The ripple in the void spread with lightning speed. In an instant, it had overtaken the Sacred Beast Warhawk that was soaring with spread wings.

All movement from the colossal bird ceased instantly, as if struck by that legendary paralysis spell; it even forgot the instinctive motion of flapping its wings.

Upon its body, the miraculous white glow flared once more. But alas, the light power emanating from this Divine Artifact could not block the Dragon Might Roar inherited from the divine beast, the True Dragon.

After that single moment of pause, the Warhawk in the sky plummeted straight down.

"Thump..."

Dust billowed across the ground as the Warhawk, boasting a fifteen-meter wingspan when spread, crashed down—a sight of such magnitude that the earth itself was gouged with a deep crater.

Only at this moment did the Warhawk seem to regain a sliver of awareness. It struggled to move its body, attempting to stand. But its efforts proved futile; though it managed to prop itself up precariously on its two legs with the aid of its wings, after several wobbles, it inevitably collapsed back to the ground.

Except for He Yiming, none of the others could have predicted such an outcome.

Although Treasure Pig’s Dragon Might Roar was not directed at them, but rather aimed at the higher reaches of the sky, the residual shockwave still affected these powerful Venerables.

They were not Venerables of the Totem Clan, and without the influence of their companion Sacred Beasts, they naturally did not fall into a stunned stupor. Yet, even with their formidable martial cultivation, at that moment, their vision swam black, and they found their footing unsteady.

Fortunately, Treasure Pig’s roar was brief, ceasing immediately after knocking down the Warhawk. Thus, after taking several deep breaths, everyone quickly recovered.

Treasure Pig, standing mid-air atop a black cloud, descended with an air of triumph. It moved down as if treading on steps, its swine countenance split by a joyous, uncontainable grin.

He Yiming shook his head, reaching out to firmly grip the neck of the self-satisfied Treasure Pig, pulling it into his embrace.

For a moment, the gazes directed at him held a degree of strangeness.

Such a powerful Sacred Beast—perhaps only He Yiming would treat it with such casual disregard.

Had any other dominant power encountered Treasure Pig, they would have revered it like an ancestor, not hauled it about as if it were a large head of cabbage.

Patting Treasure Pig’s small head gently, He Yiming chuckled, "Good work, little fellow."

After a considerable pause, the Sacred Beast Warhawk finally managed to stand unsteadily. Its wings moved slowly, and at last, it lifted itself from the ground once more.

No one intervened. They simply watched the creature fly toward the center of the island.

If they had encountered an injured Warhawk in a desolate area, few here would have passed up such an opportunity. But under the current circumstances, no one could bring themselves to commit such an act.

Because it was clear this Warhawk had been sent on an errand to welcome guests. Despite its aggressively hostile demeanor, striking it down fatally seemed unwarranted.

He Yiming looked up, his tone becoming serious. "Everyone, I have a feeling this competition might not be simple. We should all remain cautious."

Jin Zhanyi sighed softly. "We cannot flee without a fight. Since it is so, we shall meet force with force, and water with earth. Let us see just how formidable these Western experts truly are."

The others nodded in agreement, turning toward the direction the Warhawk had flown, heading toward the island's heart.

In just a short while, they arrived at the island's center.

They had not hurried their pace. Upon arriving at this peculiar isle and spotting the Sacred Beast Warhawk, everyone had heightened their vigilance.

For these elders, most of whom were at least a century old, they preferred to slow their advance to meticulously survey the surrounding terrain. However, along their journey, they discovered no unusual signs, suggesting their initial estimation might have been mistaken—perhaps these Western powerhouses had merely chosen a remote island for their contest.

Climbing over a hill of modest height, the group clearly saw the figures ahead.

Before them stood ten individuals, among whom was Alfar, the one who had delivered the challenge that day. As their eyes swept over the group, they were surprised to find no trace of the injured Sacred Beast Warhawk.

Alfar stepped forward and announced in a clear voice, "You have proven yourselves men of your word. Alfar welcomes you to Star Island."

Li Jiangfeng laughed heartily, "Esteemed Alfar, Star Island is inherently unowned land. If you intend to reside here long-term, our Glazed Cave can dispatch personnel to help construct your residences."

Alfar's lips curved dismissively. "Your kindness is noted, but this place is better left for others to use."

The two groups eyed each other warily. Among the ten figures opposite them, He Yiming’s attention was completely captured by two individuals.

One was clad in a suit of heavy, ornate armor, holding a specially crafted helmet in his hands. This man appeared to be only in his early thirties, handsome, and possessed the distinguished grace of a mature man.

