Chapter 950: The Reason for Change
The Heaven-Selection Ceremony was the most important event for the Yao race, yet the associated sacrificial rites were extremely simple, very much in line with the Yao's consistent temperament. As the morning light barely began to dispel some of the thick fog, the sacrificial rites concluded, moving into the truly important and attention-grabbing formal procedures. These formal procedures were equally simple, divided into three stages. First, through arena battles, nine candidates qualified to enter the Heaven Tree were selected. Then, these nine candidates would descend deep underground via the Heaven Tree's trunk, endure the baptism of the Wildfire, and undergo the trials of the ancestral spirits. If multiple candidates passed this stage, they would need to fight each other again until the final victor, the so-called Heaven-Selected One, was determined.
Carefully analyzing the entire process reveals the profound intentions of the Yao ancestors from countless years ago. If the goal were merely convenience, when establishing the Heaven-Selection rules back then, the second stage's ancestral spirit trial could have been placed as the final step. The current order indicates that the so-called Heaven-Selection ultimately depends on whether one is strong enough themselves—the Yao have survived and gradually grown in such a barbaric and perilous environment, never relying on ancestral protection or heavenly pity, but on the will to overcome heaven.
Based on these principles, even knowing they had no chance of becoming the final victor, many young tribal strongmen still participated in today's Heaven-Selection Ceremony.
Dozens of arenas were distributed across different districts and tribal settlements of White Emperor City, awaiting the arrival of these warriors.
The Carp Tribe, the most skilled in counting and the most impartial among the Yao, dispatched many experienced and steady members to judge victories and defeats. Supervisory officials sent by the Yao Imperial Court and the Council of Elders would record everything happening at each arena in full and could raise objections at any time.
The Yao populace of the entire White Emperor City had emerged from their homes, heading toward those arenas, ready to witness a spectacle rare in a century.
The most-watched arenas were near the Imperial Palace and the Heaven-Shou Pavilion, surrounded by crowds packed so tightly they were impenetrable.
These arenas drew the most attention because they were closest to the high Imperial Palace viewing platform, where the Empress and the dignitaries of the Council of Elders could easily see them. Naturally, those daring to step onto these arenas were no ordinary individuals; one could expect to see many already renowned figures, such as Xiao De.
The crowd parted like a tide, and Xiao De, flanked by tribal elders and strongmen, walked toward the arena. Along the way, many commoners loudly cheered him on.
The Yao revered the strong as supreme. As the universally recognized strongest of the middle generation, Xiao De held great prestige along both banks of the Red River. His tribe was also immensely powerful, with many supporters in the Yao Court and the Council of Elders. In the eyes of many Yao commoners, even if the Empress favored her own nephew privately, the final victor of this Heaven-Selection Ceremony should undoubtedly still be him. Only someone like him was worthy of marrying Princess Luo Luo and becoming the next generation's sovereign of the Yao.
Xiao De stepped onto the arena, glanced at his opponent, and said expressionlessly, "You are no match for me."
His temperament had always been cold and proud, with a touch of cruelty and violence, so his words were naturally blunt.
This was already the result of significant changes in his personality; otherwise, he wouldn't even bother speaking to the other party.
His opponent was a middle-aged strongman from the Meng Tribe. On any other arena, he might have advanced far, but his luck was truly terrible—he encountered the legendary Xiao De in the very first match. Deep within his solemn gaze, there was inevitably some regret and unwillingness.
Knowing he was outmatched, logic dictated he should concede and withdraw, but the middle-aged Meng strongman did not do so. The Yao possessed an extremely fierce fighting spirit and valued honor above all, even life itself. He said to Xiao De, "If one retreats just because they're no match, then today you will regretfully face no challenges at all."
The Meng strongman's words conveyed respect for Xiao De while also stating his own stance.
A faint yellow gleam in Xiao De's indifferent eyes dimmed slightly, and a satisfied expression appeared on his face. He said, "You're not bad. I'll go all out."
Hearing this, the Meng strongman felt no fear but instead a sense of honor. He replied, "Thank you."
Xiao De reached back, unfastened his cloak, and tossed it outside the arena. Looking at the Meng strongman, he said, "You first."
Thus, the first battle of the Heaven-Selection Ceremony began, utterly devoid of novelty.
The Yao did everything directly—simple, or rather, brutal—whether eating, conducting business, engaging in political struggles, or actual combat.
Just like the countless battles that occurred daily along the banks of the Red River, today's match was also unoriginal.
Deafening crashes rang out incessantly, dust billowed wildly, the ground trembled, and fierce winds howled.
The outcome of this match was equally predictable. Xiao De naturally emerged victorious, and he fulfilled his pre-battle promise: his punches and kicks held nothing back, his style utterly ferocious. In just three moves, he severely wounded the Meng strongman.
Blood on the sand-covered arena was startlingly vivid. No one knew how many bones in the Meng strongman's body had been broken. His eyes were closed, and he seemed on the verge of death at any moment.
A military physician from the Yao Court, accompanied by several army medics carrying medicine boxes, hurriedly rushed onto the arena. But the Meng strongman's injuries were too severe; the bleeding couldn't be stopped for a long time.
If this were any other sacrificial rite or battle, the Western Wilderness Dao Hall would naturally send priests. Holy Light magic had miraculous effects on such injuries and could likely save the Meng strongman's life. But today was the Heaven-Selection Ceremony. For the state religion not to cause trouble was already considered prioritizing the greater good; how could they possibly send priests to help?
Just as it seemed the Meng strongman would not survive, the cheers around the arena gradually faded, turning quiet. The Yao revered the strong and loved battle most; they had seen such scenes countless times. Yet, thinking that this clearly formidable Meng strongman was about to die, the crowd's emotions inevitably grew somewhat uneasy.
"After you heal him, remember to tell him he still owes me for the medicine."
Xiao De suddenly tossed a earthy-yellow pill into the military physician's hand, said expressionlessly, and then stepped down from the arena.
Seeing that earthy-yellow pill, the military physician was momentarily stunned, then an expression of disbelief spread across his face.
Murmurs arose among the crowd around the arena, followed by several exclamations of shock.
"Could that be Yellow Thorn Fruit?"
"No way?"
Yellow Thorn Fruit was a pill brewed from the sap of a rare plant in the southern Yao domain, possessing the miraculous effects of stopping bleeding and reviving the soul. Its yield was extremely low, making it incredibly precious.
Apart from the small quantities sent annually to the Imperial Palace and the Council of Elders, the vast majority of Yellow Thorn Fruit in the world was controlled by the noble clans.
As a strongman nurtured and supported with the full resources of his noble clan, Xiao De naturally carried Yellow Thorn Fruit on him. But no commoner could have imagined that after severely wounding the Meng strongman, he would so generously use this rare medicine to save the man's life.
Watching Xiao De walk away from the arena, the crowd was utterly astonished, feeling that his figure loomed even larger than the legends suggested.
No matter how scorching the gazes cast upon him, no matter how much awe filled the murmurs, Xiao De's expression remained unchanged—still that same indifference.
The arena battles continued. With some time before his next match, he passed through the crowd and, surrounded by his tribe's strongmen, returned to his carriage.
The tribal chief had been sitting in the carriage the whole time.
Looking at Xiao De, the chief's expression was somewhat peculiar—a mix of relief and faint puzzlement. "You've changed a lot these past few years."
Xiao De was silent for a moment, then said, "Change happens because there's a reason for it."