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  Chapter 54

  The royal siblings descended slowly toward the arena platform, their robes glimmering under the sunlight. The winners stood below, awaiting their rewards.

  “Sister… I know you’re going to follow through with the ‘test’. Just—just go easy on them this time.”

  “Jin, sure. But Adam…”

  Her eyes narrowed slightly, voice cool but sharp.

  “I have a bone to pick with him now.”

  Prince (inwardly): [Adam, you have my prayers.]

  The Gamecaster raised his voice, echoing through the arena.

  “Now then! Before we present the rewards to our victors, we have an announcement — something that will, I assure you, bring great relief to all sects and spectators present.

  This… is not a death tournament.”

  A wave of murmurs swept through the crowd — confusion, disbelief, and cautious hope.

  The Gamecaster smiled faintly, lifting a small talisman between his fingers.

  “Yes, yes, I understand your confusion. Allow me to elaborate.

  Every participant, before stepping into the arena, was given a Body Substitute Talisman — a safety measure hidden within the registration process.

  Whenever a contestant was seemingly slain or destroyed, this talisman activated, transferring their consciousness and body to a special ward beneath the arena.

  In short — every disciple who fell during battle is alive and well.”

  Gasps and cheers erupted from the stands. Sect elders visibly relaxed, and many disciples broke into relieved laughter.

  “And if you ask why we went to such lengths,”

  the Gamecaster continued, tone turning solemn,

  “it was to ensure fairness, realism, and discipline — without permanent loss.

  Consider it a lesson for both the body and the heart. True combat demands risk… but not senseless sacrifice.”

  As the noise of the crowd grew, Adam couldn’t help but smirk faintly to himself.

  Adam (thinking): [See? Told you no one actually dies here.]

  The gamecaster’s voice echoed throughout the arena, steady and proud.

  “Let us now proceed with the award ceremony! The one presenting the prizes will be none other than Her Highness, the Princess of the Ebonreich Empire herself!”

  The crowd erupted into cheers, the energy rising again after the shocking revelation that none of the combatants had truly died.

  The Princess descended gracefully from the observation pavilion, her steps light but her presence commanding. The air itself seemed to quiet as she stood before Jin Zixuan, whose expression was caught somewhere between awe and unease.

  “Jin Zixuan,” she began, her voice soft yet crisp enough to slice through the silence, “as the champion of this tournament, your prize shall be a Royal Blacksmith Token. It grants you the right to commission any single weapon or armor from the royal forges — regardless of rarity or material.”

  The audience murmured in awe. Such a reward was almost priceless.

  But before she handed the token over, the Princess added with a faint smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes,

  “However… before you receive it, I must see something from you.”

  Jin straightened his back cautiously. “Your Highness?”

  “A test,” she said. “Power should walk hand-in-hand with humility. As a victor, you must demonstrate both grace and gratitude.”

  She gestured elegantly toward the contestant’s stands.

  “Go — offer a bow to every sect represented here, and thank them for the lessons they have given you in this tournament. Only then may you accept your prize.”

  A ripple of laughter and whispers ran through the crowd. Jin’s lips twitched. He clearly wanted to object, but under the Princess’s calm, regal gaze, all he could do was sigh quietly and obey.

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  One by one, he bowed toward the various sects, his movements stiff but respectful.

  “Thank you for the experience.”

  “Thank you for your guidance.”

  “Thank you for the lesson.”

  The audience chuckled; the sect leaders smiled approvingly. It was embarrassing, but not cruel — the kind of test meant to temper arrogance, not shatter pride.

  When Jin finally returned before the Princess, his composure barely intact, she nodded and handed him the blacksmith’s token with a faint, satisfied smile.

  “Well done. Remember this feeling — it will serve you better than pride ever could.”

  Jin bowed deeply, voice steady. “This disciple will remember your words, Your Highness.”

  From the sidelines, Adam was watching with crossed arms and a tired smile.

