After the ring has been repaired, Yi Jiao fights against a Disciple of the Divine Frozen Palace and claims victory without sustaining serious injuries. One match after hers, Su Daji repeats the feat with far more ease. The violet-haired girl keeps a serious expression throughout. Her purple eyes sweep over the crowd constantly, as if searching for someone.
Alas, her search comes up empty.
“You look quite terrible,” Ding Yan greets her as soon as she enters the Endlessly Raging Valley’s waiting room.
Su Daji glares at her… friend? Nevertheless, she takes the seat next to her.
“Should a loser really say something like that to me?”
“Please! I already heard that from the Ruans. Be more creative if you want to insult me,” Ding Yan says, waving away the matter of her defeat as unimportant even though her mother is sure to be angry with her.
“Shall I start with all the talismans you lost?”
Ding Yan’s pained grimace brings a smile to Su Daji’s face. The green-haired girl groans and hides her face behind her hands.
As a member of the Ding Clan, Ding Yan could easily have someone else hunt the Spirit Beasts for her, but the girl is too proud and entirely too much of a perfectionist. She will not settle for an inferior product, and she will not rely on someone else’s power. Thus, the only talismans she uses are those she makes with her own hands.
“That’s what happens when you rely on something so old-fashioned,” Su Daji says. Ding Yan glares at her but does not take the bait.
“Hmph, that woman is your problem now,” she says instead.
“I know,” Su Daji says. After she wins the next round, Lu Mei will be her opponent.
“She’s dangerous,” Ding Yan warns her. “When she fought me, I could tell she was trying to hold back. Do you understand how ridiculous that is?”
“I know,” Su Daji repeats.
Ding Yan is one of the most powerful members of the Endlessly Raging Valley’s delegation, yet Lu Mei decided she could afford to hold back. Or, if looked at another way, Lu Mei thought she had no choice but to try to conserve her energy despite facing someone like her.
In other words, there is a fight for which Lu Mei must conserve as many trump cards as possible. Outlandish as it sounds, the fact that she is going through with it means she fully believes it is possible for her.
She believes she can reach Xiao Shuang in the Top Four without having to use all her power.
“I am not sure what the Wandering Wind has planned, but she will not be with you in the ring,” Ding Yan says. “It will just be you and the fire witch.”
“She would probably be happy if you called her that to her face,” Su Daji muses. “But I understand. If you are so concerned about me, I have no choice but to be careful.”
It is not as if she ever planned anything else…especially now that…
Xiao Shuang and Lu Mei…There is barely any hesitation in their aura.
Chen Guo achieves victory over a disciple of the Divine Frozen Palace in an instant. The crowd cheers for him, but the ladies in the Divine Frozen Palace’s box narrow their eyes. Xiao Shuang’s performance is masking it, but many of their disciples have already lost. The existence of several outstanding talents and the increased tension after Emperor Qing Jin’s fight have worked to their disadvantage.
Compared to the Eternal Flame Clan, which has only lost three fighters so far, they are underperforming.
“Bei Hong of the Eternal Flame Clan vs. Zhou Yi of the Endlessly Raging Valley!” Thɪs chapter is updated by novęlfire.net
Bei Hong walks into the ring with the natural swagger of someone who has complete confidence in himself. He raises his hands into the air, but the number of people who cheer for him is relatively small. Bei Hong did not fight anyone of note in the Realm of the Crimson Cloud, and his first match was against someone not of the Four Great Sects. No one looks down on him for using his full power against a weak opponent, but crushing an ant is not enough to earn the love of the crowd.
His opponent, Zhou Yi, is a different story. Though he also fought someone who was not of the Four Great Sects, the crowd receives him with much fanfare. His flying swords and graceful movements gave the people an enjoyable spectacle yesterday, and they look forward to seeing more of that today.
Zhou Yi does not even wait for Bei Hong’s arms to come down before striking.
[Sword Majesty - Annihilating First Strike]
It is, in essence, a thrust.
The blade in his hand glows with green Qi as its sharpness is enhanced and its length triples. The shockwave unleashed after Zhou Yi takes his first step and his body vanishes in a blur of speed makes the entire stadium tremble. The second shockwave that rings when his attack lands is felt all over Imperial Cloud City.
