That was Wei Zhao. Anyone else would have been unable to pull their kick at that point and would have sent Ling Tianyou flying, but Wei Zhao checked it effortlessly, casting Ling Tianyou a look pregnant with meaning and thinking to himself that this kid was no pushover.

Geniuses all have their pride, and for an exceptional talent like Ling Tianyou, even if he appeared mild and unassuming on the surface, deep down he was surely a proud man. People like that usually clung fiercely to their reputations, and even when driven into a corner, getting them to admit defeat to your face was harder than climbing to heaven. Yet Ling Tianyou had chosen to concede so cleanly and decisively, and had remained calm and composed from beginning to end, without the slightest trace of shame or embarrassment. That temperament alone marked him as no ordinary figure.

Outstanding natural talent, and a deep, calculating mind. Even Wei Zhao had to admit that if this Ling Tianyou truly grew into his potential, he would one day be a formidable power in his own right.

"Good. I hereby declare Wei Zhao the winner!" Xin Yi'an announced on the spot. The crowd still had not recovered their wits; they were still immersed in the rhythm of that drawn-out contest of endurance, and then in the blink of an eye the winner had been decided. It was just too damn sudden.

Wei Zhao looked utterly indifferent, turning to leave the arena, when Ling Tianyou suddenly spoke from behind him: "May I ask you a question, sir?"

"Go on." Wei Zhao turned his head to look at him.

"How did you escape my encircling flying needles just now?" Ling Tianyou asked. By rights his needle barrage covered a full three hundred and sixty degrees with no blind spot, yet Wei Zhao had slipped through it with ease and without a scratch. It truly left one baffled.

In truth he was not the only one with that question. Everyone present was wondering the same thing. The sole exception was Bing Wushuang, for among those present only he had witnessed Wei Zhao's half-primordial-spirit state.

"Work it out for yourself, slowly." Wei Zhao smiled faintly. He was not a fool; the half-primordial-spirit state was his greatest trump card at present, and there was no way he would casually reveal it to anyone, least of all in a public setting with so many eyes upon him.

"Very well. Then I shall seek your instruction again when the chance comes." Ling Tianyou did not press the matter, the hint of a smile still playing at the corner of his mouth, not in the least resembling a loser who had just conceded and surrendered.

He had indeed lost just now, but it was after all only an inconsequential match. He still had hidden moves he had not brought out; there was simply no need for them unless things became truly desperate. Compared with a life-saving trump card, what did conceding or surrendering amount to?

Xue Jianming watched this scene with silent exasperation. Wei Zhao against Ling Tianyou. The ideal outcome from his perspective would have been mutual destruction, yet now both had come away completely unscathed, and that brat Ling Tianyou had conceded just like that, turning it into a sickening display of mutual admiration. It was enough to make a man want to tear his hair out.

Once the two had returned to their respective detachments, Xin Yi'an raised his voice again and asked: "Who else wishes to issue a challenge across levels?"

This time no one made a sound. Even a peerless figure like Ling Tianyou had lost, which showed how hard it was to challenge across levels. To them it was like a blow to the head, and they instantly dared not act rashly.

Challenging across levels was no small matter. Not everyone would be like Wei Zhao and pull their punches, stopping at the point of contact. If someone carelessly picked a ruthless opponent, what then if that person struck hard, or even struck to kill? The Trial Grand Tournament had never said that lives could not be lost.

Of course, the silence was only temporary. There were plenty itching to make a move; it was just that the rules had only just been announced, and they had not yet picked out suitable targets. Give it another two days, once they had made their preparations, and then those with the strength and confidence to challenge across levels would truly begin to emerge.

"In that case, let the drawing of lots begin." Xin Yi'an at once took charge of the drawing for each detachment himself. It was a fiddly business, but fortunately there were fewer than a hundred people in all, and he alone could manage it.

First came the strongest detachment, the one at the great consummation of the Foundation Establishment stage. Counting Wei Zhao and Xue Jianming, there were only eight in all, each of them a core disciple of some ancient sect and the senior disciple leading his group. Their matchups would practically represent a contest of the strongest disciples of the respective sects, a spectacle packed with appeal, and naturally drew every eye.

When the results of the draw came out, Xin Yi'an glanced at them with a smile, then shook his head with a sigh: "A pity this secular-world training did not mobilize the entire Ancient Alliance, only the Central Island Alliance and the North Island Alliance were summoned. Otherwise we really could have put together a ranking of the Ancient Alliance's strongest disciples."

Eight people drawn into lots made exactly four pairs. Although Wei Zhao had just fought a hard battle with Ling Tianyou, he received no special treatment whatsoever. He could, of course, choose to forfeit, but then he would have only four chances left and would have to win three out of four to earn the qualification for the trial.

One had to understand that being named for a cross-level challenge was pure bad luck. Lose and you were out; win and you gained nothing at all, having let your true qi be drained for nothing, only to then have to take part in the same-level matchups and let someone else reap an easy advantage.

There was no help for it; the rules were simply that cruel, seeking not fairness but the survival of the fittest. In the end the Trial Grand Tournament was preparation for the Ancient Trials, and in the Ancient Trials there was no such thing as fairness. Never mind a rotating gauntlet like this; nothing, no matter what happened, would be cause for surprise.

Xue Jianming was raring to go, eager to take this chance to give Wei Zhao a proper thrashing. Though he had absolute confidence in his early Golden Core strength, since Wei Zhao had just been worn down by a bout with Ling Tianyou, it would be a shame not to take advantage of it. It would save him some effort.

Unfortunately, the result of the draw did not go his way. Xue Jianming did not meet Wei Zhao after all, but rather another senior disciple leading a detachment from one of the ancient sects. He could not help cursing his bad luck, though fortunately there were still four chances to come.

Lots were drawn fresh each time, which in theory made it easy to draw the same opponent, and if one were unlucky enough, it might well be the same opponent all five times. This was one peculiarity of the rules of this Trial Grand Tournament: it tested not only raw strength, but also each person's adaptability and powers of recovery. Any weak link in the chain might become a fatal flaw.

Of course, if his luck was poor, this drawing system might well cause Xue Jianming and Wei Zhao to miss each other entirely throughout this Trial Grand Tournament, in which case Xue Jianming would have to save his thoughts of vengeance for the Ancient Trials.