Picking Up Attributes In Martial World

Chapter 213: Delegations

The Grand Autumn Banquet was being held inside a giant hall featuring a spectacular open glass roof.

That massive overhead glass was actually a highly advanced, invisible dome. It was structurally engineered to showcase the beautiful winter sky and the softly drifting snow outside, while perfectly keeping the heavy arctic winds and freezing mountain drafts away from the interior. Even though the entire sector was already heavily protected by the macro-layers of the city’s Frostwall, the palace architects hadn’t taken any chances.

More importantly, the transparent dome functioned as a high-tier Grand Formation Array. It remained entirely passive under normal parameters, but it was fully capable of instantly deploying a dense energy barrier to protect the guests or permanently trap hostile targets inside the hall in case of emergencies.

Hundreds of unique, high-tier delicacies had been meticulously prepared for the gathering, their presentation lining dozens of heavy sandalwood tables across the floor.

Along with the roasted spiritual meats and rare elixirs, rows of top-quality alcohol had been laid out in massive jade flagons. The North simply didn’t work without alcohol; it was a fundamental law of the northern blood to let the spirits flow freely during any major gathering.

The servers moving smoothly through the tables were high-grade homunculi. They looked and behaved practically like ordinary humans, dressed in pristine uniform robes as they moved from one direction to another with fluid precision, serving the arriving masses without making a single sound.

After all, only the most distinguished guests on the continent could enter the perimeter of this banquet. Even a random, unpretentious person sitting at a side table here was influential enough to make a massive, cascading difference in the broader world.

This absolute convergence of authority was another primary reason why people were so heavily drawn to the event. The banquet allowed them to freely mingle, trade intelligence, and cut major business pacts with the absolute top echelon of the world’s factions.

Furthermore, every single attache knew the venue was completely safe. No one in their right mind would ever dare to stir up trouble or initiate underhanded plots while standing directly on the Song Clan’s Ancestral Grounds. It was a sacred, heavily fortified territory where even the elite envoys of the supreme Imperial Clan wouldn’t dare to step out of line.

Consequently, the absolute security created a perfect opportunity for the international factions to evaluate each other, aside from their primary objective of seeing the legendary Nine Purple Tribulations Son-in-law of the north.

From a high, overlooking marble balcony situated near the upper ridges of the hall, Ye Jun, Meihui, and Song Liangxue saw everything. Hidden behind a translucent spiritual silk screen that blocked external perception arrays, they quietly observed each guest and watched the prominent figures who were continuously entering through the massive ironstone archways below.

Ye Jun casually leaned against the polished white stone balustrade, his deep-indigo robes catching the ambient silver lantern light. Standing beside him, Meihui maintained her refined Young Master Rong scholar illusion perfectly, her iron-ribbed hand fan resting closed against her sleeve as her sharp eyes mapped the layout of the hall. Song Liangxue stood on his left, her cool, noble mask firmly back in place as she began to identify the heavy hitters arriving on the floor.

"The local powerhouses are taking their seats first," Song Liangxue murmured quietly, her voice carrying an informative weight. "Those three primary sections near the northern dais belong to the Three Main Sects of the North."

Ye Jun tracked her gaze, his rational mind immediately evaluating the dense energy signatures radiating from the indicated seats.

Seated at the rightmost head table were the representatives of the Winter-Heart Valley. They were draped in stark white, seamless silk robes that seemed to gently absorb the ambient heat of the room, their movements completely quiet and rhythmic.

Beside them sat the masters of the Abyssal Glazier Sect, a faction renowned for refining their Qi through the absolute pressure of deep-sea ice shelves. Their leaders carried heavy, dark-blue ironwood staffs, their eyes completely hollow and clear like polished glass fragments.

But it was the central table of the northern sector that drew Ye Jun’s primary focus. These were the grand elders and top-tier core disciples of the Heavenly Frost Palace, the supreme martial institution where he was scheduled to study next.

The delegation was led by a towering, broad-shouldered old master with long, silver hair that drifted slightly as if caught in a localized draft. He wore heavy, slate-gray battle robes lined with the thick fur of a tundra king-ape.

