Chapter 152 - 119: Golden Scale Dao Quota, Celestial Sword Sect’s Scheme

Chapter 152: Chapter 119: Golden Scale Dao Quota, Celestial Sword Sect’s Scheme

In an instant, the entire Holy City was transfixed, millions of eyes glued to the designated exit path of the selection. Since all the other participating Cultivators had already emerged, only the Ghost-faced Asura who had reached the summit remained inside. In other words, the only person who could possibly walk out now was him.

As the crowd waited in breathless anticipation, a faint silhouette finally appeared in their line of sight.

The first thing they saw was a flash of white. He walked on the air, his long hair dancing in the wind, his robes as white as snow. With every step, he crossed dozens of meters.

"Who is it?" Tens of millions of Cultivators widened their eyes, staring intently at the figure, desperate to be the first to identify the mysterious person who had reached the summit.

When Jiang Hao’s figure fully entered their view, it was as if a monstrous wave had crashed through the Holy City.

"It’s him?"

"Jiang Hao?"

"Is it really Jiang Hao?"

"It’s actually that young man?"

"Brother... Brother Jiang?"

As his identity was revealed, countless familiar faces were struck with shock. Amidst the sea of people, the siblings Ji Qingxue and Ji Wufeng had mentally prepared themselves, but seeing that figure actually walk out still left them astounded. Back then, they had acknowledged that Jiang Hao possessed formidable strength and talent—at least enough to be considered a peerless prodigy—but this was the Holy City’s selection. This was the Holy City’s Celestial List!

"It really is Brother Jiang. He... he actually reached the summit, tying for first place with Leng Tianyu and the others?"

"How... how is this possible? Isn’t he... isn’t he a genius from the barren lands? How could he possibly rival the supreme talents of the Holy Land?"

Beside Ji Wufeng, several Cultivators who had briefly met Jiang Hao in the ancient ruins looked as though they had been struck by lightning. Ji Xiaotian and his group were so shocked their eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

"It’s actually him? He... he’s a once-in-an-epoch monster?"

The young men and women beside Ji Xiaotian breathed heavily, their eyes filled with disbelief. The young man emerging right now was the exact same Cultivator from the barren lands they had encountered three months ago when entering the city for the selection. At that time, Jiang Hao had seemed exceptionally ’cowardly.’ Faced with their mockery and provocations, he hadn’t even responded, simply turning and walking away in silence.

Yet now, as that memory flashed through their minds once more, it took on an entirely different meaning. It wasn’t cowardice—it was disdain. It was the mindset of someone who couldn’t be bothered to stoop to the level of ants. At least, that was how Ji Xiaotian and the others now perceived Jiang Hao’s actions in that moment.

As Ji Xiaotian’s group stood utterly dumbfounded, the City Guard also got a clear look at Jiang Hao’s face. He stood rooted to the spot, entirely speechless.

It wasn’t just the familiar faces who felt as though they had been thunderstruck; all tens of millions of Cultivators in the Holy City were visibly stunned.

"He’s so young."

"He is the Ghost-faced Asura? How is he this young?"

He wasn’t just young; he possessed a peerless elegance. Clad in white, he strolled through the air as casually as if he were walking in a courtyard. Even with his aura restrained, he remained a breathtaking sight. As Jiang Hao slowly approached through the sky, he resembled an Exiled Immortal descending to the mortal realm. His every movement had completely shed the image of the boy he had once been in Xingyue City.

While tens of millions of eyes fixed upon that white-robed figure, nearly a hundred Saint Sons and Saintesses of Nanling stood beneath the night sky. Shrouded in heavenly mysteries, they too stared fixedly at the figure entering their vision.

"Jiang Hao? His name is Jiang Hao?"

"The Ghost-faced Asura is Jiang Hao?"

"That peerless genius from the Xingyue City Earth Realm?"

The gazes of the endless Saint Sons and Saintesses seemed capable of piercing through the void as they all locked onto the young man. Even a massive number of older generation Cultivators in the Holy City were filled with shock, marvel, and absolute disbelief.

"Jiang Hao from the Xingyue City Earth Realm? Isn’t that the most barren territory in the Eastern Domain? How could such a monster be born there?"

"He isn’t a native Cultivator of our Nanling? How can this be?"

Clearly, countless native Cultivators of Nanling simply could not accept that this figure was a Cultivator from the barren lands. For so many years, Nanling had taken in an immeasurable number of outsider Cultivators, yet from ancient times until now, not a single one had ever reached such heights. Over time, Cultivators from the barren lands became synonymous with ants in the eyes of the natives. Even if an earth-shattering existence occasionally appeared, they would, at best, barely break into the second tier of the Celestial List.

But today, a thoroughly unremarkable Little Kalami had suddenly vaulted up to become a terrifying monster standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the top talents of Nanling. The vast majority of the Holy City’s Cultivators absolutely could not swallow this reality.

In stark contrast, the vast, ocean-like multitude of Cultivators hailing from the barren lands were utterly shaken.

"Jiang Hao! He’s Jiang Hao of Xingyue City! He is a once-in-a-generation monster who fought his way up from the barren lands!"

"HAHAHA! It’s actually Jiang Hao! It’s actually a Cultivator from the barren lands!"

"Let’s see who dares to call those of us from the barren lands ants in the future! Let’s see who still dares to say the barren lands can’t produce a presentable genius!"

Every Cultivator from the barren lands trembled all over. This was especially true for the older generation Cultivators who had been brought into Nanling in the past, only to be stranded by the rules and forced to continue their bloodlines here—many nearly had tears streaming down their weathered faces.

How many years had it been? When they were originally selected by the experts of Nanling, they thought they would soar into the heavens, only to end up as failures who didn’t make the cut. These failed candidates inevitably settled down in Nanling, becoming a part of this land. Though they had established a foothold, they had been ostracized and despised by the native Cultivators for countless years.

They had long had enough of being treated as ants and endlessly mocked. Yet, the harsh truth spoke louder than words: the barren lands had never produced a Cultivator worthy of stepping into the grand halls of power. But today was different. Today, the arrival of that young man gave them hope—the hope that from now on, they could finally strike back against those biting words.