Chapter 164: The Golden Heir Tournament Begins

The day finally arrived.

Long before sunrise, Nine Lotus Academy had already awakened.

Countless lights illuminated the mountains as streams of people moved through the academy grounds like rivers flowing toward a single destination. Flying vehicles descended from the skies continuously, carrying participants, spectators, reporters, family representatives, sect elders, and powerful warriors from every corner of the world.

The Golden Heir Tournament.

For months, the martial world had spoken about nothing else.

For days, rumors had spread without end.

Now, the waiting was finally over.

The massive competition grounds occupied an entire mountain region prepared specially by the Octopus Organization and Nine Lotus Academy. Several smaller peaks had been connected through giant stone bridges, hanging platforms, forest paths, cliffside routes, and natural valleys.

From above, the battlefield resembled a giant maze carved into the mountains.

Thousands of formations glowed beneath the earth.

Hundreds of Supreme Warriors stood guard.

Not even a Peak Grandmaster could secretly alter the terrain without being discovered.

At the center of the entire mountain range stood a gigantic circular stage made of black stone.

One thousand golden pedestals had been placed around it.

Those pedestals represented qualification.

Those pedestals represented opportunity.

Those pedestals represented the dreams of tens of thousands of people.

And there were only one thousand of them.

Above the stage floated exactly one thousand golden flags.

Each flag carried the symbol of Nine Lotus Academy.

Each flag contained a unique identification formation.

Each flag possessed a secret code personally engraved by the Octopus Organization.

Replication was impossible.

Counterfeiting was impossible.

Stealing one was allowed.

Creating one was not.

The rules had been announced repeatedly during the previous days.

Obtain a flag.

Protect it.

Bring it back.

Place it on one of the thousand pedestals.

Advance.

Fail, and your journey ends.

Simple.

Brutal.

Effective.

By the time the sun appeared above the eastern horizon, the spectator stands were already overflowing.

Millions watched through live broadcasts.

Major martial networks transmitted the event worldwide.

Every important family had sent representatives.

Every powerful organization had observers present.

Even ordinary humans watched from afar, despite barely understanding the significance of the competition.

The atmosphere was electric.

Everywhere people looked, they saw famous faces.

Hidden sect heirs.

Military prodigies.

Clan geniuses.

Wandering monsters.

Ancient Peak Grandmasters seeking one final opportunity before death.

The sheer number of participants was enough to make people’s scalps tingle.

Thirty-three thousand.

A number so absurd that many people still struggled to believe it.

Thirty-three thousand Peak Grandmasters.

Even some Supreme Warriors found the sight shocking.

High above the competition grounds, the leaders of the Octopus Organization occupied a massive floating platform.

Ancestor Long sat at the center.

The nine House Masters sat beside him.

Representatives from major powers occupied nearby seats.

The atmosphere remained dignified and solemn.

This was no longer merely a tournament.

This was an event capable of changing the balance of the martial world.

Meanwhile, within the participant gathering area, countless groups had quietly formed.

Alliances.

Temporary partnerships.

Family coalitions.

Hidden agreements.

Everyone understood the reality.

No matter how talented an individual might be, surviving thirty-three thousand competitors alone would not be easy.

Some groups numbered only three or four people.

Others consisted of dozens.

The Imperial Family naturally formed one of the largest camps.

Mark Smith stood at its center.

The Sky Rank Serpent Spirit Sword rested quietly behind his back.

His eyes remained fixed on the mountain battlefield ahead.

Several Imperial Family geniuses surrounded him.

None dared disturb him.

Meanwhile, another area belonged to the Demonic Sea Tribe.

Their arrival attracted considerable attention.

Crystal-white robes.

Strange weapons.

Cold expressions.

Elsa stood among them while holding her crescent-bladed staff.

Unlike many participants who looked nervous or excited, she appeared completely calm.

Her grandmother Luka sat among the spectator area, silently observing the crowd.

From time to time, her eyes drifted toward the Clark Family seating area.

Unfortunately, Tony Clark was nowhere to be seen.

That fact bothered her slightly.

Elsewhere, hidden sect disciples quietly observed one another.

Old Peak Grandmasters stood together discussing strategies.

Mercenary groups negotiated alliances.

Information brokers sold last-minute intelligence.

The tournament hadn’t started.

Yet the battlefield had already begun.

As time passed, more and more participants arrived.

Only one person remained absent.

Tony Clark.

Inside the Clark Family seating area, Patriarch Rion’s expression had gradually become uglier.

"He still hasn’t come?"

An elder beside him shook his head helplessly.

"No."

Several elders immediately became dissatisfied.

"What is that boy doing?"

"The tournament is starting!"

"Does he think this is some family banquet?"

Even Kevin Clark looked around repeatedly.

Though he disliked Tony, he still wanted to see him participate.

Meanwhile, the Frost Family representatives had also noticed his absence.

Lily Frost remained silent.

Her gaze occasionally swept across the participant area.

Yet she said nothing.

Just as the discussions grew louder, a giant bell suddenly rang throughout the mountain region.

BOOOOOONG!!!

The sound echoed across valleys and cliffs.

The crowd instantly became quiet.

Thirty-three thousand participants turned their attention toward the central stage.

Ancestor Long slowly rose from his seat.

The entire mountain range seemed to become silent.

Even the wind appeared to stop.

Millions watching through live broadcasts unconsciously held their breath.

The tournament was about to begin.

And at that exact moment...

A figure casually walked through the participant entrance.

His hands were behind his back.

His expression looked relaxed.

As though he had merely arrived for a morning stroll.

Tony Clark.

For a moment, countless eyes turned toward him. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

The Clark Family elders froze.

Mark Smith narrowed his eyes.

After disappearing into seclusion for days, Tony had finally arrived.

And somehow... Just by standing there, he seemed different.

Then he casually found an empty spot among the participants and stood there.

Almost at the same moment, Ancestor Long’s voice echoed across the entire mountain range.

"The first round of the Golden Heir Tournament... begins now."

His words rolled across the mountains like thunder.

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