Nevertheless, the attack is still technically only a sword thrust.
The audience is left in shock. Whatever item was hiding Zhou Yi’s cultivation is no more. Perhaps he did not even wear it today. They can all feel the full power he used to strike Bei Hong.
Earth Realm, Level Six.
Laughter echoes amidst the stunned silence.
“You really went and tried to kill me right away,” Bei Hong says, grinning as Zhou Yi’s sword screeches against his golden skin. His opponent has still not stopped trying to push his sword into his body, pinning him against the barrier.
Had Bei Hong failed to use [Goldforged Body] quickly enough, he’d already be skewered.
“It’s a tournament!” Zhou Yi shouts as another sword appears in his free hand. He slashes it against Bei Hong’s golden skin. “Don’t you dare say you will look down on me for attacking!”
“No declaration of intent? No speeches? No empty boasting?” Bei Hong grins as the golden glow around his body magnifies. “I approve!”
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
[Magnificent Golden Roar]
Bei Hong roars his last two words as his technique takes form. Unlike in the Realm of the Crimson Cloud, he is not trying to cover as much area as possible. Instead, his loud roar is almost exclusively focused on the man in front of him. As soon as it hits, the roar knocks him back, slamming him against the opposite side of the barrier.
“But that’s not how you fought yesterday!” Bei Hong roars, hitting him with the same technique again as he advances on him with large strides. His hand grabs onto his robes, damaged from Zhou Yi’s attack, and tears them away from his chest. “I saw the whole boring thing! Where are your silly twirls?! Where are your dances?! Where are your dozens of swords?!”
Dozens of blades shoot out from under Zhou Yi’s sleeve, but they are not Qi projections. Each one is completely genuine. The hail of steel crashes into Bei Hong, completely obscuring his body from view. The air screeches as the swords ram into him one after another. The former member of the Golden Fist Sect covers his face with his arms.
However, he keeps moving forward.
In a burst of speed, dozens of swords are blown away. Thanks to the elixir created by the Apothecary, his speed far surpasses that of his foe. There is no time for Zhou Yi to move before Bei Hong’s fist collides against his jaw, knocking it out of place with a sickening crack. The follow-up hit threatens to completely tear the skin.
However, the two hits give Zhou Yi more than enough time to act.
“Fool!” Zhou Yi roars, forming his words with Qi instead of his now useless mouth. The swords scattered around the ring rise and fall on Bei Hong, forming an iron curtain between him and his opponent. Zhou Yi’s body is carried away by his swords. “Do you think I will fall to mere fists?!”
Zhou Yi glares at Bei Hong as he snaps his jaw back into place.
“There is nothing mere about my fists,” Bei Hong says as he punches the swords flying around him one by one. “However, your fear is as common as they come.”
“Fear?!” Zhou Yi yells. The swords around him vibrate in tune with his temper. “You dare imply I’m afraid!”
“I’m not implying. I’m saying it,” Bei Hong says. “You are afraid. And desperate.”
Zhou Yi throws a single sword at Bei Hong like a javelin.
Bei Hong catches it with his teeth and spits it on the ground.
“All day, I have seen it repeat itself. This place is supposed to be a gathering of the strongest, but some of you reek of desperation,” Bei Hong says. “But you know what? That’s fine. If fear and desperation are the only way to get you to put your soul on the line, I’ll gladly welcome it! Come on! I stand here to crush all your hopes! If you wish to live free of fear, pass through me!”
“I have heard enough!”
[Sword Majesty - Endless Blade Path]
Zhou Yi rides atop a wave of swords that rises to swallow Bei Hong. The golden fighter meets it head on. Gold and steel clash with blinding brilliance. Zhou Yi summons wave upon wave of swords against Bei Hong, but Bei Hong keeps going. Even as his clothes are torn and scratches and dents appear on his golden body, Bei Hong’s fists never stop.
“Give up!” roars Zhou Yi as he buries Bei Hong in swords. “You know nothing! You understand nothing! An ignorant fool like you has no right to stand in my path, so give up already!”
