"Only the geniuses among geniuses are wanted."

"We need those possessing immense potential," capable of adapting to any environment, coupled with formidable combat prowess."

"Anyone else simply doesn't register in the eyes of the Central Dynasty."

"Furthermore, geniuses must possess a reasonably sound psyche; we have no need for the mentally fragile."

Zhou Zhongyong stated casually. Throughout his life, he had witnessed countless prodigies, especially since taking up the post guarding the Great Yong Nation. While the current batch was exceptionally brilliant, he understood deeply that the Central Dynasty would not alter its standards in the slightest because of them. This was the Central Dynasty.

Lofty, looking down upon all living beings.

After answering the query from the Three Kingdoms leader, Zhuo Lingyun, Zhou Zhongyong turned his gaze upon the twelve hundred geniuses. "Perhaps some of you still harbor dissatisfaction, but it is immaterial. The Central Dynasty will not care. Now, compose yourselves. You have half a day. After that, the second and final assessment begins, this time worth eighty points."

"This assessment is straightforward: direct confrontation."

"Within a constrained, relatively small arena, you will engage in multiple free-for-alls or one-on-one duels. The losers are eliminated."

"Rules this simple."

Twelve hundred geniuses! Direct combat in small arenas!

Such confined combat left no room for trickery. It was a brute-force clash.

Zhou Zhongyong stood with his hands clasped behind his back, anticipating the spectacle.

This time, it was a head-on collision! The fights promised to be spectacular. Twelve hundred geniuses, unleashing their life’s greatest techniques upon their opponents—thousands of ultimate skills at least.

Of the twelve hundred geniuses, save for a very small minority still sulking over the point revision, most had adjusted their mindsets. Some meditated, others sharpened their blades, all preparing their state for the direct confrontation that would begin in half a day—where defeat meant instant elimination.

The nearly hundred million spectators in the Eastern Territory, the nearly hundred million in the Western Territory, the nearly hundred million in the Southern Territory, and the nearly hundred million in the Northern Territory were all watching.

It was magnificent.

What an incredible battle this promised to be!

It turned out the earlier stages tested their adaptability to various environments—a necessary trial, certainly, but one lacking high entertainment value. True, direct combat, however, possessed explosive viewing appeal. Immediately, the masses erupted in excitement. The battles involving twelve hundred geniuses—the talents from the Four Territories and the Lost Lands!

How spectacular this would be!

It made the blood surge!

People from every territory cheered for their respective peerless geniuses. The East cheered for Fu Ying and others. The West roared for Gu Qiushui and his peers. The numerous nations of the South shouted encouragement through the Water Mirror Arts for Xiao Fengxiong, Yin Wuji, Guo Kan, Liu Guo, and Xukongzi.

Go!

Go!

Only the nation of Jin barely mustered shouts for Lu Yuan, as his earlier performance had greatly disappointed everyone. Just look at his rankings in the five prior environmental adaptation tests: only in adapting to the Central Dynasty’s ocean environment did Lu Yuan perform decently, ranking fifth. In the other environments? Look at Lu Yuan: twelfth place, nine hundredth place, three hundred and fiftieth place, two hundred and thirtieth place. Such rankings were truly disheartening.

Most people in the Southern Territory had begun to cheer for Lu Yuan, but too much disappointment choked the cries in their throats.

Only the people of Jin Nation still cried out for Lu Yuan. He was the sole remaining contender from Jin in the Hundred Nations Assessment. Despite his current poor standing, currently ranked over four hundredth, they couldn't help but support him.

However, because Lu Yuan was ranked over four hundredth, far fewer people believed he would win and enter the Central Dynasty. Only the people of Mount Hua remained steadfast in their conviction.

"Very well, let us commence the final battle before entering the Central Dynasty," Zhou Zhongyong stood elevated, hands behind his back. "Ten small arenas will be established simultaneously, allowing twenty combatants to fight at once. Twelve hundred advance to six hundred, six hundred to three hundred, and so on, fighting continuously. There are no rules; you may even strike with lethal intent."

"What is required here are true geniuses. Some of one's techniques are inherently deadly, unavoidable."

"However, for every person killed, one point will be automatically deducted from the final result."

These rules were well-devised. In the final assessment, every single point mattered immensely. Barring the specter of death or irreconcilable enmity, who would willingly forfeit a point? Therefore, lethal blows would generally be avoided unless absolutely necessary. If one encountered a situation demanding a death blow, they would simply have to accept the point deduction and proceed.

"Furthermore, the Central Dynasty has made its decision."

"Those ranked in the top twenty overall can freely choose which Civilization to enter."

"Those ranked in the top fifty overall can enter a Civilization."

"Those ranked between fiftieth and one hundredth can freely choose which Sect to join."

"Those ranked between one hundredth and four hundredth can join a Sect."

The ability to freely enter a Civilization was clearly the best treatment. The Central Dynasty hosted numerous Civilizations; entering one suited to one's growth meant rapid progress, far superior to being assigned arbitrarily. Of course, even without the freedom to choose, entering a Civilization was vastly better than joining a Sect.

Civilizations, after all, were significantly more prestigious than Sects.

And being able to select a Sect was preferable to not being able to choose.