The eyes of the observers lingered on his armor. At their level of martial cultivation, few would choose to wear such cumbersome equipment. But the fact that this man wore it suggested it must possess unimaginable protective might.

The other figure drawing particular notice was a man of slender build, his face cold and stern, his eyes possessing no warmth, akin to the bitter winds of the Arctic.

This man stood at the very rear of the Western contingent, maintaining a distinct distance from everyone else, enveloped in an aura of icy remoteness that warned others away.

Alfar stepped forward to begin the introductions.

The sunny-tempered man in armor was Edwin, the newly ascended Venerable of the Western Pantheon. And the other figure who commanded special attention was Glinton, a newly ascended Venerable from the Dark Alliance.

In the Western world, the Pantheon and the Dark Alliance Council were undeniably the two behemoths. They were akin to the Lingxiao Palace and the Blessed Lands of the East, wielding the primary authority over the entire Western realm.

In the East, although the Yellow Springs Gate held considerable influence, the sect founded by the Yellow Springs Ancestor lacked the deep foundations of these true titans among the established powers.

When the delegation learned that these two hailed from the Pantheon and the Dark Alliance Council, a sense of resignation washed over them, coupled with the implicit understanding that these were the pinnacle talents meticulously nurtured by their respective forces.

Much like the Eastern Jin Zhanyi and the Qilian Twin Devils, these carefully cultivated powerhouses were certain to possess capabilities far beyond those of ordinary Venerables.

He Yiming’s gaze swept over the Western experts one by one. Inexplicably, he felt a strange sense of disharmony within his heart.

The number of Western powerhouses was not inherently suspicious; ten newly ascended Venerables were neither too many nor too few for the vast West. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, the demeanor and expressions of these individuals gave He Yiming an unsettling feeling.

His eyes suddenly brightened, his gaze—

The look in these men's eyes was profoundly strange, or rather, complex and unfathomable.

When they looked upon He Yiming’s group, they did not appear to be facing imminent enemies. Instead, they regarded them like sacrificial lambs awaiting slaughter, their expressions filled with pity. What was more baffling was that they made no effort to conceal this sentiment, displaying it with disconcerting frankness.

He Yiming exchanged glances with Jin Zhanyi and the others. Apart from He Yiming, the rest were seasoned veterans of the martial world, old foxes capable of discerning the strangeness of the men’s conduct, and they knew instinctively that some inscrutable trickery was at play.

No one spoke, nor were any gestures made, but the group instinctively drew closer together.

Their positions were strategically chosen; in that moment, they moved as a single entity, prepared to maximize their collective power in either attack or retreat.

Alfar and his party paused for a moment, then grasped the implication, yet they made no move to stop the consolidation. Instead, their expressions became laced with increasing scorn, as if mocking the futility of the opposing group's preparation.

Li Jiangfeng’s heart sank, but he forced a dry laugh and looked around. "Esteemed Edwin, I, Li, have long admired the great name of the Western Pantheon. Just now, we witnessed the Pantheon's Sacred Beast Warhawk. I wonder, where is that Sacred Beast now?"

Edwin stepped forward. Despite being encased in full armor, the suit was so exquisitely crafted that it seemed weightless upon him, in no way hindering his movements.

"Venerable Li Jiangfeng, our Pantheon Warhawk is the favored mount of our current Pontiff," the handsome Western man stated, his face impassive. "Your group grievously wounding the Pantheon Warhawk is an act of profound disrespect to the Pantheon, for which you should receive appropriate punishment."

The faces of the Eastern group paled dramatically. What horrified them was not the threat itself, but the realization that the Warhawk was the personal pet of the Pantheon’s Pontiff.

If the favored mount appeared here, then where was the mount’s master, the Pontiff of the Pantheon?

Everyone instinctively looked up and scanned the surroundings, but the area remained silent, without the slightest abnormal sound.

He Yiming took a deep breath, letting his spiritual sense expand fully.

The spiritual probing power of a Five Qi Grand Venerable was indeed incomparable to that of ordinary Venerables. In mere moments, He Yiming’s expression grew deeply troubled.

In his perception, there were indeed two faint, almost imperceptible auras behind the Western group.

One aura clearly belonged to the Pantheon Warhawk injured by Treasure Pig. Although this presence felt weak, its vital energy was significantly stronger than before, indicating it had received excellent care.

But what truly inspired awe in him was the second, equally faint aura.

This presence seemed far more frail than the injured Pantheon Warhawk, yet the moment He Yiming perceived it, his entire body trembled uncontrollably.

It was a terrifying aura—one that evoked in him the near-suffocating sensation he had felt when confronting the Yellow Springs Ancestor once more.