Desolate Devouring Art - Chapter 1217 - Sowing Discord
Chapter 1217 – Sowing Discord
The disciples of the War Dragon Institute and the Dharma Institute clashed fiercely, each desperate to seize a bidding slot. With places limited, only the strong seized them, and the field instantly became a battleground.
Many sharp-eyed disciples saw through Liu Wuxie’s scheme, but they were powerless to stop it. They refused to stand aside and watch the Wisdom Stones fall into others’ hands. In the cultivation world, treasures always drew blood. Countless cultivators swarmed and fought to the death for the sake of such treasures.
A War Dragon Institute disciple jeered, his voice dripping with arrogance. “Your Dharma Institute dares to compete with us, the War Dragon Institute? Are you tired of living?”
His words bore the weight of the institute’s long-standing dominance and inflamed his peers’ pride.
The insult ignited the Dharma Institute disciples’ fury as if it were dry tinder. The crowd split instantly into two factions, and even veteran disciples joined the fray.
“Fuck them! How dare they look down on us just because they’re from the War Dragon Institute?!” roared a Dharma Institute disciple. Fury erupted, and the small spark of rivalry exploded into open conflict.
Liu Wuxie lit the fuse, and once it burned, no one could snuff it out. Shoves turned to blows, and blows to bloodshed. Old feuds flared, dragging in hundreds, then thousands.
Chaos swallowed the martial field. Dozens of outer sect disciples rushed in but faltered, unsure how to stop the madness. If they forbade bidding on the Wisdom Stones, the crowd would spit on them and drown them.
***
High above, a gray-robed elder observed with keen interest. He had been watching Liu Wuxie since the boy began practicing the Heavenly Sacred Dragon Scripture.
“Things are getting interesting,” he murmured, before vanishing in a flash and slipping into a lesser realm.
In a modest hall, a middle-aged man sat, immortal runes flowing around him like rivers of light. His presence exuded terrifying power.
“Sect Master, I’ve confirmed the lead on the Heavenly Sacred Dragon Scripture,” the gray-robed elder reported, appearing before him.
“This boy is interesting,” the sect master said with a faint smile. Nothing within the sect escaped his sight.
“Should we suppress him?” the elder asked cautiously. Liu Wuxie stirred storm after storm, leaving corpses in his wake.
“No,” the sect master replied. “Do not stop him. Add fuel to the fire. And regarding the Heavenly Sacred Dragon Scripture—say nothing. We’ll observe him further.”
He waved his hand, and the martial field appeared in a shimmering projection, a feat beyond even Earth Immortal Realm cultivators.
“Understood,” the elder bowed, though confusion tugged at his mind. Space twisted, and he vanished.
The sect master narrowed his eyes. “Strange. There’s another trace of aura clinging to you, boy.”
At that very moment, Liu Wuxie felt the hidden gaze. His brow twitched. With a thought, he unfurled the Heavenly Dao Book, cloaking his body in concealment.
The image before the sect master blurred instantly, cutting off his sight of the martial field.
“Interesting,” the sect master murmured, lips curling. “Little one, what are you truly after with such a high-profile move?”
He understood Liu Wuxie’s intentions. The boy wanted to attract attention. Others would probably fall for the trick, but not him. Peerless experts at their level could see through all things.
Meanwhile, chaos raged unchecked on the martial field. Over thirty elders stood nearby, ready to intervene, until an invisible force bound them in place. Shock rippled through them. The lesser realm itself unleashed that force and forbade their interference.
Elders exchanged uneasy glances. Even Xiao Li and Huang Shan failed to comprehend why the sect’s upper echelon had allowed the disciples to tear each other apart.
The fight only grew bloodier. The Heavenly Martial Institute disciples, who had been watching in amusement, felt a chill crawl into their bones. Slowly, they realized the terrifying truth: Liu Wuxie had orchestrated everything.
The martial field became a purgatory. Veteran disciples frowned as they, too, sensed the trap.
“Everyone, stop! We’ve all been duped!” shouted one disciple in sudden clarity. Liu Wuxie had sown discord to pit the War Dragon and Dharma Institutes against each other.
By the time they realized it, blood already pervaded the ground. Dozens bled on the ground, many hovering close to death.
Liu Wuxie smiled faintly. His plan had worked. Today’s battle tore wounds that would fester into future conflicts.
The elders of both institutes looked at each other in horror. They saw clearly what Liu Wuxie had done. With nothing more than a few Wisdom Stones, he shook the balance of the Heavenly Dragon Sect, a balance unbroken for centuries.
“Liu Wuxie, you dare incite us to fight among ourselves!” the War Dragon disciples roared, pointing their fury at him. Even with heaven-defying strength, he could not hope to face so many at once.
“I incited you?” Liu Wuxie sneered. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Bid if you want, and get out of my sight if you don’t.”
His arrogance burned hotter than theirs. He didn’t care if they stayed or left. His words cut deep, but none dared step forward. The wilderness training had already marked him as their enemy; he claimed his revenge.
“Liu Wuxie, why provoke everyone in the outer sect? What good will it do to you?” veteran disciples demanded. Even if he were strong, life in the sect would be hard after offending so many.
Liu Wuxie did not answer. Time was short. He needed to draw the upper echelon’s gaze, no matter the cost. He could never reach the Primal Origin Realm within a year. Risk gave him his only path, and since he already feuded with the institutes, he decided to exploit it.
“If this goes on, we won’t be able to decide the slots. If you’re not sincere about the auction, forget it,” one disciple snarled, refusing to step into his trap again. Others nodded quickly. They couldn’t waste another day fighting.
Liu Wuxie thought briefly and said, “Fine. We’ll verify assets. Only those with at least one million astral stones can bid. That’s fair, isn’t it?”
Gasps rippled through the crowd. A million astral stones meant no small sum, though not impossible. Many had borrowed frantically all day to get enough for a single Wisdom Stone.
“I have one million!” declared a veteran disciple, producing an interspatial pouch heavy with astral stones.
“Give him a qualification,” Liu Wuxie instructed He Yingwu. He Yingwu raised a bamboo placard with the number one written on it.
Once the first disciple entered, more followed. Soon, ten stood proudly before the platform—eight veterans and two new disciples.
“Isn’t it clear?” muttered a War Dragon elder. “He could have done asset verification from the start. Instead, he baited them into fighting to divide the institutes.”
“That boy is vengeful,” sighed a Dharma elder. “He dug the trap early and lured them in. Now he’ll bleed them dry.”
Even after seeing through the scheme, they still couldn’t break the force that barred them from action.
Only the Heavenly Martial Institute elders smiled, delighted by his cunningness.
The truth was undeniable. Liu Wuxie could have weeded out ninety percent of the disciples at the start. Instead, he made them destroy themselves. When they finally realized the trap, he then silenced them with asset verification.
“He even prepared those bamboo placards last night,” one elder observed. He didn’t participate in the wilderness training and only heard of Liu Wuxie’s feats from the other elders.
Meanwhile, He Yingwu finally distributed thirty bamboo placards.
“Wits, cultivation, and temperament—he lacks none,” said another. “If he survives, he’ll become a powerhouse.”
Grudges aside, even the elders admired his ruthless brilliance.
As the placards reached thirty, those without the million astral stones clenched their teeth in frustration. Even if they won a slot, they would likely embarrass themselves in the bidding process.
“Liu Wuxie, I don’t have one million. Will eight hundred thousand do?” one disciple asked. Only thirty had passed, and no one wanted to miss the Wisdom Stones.
