The black dragon spat out masses of dark light that quickly became countless tiny points, scattering into the identification talismans.
Xu Ziqing looked down and saw another line of small characters upon his own.
Thirty-ninth fighting stage. Eighty-sixth position. Opponent: Zhang Cheng of Little Sheng Peak.
After reading it, Xu Ziqing handed the talisman to Yun Lie. “Senior Brother, look.”
Perfected Qiu He asked from nearby, “Where is Ziqing assigned?”
Yun Lie tossed the talisman to Qiu He so that he could see.
Before long, everyone knew Xu Ziqing’s opponent. There were more than three hundred fighting stages, however, with hundreds of cultivators scheduled to fight on each one. It would still take some time before his turn arrived.
Qiu Ze and his three friends also checked their opponents. Perhaps because of the immense number of participants, they had fortunately been assigned to different fighting stages, so none would need to fight the others.
Soon every cultivator in the arena had received an opponent’s name and begun making plans.
The black dragon roared and withdrew, circling above the Steward of Discipline with its head high and tail swaying.
The Steward of Discipline announced, “These are the tournament rules. Any competitor knocked from the stage loses. Anyone who admits defeat also loses. If defeat is certain but a participant still refuses to surrender, death or survival is their own responsibility. If a defeated person surrenders and the victor nevertheless strikes heavily afterward, the victor will be taken to the Peak of Discipline and punished by its hall.”
A clamor rose at these words.
Those who had never competed before muttered among themselves, while previous participants remained calm.
Xu Ziqing was surprised. “So people can actually be killed during the tournament?”
Sect rules forbade harming fellow disciples, yet here the restriction was somewhat relaxed.
Yue Jun, one of Luo Yao’s friends, had competed before. He explained, “Fellow Daoist Xu, there are so many competitors during the tournament, and the rewards are generous. Naturally, none wants to admit defeat. If the victor has already gained the advantage but cannot kill, while the loser is prepared to risk everything, the victor’s hands are tied. That would be unfair to the stronger person. So the rule is that anyone who stubbornly refuses to yield and dies by the victor’s hand has only himself to blame!”
“I see.” Xu Ziqing understood and nodded. “Viewed that way, the tournament rules are indeed fair.”
Yue Jun and the others exchanged smiles but did not voice their remaining thoughts.
Fair they might be, but only relatively.
Many people died at each tournament, and they certainly were not all stubborn losers who refused to concede. Sometimes old enemies fought and lost control. At other times, a victor far stronger than the defeated opponent employed methods that made it impossible for the loser to speak and surrender… Nevertheless, the sect had considered the matter rather comprehensively. To demand more would exceed human ability.
The spectators and competitors began to stir.
With another dragon’s roar, cultivators immediately appeared on all three hundred fighting stages, two on each, displaying their magical treasures.
Brilliant colors erupted everywhere as true essence surged over the stages, creating a dazzling spectacle.
Xu Ziqing looked toward a nearby stage. Two female cultivators faced each other there. Their flying swords swept up and down while colorful silks fluttered around them. They fought with exhilarating intensity.
Female cultivators who had achieved anything significant on the immortal path were generally very capable. Their willpower often exceeded that of male cultivators, and they showed no mercy when fighting.
The woman in yellow raised a slender finger, sending her flying sword slicing through the air. It pierced the shoulder of her opponent in purple. As the woman in purple cried out and prepared to strike back, the woman in yellow rose into the air, twisted sideways, lifted her leg, and kicked her opponent fiercely off the stage!
The match had been decided in moments.
On another stage, a smiling, amiable young man fought a woman dressed in black. He appeared to be holding back slightly out of pity for his female opponent. But she was ruthless. One palm strike, empowered by true essence, sent the young man immediately off the stage!
A single moment’s hesitation had cost him his opportunity at an event held only once every fifty years.
On another stage, two cultivators seemed evenly matched. One was younger, the other experienced and cunning. The former fought openly, while the latter relied on experience. At first, the older cultivator was suppressed, but at a critical instant, he seized upon a flaw in the younger man’s technique and struck him off the stage!
Clearly, even those with comparable cultivation levels had to remain vigilant at all times or risk defeat.
Xu Ziqing was surprised, though nothing showed on his face.
In this tournament, even fellow disciples struck without mercy. When his own turn came, he must not hold back out of kindness, or he would probably meet the same fate.
He did not remain idle while he watched.
Whenever he saw an unfamiliar technique, he mentally rehearsed how he could answer it with his Four Seasons Sword Art, considering what he would do against such an opponent and how likely he would be to win.
Luo Yao and his three friends were equally absorbed in the battles. At the previous tournament, they had only recently entered Foundation Establishment and barely managed to take part in the grand occasion. All had lost in the very first round. Fortunately, their opponents had been reasonably merciful and left them with no lasting injuries. Otherwise, as ordinary inner-sect disciples, they might have seen their immortal paths cut short.
This time was different. After another fifty years of relentless cultivation, they had not only improved enormously but also learned many techniques. Apart from Luo Yao, who had only recently reached middle-stage Foundation Establishment, the other three had reached the peak of that stage. If fortune favored them, they might even advance to late-stage Foundation Establishment during this tournament!
Naturally, they could hardly wait.
Yet the most attentive spectators were not these competitors but the eight female cultivators. They had been fortunate enough to become Perfected Qiu He’s nominal disciples, but their cultivation was weak, and even diligent training would not allow them to catch up quickly.
They served him carefully every day, afraid that displeasing him would result in their return to the outer sect and the hardships they once knew. Given this excellent opportunity, they watched every technique and every exchange closely, refusing to miss any experience that might help them improve.