  [She’s definitely doing that on purpose.]

  He could see it in her eyes — this wasn’t mere ceremony, it was mischief wrapped in royal authority.

  [And I just know I’m next.]

  As Jin stepped down from the stage, the Princess turned toward Adam, her eyes sharp with quiet irritation.

  “Next,” she said sweetly, “Adam of the Grand Harmony Sect.”

  Adam strolled forward, relaxed, hands in his pockets, that infuriating smirk plastered on his face.

  When he reached her, he didn’t even bow. “You know, Your Highness,” he said casually, “you’re doing this deliberately, aren’t you?”

  The Princess arched an eyebrow. “Doing what, exactly?”

  Adam grinned. “Trying to humiliate me. But here’s the thing—there’s nothing you can do that’ll actually humiliate me.”

  The crowd murmured in surprise. The Princess’s expression sharpened.

  “Oh? Then why don’t we bet on that?”

  Adam tilted his head, amused. “A bet? Whatever it is I'm in.”

  “Okay then If you lose…” she said, a glint of challenge in her eyes, “you will kneel before me—and lick my feet.”

  The audience gasped. Even the gamecaster froze mid-gesture.

  Adam blinked. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face.

  [My reputation might turn freaky, sure… but do I care? Not really. Is this going to affect me in any other way? Nope.]

  He threw his arms wide. ‘I concede!’

  The entire arena went silent.

  Then, without hesitation, Adam dropped to one knee, placed a hand over his chest, and declared in a clear, ringing voice,

  “Step on me, oh royalty!”

  The crowd collectively lost it—half horrified, half delighted.

  The Princess took a step back, flustered. “Y-You… perverted fool!”

  Adam just laughed, still kneeling. “Perverted? Maybe. But listen—my fetishes are mine. Just like yours, yours, and yours,” he pointed at the crowd, “they’re part of who we are. Why should anyone be ashamed of what makes us ourselves?”

  He began to pace as he spoke, voice rising into something almost sermon-like.

  “People act like shame is virtue—but shame is just something others make you feel because they think what you like is wrong.

  Your desires, your quirks, your so-called flaws—they’re pieces of your identity. And I refuse to be ashamed of them!”

  He turned toward the crowd, sweeping a hand dramatically.

  “Some of you like legs, some like hair, some like muscles, some like—yes, feet!” He winked. “Don’t hide it. Embrace it! Own it!”

  The arena broke into confused laughter and applause.

  One elder from a minor sect stood up suddenly, tears in his eyes. As light enveloped him for a moment.

  “You’re right! You’re so right!”

  This signifies learning and understanding a Dao.

  The crowd burst into hysterics.

  Adam smirked proudly. “I am shameless. Shameless as it gets! In fact, from this day forward, I claim the name—Daoist Shameless!”

  He turned back toward the Princess, kneeling once again with exaggerated reverence.

  “So, Princess—would you kindly… STEP! ON! ME!”

  Some of the audience actually started chanting it. “Step. on. him! Step. on. him!”

  The Princess’s face flushed crimson with a mix of anger and embarrassment. “You—! You’re shameless beyond all shameless!”

  Zhou Yanyue, watching from the royal stand, laughed softly. “Oh, he’s marvelous.”

  Han Wuqing had his fingers pressed against his brow, muttering something under his breath.

  Finally, the Princess snapped—she kicked Adam square in the chest, sending him flying backward.

  As Adam went flying, a fleeting smirk tugged at her lips. [He passed. He’s the one.]

  Adam flipped mid-air, flying towards his sect’s area with one arm raised high like a victor.

  “Remember my words, Your Highness — enlightenment doesn’t always look dignified.”

  [Thank God I took daoist shameless as my nickname or someone would have given me a name daoist feet lover or something]

  The audience roared with laughter and cheers.

  Meanwhile, in the special ward, Xiaoyan sighed, watching through the scrying screen.

