Paragon of Sin

In a world of bitter cultivation, precious moments of undisturbed joy often went unnoticed amidst the sea of blood, sweat, stress, and tears. While the two Ascended beings celebrated, the Chosen of the New World were flustered, vigilant, fearful, angry, desperate, or dying.

"Ahhh!! Stop! STOP!! HELP ME!!!" A male Chosen roared as thorny vines enveloped him, encroaching upon every inch of his body with an ungodly vicious grip. The terrifying sounds of shattering bones, hellish screams, and the gushing spray of blood from their pores left one feeling horror.

He was young, extremely so, hopeful and inspired by the new era. But in all his youthful vigor, he never thought in his lifetime that he would experience this-death. His call for help had brought groups together at rapid speeds.

Unfortunately for the young man, no one made a move.

"Should we help?" A pretty female Chosen dressed in blue hurriedly asked, her eyes distressed at the violently slow death. She had the urge to act, but those who had arrived earlier, seemingly older Chosen, remained entirely still and merely watched on with pity in their gazes. A few had mirth in their smiles, shaking their heads and doing nothing else.

"Help? Go on," An older female Chosen gestured with a faint smile. "Go help," she said.

The pretty Chosen could sense the ill-intent within lier words. Her caution instantly elevated a few levels.

"ARGH!! HEL-HELP MEE!!!" The screams didn't stop, nor did the sounds of his bones being crushed, his blood spurting out of his orifices like jets. It was simply unbearable to witness. The Chosen's body already looked unrecognizable, surrounded by vines. It no longer seemed...properly shaped. All except his head, which exerted bursts of hectic Spiritual Light as he struggled.

More and more arrived. A few were about to act, but seeing those of higher cultivation bases remain still, they felt the event was suspicious. Was this a trap?

"What did he do?" The blue-robed female Chosen asked those around her. The older female Chosen gave her a look, inspecting her from head to toe, and her eyes glinted with a thinly concealed lust. Whether it was a mortal or a cultivation society, those attractive and of the fairer sex often received certain advantages.

The older female Chosen sighed emotionally, "He-"

Just as she was about to answer, someone came from hearing the call for help. When he arrived and saw dozens of cultivators acting as if they were audience members of a play, there was a pit of rage in his stomach. However, his inner righteousness surged in his hot-blooded heart, and he shot toward the vines, sword-in-hand.

A burst of Sword Force was unleashed, containing a profound Intent of wind. While it wasn't high-level or apex-level, it was still strong and acclaimed amongst mid-level Intents. The Sword Force sliced into the vines, easily splitting them into multiple segments while perfectly avoiding flesh and bones. His control was impeccable.

The male Chosen was garbed in white, seemingly taking inspiration from the tales of immortal swordsmen, and he rushed toward the vine to bring out the young Chosen caught by them. However, as he reached the body of the young Chosen, he was already dead. Not a single ounce of life was in their body, considerably different than before when they were lively and screaming at the peak of their lungs. Confused, he felt something was amiss.

"That." The older female Chosen pointed out with a pitiful gaze.

"Wha-?" The blue-robed woman was taken aback by that single-word statement that said so little yet implied so, so much. The white-robed Chosen's eyes flashed with spiritual light as he retreated. Unfortunately, it was too late!

By the time he got a few feet back, vines with a movement resembling the quickness of lightning had enveloped his limbs. He couldn't even swing his sword before he was held up, surrounded by a horde of rogue vines. They encapsulated him entirely, and as he tried to scream out, his mouth was muffled by the vine, even sealing his Spiritual Strength.

Instantly, he was helpless as his eyes bulged, his pants grew wet, and his heart pounded with the intensity of thunder. Yet even as he tried to execute a self-harming Empowerment Art to struggle free, he found his meridians, dantian, and joints entirely sealed. He dropped his sword. As a swordsman, that was taboo, and it indicated his uneventful end.

"MhnOmmmn!" His pleading voice was brief, and then the vines enveloped him completely, from head to toe. He vanished as the vine proceeded to sink into the ground without any indication of its existence aside from the corpse on the ground.

The older female Chosen shook her head, "In a few minutes, somewhere, likely a few thousand miles away, he'll be the new bait."

"...!" The blue-robed female Chosen started. She didn't know when, but the older female Chosen had moved right beside her, almost speaking into her ear. The sensation left her entire body oddly tingling. Moreover, after witnessing such a horror-filled event, she could barely muster a response in her shock.

WOOSH!

A slender figure moved with remarkable swiftness; they reached the discarded corpse, clearly having died more than ten minutes ago, and they grabbed at their spatial ring with practiced movements. After snagging it, they fled as fast as the wind.

No one chased after them. Those that could didn't feel the need, and those that could not could only watch in surprise at the theft.

"So, he's dead?" The blue-robed female Chosen asked in her daze.

"What else is he? Alive and enjoying a thousand beautiful virgins in some palace? Trying to be a hero in the cultivation world without intelligence is only a fool's errand with a death wish. Anyways, what's your name?" The older female Chosen couldn't help but chuckle at her naive question. This was the Chosen King Competition. Did people think it was some common experience where you simply showcased your powers and you'd be recognized?

What absolutely childish thinking! All opportunities had to be earned through a trial of blood, wit, and strength. Whether you ended up like those needy fellow's or seized the opportunity, all relied on your cultivated efforts thus far, including the honing of one's mind, instincts, and cultivation base.

A few minutes later, roughly seven thousand miles away, a white-robed Chosen was screaming at the top of their lungs in hellish pain, pleading to the heavens, earth, and any kind soul for help.

There, a crowd was forming of over three dozen. Shockingly, several figures who knew each other had gathered. "Sister Baozhai?" Na Xinyi called out.

Wu Baozhai was traveling alongside Yao Wei. Shortly after arriving, Xue Yifei went off on her own. While Wu Baozhai and Xue Yifei's relationship wasn't exactly terrible, there w'as a dynamic that was hard to describe between them. It heavily resembled a bond of rivalry forged by two fiercely competitive wills, but there was also something sisterly about it.

Despite the warmth that was present amidst the competitiveness, the two didn't wish to work as one unless necessary. They both wanted to show off the fruits of their labor to Wei Wuyin and receive a proper ranking in the competition without assisting each other.

Na Xinyi was traveling alongside her two Senior Sisters of the Dark Yin Palace.

"Sister Xinyi?" Wu Baozhai was astonished that they would meet, especially given the size of the planet and the number of cultivators throughout. The chances were quite low.

"You two?" Suddenly, a brunette-haired woman with eyes as blue as the vast ocean arrived. She was a nation-toppling beauty, not one wit inferior to Wu Baozhai, especially her bust size. When compared to Wu Baozhai and Na Xinyi, hers was ever so slightly superior.

"Sister Ziyan?"

"Sister Ziyan?!"

The two women were genuinely surprised! How long had it been?! Decades? So, so long!

Lin Ziyan!

The three women stole the attention away from the screams. No man or woman could look away as they gathered, as if the blessings of the heavens had been bestowed to them, sculpted into them as birth, destined to shake the world with their looks alone.

"Pitiful bastard," a new arrival uttered with a frown.

"...!" Na Xinyi, Wu Baozhai, and Lin Ziyan all experienced world-shaking tremors throughout their spines as they felt the aura of that voice. They turned toward it with shocked, disbelieving expressions. But their eyes froze when they saw the owner, seeing an aquamarine-robed man.

"I could've sworn..." Na Xinyi said.

"Sister Yu..." Lin Ziyan slowly murmured with emotional ripples.

"..." Wu Baozhai calmly stared at the man, her gaze affixed to his existence.

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