You, a Foundation Establishment Disciple, Dare to Test a True Inheritor

The lengthy opening ceremony finally concluded, and the main event began.

The first to speak was Elder Yang Zhengxin of the Qingshan Sect.

"I heard that Elder Ding Mingcang of your sect was punished with confinement in Reflection Valley for disciplining a disciple?"

"Elder Ding is my sworn brother. I know his character better than anyone—how could he possibly harass a disciple without reason?"

"That disciple must have pulled some trick to cause such a misunderstanding!"

Yang Zhengxin's tone carried clear reproach.

He and Ding Mingcang were close friends, and this matter had weighed on him ever since he heard of it.

Originally, another elder was supposed to lead the Qingshan Sect disciples for this exchange, but Yang Zhengxin had insisted on replacing him—just so he could speak up on Ding Mingcang's behalf.

"With all the turmoil in the Qingshan Sect, Elder Yang still finds time to concern himself with the affairs of our Lingxiao Sect. How thoughtful of you."

Zhao Wendao narrowed his eyes, responding with a feigned smile.

His words instantly darkened Yang Zhengxin's expression.

The elder snorted coldly.

"Hmph!"

"In the past, the trial realms for your sect's competitions were all crafted by Elder Ding."

"If today's realm doesn't meet his standards, I won't acknowledge it!"

Ding Mingcang was the Lingxiao Sect's foremost master of formations in this era.

The core of the sect's grand protective array was his handiwork.

By Yang Zhengxin's logic, even if Zhao Wendao personally took charge, the result would still fall short of his expectations.

Zhao Wendao chuckled. "You needn't worry about that, Elder Yang. Our sect is teeming with talent—someone has naturally taken responsibility for the trial realm for this martial exchange."

"Who, may I ask? Could it be that Elder Zhao himself will step in?"

Yang Zhengxin was determined to nitpick the realm mercilessly, hoping to secure Ding Mingcang's early release from Reflection Valley.

Even the great elder Zhao Wendao paled in comparison to Ding Mingcang when it came to constructing trial realms.

"Certainly not."

Zhao Wendao shook his head.

"Then who?"

"A disciple of our Lingxiao Sect."

"A disciple!?"

Yang Zhengxin's eyebrows shot up, his heart secretly rejoicing.

"Which disciple of yours could possibly craft a trial realm?"

"You misunderstand, Elder Yang. Not a realm—an illusionary trial."

"An illusionary trial? That’s no small feat either. Which true disciple is it? Zhong Yi or Zhou Yue?"

"Neither." Zhao Wendao smiled smugly. "An inner disciple of our sect."

"An inner disciple!?"

Yang Zhengxin was stunned.

The other elders exchanged glances, equally convinced they had misheard.

"The art of trial realms is vast and intricate. How could an inner disciple, with their limited experience, possibly design an illusionary trial to test the elite disciples of our five great sects?"

Yang Zhengxin sneered.

He had been searching for an opening to attack, and now one had practically fallen into his lap.

His skepticism was met with nods from the other elders.

Across the land, countless trial realms existed—some offering opportunities, others brimming with danger, many with obscure and peculiar rules.

It was tradition for the hosting sect of each martial exchange to create a trial realm for disciples to spar and learn within.

Over time, this had evolved into a display of a sect's prowess.

Whenever an exceptional trial realm was crafted, it would be named after the sect and passed down for future generations to study.

Now, not only was the Lingxiao Sect replacing a trial realm with an illusionary trial, but the creator was merely an inner disciple?

What kind of farce was this?

Zhao Wendao wasn’t surprised by Yang Zhengxin and the others' reactions.

Had he not witnessed Lu Ze’s two illusionary trials firsthand, he wouldn’t have believed it either.

"Rest assured, Elder Yang. Our Lingxiao Sect doesn’t harbor idlers. Though this disciple’s cultivation may be shallow, his mastery of illusionary trials likely surpasses even yours and mine!"

Zhao Wendao didn’t hold back in praising Lu Ze.

"Oh? Such a prodigy exists?"

Yang Zhengxin didn’t believe it for a second.

"You doubt me, Elder Yang? Very well—Lu Ze!"

"At your command."

