The scene of the first round of the Warden Selection Tournament.

Red moonlight spilled over the ground of the dimensional prison, much like the crimson eyes of the Blood Clan.

Silence, an incomparable silence.

Clank, clank.

The sound of iron boots echoed, crisp against the ground.

In the dark night, the atmosphere was particularly eerie and terrifying.

Two wolf warriors, clad head to toe in armor, walked slowly through the vast prison corridors. Through their helmets, one could faintly glimpse their cold, wolf-like gazes. The dim light reflected off their black armor, casting an icy glow that was chilling to behold.

The cells along the corridor were made of Mystic Black Iron, thanks to the relentless work of the Dwarf Race on Blue Feather Star. These cells were impenetrable.

Mystic Black Iron is a rare metal even in the Higher Plane. The stronger the power of the prisoner, the tighter the confinement. If a Heaven-Tier Magus were locked within, then these Mystic Black Iron cages would be the strongest prison on earth.

The wolf warriors patrolled each cell, one by one. As they passed one particular cell, a shadowy figure lunged at them from within. Inside, a young man was frantically pounding on the unmovable Mystic Black Iron bars, shouting, “Let me out! I’m here for the Warden Selection, not to be imprisoned! This is illegal detention! Grimm will punish you!”

The two wolf warriors stopped, turning their heads toward the boy.

For some reason, the boy, who had been so frenzied moments earlier, slowly quieted down as he caught sight of the pitch-black helmets.

“You… are sure you want to leave?” The voice was like ice shattering, sending an inexplicable chill through the air.

“…Yes, I… I want to leave!” The boy, clearly intimidated by the overwhelming presence, stammered, but then answered resolutely.

One of the warriors nodded and activated a communication stone, ordering, “The Hall Family of the Higher Plane has voluntarily forfeited their qualification for the selection. Clearance count: zero. Effective immediately. Begin expulsion.”

Perhaps overwhelmed by fear, the boy slid down the Mystic Black Iron bars, collapsing onto the ground in defeat.

It was over.

He would become the disgrace of his family.

If he returned, he would face the condemnation of everyone. In every prestigious family of the Higher Plane, reputation was paramount. Even though most families only participated in this selection for the sake of appearances, being disqualified and expelled were two very different matters. One was a legitimate failure, while the other brought shame to the family—a voluntary surrender that would humiliate them.

The boy despairingly glanced at the warden who appeared at his cell door, lowering his head in defeat as he was dragged away without resistance.

The two wolf warriors continued walking. Perhaps the commotion from earlier had silenced the rest of the prisoners, as the rest of their patrol remained peaceful. However, as they neared the last cell, their footsteps noticeably lightened, though the difference was imperceptible to most.

With each step, the scene inside the cell slowly came into view. Four bare walls, simple furnishings, no different from the other cells.

On the high platform within, a black-haired man sat cross-legged, eyes closed, his expression calm and unruffled, as if his surroundings were a serene mountain stream rather than a prison.

The wolf warriors couldn’t understand why such a righteous, powerful, and composed man was here in a prison. How could someone like him be part of this selection?

Sensing their presence, the man slowly opened his eyes and looked at them, his deep black gaze seeming to pull them in. “Someone left?”

His voice was like jade immersed in icy waters—smooth, yet devoid of emotion.

For the first time, the wolf warriors, who never spoke to prisoners, gave a rare response and nodded.

The man stepped down from the platform, his white robe billowing in the still air, exuding a cold elegance that mirrored its wearer, even in the dim light.

“You are from the Bloodscale Wolf Tribe. Tomorrow, under the full moon, you will endure the hellish agony of shedding your scales,” Long Ming said softly, standing in front of the wolf warriors, his voice crisp like mountain spring water.

Even through their helmets, the two wolf warriors visibly tensed in fear. How did this man know their tribe, let alone the hidden pain they would face?

The Bloodscale Wolf Tribe was a branch of the Demon Clan, an ancient race that appeared on the continent a millennium ago. Their status was low, known for being barbaric, fierce, and loyal. But Long Ming knew a secret—if someone showed them kindness, they would repay it, even at the cost of their lives.

Without paying attention to their shock, Long Ming retrieved two Seven Treasure Fire Condensing Pills from his storage bracelet. The dense spiritual energy immediately filled the air, showcasing their purity. These were either mid-tier or high-tier pills, worth far more than gold at any auction.

During the past five years, Long Ming hadn’t neglected his alchemy skills. In this era, alchemists were highly sought after, even a first-tier alchemist would be in high demand across the Lower Plane. Someone like Long Ming, casually giving away Seven Treasure Fire Condensing Pills, would be treated with the utmost respect, even by the emperor of an empire.

