselves with spiritual energy. However, with the training Grandpa Vremya had done to his body, he didn’t even need to use spiritual energy to protect himself. As for pulling out a defensive artifact, that wasn’t possible. The theme of the trial this time was a great spacial cultivator’s inheritance. All interspatial objects ceased to function within the tomb, and everyone’s equipment were magically swapped out with simple garments. Weapons and artifacts could only be obtained from the competition itself and not brought inside. It was a bit unfair to those who used unique weapons not commonly seen, but being the minority, those unique-weapon user’s opinions were heard and promptly ignored.

“Why isn’t Ancestor Rachel competing?” a disciple asked. “If she were there, she’d wipe out the majority faster than the lightning.”

“False immortals have better things to do than chase after fame,” another disciple said. “What I don’t understand is why isn’t Elder Vremya beating everyone up?”

“I can answer that,” Azalea said, her voice causing all the whispering to cease. “Elder Vremya’s heart follows a domineering path. He once told me the greatest way to defeat your enemy was to not fight them at all. His bearing is enough to dissuade people from attacking him.”

A disciple pointed up at the sky. “Doesn’t it look like those people are grouping up to attack Elder Vremya?”

Azalea’s expression darkened as she shifted her gaze onto the screen. Indeed, there was a group of individuals grouping up and heading in Grandpa Vremya’s direction. Azalea recognized all of them; after all, they were the second-place individuals who had to stand next to Grandpa Vremya and smile for the camera despite having watched their dreams be snatched away by an old man with a very smug expression on his face. It was enough to infuriate anyone, and it was no surprise as to why they would target him. Thanks to the second-place individuals spearheading the movement, the other competitors, who were capable of dealing with the lightning, turned their gazes onto Grandpa Vremya as well. Now would be the best time to deal with him. No matter how strong he was, he was still just an unarmed individual.

Grandpa Vremya raised an eyebrow when the hostile glares landed in his direction. One individual stepped ahead of the rest. A bolt of lightning struck his head, but he remained unfazed. “Isn’t this great?” the man asked. “You managed to beat me in the individual duels because of your modified battlesuits, but now, you don’t have them.” He cracked his knuckles and grinned. “I don’t care how strong your body is, it can’t compare to my spiritual energy!”

“How despicable!” a Moon Lotus Sect disciple said, shaking her fist at the screen. It was quite obvious she hadn’t begun severing her emotions yet. “Isn’t he a soul-seed cultivator? There aren’t any other soul-seed cultivators competing, so why is he there?”

“He’s an independent cultivator,” Azalea said. “Most soul-seed cultivators are affiliated with one of the three powers. Of course, they won’t broadcast their strengths for everyone to see; they’re strategic weapons. That man is just an individual lucky enough to make it past the peak of nascent soul.”

“Isn’t Elder Vremya just a nascent-soul cultivator? Will he be okay?”

Azalea furrowed her brow. “He’ll be fine.” Of course, Grandpa Vremya would be fine. He was never not fine. However, Azalea didn’t see a way for him to get out of his current situation without his battlesuit golems. Would he really be fine? Although he survived an encounter with a false immortal, Azalea didn’t think Grandpa Vremya would be capable of killing a soul-seed cultivator with words. There wasn’t a tribulation they had to undergo!