Under the astonished gazes of the crowd, Lu Ze stood calmly.

Zhang Shifei, at the forefront of the disciples, glared at Lu Ze with humiliation and resentment.

Just moments ago, he had confidently told those around him that Elder Zhao must have been referring to him.

When the topic of illusionary trials arose, he had sensed something amiss.

Now, being publicly proven wrong filled him with shame, and he loathed Lu Ze for it.

"Elder Zhao… this is the inner disciple you spoke of, the one who crafted the illusionary trial?"

Yang Zhengxin scrutinized Lu Ze with undisguised mockery.

The other elders whispered among themselves, their eyes brimming with disapproval.

"Hah! Hahaha!"

Yang Zhengxin couldn’t hold back his laughter.

"Elder Zhao, are you truly saying… a disciple who’s barely reached the Foundation Establishment stage will design an illusionary trial to test the finest disciples of our five great sects?"

His words sent a ripple of discontent through the crowd.

Not only the elders but even the visiting disciples wore expressions of displeasure.

Those participating in this event were all exceptional talents.

Even among inner disciples, few were below the Golden Core stage.

Now, they were to be "tested" by a junior whose cultivation was the weakest of them all?

This was beyond absurd!

With a sharp sound, a red-haired true disciple rose from the Qingshan Sect’s ranks.

"Forgive my bluntness, but I refuse to be tested by a Foundation Establishment junior!"

His declaration was met with immediate support.

Many disciples nodded in agreement.

"I share the same sentiment!"

"While cultivation isn’t everything, a Foundation Establishment disciple’s perspective can’t possibly match mine."

"I’ve studied illusionary trial construction myself—why not let me take a stab at it?"

"Your Lingxiao Sect is treating us with far too little respect!"

......

The other elders exchanged glances.

Yang Zhengxin had already played the role of the antagonist, so the rest saw no need to pile on.

Finally, an elder from the Tianxuan Sect stood and said diplomatically, "Elder Zhao, we certainly believe in the Lingxiao Sect’s abundance of talent… but the younger generation’s concerns can’t be ignored. Perhaps your sect could appoint someone else to handle this matter?"

Yang Zhengxin quickly cut in. "Elder Zhao, if I may—why not simply recall Elder Ding? Otherwise, when word spreads, it’s your Lingxiao Sect’s reputation that will suffer."

He then pointed derisively at Lu Ze.

"Him? Craft an illusionary trial?? And test true disciples with it? Hahaha…"

Lu Ze watched Yang Zhengxin coldly.

From an outsider’s perspective, he understood their skepticism.

But this Yang Zhengxin had crossed the line into outright disrespect.

His mannerisms and attitude were nearly identical to Ding Mingcang’s—no wonder they were sworn brothers.

Birds of a feather truly flocked together.

"Elder Ding reacted the same way when he first heard the news."

Lu Ze smirked and spoke abruptly.

Yang Zhengxin’s laughter died instantly.

"What do you mean by that?"

His expression turned grim.

"Exactly what I said. When Elder Ding saw my illusionary trial, he refused to believe I was the creator… so we made a wager. He lost, and that’s why he’s in Reflection Valley."

Seeing Yang Zhengxin’s unsmiling face, Lu Ze’s lips curled into a faint smirk.

“Well, Elder Yang, would you also like to make a bet with me?”

“You—!!”

Yang Zhengxin erupted in fury.

He had volunteered to lead this delegation precisely to seek justice for his sworn brother.

Now, face-to-face with the culprit, how could he not be enraged?

What infuriated him even more was Lu Ze’s last remark—it was practically an open threat to send him into Reflection Valley for meditation!

All the while, Zhao Wendao’s aura remained locked onto him, a constant, “friendly” reminder.

Yang Zhengxin couldn’t act out.

Even if he did, Zhao Wendao would undoubtedly shield his own disciple.

He had no choice but to swallow his anger.

Gazing at the composed young man before him, Yang Zhengxin felt an inexplicable surge of irritation.

“Fine!”

“Since you claim to have the skill to craft illusionary trials for Core Formation realm true disciples, I’ll see for myself what you’re capable of!”

“But if you’re just bluffing…”

“Don’t blame this old man for being merciless!”