This established four distinct tiers, forcing everyone into a desperate fight. Apart from these incentives, there were no other rewards, as none were needed. This was the ultimate prize: entering the Central Dynasty was worth a hundred, even a thousand times more than any heavenly materials, treasures, cultivation techniques, or secret manuals.

Lu Yuan listened to Zhou Zhongyong's words, his grip unconsciously tightening on the long sword in his hand. Yes, he needed to strive now, to secure a better standing.

The first round, reducing the twelve hundred to six hundred, was about to begin immediately.

The first round was essentially a warm-up. Never mind the top-tier experts at the Eighth Level of the Great Dao Realm; even those at the Seventh Level, such as Murong Huangfu and Shen Yu, could usually dispatch their opponents in a few moves under normal circumstances. The gap in strength among the current twelve hundred was immense.

Though this round involved only six hundred matches, they proceeded swiftly.

Grouped by ten matches at a time, they proceeded quickly until finally, Lu Yuan heard his name called. He placed a hand on his sword hilt and stepped onto the small arena.

Entering the small arena, Lu Yuan observed it was a stretch of grassland. Such turf allowed for virtually no fancy maneuvering; success relied almost entirely on inherent combat strength. Upon stepping in, Lu Yuan noticed a stately middle-aged man standing there, clad in luxurious robes that billowed elegantly. He possessed an extraordinary bearing, a handsome face, and his eyes sparkled with vitality.

"Southern Territory's Lu Jun versus Eastern Territory's Nian Lianwu."

"Young man, in this round, I rank nine hundred and thirty-seventh. Regrettably, practical combat power differs from environmental adaptation, and you are destined to be defeated by me," Nian Lianwu stated calmly. He carried a heavy sword, weighing several thousand catties, resting on his shoulder. Suddenly, Nian Lianwu attacked, his sword already thrusting toward Lu Yuan in an instant.

Lu Yuan blocked with his horizontal sword, feeling an immense surge of force in the impact.

"Boy, behold my 'Flowery Midst Sword Art'..." He struck again and again. Lu Yuan, however, wasn't rushed to defeat him; everything was still early stages. When facing a swordsman, he always preferred to spar a bit longer to examine the opponent's sword style—a natural affinity for the way of the blade.

This opponent’s sword was incredibly heavy, yet he wielded it with surprising speed. Sometimes, a strike landed with the weight of Mount Tai; other times, it was as light as a feather—quite bizarre. Moreover, when the opponent clashed, his eyes would close, and a mysterious yellow light would appear, seemingly trying to draw Lu Yuan in. This was the 'Soul-Capturing Immortal Art,' a demonic technique specifically designed to seize the will.

Nian Lianwu hailed from a rather prominent demonic sect in the Eastern Territory. The Demonic Gate's 'Flower Midst Sect' was an oddity, positioned precariously between demonic cultivation and immortal cultivation. He intended to enter the Central Dynasty this time and, seeing his opponent as a mere youth, held no reservations. He had cultivated his techniques for over six centuries and his swordplay for over six hundred years; he refused to believe he could be defeated by a junior.

This Nian Lianwu was genuinely powerful. In terms of strength, he was not beneath Zhuo Budang, the leader of the Original Qi Sect of Mount Hua, perhaps even slightly superior. Wielding his Profound Iron Heavy Sword, he brought forth the imposing momentum of 'Trampling Rivers and Shattering Mountains.'

"What an interesting sword technique!"

Lu Yuan exclaimed, thoroughly enjoying himself. He had never encountered Heavy Sword techniques before. He had heard that Liu Guo, Liu Gaizhi of the Ancient Tomb Nation, used a heavy sword style, but he never had the chance to witness it. Now, seeing Nian Lianwu’s heavy sword style—which seemed to combine the concepts of Earth-element sword arts with the Flying-element style—a fusion of multiple sword intents—Lu Yuan found it excellent.

Lu Yuan analyzed the sword art. The flaws in the Earth-element style were immediately apparent, holding no secrets. However, the Flying-element style deserved closer study; such swordwork should favor agility and lightness, the sword gliding up and down like a feather in the wind. Unconsciously, Lu Yuan followed Nian Lianwu’s movements through many exchanges.

Sword flashes moved as one, the resulting sword shadows dazzling and intricate.

One hundred moves had passed, and Lu Yuan felt a touch of boredom. He mused inwardly that he had essentially deciphered Nian Lianwu’s heavy sword style. This heavy-heavy style should inherently rely on brute force; it would be even more potent in the hands of someone possessing unmatched raw power. Nian Lianwu, not being inherently aggressive or fierce in nature, had adapted the style to his own characteristics. Unfortunately, this adaptation was flawed. Once the essence of the style was understood, Lu Yuan’s interest waned significantly.

"Runt, if you have the guts, stop fleeing!" Nian Lianwu shouted.

"Stop fleeing?" Lu Yuan’s long sword flickered, transforming into thousands of streams of light. This cluster of sword light appeared suddenly, like ocean waves or blooming night flowers. Before Nian Lianwu could react, the tip of his Nourishing Spirit Sword rested against his throat. Nian Lianwu’s heart sank into utter despair. Defeated so quickly? At first, he thought the junior was merely evading, but the opponent had clearly been playing with him.

This match concluded. Lu Yuan’s bout was the longest among the first ten groups.

To many observers, it appeared as if he had "luckily" defeated his opponent and "luckily" advanced to the top six hundred, given the excessive time consumed.