All eyes were on Devor. To the crowd, he stood out like a sore thumb among the newly assembled Foundation Building team. While the others radiated confidence, their combat skills and expertise far surpassed that of a mere Qi Refining cultivator like him.

  "Wait a second... isn't he the Spiritual Farmer who screwed up the Spiritual Garden last year?" a disciple whispered, loud enough for those nearby to hear.

  "Oh, right! I almost forgot about that mess. Devor Li, wasn't it?" another chimed in, voice dripping with sarcasm.

  "Why would Senior Versti pick someone like him? His reputation is a joke," someone else added, their tone mocking.

  The whispers quickly spiraled into a flurry of judgment, each word slicing deeper into Devor’s composure. He stood tall, but his fists clenched at his sides, their words pricking at his resolve like tiny needles.

  The Spiritual Garden incident, though nearly a year old, was still fresh in many minds. Some suspected it had been a setup, but most preferred to revel in the scandal rather than seek the truth. After all, drama was always more exciting than facts.

  Seated in the VIP section, Yulin and Liara exchanged a glance, their annoyance clear. They knew the truth about what had happened—that Devor had been unfairly blamed—but they were well aware the crowd wouldn't listen to reason.

  "Idiots," Yulin muttered, her fists tightening in frustration. Her usual calm demeanor cracked under the weight of their baseless gossip.

  Meanwhile, Versti remained unfazed by the growing noise. His calm, authoritative voice cut through the crowd like a razor. “If anyone here thinks they can outdo Devor Li in Spiritual Farming, step forward and prove it. If you win, his position is yours.”

  The arena fell silent. The Sect Master’s earlier rules still hung in the air—anyone could challenge the captains’ choices, but doing so meant risking their pride in front of thousands.

  That silence didn’t last long.

  “I’ll take him on!” a disciple near the front called out, stepping forward with a gleam of eagerness in his eyes.

  “Count me in!” another said, his voice dripping with disdain as he joined the others.

  “Me too!”

  One by one, challengers stepped forward, their confidence growing with each new arrival. Soon, eight disciples stood in the arena, their gazes fixed on Devor with open hostility.

  Devor felt the weight of their stares, but instead of crumbling, he took a deep breath. The initial wave of panic had passed, leaving only quiet determination in its place.

  With steady hands and a calm expression, Devor met the eyes of his challengers. His heart raced, but his resolve was stronger than ever. This was his moment to prove himself—not just to the crowd, but to the Sect that had doubted him.

  “It’s now or never,” Devor thought, gripping the hilt of his simple sword.

  The disciples leaped onto their flying swords, soaring through the air with effortless grace before landing smoothly on the arena floor. A wave of anticipation swept through the stands as the challengers took their positions across from Devor.

  Versti moved his hands with fluid precision, his motions smooth and deliberate as he eased himself downward. At the same time, he controlled Devor’s flying sword with practiced skill, keeping it steady beneath Devor, who stood firmly balanced on top of it. They descended together, landing in the center of the field with flawless coordination—graceful and silent, like eagles alighting on a branch.

  Versti was the first to land, his movements precise and controlled, as if gravity itself yielded to his authority. Devor followed closely behind, his landing less graceful but steady nonetheless.

  The eight challengers lined up before them, each radiating confidence. Among them, Devor spotted a familiar face—Sugu. His sharp features twisted in surprise upon seeing Devor among the chosen. Clearly, he hadn’t expected Versti to pick someone like him.

  Versti raised a hand, silencing the crowd and signaling the challengers to wait. His commanding voice cut through the air, stopping any questions before they could form. “Follow me,” he said simply, glancing at Devor.

  Devor nodded and fell into step behind him. His shoulders were squared, his face calm, though the whispers that followed him were impossible to ignore.

  When they reached the center of the arena, Versti turned to face the crowd, his voice booming across the stadium. “This duel will not follow the traditional one-on-one format,” he announced, his tone unwavering.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  The challengers froze, exchanging confused glances. A few stepped forward, about to protest, but Versti’s icy stare shut them down in an instant.

  “Anyone who wishes to challenge Devor Li, step forward now,” Versti announced, his voice slicing through the tension. “All of you will face him at once.”

  Gasps rippled through the crowd. Even the boldest challengers hesitated, their confidence faltering as unease took its place.

  Devor’s breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t expected this—eight challengers, all likely more experienced than him, and he had to face them all at once?

  The challengers, once uncertain, began to move. They soared toward Versti on their flying swords in a steady stream. What had started as a handful of challengers quickly grew into a sea of determined disciples, their shared confidence buzzing in the air. Above them, the crowd erupted, their excitement reverberating through the massive arena like the roar of an incoming storm.

  In no time, over seventy challengers stood ready to prove themselves.

  Versti, unfazed by the growing number, raised a hand to silence the arena. His presence alone turned the noise into a distant murmur.

