The lottery draw was completed quickly.
There were around a hundred participants in total, meaning the first round would consist of fifty matches.
And Lin Tiancheng, along with the Grand Elder of the Lin family, planned to take Lin Wuming’s life right in this first round!
After all, the brat had caused quite a stir at the Wan Yin Conference two days ago.
Even though he left the venue quickly, plenty of people had recognized him.
If he advanced too far in the tournament, he was bound to attract attention again.
And if something unexpected happened… it could spell trouble.
So, they decided to strike early—take him out in the first round, while the crowd was still chaotic and less focused.
Quick, clean, and out of the way.
They’d even arranged for his opponent to be someone without status or real strength—just to avoid attracting attention.
Lin Wuming glanced at the lot he drew and didn’t even bother looking at his opponent’s name.
Sure, the rules were technically simple: draw lots and fight.
But in reality?
Did anyone really believe the clan leaders and elders would let their own main bloodline disciples face strong opponents right away, wasting precious energy—or worse, getting eliminated?
Of course not.
So-called random draws?
More like controlled assignments.
He already knew the Lin family wanted him dead.
Naturally, his opponent would be someone they handpicked—either a Lin disciple or an outsider they’d bribed. In short, a sacrificial pawn.
If that guy actually killed him, and his fiancée didn’t know the truth—that he, the Wan Yin Conference champion, was Lin Wuming—then maybe, with some clever cover-up, the Lin family could get away with it.
But that poor assassin?
Yeah—dead man walking.
The Lin family would never risk loose ends.
They’d eliminate him the moment he became inconvenient.
Whether they paid in spirit stones or gold, it didn’t matter.
Even if he received it, he’d never live long enough to enjoy it.
Standing on the platform, Lin Wuming stared at the battle-hungry opponent across from him—his eyes gleaming with greed.
He couldn’t help but shake his head.
Poor fool.
Doesn’t even realize he’s already been sold out…
Once his fiancée gets involved, the Lin family will silence him immediately to cover up their shady deals.
No matter what reward he was promised—he’d never live to see it.
“Then, I hereby declare: the first round of the Clan Tournament—officially begins!”
At the judge’s command, the arena exploded with activity.
The fighters, long prepared, all launched into action, attacking their opponents at once.
They all knew that the faster they won, the more time they’d have to rest before the next round.
If they dragged things out, they’d waste too much spirit energy and stamina.
Even if they won, they’d be at a huge disadvantage later—and could easily lose matches they might’ve won.
But Lin Wuming’s match wasn’t like the others.
He wasn’t in any rush—and strangely, neither was his opponent.
The Lin family had, of course, informed this man about his target—Lin Wuming’s general cultivation and the special preparations they’d made.
He wasn’t especially strong himself.
If he were, the Lin family wouldn’t have hired him—too costly, and harder to silence afterward.
So even though he wanted to kill Lin Wuming and earn his reward, he also knew that if he rushed in recklessly, he might actually lose.
“What’s wrong? Not making a move?”
Lin Wuming smirked, raising a brow as he watched the man.
“Of course not. I’m waiting for you to attack first.”
The man squinted.
Something about Lin Wuming didn’t sit right.
He didn’t look poisoned.
It’d be risky to strike first—better to let Lin Wuming act and judge his condition from his movements.
“Oh?”
Lin Wuming raised an eyebrow.
“You sure about that?”
“Tch. Enough nonsense!”
The man’s pride flared up at Lin Wuming’s obvious disdain.
Sure, Lin Wuming was at the Qi Condensation stage, and his cultivation was stronger—but still, this arrogance?!
In a normal fight, he wouldn’t even dare try.
But now?
Lin Wuming had been poisoned.
“Go ahead and act cocky… Your life’s nothing more than a candle in the wind.”
He smirked to himself, watching Lin Wuming intently.
“Well then…”
Lin Wuming also grinned, stretching out his hand dramatically.
“You told me to make a move, right?”
The man narrowed his eyes.
Strange…
Someone stronger would normally want to end the match quickly to conserve energy.
But this guy was so slow, so deliberate…
Wait a minute—was the poison already kicking in?
That would explain everything.
The opponent relaxed, now completely dismissive of Lin Wuming’s “threat.”
He figured Lin Wuming had sensed the weakness creeping in and was trying to scare him—make him surrender through bluffing.
“If you’ve got the guts, move even one hand and show me!”
He crossed his arms, watching Lin Wuming confidently, feeling like everything was under control.
“Oh.”
Lin Wuming replied calmly.
In the next instant—he exploded into motion.
Before the man could even react, Lin Wuming closed the distance with a swift step, and—
“BANG—!”
A devastating punch crashed directly into the man’s face.
He flew backward like a ragdoll, slamming into the ground, nose bleeding profusely, blood splattering over his robes.
His mind went blank.
His vision swam.
He had no idea what just happened.
Lin Wuming calmly retracted his fist, shrugging.
“Hey, you told me to hit you.”
The man’s mouth opened slightly—he looked like he wanted to say something…
But then his eyes rolled back, and he passed out cold.
Partly because of the blow, but mostly because the gap between his expectations and reality was so massive, he mentally shut down from the shock.
This kind of one-hit KO wasn’t unusual in the Clan Tournament—especially when a strong core-lineage fighter faced an overconfident side-branch hopeful.
But from where Lin Tiancheng and the Grand Elder sat, watching this unfold…
This… was straight-up supernatural.
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