When they failed to understand something, the eight women dared not interrupt their master, still less their icy eldest senior brother. Though their second senior brother was gentle, he was almost always beside Yun Lie, so they could not approach him casually either. Eventually one of them gathered the courage to begin talking with Qiu Ze’s group. The four were pleasant men, and seeing how eager the women were to learn, they began offering advice.
Without anyone noticing, the distance between the four men and the members of Little Bamboo Peak gradually narrowed.
After more than half a shichen, it was finally one person’s turn.
It was Yue Jun, assigned to the thirty-second fighting stage, forty-second in the order, against another ordinary inner-sect disciple.
The matches on the fighting stages were generally swift and decisive. Seeing that his turn had come, Yue Jun did not linger. He addressed those on the viewing platform. “Everyone, I’ll go first.”
Then he sprang into the air, became a streak of golden escaping light, and landed directly on the thirty-second stage!
Yue Jun’s opponent was named Liao Hengwei. He wore golden robes decorated with a four-clawed azure dragon. Amid the brilliant lights, the clothing shone so dazzlingly that it almost obscured his face.
He held a golden whip and wore a golden crown, looking down upon everyone around him.
Yue Jun raised an eyebrow. With a turn of his wrist, a black fan appeared in his palm. As he gently waved it, a dark wind seemed to stir. He looked like an elegant young gentleman from a troubled age, but the fan’s edge was exceptionally sharp, adding a touch of killing intent to his suave bearing.
His temperament somewhat resembled Luo Yao’s, but unlike Luo Yao’s proper dignity, one movement of Yue Jun’s fan made him appear careless and irreverent.
Liao Hengwei clearly disliked Yue Jun’s frivolity. His voice was arrogant. “If you beg for mercy, this prince may pardon your disrespect!”
As he spoke, an overwhelmingly noble pressure descended toward Yue Jun, as if countless voices were condemning him.
“You have insulted imperial authority! You deserve death!”
“Imperial majesty cannot be defied! Criminal! Kneel!”
“Beg for mercy and be pardoned! Refuse, and die ten thousand deaths!”
The voices surrounded Yue Jun, determined to force him to his knees and make him beg.
Such an imposing aura was extremely rare in a battle at this cultivation level.
Yue Jun had only just stepped onto the stage and already faced such a strange opponent. He had truly drawn an unlucky lot.
Watching from above, Xu Ziqing was astonished. Unless his eyes deceived him, a faint azure dragon had appeared behind Liao Hengwei when he released that pressure. Could it actually be dragon qi?
He turned to ask, “Senior Brother Yun, do you know what’s happening?”
Yun Lie’s eyes were almost closed. He glanced at Liao Hengwei and replied, “He is a member of the imperial family, so naturally he possesses dragon qi.”
Xu Ziqing knew that much. But he also remembered Yun Lie telling him that emperors were sons of heaven, agents of the Heavenly Dao in the mortal realm. Cultivators sought the Dao in accordance with heaven while defying fate to change their destinies. They therefore could not interfere lightly in mortal imperial affairs, lest they offend the Heavenly Dao and perish.
For this reason, members of imperial families seldom cultivated. Under the influence of dragon qi, they generally could not develop spiritual roots at all, allowing mortal rulers and cultivators to avoid interfering with one another.
But since Liao Hengwei possessed dragon qi and belonged to an imperial family, regardless of which mortal country he came from, how could he have spiritual roots? And how had he entered Wuling Immortal Sect?
Xu Ziqing found the matter utterly extraordinary.
In his curiosity, he asked Yun Lie.
Yun Lie said, “Imperial descendants fail to develop spiritual roots because dragon qi suppresses the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. In small worlds, spiritual energy is scarce, so dragon qi prevails, leading to that rule. In great worlds, spiritual energy permeates the world, and dragon qi cannot overcome it. Thus, the fortunes of mortal kingdoms are closely bound to cultivators and have become part of the Heavenly Dao.”
Xu Ziqing stared. “Then in a great world, princes and princesses can cultivate? What about someone occupying the imperial throne?”
Yun Lie shook his head slightly. “The reigning sovereign gathers dragon qi and cannot cultivate. Once that person abdicates, however, it may become possible.”
There were many other subtleties, but Yun Lie did not explain them all.
Xu Ziqing was merely curious and had no desire to interrogate him endlessly. Although he knew Yun Lie had not told him everything, the subject was plainly complicated. He therefore asked nothing further and returned his attention to the stage.
While the two senior and junior brothers talked, the battle had grown fierce.
Liao Hengwei’s Golden Dragon Whip transformed into a coiling dragon around his slender waist. The dragon’s mouth merged with his fist as he launched repeated bursts of Imperial Dragon Force toward Yue Jun.
Yue Jun wielded his Mysterious Heaven Fan in an impenetrable defense. Black flashes tore the Imperial Dragon Force apart in just a few moves!
They fought fiercely. Yet Yue Jun did not appear suppressed by imperial pressure and even had time to laugh. “Fellow Daoist Liao, if you’d ever been the reigning emperor, that pressure might be worth seeing! But this pitiful amount of dragon qi can’t do anything to me!”
Liao Hengwei was proud and accustomed to being respected. How could he endure such mockery? Humiliated, he attacked ever more violently, his expression growing uglier.
One man provoked his opponent while remaining calm; the other was goaded into a fury. As the battle continued, its outcome became increasingly clear.
Liao Hengwei seemed to lack experience. His moves soon lost their order. Yue Jun knocked the Golden Dragon Whip aside with his fan and completely shattered the Imperial Dragon Force!
Pressing his advantage without giving his opponent time to recover, Yue Jun followed up with a succession of blows until Liao Hengwei was forced off the stage. He staggered several steps to keep from falling humiliatingly, his face livid.
Yue Jun had won the match!