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Chapter 13 - Chapter 13: The Eight Great Heads

Chapter 13: The Eight Great Heads

News of Xiao Chen wagering ten thousand spirit stones on himself to win the outer sect tournament spread like wildfire throughout Wendao Academy.

Everywhere people gathered, this was the topic of discussion. Yet most of what was said was mockery and scorn.

"If a cripple like him can take first place, then all our years of cultivation were for nothing."

Amid the ridicule, Liu Yue'er stood silently. For once, she didn't argue back.

She muttered to herself, "Why would Senior Brother do something so strange?"

"Hmph," Tang Feng snorted beside her. "I think Senior Brother Xiao has lost his mind. Otherwise, he wouldn't boast like that."

Though he spoke disdainfully, he was already scheming in his heart how to face Xiao Chen in the first round.

If he could thoroughly crush Xiao Chen before everyone, maybe Liu Yue'er would finally stop holding onto memories of that cripple.

Liu Yue'er frowned. "Xiao Chen's matters are not yours to meddle in."

With that, she turned and left, weaving through the crowd in search of Xiao Chen's figure.

Watching her walk away, Tang Feng's eyes darkened with jealousy and anger.

While the outer sect disciples continued their chatter—

A number of figures suddenly flew through the sky.

The moment they appeared, the crowd fell silent and looked upward.

"Look! It's the heads of the institutes!"

"I've been in Wendao Academy for two and a half years, and I'm finally seeing all eight great heads in one place!"

"Wait, why eight? Isn't it supposed to be nine?"

"What's there to see in the Miscellaneous Dao Institute's head? If a fight broke out, I'd probably beat him."

"..."

The group of figures descended simultaneously onto the high platform.

And just as they landed, another figure soared through the air and landed beside them.

It was Chu Feng.

He hadn't taken the stairs like the others—instead, he waited until the others arrived, then leapt up in a single bound.

Of course, none of the disciples below noticed him at all—their eyes were glued to the imposing eight.

Standing beside the eight heads radiating overwhelming auras, Chu Feng, with just a few decades of cultivation, looked like a husky mixed into a pack of wolves.

As the eight heads appeared, the disciples below turned and bowed.

"We greet the esteemed heads!"

"You may rise."

The one who spoke was the Sword Institute's head—Xiaoyao Sword King.

Though he was already several hundred years old, he was in the Life Nirvana Realm. His body had undergone a second metamorphosis, making him look like a man in his forties or fifties.

Xiaoyao Sword King glanced over the crowd and spoke calmly, "I hereby declare the start of the Wendao Academy Outer Sect Tournament. Elder Changqing will now preside over the matches."

With that, he took the center seat among the nine chairs.

Chu Feng quietly found his seat on the far end. He didn't speak to anyone. First, he wasn't familiar with the others. Second, the other eight heads clearly looked down on him.

Elder Changqing gave a respectful nod to Xiaoyao Sword King, then stepped to the front of the platform and faced the crowd.

"Fellow disciples, I trust you've long awaited this once-every-three-years outer sect tournament.

Let me now explain the rules. The top ten participants will earn the right to enter the inner academy for further cultivation..."

He went on for a full half-hour, delivering the kind of long-winded speech only school administrators were capable of.

"Let the drawing of lots begin!"

With that, Elder Changqing returned to his seat.

At the same time, the lottery process officially started.

Up on the platform, the various institute heads began chatting among themselves.

"So, who do you all think will win this tournament?"

"Isn't that obvious? It has to be Lin Qingyu from the Sword Institute!"

The head of the Sword Institute spoke with a wide smile.

As soon as those words left his mouth, the other heads began chiming in.

"Old Jianwu, sounds like you're saying the rest of our disciples aren't even worth mentioning."

"That's right. Lin Qingyu is strong, sure—but that doesn't mean he's the strongest among the younger generation."

"Indeed..."

Chu Feng listened to them boast without the slightest urge to join in. Instead, he casually closed his eyes and leaned lazily on the rattan chair.

But of course, how could such a gesture escape the senses of the seated elites?

These other heads already had complaints about the Miscellaneous Dao Institute. To them, Chu Feng was a junior who only got to sit among them due to sheer luck.

They could accept his lack of greeting.

They could even tolerate his low cultivation.

But slouching there like a carefree rogue, without even pretending to maintain decorum?

If not for the presence of so many disciples, several of them would have already taught him a lesson.

"Little Feng, don't tell me you're not interested in the tournament?"

As soon as the voice rang out, all eyes turned toward Chu Feng.

He looked toward the source of the voice and saw an old man smiling at him.

Of course, he recognized the man—Xuanhuo, the Alchemy King, head of the Alchemy Institute, Wendao Academy's number one alchemist. Not only were his pill-refining skills superb, but he also possessed a strange fire, making him both a pill and martial arts dual expert.

Normally, if someone of that stature took the initiative to speak to him, Chu Feng would've responded with utmost humility.

But now, seeing that sly smile on the Alchemy King's face, a single thought popped into Chu Feng's mind: 'This old fox is definitely up to no good.'

"Of course I'm interested," Chu Feng replied with a lazy smile. "It's just that the tournament hasn't actually started yet, and as a junior, I can't really join in the conversation of seniors."

"No need to be so modest."

The Alchemy King smiled and said, "We're all just chatting to pass the time. Why don't you tell us—who do you think has the best chance of winning this time?"

'So that's how you want to play it? You're trying to drag me into this mess?'

Just moments ago, the other heads—except the one from the Heavenly Spirit Institute—were clearly sizing each other up. If Chu Feng chose a side now, he'd surely get verbally beaten down.

But Chu Feng wasn't the type to back down from a fight.

He smiled and said, "Naturally, I'm placing my hopes on my senior disciple, Xiao Chen. After all, he used to be one of the Sword Institute's top prodigies, and now, under my personal guidance, it'd be strange if he didn't win."

Dead silence followed.

All the institute heads looked at him in stunned disbelief.

The Alchemy King stroked his beard and chuckled, "You sure know how to brag. Even I couldn't heal Xiao Chen's injuries. That boy probably doesn't even have a sliver of cultivation left."

"He's not a body cultivator either. Just making it through the first round will be tough—never mind winning first place."

The outer sect tournament was a single-elimination format. One loss and you were out.

Aside from the ten seeded contestants who had special rights to skip the first round, everyone else had to battle from the very beginning.

The heads didn't bother to argue. Instead, they simply shot Chu Feng dismissive glances, as if even speaking another word to him would lower their status.

Chu Feng, unfazed, smiled and said, "If Alchemy King doesn't believe me, how about we place a little bet?"

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