As Nie Kong stepped through the rear door of the expansive hall, the vista before him shifted dramatically.

A sheer, steep stone wall stood sentinel behind the "War Heart Hall." At the base of this wall, an aperture had been carved out—approximately three meters wide and five meters high—from which brilliant light streamed, making it seem as bright as day.

Watching figure after figure enter the stone cavern ahead, Nie Kong felt a pang of surprise. The passage looked straight and extended quite a distance inward. He hadn't expected the "War Spirit Listening Altar" to be situated deep within the mountain range!

"That's right, the 'War Spirit Listening Altar' is inside the mountain's belly." Seemingly sensing Nie Kong’s confusion, Zhan Tianlun offered a slight smile, then gently patted Nie Kong’s shoulder. "Brother Nie Kong, I am truly looking forward to your performance later. I hope you can obtain a very fine Spirit Art."

With that, Zhan Tianlun strode confidently toward the front of the group.

What kind of Spirit Art one obtained had little to do with his own performance, Nie Kong mused with a shake of his head and a small laugh. He followed the procession into the stone tunnel. The hollow sound of footsteps echoed booming in the passage. After walking for about fifteen minutes, a series of ascending staircases began to appear, and at the end of that passage, a faint red glow flickered in the distance.

Noticing the footsteps ahead quicken, Nie Kong also increased his pace.

Not long after, the last step passed beneath his feet, and Nie Kong’s view suddenly opened up. Only then did he realize that the hundred or so War Clan disciples and the disciples of other surnames were all gathered within a circular space spanning several tens of meters.

In the very center of that space stood a small circular dais. Its side walls, rising over a meter high, were shrouded in inky black, deathly energy. Above the dais, a brilliant red light shone—this must have been the source of the red glow Nie Kong had glimpsed in the passage below.

"The War Spirit Listening Altar!" At that moment, those words flashed through the minds of the War Clan disciples almost simultaneously, their faces unable to conceal their overwhelming excitement.

Previously, they had successfully condensed the "Nine Great Nether Stars," and since then, they had been cultivating the "Heart Concentration Art." Although their elders possessed far more potent Spirit Arts, they dared not let the younger generation practice them rashly, as no one knew if those Arts would suit them.

If one practiced a Spirit Art that was not sufficiently compatible with oneself, it would surely have a major impact on their future prospects. Therefore, these War Clan disciples had long awaited this mysterious "War Spirit Listening Altar," and today their wish was finally coming true.

In contrast, the expressions of the disciples of other surnames were far more complex: excitement, tension, curiosity, apprehension...

A torrent of various emotions surged forth, causing their breathing to become noticeably heavier. The rewards of this day would determine their future standing within the War Clan, and at this moment, they felt the stakes even more acutely than the War Clan children.

"Boom!"

A sudden roar reverberated through the circular space.

Everyone who had been lost in thought was instantly jolted awake. They focused their gazes and saw that Patriarch Zhan Yunlan had, at some unknown time, arrived beneath the "War Spirit Listening Altar." His right palm danced in the air, resembling a butterfly flitting among blossoms.

"Hiss! Hiss!"

"Ah..." Beams of tangible, inky black aura shot out from his fingertips, piercing the deathly energy shrouding the dais like sharp swords, vanishing swiftly. The sharp sound of air being sliced rose and fell incessantly, drifting around the ears of the crowd, weaving into a marvelous melody.

After a while, Zhan Yunlan's right palm abruptly paused.

"Rumble!" The ground began to tremble violently, quite unexpectedly.

The War Clan disciples, already aware of what was happening, showed no change in expression. However, the disciples of other surnames stared at the dais with no small measure of astonishment. Accompanying the rumbling sound, the inky black death energy enveloping the dais's side walls began to fluctuate violently.

In an instant, the death energy directly in front of Zhan Yunlan suddenly surged outward to both sides. Murmurs of surprise erupted, and only then did the disciples of other surnames realize that the "War Spirit Listening Altar" was actually floating in the void, like a duckweed adrift.

"Crack! Crack..."

The ground appeared to be fracturing, one sound following another in quick succession. Before the eyes of the onlookers, tiers of black steps eerily rose from the earth, extending into the air, and in the blink of an eye, connected with the "War Spirit Listening Altar." Immediately afterward, the displaced death energy rolled back from both sides, flowing faintly as it encircled the dais.

"Crack!" Almost simultaneously, amidst the continuous sound of breaking, a section of a red pillar slowly erected itself from the "War Spirit Listening Altar." After about a minute, the sound abruptly ceased, and the pillar revealed its complete form.

It stood two meters tall and was the size of a washbasin. The surface of the pillar was etched with fine, intricate lines, both bizarre and conspicuous. At this moment, the pillar shimmered with a soft glow, and the lines upon it seemed to have come alive, radiating an aura of profound mystery.

"The War Spirit Altar is open! The Listening Ceremony is about to commence! Everyone must remember: once you ascend the platform, you only need to relax your body and open your mind. Beyond that, do nothing, and under no circumstances should you resist!" Under Zhan Yunlan's instruction, an elder spoke with solemnity. "Otherwise, the Spirit Art you obtain might not be perfectly suited to your own condition—regret will be too late then!"