The wolf warriors hesitated, unsure whether to accept the pills. To them, this kind of spiritual medicine was invaluable. Despite their ancient origins, the Bloodscale Wolf Tribe had no standing on the continent and were despised as part of the Demon Clan. Even after thousands of years, they were still stuck in this dimensional prison as wolf warriors, living in the shadows.

Some feared them, while others looked down on them. But no one had ever truly respected them, let alone understood their suffering.

“Don’t want them?” Long Ming chuckled softly, understanding their hesitation. “I’m not asking for anything in return. I have plenty of these pills. Take them, and we’ll continue pretending we don’t know each other. After all, I can’t see your faces under those helmets, can I?”

It was impossible to truly forget. Based on Long Ming’s calculations, the Bloodscale Wolf Tribe made up the majority of the prison guards here. The more seeds of kindness he planted, the more favors he could reap in the future.

This tribe, loyal and simple-hearted, would never grasp the complexities of owing a favor.

Seeds planted now would grow and take root later.

Such a straightforward and loyal race—how could he not use them to further his own righteous and noble image as a mage?

Thinking of the excruciating pain of shedding their scales, the wolf warriors finally took the pills. With a 90-degree bow, the highest form of respect in their tribe, they left.

Once the two wolf warriors, filled with a mix of awe and gratitude, were gone, Long Ming returned to the platform, surrounded by the light of the Element of Light, casting him in a godlike glow.

A true master deceiver remains flawless, even when no one is watching.

This man, who appeared cold and distant, was outwardly focused on meditation, but his mind was already calculating his next move.

Based on the transmission from the dimensional shield, he had been in this prison for about a month.

Each dimensional plane is isolated, with the prison being the only connection between them. The shield was the key to passage, and every participant in the selection had one. When he arrived through the teleportation array, he was immediately placed in this cell.

Clearly, someone had placed a tracking spell on the dimensional shields.

The organizers of this selection were well aware of the tricks played by various families and had turned the tables.

They knew families would send unqualified participants, so the organizers simply imprisoned them. Proud heirs wouldn’t tolerate such confinement, and if they voluntarily forfeited, it would bring shame to their families. How’s that for a counter-move?

In Long Ming’s eyes, the purpose was clear. First, it allowed participants to empathize with the suffering of the prisoners. Second, it weeded out a large portion of contestants. Third, and most importantly, it tested patience.

As the future warden of the dimensional prison, one would need extreme patience with all kinds of criminals. Only those who could remain calm and composed after a month of imprisonment were truly qualified.

While everyone else thought the selection hadn’t started yet and that the prison authorities were simply playing games, the first round had already begun!

The first round: a test of patience.

When it came to patience, no one could match him. He had spent three thousand years meticulously planning to avenge his fallen family.

The moon sank in the west, and another day passed.

As the first rays of sunlight entered the tiny window of the cell, Long Ming took out a more luxurious and regal robe from his storage bracelet, calculating the time as he opened his eyes. Outside, a wolf warrior unlocked the cell door. From the aura, Long Ming could tell it was one of the guards who had inspected his cell the day before.

“Congratulations, you’ve passed the first round. Please proceed to the venue for the second round.” The warrior’s tone seemed slightly gentler than before, though still cold and distant.

Although the words were still frosty, Long Ming sensed the difference, and he quite enjoyed it.

When Long Ming arrived at the venue for the second round—the Nine-Tiered Gate—a large crowd had already gathered outside. Based on their clothing, there were representatives from the Human Clan, Beast Clan, Immortal Clan, Demon Clan, Blood Clan… all gathered in large numbers.

The Nine-Tiered Gate consisted of nine doors, each one harder to push open than the last. Whether a contestant was a warrior, a mage, or had special racial advantages, they had to push open the gates to proceed to the third round. This was a test of strength.

Outside the Nine-Tiered Gate, representatives from various families chatted idly. Although some may not have had the strength to push through the gates, the pre-game banter was essential—it was as if intimidating their competitors would somehow boost their family’s reputation in the upcoming inter-tribal competition.

Different planes meant they had seen each other before but weren’t particularly familiar. Their barbed words were indirect, and most of their conversation centered around the gossip of different clans.

“Did you hear? Feng Shi, the first beauty of the Higher Plane, is here as the representative of Fenghuang City to observe the third round. As expected of the dimensional prison, they’ve even managed to invite the number one beauty!”

The mysterious, rarely seen beauty?

The voice wasn’t loud, but the lowest-ranking contestant here had at least beginner-level magic, so when they heard the name Feng Shi, the previously languid representatives perked up as if they had been injected with adrenaline. They immediately straightened up, eager to show their best side.

