Above the arena, the spectator stands were divided into tiers.
At the highest level sat the Imperial Pavilion, adorned with golden drapes and phoenix motifs.
There, high officials and powerful guards gathered—along with a particular figure dressed in dark red imperial robes.
A hush spread across the stadium.
“That’s the First Prince!”
“He’s the Imperial Family’s representative?”
“Prince Yu Zidi… Pity that in the Desolate Heaven Empire, just being the First Prince isn’t enough to become Crown Prince.”
…
Indeed, unlike many of the neighboring Empires, just being born first meant nothing in the Desolate Heaven Empire.
To become Crown Prince or Princess, one must prove they are capable of bearing that title.
If one of the princes or princesses had seized the Immortal Emperor’s Inheritance, they would have been crowned the next heir and eventually the Emperor.
But of course, that didn’t happen, and the seat of the Crown Prince was still empty—despite the rumors about the Emperor’s failing health.
The First Prince’s eyes scanned the arena with excitement and calculation.
This was a gathering not just of the future of the Desolate Heaven Empire, but of individuals with vast connections—those who could become tomorrow’s powerhouses.
If he couldn’t find the right opportunity to win them over, becoming Emperor would become an increasingly distant possibility.
To his right sat representatives from various noble houses.
To his left, several ministers accompanied him.
Although he hadn’t become Crown Prince despite being the eldest, it wasn’t as though he lacked advantages.
In areas like education, cultivation, and networking—he had a significant head start over his siblings.
Just being sent as a representative of the Emperor also proved that he was much closer to the title of Emperor than his other siblings.
Then there was the other VIP section, reserved for the major sects and clans like the Bai, Li, and Zhao Clans, alongside the Heaven Sword Sect, Crimson Thunder Palace, Azure Sun Holy Sect, and Celestial Jade Hall.
Many eyes drifted upward—it was rare to see such figures in person at other times.
Some of the elders were once legends in their own right, and the air buzzed with murmurs and nostalgia.
Many of these elders had themselves participated in the Dragon and Phoenix Competition in their youth, adding to the atmosphere’s weight.
“I still remember when I made my debut on this stage.”
“Haha… You mean when you got taken out in one strike?”
“T-That… is because my opponent happens to be Bai Tiancheng!”
…
Laughter echoed lightly between sips of spirit wine and murmured commentary.
Just then—
A faint breeze stirred.
But like the stillness before a blade is drawn, the entire arena seemed to shift.
A single figure, clad in deep black and white robes trimmed with faint silver, stepped casually into the Bai Clan’s reserved pavilion.
No grand entrance.
No fanfare.
Just a quiet arrival.
Yet, one by one, heads turned.
From the nobles in the lower stands to the elders above—even the ministers seated beside the First Prince subtly leaned forward.
Bai Zihan had arrived.
His steps were relaxed, almost lazy, as if the entire spectacle bored him.
Yet the air around him carried a kind of subdued sharpness—like a divine blade still sheathed.
He didn’t speak as he passed the Bai disciples.
He didn’t bow to the elders.
He simply walked up to the center seat of the Bai Clan’s viewing area—the one meant for the Clan Leader—and sat down.
No one stopped him.
No one questioned it.
Even Elders known for their strict adherence to protocol, gave only a silent nod of acknowledgment.
There was no announcement, no declaration.
But in that moment, it became clear to everyone—
In the absence of Bai Tianheng…
Bai Zihan was the one in command.
It wasn’t forced.
It wasn’t arranged.
It was natural.
As if the Bai Clan, consciously or not, had already accepted him as their next patriarch.
“Haha… Zihan’er, you’ve come!”
One of the elders chuckled, his tone warm yet laced with respect.
Bai Zihan offered a slight nod, his expression calm.
“Father asked me to represent the Bai Clan,” he said lazily. “Since I was already here, I figured I might as well.”
Their gazes then shifted to the unfamiliar youth standing quietly behind Bai Zihan.
“And this one?”
An elder asked, eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity.
The young man straightened, his nerves barely hidden despite his effort to appear composed.
He stepped forward and cupped his fists respectfully.
“Elders, I am Kong Zhanghong. I serve Young Master Zihan.”
His voice was steady, though his back was damp with sweat.
The elders gave him a cursory glance, then quickly lost interest.