Sitting directly behind him was the current generation of their elite core disciples, their postures straight and their swords wrapped in white-gold runic bindings. Even from the balcony, Ye Jun could feel the nascent, incredibly sharp resonance of refined sword techniques buzzing within their sea of consciousness. They were like unsheathed blades waiting for a target.

"The old man leading them is Grand Elder Mo," Liangxue explained softly. "He is one of the premier blade masters of the palace. The fact that he came personally means the institution is placing immense weight on your upcoming admission."

Ye Jun’s lips twitched into a lazy grin. ’Noice. Looks like my upcoming school days won’t be boring,’ he thought, his system panel remaining quiet but his instincts already recording the structural flow of their Qi.

Before he could comment, a sudden, powerful shift in the hall’s atmospheric pressure caused hundreds of conversations to die down simultaneously.

The massive ironstone doors at the southern entrance swung open, and a majestic vanguard of heavily armored warriors stepped into the hall. They carried massive, golden halberds that vibrated with the distinct, heavy resonance of imperial array nodes. Moving in perfect, synchronized strides, they formed a protective corridor for the arriving delegation.

The Imperial Family’s elite envoys had arrived.

Walking at the front of the procession was a middle-aged prince dressed in sweeping, imperial-yellow robes embroidered with five-clawed golden dragons that seemed to ripple with actual life across the fabric. His stature was commanding, his face completely calm, but the raw density of his cultivation base was terrifying, a consolidated powerhouse who had clearly stepped deep into the late stages of the Ruler Realm.

Flanking him were three ancient advisors wrapped in dark imperial silk, their perceptions sweeping across the banquet tables like an invisible tide, measuring the security layout of the Song Clan with clinical precision.

"The Vermilion Emperor sent his younger brother, Prince Zhao," Meihui noted quietly behind her scholar fan, her tone tight. "The central sectors must be sweating bullets over whatever variables you triggered during that purple lightning."

"Let them sweat," Ye Jun replied casually, his bold nature entirely unbothered by the heavy display of royal authority. "The more they worry about my secrets, the less time they have to plot underhanded hits."

Directly behind the Imperial vanguard, the delegations from the other six Great Clans of the empire began to file into the hall, each marked by their unique regional power signatures and prominent young geniuses.

First came the Mu Clan from the eastern jade provinces, their robes made from vibrant, emerald-green spiritual silks that radiated a dense, life-attributed Qi.

They were followed closely by the Huo Clan from the southern volcanic ridges, their presence instantly causing the air in their path to warp faintly from the sheer intensity of their latent fire affinities.

The young masters of the Huo Clan looked around the northern hall with blatant, sharp curiosity, their hands resting near their spatial rings as they searched for the variable.

Next were the representatives of the Guan Clan and the Zhao Clan, both prominent military lineages whose young generation carried a blunt, battle-hardened aura that perfectly matched the straightforward nature of the northmen.

Ye Jun watched them all silently from above, his sharp, assassin-trained gaze meticulously mapping the physical stances, the hidden defensive artifacts dangling from their belts, and the varying degrees of hidden intent radiating from each foreign group.

The banquet hall was rapidly transforming into a dense, volatile ocean of absolute power and continental influence. Every major entity across the Xuanwu had successfully brought their highest assets to this single room, all waiting for the primary curtains to rise.

’Goddamn,’ Ye Jun cursed inwardly. ’So many powerhouses are here.’

He could sense multiple Sky Realm Cultivators, beings who were so rare that mortal world rarely saw them, yet they were here in good numbers.

Most of all, he also sensed atleast four Ruler Realm powerhouses.

’If they began fighting, maybe I can pick up some Attributes.’

Song Liangxue turned her head slightly, her jade crown catching the silver lantern light as she looked at him. "The minor factions and foreign attaches are almost fully seated. The formal introduction council is about to begin."

Ye Jun adjusted the broad silver lapels of his deep-indigo robes, a cold, anticipating light gleaming within his eyes as the distant palace bells began to echo for the final time.

"Alright," Ye Jun said, his voice quiet, steady, and filled with an unyielding confidence. "Let’s go down and show the world exactly who they came to see."