“This is going to be interesting. Who wouldn’t want to show off in front of a beauty, especially someone as stunning and powerful as Feng Shi? If anyone wins her favor, they’d be climbing the ranks of society in an instant!”

“Shh, don’t say another word. The people from Shenlong Valley are here!” Despite the many rivalries between the Higher Plane families, the feud between the Dragon Clan and Phoenix Clan was the most well-known.

It all started with a foolishly infatuated crown prince from the Dragon Clan. Although he had been exiled to some low-level plane years ago, the incident was still fresh in everyone’s memory.

“For a smile from the beauty, he shattered his bones,” was now a cautionary tale told to children of the powerful clans. It had even become a bedtime story in some households.

The moral of the story? While beauty is captivating, losing one’s senses over it could lead to disaster. Look at Shenlong Valley now—having lost their ancestral treasure, they were the laughingstock of the other families.

Yet, it was precisely because of this foolish prince that Feng Shi’s fame spread throughout Grimm Space. Most people had never seen him in person, only hearing that his beauty could eclipse the heavens. No wonder everyone was so fired up for this selection—Feng Shi’s presence had lit a fire under them all.

“Oh, my Grimm! Is Shenlong Valley really planning to challenge Fenghuang City to the death? They’ve even sent Crown Prince Long Ziwu!” someone exclaimed, pointing to the group from Shenlong Valley descending from the sky.

This crown prince wasn’t the exiled one from five years ago, but his younger brother, the newly crowned Long Ziwu.

Long Ming walked calmly across the beautiful, dreamlike wooden bridge, hearing the conversations around him.

Through the mist, he saw the figure of Long Ziwu, dressed in purple dragon-patterned brocade. Unlike the original, who had been fat and ugly, Long Ziwu had inherited the Dragon Clan’s graceful appearance, with skin as white as jade, bright eyes, and a smile that could charm anyone. Although his demeanor was gentle, it exuded a subtle authority. He coldly glanced at the people gossiping about the Dragon and Phoenix clans.

The moment his gaze swept over them, the gossipers immediately shifted their attention, hearts chilling at the thought—would they be remembered by this vengeful and powerful crown prince?

Despite his outwardly calm appearance, Long Ziwu had been the crown prince for only five years, yet he was worlds apart from the exiled Long Ming. It was said that those who had once clamored for Long Ming’s death—some even elders of the clan—had mysteriously “disappeared.” Some didn’t even leave a body behind.

And yet, Long Ziwu covered his tracks so thoroughly that no one could find any evidence.

Those who knew the truth sighed at the idea of brotherly love, while those who didn’t only saw Long Ziwu as a ruthless character unfit to be the heir of Shenlong Valley.

As Long Ming walked across the bridge, he couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions as he observed the now-grown Long Ziwu. The little prince who had once followed him around had matured. His face was still a bit youthful, but the air of dragon royalty was beginning to take shape.

Especially his power. It was no wonder he had become the new crown prince.

Like humans, the Divine Beasts had eleven levels of strength. For the Dragon Clan, it ranged from level one to level nine, followed by Holy Domain and Divine Domain.

A young dragon like Long Ziwu, just over a hundred years old, already possessed the strength of an eighth-level divine beast. His advancement speed wasn’t far off from Long Ming’s original body, which had once carried the Xuan Yang Dragon Vein.

But now, Long Ziwu probably wouldn’t recognize this body of his. Especially since he had given up the innate magical power of his Divine Beast lineage and instead pursued both magic and martial arts of the Human Clan. He had sealed off every trace of his dragon heritage. Even his own mother wouldn’t recognize him as the once-reviled Long Ming of five years ago.

Now, he considered what his next move should be at the Nine-Tiered Gate.

Showing up like a regular contestant? Definitely not!

That would completely disrespect his former title of Dragon Emperor! He had to—no, must—stand out!

In his past life, he had spent years perfecting the art of making a grand entrance, doing countless experiments to ensure he looked both powerful and beautiful.

Did he not know that mortals secretly called him the “Thousand-Year Demon Flower”?

That was just pure jealousy. Jealousy of his otherworldly beauty and overwhelming power!

In Long Ming’s mind, strength was the foundation of any grand entrance.

Since he had to showcase his power, it had to be done with flair. If it was too understated, who would know he was a true expert? Maintaining the aura of an unparalleled master was a delicate balance, something only the truly skilled could achieve.

He had to make people lose their composure at the sight of him—a performance that would be unforgettable!

Let the low-key masters keep their silent modesty. For him, it was time to dazzle these mere mortals!

As the crowd watched, through the drifting mist, at the far end of the wooden bridge, a man in white robes appeared. At that moment, time seemed to freeze…