A few nodded absently, while others didn’t bother acknowledging him at all.
To them, he was merely a servant—who he was didn’t matter. As long as Bai Zihan brought him, that was enough.
The elders also didn’t bring up the matter of Bai Zihan inviting Nie Fengzhuo to the Bai Clan, as they trusted he had his reasons.
After all, that much was already evident from his decision to bring Lin Xuan into the clan—an act considered one of the greatest investments Bai Zihan had ever made.
Across the pavilion, expressions darkened.
From the side of the Li and Zhao Clans, the atmosphere turned visibly colder the moment Bai Zihan took his seat.
Several elders narrowed their eyes, their faces tightening with disdain. One scoffed beneath his breath, voice laced with venom.
“He doesn’t even bother to greet his elders. Arrogant to the bone!”
Another leaned closer, lips curled in contempt.
“Hiding behind his reputation, is he? Must be afraid. Otherwise, why isn’t he participating?”
A few sharp laughs followed—quiet, bitter.
“He acts like he’s already won. Typical Bai Clan arrogance.”
But for all their bravado, there was an unspoken truth none of them dared admit aloud: none truly believed he was afraid or weak.
If anything, the fact that Bai Zihan had come just to watch but nore participate made it clear—he saw this competition as beneath him.
They could mock.
They could insult.
But they couldn’t ignore him.
On the sect side—
The elders of the Crimson Thunder Palace visibly frowned.
Their disciple, once hailed as one of the top geniuses, had perished at Bai Zihan’s hands in the Ancient Ruins.
And to make things worse, they couldn’y do anything, as Bai Zihan continued to threaten the lives of their remaining disciples.
With one already dead, they dared not risk another.
This was the same for nearly every sect and clan whose members had been present in the ruins.
In the Azure Sun Holy Sect’s pavilion, several younger disciples shifted uneasily.
Bai Zihan’s name still echoed in the nightmares of many who had survived that expedition.
One was the image of him humiliating and toying with Mo Tianji; the other was him casually killing a genius from the Crimson Thunder Palace in an instant.
Everyone understood—even if they didn’t say it out loud—that despite his youth, Bai Zihan was more cunning, more dangerous, than any genius of his generation.
He stood above them.
Even First Prince Yu Zidi raised a brow.
“So that’s him,” he murmured, his voice a mix of interest and caution.
“Doesn’t look like much…”
But he knew better.
His younger sibling had gone to attend Bai Zihan’s birthday just last year, hoping to draw him to their side.
He also knew that even his notoriously man-hating sister had offered marriage to win him over.
That alone said everything.
So of course, Yu Zidi wanted him too—if his siblings valued Bai Zihan so highly, how could he not?
Though he looked unassuming beyond his striking appearance, it only took one glance at the faces around him to realize otherwise.
He inspired either fear, hatred, or admiration—and sometimes, all three at once.
Yu Zidi found it a pity that he couldn’t properly assess the young man’s strength, since Bai Zihan wasn’t participating.
He had investigated everything to try and bring him over—but there wasn’t much he could do.
He tried to find people Bai Zihan cared about or loved, hoping to use them as leverage. But the results were disappointing.
His parents?
Perhaps since it’s quite normal but don’t know for certain about Bai Zihan. But even so what can be do with that info?
Threatening or manipulating the Desolate Heaven Empire’s strongest clan’s leader?
If he had that kind of power, why would he even need Bai Zihan?
His mother?
No slouch either. A Rank 6 Alchemist—one of the best in the Empire.
His sister?
Not much attachment there. Especially not after Bai Zihan recruited her ex-fiancé right under her nose. If anything, that just proved how little he cared.
His fiancée?
Merely a title. No romance. Just a political, arranged engagement.
His enemies?
Countless!
But unlike with others, he couldn’t offer Bai Zihan protection from them in exchange for allegiance.
Doing so would mean potentially opposing the Li and Zhao Clans—forces he might one day need on his side.
Treasure?
Would someone like Bai Zihan even lack any?
Rumors say he wields a Heaven-grade sword and has even rewarded his servant with an Earth-grade artifact.
That sounded outrageous, but even if only half were true, it said a lot.
After all his investigations, he had come to only one conclusion:
Never make Bai Zihan your enemy.
No matter how powerful you were—none ended up in a good state after opposing him.