C17 Before the Competition

In just one night, the news of the Elite Disciple Selection had spread like wildfire throughout the entire Profound Heaven Sect.

Even Ye Feng, who was in seclusion within the Nine-level Demon Tower, had received word.

"Hey, senior brother, there's a buzz about the Elite Disciple Selection Competition happening soon. Are you really not going to let me out?" Ye Feng stood atop a pile of puppet remains, giving the old man a mischievous look.

"What's the rush? The competition isn't for another month. Today's just for signing up." He was indifferent to the so-called Elite Disciple Selection Competition. He had the means to ensure Ye Feng's status as an Elite Disciple with or without the event.

The only reason he wanted him to enter was to make a public appearance before the other disciples.

Taking a leisurely sip of wine, he said, "Today, you need to concentrate on mastering the techniques of this level. If you can't grasp them, better stay put rather than embarrass yourself at the competition."

Indeed, since his bout with Chen Yu, the old man had pinpointed the issue. It wasn't Ye Feng's power or innate ability, but rather his skill set.

Had he possessed a broader array of skills that day, Chen Yu wouldn't have had the upper hand.

So, following that revelation, the old man hauled Ye Feng back to the Nine-level Demon Tower, insisting he press on until reaching the fifth level.

Ye Feng had initially thought the first two levels would be a breeze, but upon re-entering the first level, he was met with a new form of attack. Instead of mere pebbles, now he faced arrows radiating a chilling presence.

As the stone transformed into a porcupine in an instant, Ye instinctively reached for his Celestial Meteorite Pot.

But as he drew the pot, the old man swiftly confiscated it.

"Each level of the Nine-level Demon Tower harbors an Earth Level skill. The highest skill on the first level is the Ghost Shadow Step. I need you to set aside all defensive weapons and focus on mastering the Ghost Shadow Step."

"Old man, are you trying to get me killed?" Ye Feng groaned. The arrows looked dangerously sharp, and he was certain that just one volley would leave him riddled like a sieve.

"You have thirty minutes to observe the patterns on the rock face," the old man said, dismissing his complaints. He confiscated both the Celestial Meteorite Pot and the little golden shovel, tossed out a cryptic hint, and then returned to his stone to resume his drinking.

Thirty minutes... Ye Feng glanced at the hourglass, which had already begun its countdown.

With determination, Ye Feng no longer wasted time glaring at the old man. He strode over to the rock wall opposite him.

He hadn't noticed before, but the walls of the Nine-level Demon Tower were inscribed with all sorts of cultivation methods. On this particular level, the most numerous were the techniques for dodging.

Ghost Shadow Step, Ghost Shadow Step...

At last, with only fifteen minutes remaining, he discovered the technique for Ghost Shadow Step.

There was no time for further thought. Desperate to survive, Ye Feng focused intently on memorizing every detail of the step patterns etched into the rock.

"Time's up," the old man announced, his voice tolling like a death knell.

As his words faded, the walls emitted the sound of mechanisms engaging.

"Wait!" Ye Feng managed to cry out, but it was too late. Knowledge poured out like a swarm of locusts from the holes in the walls.

"Damn it!" In a flash, Ye Feng mentally reviewed the Ghost Shadow Step, channeling Spiritual Force into his feet and mimicking the memorized steps to evade the incoming arrows.

But after just one round, Ye Feng's body was riddled with the sharp projectiles of knowledge.

"Too weak," the old man remarked with disdain as he looked at the barely alive Ye Feng. He then personally retrieved Ye Feng, who was riddled with arrows, from the ground.

At the kitchen, the old man had already prepared a large pot. With a gentle pat on Ye Feng's shoulder, the arrowheads along with his clothes vanished into thin air.

Gazing at the bloodied Ye Feng, the old man effortlessly tossed him into the pot. It was filled with an assortment of unidentified medicinal herbs. As soon as Ye Feng hit the liquid, he felt as though countless insects were gnawing at his wounds, the discomfort nearly driving him to leap out of the pot.

The old man then dipped his hand into the medicinal broth. Visible to the eye, a stream of blue energy flowed from his fingertip, blending seamlessly into the concoction.

"Mr. Ye, why aren't you seizing this moment to cultivate?" After infusing some blue threads, the elder silently withdrew his hand.

He didn't miss the chance to remind Mr. Ye to practice his cultivation.

If Ye Feng could talk at that moment, he'd have a few choice words for the old man.

Couldn't he see that Ye Feng had been shot through with a thousand arrows? Whether he'd even survive was the question.

Unmoved by Ye Feng's pained expression, the elder tossed him into the pot and walked away.

Ye Feng felt a surge of blood loss and dizziness before his head drooped, and he passed out.

The next morning, he was awakened by the calls of the Pearl Fire Cloud Bird.

"Ah!" He sat up and instinctively checked his body, astonished to find that the wounds that should have been there had vanished overnight.

Even the exhaustion from losing too much blood was gone.

"Incredible," Ye Feng couldn't help but exclaim.

Before he could say more, everything went black.

He yanked off the item covering his head and found it was a fresh set of clothes.

"Old man, what are you up to now?" Ye Feng turned to the elder, who had just emerged from the room.

The elder gave him a knowing smile. "You'll get used to it."

After emerging from the Celestial Meteorite Pot and changing into clean clothes, the elder picked up Ye Feng by his belt, as if he were lifting a chicken, and carried him back to the Nine-level Demon Tower.

Indeed, he was dropped on the first level once more.

As the deadline for the Elite Disciple Selection Competition drew near, Ye Feng continued to endure the grueling training.

Yet, through this ordeal, his skill with the Ghost Shadow Step grew increasingly sharp.

From initially being riddled with arrows to suffering only a few minor wounds, it took him just three days.

The elder was inwardly astounded by such progress.

Could this young man be a martial arts prodigy?

After the day's trials, Ye Feng was once again thrown into the large iron pot by the elder.

He also learned that Zhang Dashao had successfully registered his name for him. Now, all he had to do was focus on his training.

It sounds trivial, but after enduring several days of torment, Ye Feng was on the verge of developing a phobia of arrows.

"You've been marinating in this iron pot for days now; you must be getting bored," the old man remarked, not leaving as he usually did but instead fetching something from the kitchen.

"No, not at all bored. I actually find soaking here quite pleasant," Ye Feng protested, his resistance evident.