To Harm the Righteous Path, I Had No Choice But to Make Games — Chapter 54
Chapter: 54 / 257
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#54

There's a Ranking Our Sect Must Win

【Righteous Path Cultivator Yang Zhengxin has died in humiliation under your relentless torment, his Dao Heart shattered.】


【Reward obtained: 200 Demonic Path Points】


Lu Ze raised an eyebrow.


Well, well. It seems pushing them to the brink of despair comes with extra rewards.


He’d have to redouble his efforts then.


At that moment, Yang Zhengxin, having just finished spewing curses, was still twitching at the corners of his mouth.


Exiting the illusionary realm, he glared at Lu Ze: "That stray cat—"


"Not a stray cat. A divine beast," Lu Ze corrected. "Perfectly reasonable for a divine beast to guard its master’s secret realm, no?"


Yang Zhengxin, dignity be damned, erupted:


"Reasonable my ass! You shameless little rat! How dare you toy with this venerable elder with such underhanded tricks!?"


Lu Ze feigned innocence. "This junior fails to see any wrongdoing."


"That illusion suppresses cultivation realms and seals spiritual energy—clearly designed to make it impossible to pass!"


"However..."


Lu Ze shook his head leisurely, unfazed.


"If it’s an immortal-grade trap, it must be the work of an unfathomable powerhouse. Restrictions like sealed spiritual energy or suppressed realms within a secret realm aren’t unheard of."


"Besides, traps are all about schemes. See through it, and you pass. Fail to, and you’re stuck."


"The mechanisms this junior designed may seem crude, but the underlying ingenuity isn’t."


"Had a supreme expert crafted a trap following this logic, even with your full power, Elder Yang, could you guarantee you’d pass?"


His words drew subtle nods from the surrounding elders.


Traps were about outsmarting.


Whoever got outplayed lost.


Clearly, Lu Ze’s design had seen through every one of Yang Zhengxin’s moves.


The battle-hardened elder might have eight hundred tricks up his sleeve.


But Lu Ze had eight thousand.


As for the rules?


While no one had heard of a secret realm with such harsh restrictions, if its creator was powerful enough, it wasn’t inconceivable.


Worst-case scenario—


even if Yang Zhengxin hadn’t been weakened, a trap built by a supreme expert following Lu Ze’s blueprint, with indestructible materials and speed surpassing the elder’s,


would’ve left him far worse off than the illusion had.


"Preposterous! Since ancient times, traps have had hundreds of solutions, never just one. Why must yours be the exception?" Yang Zhengxin pressed.


"Elder Yang sets a high bar. Had this junior not eliminated the other ninety-nine solutions, how could I prove I knew of them all?"


Lu Ze smiled faintly.


The response swayed several sect elders toward Lu Ze’s side.


Everyone knew Yang Zhengxin was being unreasonable.


Had Lu Ze designed a conventional trap, its evaluation would’ve been uncertain.


This very design proved his mastery of mechanisms—


why else would he have closed off every alternative path?


With tensions peaking, Zhao Wendao stepped in to mediate.


"Enough, Elder Yang. Our disciple’s illusion may seem hastily made, but time was short. Given more time..."


He trailed off, smiling meaningfully.


The implication was clear:


Had Lu Ze crafted a full-fledged illusionary trap along these lines,


even at full power, Yang Zhengxin’s defeat would’ve been more humiliating.


In a way,


the "suppressed realm" excuse spared the elder’s dignity—


at least he had an out.


Cornered, Yang Zhengxin could no longer openly challenge Lu Ze without losing face.


Crucially,


Lu Ze’s trap did have a solution—


just one.


An absurdly specific one.


But in a debate, Yang Zhengxin alone would seem petty.


With a scoff, the elder dropped the matter.


"Fine, fine! The Lingxiao Sect has truly birthed a freak of talent."


Yang Zhengxin clapped slowly, oozing sarcasm.


"Let’s see if you can impress everyone again when the martial tournament’s theme is decided in three days!"


With that, he stormed off, Qingshan Sect disciples in tow.


Whispers filled the hall as the crowd dissected the drama.


No one noticed


Lu Ze’s consciousness slipping into the core space of "Cultivator’s Descent: 100 Floors."


A few parameter tweaks later,


the illusion hovering above the hall’s plaza flickered—


its standby screen now displaying a leaderboard:


[Rank: 1]


[Sect: Qingshan Sect]


[Cultivator: Yang Zhengxin]


[Highest Floor: 2]


Gasps erupted as eyes caught the change.


"Look! The rankings!"


"That sect... No, I’m claiming glory for ours too!"


"I’ve cracked this illusion’s logic—my turn!"


"Pah! My Tianxuan Sect excels in divination. I’ll chart every path beforehand!"


"You jest. With spiritual energy sealed inside, how will you calculate?"


"Mark my words—the Cloud Immortal Palace’s footwork will dominate..."


Lu Ze listened, delighted.


Exactly the reaction he wanted!


Why had these cultivators gathered at Lingxiao Sect?


To compete, to flaunt their prowess.


Now, with sect rankings on display, their competitive fire was lit.


And the first name up?


A Qingshan Sect elder.


Outranking him would be pure bragging rights.


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