"Boring. It doesn’t seem like there will be any worthy opponents in this competition," Murong Ye said, scanning the crowd listlessly.
"Isn’t that just perfect? You guys like tough battles, but I certainly don’t," Xiahou Lin said nonchalantly, shrugging.
"Who said there are no worthy opponents? It’s better to be cautious, lest we suffer an unexpected setback," Bai Ruhui said, shaking his head. He knew of at least one formidable opponent: a man nad Li Liuxing. When Bai Ruhui returned, his master had specifically cautioned him about this person. Although Bai Ruhui had never heard of Li Liuxing, he knew his master wouldn’t make baseless claims.
As the three of them conversed, a Purple-robed Elder, who was hosting the competition, strode onto the martial arts platform.
The commotion from the crowd below quickly subsided.
Clearing his throat, the Purple-robed Elder proclaid, "Everyone, I trust there’s no need for to elaborate on the importance of this True Disciple competition. The top individual from each group will be promoted to a new True Disciple and granted the opportunity to enter the Spirit Martial Hall!
"Furthermore, the champion of this competition, the ’Huiyuan,’ will be awarded a ’Silver Thunderbolt’!"
When his words landed, the Martial Arts Plaza erupted in cheers once more, the sound waves surging into the sky.
Even Ling Chen’s eyes lit up. He had heard that the top three could enter the Spirit Martial Hall, but he had only just learned that the first prize was a Silver Thunderbolt. This Silver Thunderbolt is a terrifyingly powerful Hidden Weapon, its might sufficient to threaten a Great Master level expert. It’s an excellent item for self-defense in critical monts. I had initially planned to skip the aningless ranking fights after the group stage, but I can’t just give up on this Silver Thunderbolt. No matter what, I have to fight for it.
"Competition rules: Everyone will participate in ten rounds of matches. Points will be calculated based on wins and losses, and the person with the highest points will be ranked first in the group."
The scoring was typically three points for a win, one for a draw, and zero for a loss.
"Enough idle talk. Let the competition officially begin!"
With a satisfied nod, the Purple-robed Elder flashed back to the Divine Intent Sect’s Elder seats.
"Contestant number one versus contestant number twenty-seven!"
"Contestant number three versus contestant number thirteen!"
The Deacon Disciple only announced numbers, not nas. All matches were randomized, a system known as unordered combat.
Matches comnced one after another on the three martial arts platforms.
In less than twenty breaths, the first battles concluded. Although the Inner Disciples participating in the competition had similar cultivation levels, the differences in their actual strength beca apparent as soon as they clashed. Combat experience, battle intelligence, psychological fortitude, and other such factors easily determined victory or defeat.
"Sister Xiao, it’s my turn," Xiao Cheng suddenly said.
"Go on," Xiao Muyu nodded. She held considerable regard for this kinsman; his talent was decent. Unfortunately, he still lacks a bit of what it takes to beco a True Disciple.
"Exploding Fla Palm!"
On the platform, Xiao Cheng roared, his body leaping into the air as he punched his opponent.
BANG!
Scorching sparks flew, and the Inner Disciple was directly blasted off the martial arts platform.
Having defeated his opponent with one clean move, Xiao Cheng returned to the crowd, a look of self-satisfaction on his face.
"Well done," Xiao Muyu acknowledged with a slight nod. Xiao Cheng’s performance was indeed comndable.
Now it was Ling Chen’s turn. His first match was about to begin.
Standing opposite Ling Chen was a young man with thick eyebrows. He wielded a bronze-ringed saber that looked to weigh seventy to eighty catties. When he saw Ling Chen was his opponent, a look of delight appeared on his face. Great, my opponent is only at the Second Realm! It was clear he didn’t recognize Ling Chen and simply regarded him as an ordinary Second Level Martial Artist.
Seeing the other’s expression, Ling Chen couldn’t help but offer a wry smile. One shouldn’t judge by appearances in a battle. Besides, even if one encounters a weak opponent in the first match, it doesn’t an stronger ones won’t appear later. To rejoice so easily is rather inexplicable.
"My apologies!" the thick-browed young man shouted, suddenly charging forward. The hard stone beneath his feet instantly cracked. Then, the large bronze-ringed saber in his hands swung in a heavy arc, slashing directly at Ling Chen.
Ling Chen tapped the ground with his foot, his entire body retreating swiftly.
The thick-browed young man thought Ling Chen was scared. He pressed closer aggressively, his bronze-ringed saber swinging wildly, forming what seed like a wall of blades attempting to envelop Ling Chen.
Initially, Ling Chen just dodged thodically. When he judged the ti was right, he casually waved his right hand. His entire arm moved so fast it left no shadow, easily knocking the opponent’s large saber away. Yet, the opponent, still thinking the saber was in his hand, postured as if to strike.
WHOOSH!
Standing five paces away, the now saber-less thick-browed young man swung at empty air. "My saber?" he mumbled, bewildered.
Ling Chen pointed to his left.
The thick-browed young man looked and saw his bronze-ringed saber embedded in the edge of the martial arts platform, still quivering.
"This..."
The thick-browed young man looked as if he had seen a ghost. When did Ling Chen even make a move? I didn’t see a thing!
Dejectedly, he ran to the edge of the martial arts platform, pulled out his bronze-ringed saber, and imdiately conceded. The gap in their strength was too vast; there was no point in continuing.
"Brother Ling, it seems your opponent wasn’t weak. That took you quite so effort," Xiao Cheng remarked as Ling Chen walked back.
His underlying aning was clear: he wasn’t complinting Ling Chen’s opponent but rather questioning Ling Chen’s own strength.
"The competition has just begun. There’s no need to reveal too much strength. Learning to feign weakness is how one goes further," Ling Chen stated calmly.
"You’re right," Xiao Muyu said, nodding as she stroked her smooth chin. "If you’re too conspicuous at the start and attract attention, your moves and style can be easily figured out, and you’ll lose many advantages invisibly."
Hmph, what a smooth talker, Xiao Cheng thought. Outwardly, he said nothing, but inwardly he was already sneering at Ling Chen. He grew increasingly impatient to defeat Ling Chen in front of Xiao Muyu and give that hypocrite a harsh slap.
At this mont, on the martial arts platform for Group Two, a figure with a wild aura appeared. It was Murong Ye, the top contender of Group Two, also known as "Divine Fist."
His opponent was a young man in blue attire, looking rather apprehensive. Indeed, anyone facing an opponent like Murong Ye would likely be terrified, as if treading on thin ice.
"Go ahead and make your move. I’ll be lenient," Murong Ye said, aware of his opponent’s apprehension.
"Thank you!" The young man in blue visibly relaxed upon hearing this. Since Murong Ye had said so, there was no need for him to be overly cautious.
He raised his Long Spear, twirling it into a spear flourish, then charged at Murong Ye with lightning speed.
Eyes fixed forward, Murong Ye didn’t move from his spot. He let out a sudden, fierce roar and threw a heavy punch straight ahead. "Lion King Fist!"
The imnse power of the fist, like a roaring lion, surged forth like a bursting dam.
The blue-clad young man’s expression changed drastically. He hurriedly brought his spear horizontal to block. The punch landed on the spear shaft, but its force penetrated through, striking him in the chest.
PFFT!
Spraying a mouthful of blood, the young man in blue was sent flying off the martial arts platform like a kite with a snapped string.
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