Chapter 296: Winning Prize

Chapter 296: Chapter 296: Winning Prize

The projection array shifted, showing an image of a golden vault door.

"First, the Crown Prize. Entry into the Imperial Sun Vault to claim one Origin Grade artifact."

Gasps rippled through the coliseum like a sudden squall, the sound echoing off the ancient stone walls and reverberating through the packed stands.

Disciples clutched their chests, elders exchanged incredulous glances, and even the most stoic sect leaders found their composure cracking under the weight of the announcement.

Origin Grade.

That wasn’t just a weapon—that was a legacy. A tool capable of reshaping the balance of power on the continent.

A blade that could cleave mountains, a staff that could command the elements, or perhaps something even more esoteric, like a mirror that revealed hidden truths or a bell that could shatter souls.

The possibilities were endless, and every cultivator in the arena knew it.

Damon’s golden eyes narrowed, the subtle patterns within them swirling as he processed the magnitude of the revelation.

His mind raced through the implications, calculating how such an artifact could accelerate his plans.

’An Origin Grade artifact.’

’That’s worth more than everything else combined.’

King Aurelius Solaris raised a second finger, the gesture commanding absolute silence.

"Second, cultivation resources."

The projection array shifted again, displaying numbers and images that made the crowd’s collective breath catch in their throats.

"Ten million High-Grade Spirit Stones."

The number hung in the air like a tangible weight. For a small sect, that sum could fund a century of operations.

For a major sect, it meant the ability to purchase rare materials, bribe officials, or hire mercenary cultivators for a campaign.

The crowd stirred with barely contained excitement.

"Ten Flawless Saint Grade Ascension Pills."

The sect leaders leaned forward, their eyes gleaming with avarice.

Each pill represented a guaranteed breakthrough for a peak Saint Realm cultivator, a chance to ascend to the next tier of power.

Ten of them meant the possibility of creating an entire generation of elites.

"And ownership of the Dragon-Vein Mineral Basin for ten years."

The arena erupted. Damon had read about the basin in the Azure Dragon Sect’s archives. It was a nexus of earth and fire energies, producing crystals infused with the essence of ancient dragons. Ten years of exclusive ownership would allow a sect to arm its disciples with weapons forged from those crystals, creating an army of unparalleled might.

Damon watched the sect leaders’ faces, reading them like open books.

The Grand Elder of the Jade Serpent Sect was already licking his lips, his fingers drumming on the armrest of his chair.

The matriarch of the Violet Cloud Sect had her eyes fixed on the projection, her mind clearly racing with strategies to secure the top spot.

Even the usually placid representatives of the Silent Lotus Sect were leaning forward, their serene masks cracking with barely concealed avarice.

Greed.

Pure, unfiltered greed.

It was a language Damon understood well.

The King raised a third finger, and the projection array shifted once more, revealing a pool of liquid light that seemed to pulse with its own heartbeat.

The image was almost hypnotic—a basin filled with a substance that was neither water nor energy, but something in between.

It shimmered with all the colors of the spectrum, yet appeared white and pure.

"Third, the Imperial Baptism."

The crowd’s reaction was different this time.

A hush fell over the arena as cultivators bowed their heads in acknowledgment of the prize’s significance.

"Direct immersion into the royal Spirit-Pool for all winning team members."

The Spirit-Pool was legendary.

Damon had heard whispers about this ritual during his time in the sect.

It was said that the pool was infused with the essence of the Solaris bloodline, a mixture of heavenly and imperial energies that could only be accessed by the royal family and their most favored allies.

A single immersion could cleanse impurities that had accumulated over decades of cultivation, strengthen a cultivator’s foundation to its theoretical maximum, and push the body to its absolute limit.

For Damon, who had already undergone several transformations, the prospect was tantalizing.

The Body of the Incubus Dragon Lord was powerful, but it still had room for improvement.

The Spirit-Pool could be the key to unlocking its next stage.

He filed that information away.

’The Spirit-Pool. That could be useful.’

The King continued, his voice steady and commanding.

"The second place sect shall receive five million High-Grade Spirit Stones, five Saint Grade Pills, and access to the Royal Secret Technique Pavilion."

He paused, letting the words sink in.

"The third place sect shall receive two million High-Grade Spirit Stones, three Saint Grade Pills, and top-tier spiritual herb allocations."

The moment the words left his mouth, the atmosphere in the arena shifted.

But then the tension built, like a pressure cooker about to explode.

The air grew thick with anticipation, and Damon could feel the ambient spiritual energy in the arena churning as cultivators unconsciously drew upon their power.

The greed was palpable, a physical force that pressed against the walls of the coliseum.

The ambition was a fire that burned in every heart. And the bloodlust... that was the most dangerous of all.

Damon had felt it before, in the dungeons of the Azure Dragon Sect, in the arenas of the Underworld Tournament.

It was the scent of battle, the promise of violence. And it was intoxicating.

He turned his gaze toward the Crimson Eclipse box, his eyes cutting through the crowd like blades.

Alistair Reventon sat with his back straight, his hands resting on the armrests of his chair, his expression unreadable.

But his eyes were burning—a cold, calculating fire that spoke of centuries of experience and a ruthless will to win.

Beside him, Kai Reventon stood at the edge of the box, his body repaired by demonic arts, his cultivation restored and enhanced.

His aura was different now—darker, more oppressive.

The demonic energy that flowed through him had changed him, made him more dangerous.

Kai’s gaze was fixed on the stage.

But Damon knew.

Kai was looking at him.

The hunger in Kai’s eyes was unmistakable.

It was the hunger of a predator who had been humiliated, who had tasted defeat and found it bitter.

He wanted the prize. He wanted revenge. He wanted Damon’s blood.

Alistair leaned toward Kai and whispered something.

Kai nodded, his jaw tight, his hands gripping the railing of the box until his knuckles turned white.

They stared at the stage.

At the prizes.

At the opportunity to crush Damon publicly.

Damon smiled.

It was a cold, confident smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

He had faced worse odds before.

He had fought against cultivators who were entire realms above him, and he had emerged victorious.

The Crimson Eclipse Sect was powerful, but they were not invincible.

And Kai Reventon, for all his demonic enhancements, was still just a man.

A man who had already lost to Damon once.

Damon’s hand drifted to the hilt of his sword, his fingers brushing against the cool metal.