  "Given the overwhelming number of challengers," Versti said, his voice steady yet cutting, "I’ll show you why I chose Devor Li. If any of you can surpass his achievements, the position is yours."

  The crowd shifted, their faces alight with curiosity. What could Devor, a mere Qi Refining cultivator with a tarnished reputation, possibly have done to earn this selection?

  Versti reached into his spatial ring and pulled out a gleaming white orb. He raised it high, channeling his spiritual energy into it. The orb lit up, radiating brilliant, multicolored light that shot upward like a beacon.

  A collective gasp swept through the arena as a massive image appeared in the sky, projected with perfect clarity. The display hovered over the field, stretching an impressive fifty meters across. Its sharp detail was so vivid it could rival even Earth’s most advanced technology, captivating everyone in the stands.

  The crowd fell into stunned silence, their eyes fixed on the spectacle.

  Devor’s heart skipped a beat. He recognized the scene instantly—it was his small garden in the Beastbound Hollow!

  The silence in the arena grew heavier, the weight of the image settling over the crowd. What had once been a lively, noisy arena now seemed charged with reverence. Thousands of disciples stared up, some confused, others intrigued.

  “This is why I chose Devor Li,” Versti’s voice rang out, deep and commanding, slicing through the quiet. “If any of you can surpass his achievements here, step forward and prove it.”

  The projection showed what appeared to be a simple garden at first glance. But the vibrant spiritual energy radiating from the plants told a different story. Streams of colorful energy swirled gracefully above the soil, creating a mesmerizing display that left the crowd in awe.

  To the untrained eye, it seemed like just an ordinary garden—with a few glowing effects. But to Spiritual Farmers and cultivators who understood the subtleties of plant cultivation, it was nothing short of remarkable.

  “That... can’t be real,” a Core Formation disciple muttered, his voice shaky with disbelief. “Did he really do this?”

  A ripple of astonishment spread through the crowd. Those who recognized the significance of the image leaned in to explain it to their neighbors, sparking murmurs of admiration and shock.

  Yulin, watching from the stands, stood frozen. Her usual sharp tongue failed her, her mouth slightly open as she stared at the display.

  “Yulin,” Liara whispered, awe in her voice, “you visited him during his punishment. Why didn’t you tell me about this? Devor has surpassed so many senior Spiritual Farmers!”

  “I didn’t know,” Yulin admitted, her voice unsteady. A wry smile tugged at her lips as she added, “I knew his garden was special, but this... I never imagined it had reached this level.”

  In the center of the field, Versti stepped forward. His piercing gaze swept over the silent crowd, demanding their full attention.

  “During his one-year punishment,” he began, his voice carrying a weight that commanded respect, “Devor cultivated this fifty-square-meter garden in a cave, with limited sunlight and countless challenges.”

  The challengers shifted uneasily, their once-proud postures wilting. Confidence quickly gave way to doubt as the full weight of Devor’s achievement began to sink in.

  "In less than a year," Versti’s voice rang out, sharp as a hammer on steel, "he grew forty-three Earth-Grade Spiritual Plants in that tiny, confined space."

  Gasps echoed through the stands, followed by whispers of disbelief. Forty-three Earth-Grade Spiritual Plants? In a cave?

  Versti’s gaze sharpened as he turned to face the challengers, his words slicing through the silence like a whip. "Tell me—can any of you match that?"

  The arena fell into a heavy silence. Versti’s challenge hung in the air, suffocating the challengers, their confidence now shattered under the pressure of his words.

  Devor stood motionless, his hands trembling slightly at his sides. He could feel the weight of thousands of disciples’ gazes burning into him—half disbelief, half awe.

  The challengers, who had once stepped forward with boldness, now lowered their heads, their faces drained of color. The energy they’d had moments ago seemed to vanish, crushed by the sheer scale of what they were now up against.

  Whispers spread quickly through the crowd.

  "Forty-three Earth-Grade Spiritual Plants… that’s unheard of."

  "Even Senior Spiritual Farmers would struggle with that under ideal conditions. He did it in a cave?"

  "Looks like Versti’s choice wasn’t random after all."

  Yulin and Liara exchanged a glance. Yulin’s chest swelled with pride, though she kept quiet. Liara simply smiled, her expression softening as she watched Devor stand tall in the arena.

  Versti’s voice broke the silence. "If any of you think you can do better, now’s your chance to prove it. Otherwise, step aside and make way for someone who’s already earned his place."

  The silence stretched on for a few long moments, then, one by one, the challengers stepped back, avoiding Versti’s gaze.

  The atmosphere shifted. The mocking whispers were gone, replaced by a quiet but undeniable sense of respect. Devor had earned his place, and no one could deny it now.

  Above him, the projection of his garden still shimmered, a glowing testament to his hard work and perseverance.

  Devor exhaled, his chest tightening with an unfamiliar feeling. It wasn’t relief, nor pride. It was something deeper—a sense of belonging, as if, for the first time in his life, he truly deserved to stand where he was.