"Yes!"

The crowd sobered, responding with a resounding affirmation.

Nie Kong called out along with them, but his heart was filled with hesitation. Relaxing the body was manageable, but opening one's mind without any resistance? If someone were to invade, wouldn't his secrets likely be exposed?

Yet, the War Clan had been doing things this way for thousands of years. In such a setting, raising an objection now would clearly be inappropriate. Fortunately, he was ranked sixty-something, so it wouldn't be his turn immediately; he could only wait and react accordingly when the time came.

With a silent sigh, Nie Kong finally settled his thoughts.

"One!"

Just then, Zhan Tianlun loudly unfurled a long paper scroll in his hand and uttered a single number.

"Zhan Rufeng!" A sturdy young man, already prepared, spoke as Zhan Tianlun’s voice faded. He eagerly called out his name and stepped out from the crowd, bowing respectfully toward Zhan Yunlan and the others beside the "War Spirit Listening Altar."

Zhan Tianlun nodded slightly, glanced at the scroll, and a rapid stream of numbers flowed from his mouth: "Fifty-nine, forty-three, three!"

Everyone clearly understood what these numbers signified. "Fifty-nine" meant that when the youth named Zhan Rufeng first entered the "War Sound Hall," he had held out through the "Fifty-ninth War Sound." "Forty-three" meant he had listened to the forty-third drum beat, and the final "three" indicated that Zhan Rufeng was currently a third-tier Black Spirit Master.

Originally, War Clan disciples were not required to announce their performance in the "War Sound Hall" or their current cultivation level before ascending the "War Spirit Listening Altar." However, in recent years, as the War Clan began incorporating disciples from outside families, this extra step was added to give the War Clan disciples a more direct understanding of the outsiders.

"Ascend the platform!"

"Yes!" After receiving Zhan Tianlun’s acknowledgment, Zhan Rufeng, invigorated, crossed the nine steps in two strides and leaped onto the "War Spirit Listening Altar." He immediately sat cross-legged on the ground, closed his eyes, and his body rapidly relaxed.

For a moment, all eyes were fixed on Zhan Rufeng.

Only a few seconds passed before the lines on the pillar's surface seemed to gain sentience, rapidly crawling toward the top of the cylinder. In the next instant, a flash of red light appeared, and the accumulated lines transformed into a dense mass of red aura that rushed out of the pillar.

At first, it coiled tightly around Zhan Rufeng's body like a spiritual serpent. Instantly, the patch of red light dispersed outward, enveloping Zhan Rufeng entirely like a thin, red robe. The brilliant glow illuminated his face until it shone crimson.

This scene was something the War Clan disciples had heard described countless times and were already used to. But the first-time disciples of other surnames watched with bated breath, not daring to blink, feeling they were witnessing an eye-opening spectacle.

Nie Kong was no exception; he watched Zhan Rufeng on the platform without looking away. However, after the red light covered Zhan Rufeng’s body, Nie Kong's brow knitted slightly, and a sliver of doubt rose irrepressibly from the depths of his heart.

"Red Robe," he muttered silently, and his heart gave a sudden jolt. He abruptly recalled the giant lying beneath War God Mountain, who was also clad in a red robe. Connecting the two, Nie Kong realized that the shape of the red aura covering Zhan Rufeng’s body was exactly identical to the red robe he had sensed in the "War Sound Hall" yesterday.

The only difference between them was the size.

..."War Spirit Listening Altar,"... Do the words "War Spirit" perhaps refer to that giant deep within the Nether Source?"

Such a thought involuntarily surfaced in Nie Kong's mind, giving him a severe headache.

Yesterday, upon listening to the "Ninety-Nine War Sound," his spirit body had entered the War Clan Nether Source, where he heard the call of that red-robed giant. Although Nie Kong had ultimately fled, the sensations he experienced at that time still left him apprehensive.

If the red aura on the "War Spirit Listening Altar" truly belonged to that giant, who knew what unforeseen incident might occur when he stood on the platform later?

Nie Kong’s mind raced, and soon he discovered another anomaly: the final stretch of the passage below consisted of eighty-one steps, and the "Heart Drum War Sound" in the War Sound Hall also consisted of eighty-one beats. Could this merely be a coincidence?

He cautiously glanced around for a moment. Seeing that everyone was still focused on Zhan Rufeng on the platform, Nie Kong suddenly felt the urge to exchange views with someone. An individual's perception might be flawed, but mutual verification would be different.

Of those residing within him, the "Nether Fire Dark Spring" inside the Spirit Suppressing Jade Bottle was the first to be eliminated. The remaining options were only the little fellow and Qingyue.

"Ya-ya-ya?"

Sensing the mental impulse Nie Kong sent, the little fellow shook its small flower bud, then vaguely rolled over in the Spiritual Mind Acupoint, continuing its slumber. Its tender roots occasionally scratched against the side wall of the acupoint.

Nie Kong was quite exasperated. The little fellow had become increasingly lethargic since entering the Nether Soil, only showing true vigor once when absorbing the Nether Pill on Fubo Mountain.

With no alternative, Nie Kong dismissed the little fellow and sent a thought toward the "Qingyue Illusory Heart Orchid" residing in the beast tablet: "Qingyue..."