Chapter 10: Sparring Match Starts
A middle aged woman walked into the arena.
She wore deep crimson robes embroidered with the silver cloud motif of an instructor.
Instructor Maren. One of the four outer sect instructors.
Essence Condensation — Level 5.
The gap between Awakening and Condensation was a chasm. Awakening was rely opening the body to essence. Condensation ant the Essence within her dantian had liquefied within their dantian — a qualitative transformation that multiplied their power exponentially.
A Level 5 Essence Condensation cultivator could kill every outer disciple in this arena simultaneously without breaking a sweat.
Maren reached the center of the ring.
The crushing pressure vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
Two hundred disciples gasped for air, hastily arranging themselves into neat, straight rows.
Gaelen shot Rhain one last, venomous glare before turning and marching to his place.
Maren swept her harsh gaze over the gathered youths.
"The rules remain the sa," Maren’s voice echoed with essence, "Matches end when one party concedes, loses consciousness, or is judged unable to continue. Killing your opponent is prohibited. Violations will be dealt with by . Personally."
The pause that followed carried more weight than any threat.
"I will call your nas now according to your ranking from bottom to top. When your na is called, enter the arena. Do not waste my ti."
"Rhain Voss."
"Versus Corin Bon"
She called out first na.
Of course.
Rhain knew this already.
In every monthly sparring for the past three years, he had been the first na called.
Dead last.
Rank two hundred out of two hundred.
Rhain stood.
The movent drew every eye in the arena.
By now, everyone has heard the rumours that the sect’s punching bag had changed.
Rhain descended the stone steps and walked into the ring.
His footsteps were asured. His back was straight. His dark grey eyes were utterly calm.
Ding!
[Location Sign-In detected: Azure Cloud Sect — Battle Arena.]
[Sign In?]
Yes.
[Location Sign-In Reward: Rare-Grade Martial Art — Void Fist ( First Form ).]
Information flooded his mind — stance chanics, Essence routing patterns, force multiplication theory.
A close-combat striking art that focused on channeling Essence into concentrated fist strikes capable of bypassing external defenses and damaging internal organs directly.
Such a devastatingly powerful martial art.
Perfect for cracking turtles, Rhain thought, filing the knowledge away.
Rhain absorbed the technique in the span of a single breath, his expression betraying nothing.
He reached the center of the ring and stopped.
Simultaneously, a boy stepped out from the third row.
Corin Bon. Essence Awakening — Level 1.
He was short, wiry, with close-cropped brown hair.
Three months ago, at the last monthly sparring, Corin had been matched against Rhain. The fight — if it could be called that — had lasted nine seconds.
"Begin," Maren said flatly.
Corin moved first.
He crossed the distance in three quick strides — fast for a Level 1, his fist already cocked back, a thin veneer of Essence coating his knuckles.
Rhain didn’t even bother to move from his spot.
He simply raised a hand.
Smack.
Rhain’s palm caught Corin’s fist in mid-air.
The montum died instantly.
Corin’s smirk vanished. His eyes widened in shock. He tried to pull his fist back.
He couldn’t.
Rhain’s grip was a steel vise.
With a slight twist of his wrist, Rhain shattered Corin’s balance, stepping smoothly into his open guard.
He drove his elbow directly into the center of Corin’s chest.
Crack.
The sound of fracturing sternum was crisp.
Corin’s eyes rolled back into his skull. The air exploded from his lungs in a wet gasp, and he collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.
He was unconscious before his face hit the stone.
Three seconds. Start to finish.
Maren’s eyes widened by a fraction of a milliter.
She had presided over every monthly sparring for the past four years. She had watched Rhain get beaten, and humiliated every ti in the arena.
As an instructor, it was impossible for her to not know that happened in the sect. She had heard rumours of Rhain beating Fennick.
But only after watching him in action did she realise how much Rhain had changed.
It wasn’t just raw strength. What she saw was absolute, chanical precision.
No wasted movent. No hesitation.
Just the brutal, efficient dismantling of an opponent
"Winner, Rhain Voss," Maren announced, her voice perfectly even despite the shock rippling through her mind.
Rhain turned and stepped down from the platform, while being watched by two hundred pairs of eyes.
The morning dragged on.
Matches were brutal, fast, and unrefined. Most outer disciples fought like street thugs.
Rhain watched them all with quiet attention.
Seris’s na was called during the mid-tier bracket.
"Seris Nighthollow."
She stood, smoothing the front of her robes with a practiced gesture that didn’t quite hide the tension in her shoulders.
"Don’t say it," she said before Rhain could speak.
"Be careful," Rhain said anyway.
She shot him an exasperated look.
Seris fought well.
Better than well, actually.
At Level 2 Essence Awakening, she wasn’t a genius, but she was disciplined. She outlasted her first opponent, carefully deflecting his wild strikes until he exhausted his thin essence reserves, then pushed him out of the bounds.
She won her second match.
Then her third.
She broke into the top seventy.
The sun climbed higher.
The lower ranks were completely cleared out. Only the strong remained in the pool.
"Match sixty-two," Maren’s voice carried over the wind.
"Seris Nighthollow."
Seris stiffened. She exhaled slowly, wiping the sweat from her brow, and stood up.
"Versus."
Maren looked at the second na.
"Gaelen Hask."
Rhain’s dark grey eyes snapped toward the front rows.
Seris froze.
The fierce light in her eyes flickered.
"Seris" Rhain said.
His voice was serious, leaving absolutely no room for argunt.
"The mont you step onto that platform, concede. Don’t even draw a breath. Just say the words."
Seris looked at him, swallowed hard and nodded.
Seris walked down the stone steps, her fists clenched tightly at her sides.
Gaelen descended from the upper benches with a satisfied smile of a cat cornering a mouse.
Essence Awakening — Level 4.
Two full levels above Seris.
Gaelen took his position opposite Seris. He rolled his shoulders once, cracked his neck, and let his gaze drift lazily across the arena before settling on Rhain.
The ssage was clear.
Watch closely.
"Begin," Maren declared.
"I sur—"
BOOM!
The stone beneath Gaelen’s feet cracked.
He exploded forward with a terrifying burst of speed, his Level 4 essence flaring violently around his body.
Before the first syllable fully left Seris’s lips, Gaelen was already in front of her.
His eyes glead with unfiltered cruelty.
Gaelen’s fist, coated in a thick, oppressive veneer of Level 4 Essence, slamd into Seris’s stomach.
Her Level 2 Essence defense shattered instantly like brittle glass.
She was launched backward, her slender body skipping across the hard stone of the arena before crashing heavily near the edge.
Maren’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t call the match. Seris hadn’t finished the word, and she wasn’t completely unconscious yet.
Gaelen didn’t stop.
He charged again.
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