  [Adam… why do you make random things deep for no reason at all?]

  Thus was born a new legend — the Awakening of the Path of Shamelessness.

  Adam was flying through the air fast, spinning from the Princess’s kick like a launched boulder. Just when it looked like he would crash straight into the Grand Harmony Sect’s stand—

  A ripple of Qi spread out, and a hand reached out, catching him midair.

  Adam blinked, momentarily disoriented, before realizing who it was.

  “Mr. Turtle!”

  The man smiled faintly, his aura carefully suppressed, blending in as one of the sect mates.

  “Congratulations, Adam. Quite the spectacle you’ve created here.”

  Adam landed on his feet, grinning sheepishly.

  “Heh. Guess I did go a bit overboard there.”

  “Overboard? You turned a royal ceremony into a Daoist awakening about fetishes. That’s not ‘overboard,’ that’s legendary.”

  Adam chuckled, rubbing the back of his head.

  “Since you’re here though… does that mean it’s time for the ‘guests’ to appear?”

  The saint nodded, his expression growing a shade more serious.

  “Quite sharp. Yes. They’ll be appearing in a few moments.”

  Before Adam could ask more, a chorus of familiar voices reached his ears.

  “Adam!”

  He turned to see his friends hurrying over — Bo Jin, Han Feng, Zhou Ren, Mei Lan, Aria, Xiaomei, Shen Xinyi, and Lian Hua — the whole gang together again.

  “Guys!”

  Han Feng walked up first and placed a hand on Adam’s shoulder, his expression heavy with mock sympathy.

  “We didn’t know, brother…”

  Zhou Ren and Bo Jin stood beside him with the same mournful faces.

  “We promise you, we’ll bring you to the finest brothel in the capital.”

  “And find you a woman with the most beautiful feet imaginable.”

  Both nodded solemnly, as if swearing an oath of brotherhood.

  Mei Lan and Lian Hua instantly smacked the back of their heads.

  “You two aren’t going anywhere near a brothel!”

  “And stop corrupting him with your nonsense!”

  As the pair yelped in pain, Adam could only stare at them all, speechless.

  [ Damn…]

  Han Wuqing sat quietly in the observation pavilion, his gaze fixed on Adam, who was laughing with his friends as though he hadn’t just turned a royal ceremony into a chaotic philosophy lecture.

  The sect leader sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  [What am I going to do with this boy…]

  Just as he was about to stand and call Adam over, the sect master’s token at his waist began to glow faintly — a pulsing, urgent light.

  He pressed his fingers to it.

  “Virelle. What is it?”

  The voice of Commander Virelle came through, strained and sharp.

  “Sect Master, this is an emergency transmission. The Myrthans… they’ve found us.”

  Han Wuqing’s expression hardened instantly.

  “Clarify.”

  “Multiple fleets — millions of signatures — are converging on your coordinates. The readings are beyond anything we’ve seen before. Their engines are already breaching subspace. They’ll arrive in moments.”

  The elder’s hand tightened around the token.

  “Their exact location?”

  “…Directly above your position, Sect Master. They’re coming through now.”

  For a brief moment, the world was still.

  Then — every cultivator, from the lowest disciple to the highest elder — felt it.

  A ripple of immense, foreign power tore through the spiritual field of the realm.

  Qi trembled. Clouds twisted unnaturally. The air grew heavy, vibrating with an alien hum that no one could comprehend.

  Heads turned upward.

  Far above the tournament grounds, the sky itself fractured — a spiraling distortion forming like a wound in reality. It twisted and expanded, a wormhole blooming open with a deep, thunderous roar that echoed across the continent.

  Blinding light poured through.

  Then came the shadows — metallic silhouettes, vast and unearthly, descending from the rift like gods of steel and flame.

  The cultivators stared in disbelief, their minds struggling to grasp what their senses were showing them.

  Han Wuqing softly said “So… it begins.”