[Sword Majesty - Absolute Slaying Sword]
Several blades float above Zhou Yi’s hand and merge into a gigantic sword that is as long as the entire ring. Wind wraps around it, sharpening its edge to the utmost.
With a swing of Zhou Yi’s hand, the blade comes down on the trapped Bei Hong.
The impact makes the barrier quiver, and the sound is so loud that multiple people cover their ears. Even those in the city below hear it and turn their heads, wondering if there is a new bell somewhere nearby.
Bei Hong still stands.
His body is in the center of the crater caused by the strike of a sword. His arms are crossed in front of him, still fighting against the giant blade. There are huge dents in both of them.
It is not a technique. It is simply the emotion inside him bursting out as his Qi rises to its limits. Zhou Yi raises his giant blade and prepares to bring it down for a second strike.
A single fist is brought up.
Bei Hong’s golden energy tears through the giant weapon as his body surges like a meteor. There is no time for Zhou Yi to dodge. He can only watch as Bei Hong rises, his golden body tearing his blade through the middle before his fist buries itself into his stomach.
The punch shatters his ribcage and breaks through his muscles. The force of the impact travels throughout his entire body, breaking everything it can and launching him into the barrier.
Zhou Yi falls down and does not get up.
“I don’t need to know anything,” Bei Hong says to his defeated foe. “I’ll never tarnish myself by seeking anything other than victory.”
He raises his bloody fist.
“The Winner! Bei Hong of the Eternal Flame Clan!”
“Feng Zhi of the Eternal Flame Clan vs. Wang Fabin of the Endlessly Raging Valley!”
Feng Zhi cannot help but note how curious it is that four of their matches today have been against members of the Endlessly Raging Valley. Ten Zichun lost, and Lu Mei and Bei Hong both won decisively. Feng Zhi does not intend to be deemed inferior to any of them, not that there is even the slightest possibility of that happening.
Earth Realm, Level Four.
Unlike Bei Hong’s opponent, who has quite a few achievements of note attached to his name, or Lu Mei’s opponent, a daughter of the Ruan Clan, there is nothing special about the disciple in front of Feng Zhi. Certainly, he must possess some talent to be chosen to represent his Sect, but that is not enough to face Feng Zhi. Wang Fabin knows it, too. The young man can barely keep himself from trembling.
Under different circumstances, he’d have surrendered without putting up a fight.
However, things have changed.
Feng Zhi bats Wang Fabin’s first desperate attack away, but that does not mean he is putting him in his eyes. He merely goes through the motions of fighting him, completely confident in his victory. His mind is occupied with other things.
“Do either of you think you can defeat Emperor Qing Jin?”
His father has never shied away from being harsh on him, yet that casually asked question somehow managed to hurt more than every disappointed look. The worst part is that Feng Zhi cannot even be angry about it.
“We cannot allow anyone else to get their hands on him,” Lord Feng Gui said that night as he looked at his son and niece. “To that end, there are only two things we can do. Either defeat him in the finals.”
He looks at Lu Mei as he says that.
“Or stop him from getting there.”
This time, he looks at Feng Zhi.
His father doubts him, obviously. He also has little confidence in Lu Mei making it to the finals. It is completely understandable when the monster raised by the Divine Frozen Palace stands in her path. However, that is not what bothers Feng Zhi. It is not even whether he can defeat Qing Jin or not. When he reaches him, he will give it his all and be satisfied with the result, regardless of what it is.
“We’ll all surpass you if you aren’t careful.”
The buffoon stands in his path. Unlike Qing Jin, whom Feng Zhi begrudgingly acknowledged long ago, Huang Shing has been an ever-present annoyance to him.
The thought would have been ridiculous four years ago. In fact, it is ridiculous now. He is Feng Zhi, Young Master of the Eternal Flame Clan and wielder of the Eternal Flame. The difference between them might have shrunk alarmingly over the past few years, but there is no area in which that buffoon surpasses him.
No area except that which might matter the most.
Feng Zhi sighs as he lazily blocks an attack. The paper knife in his pocket suddenly feels heavy. He wonders, not for the first time, if that might be why he is stuck with it instead of some other greater relic.
He has accepted himself. He knows he wants to grow stronger, and he has no doubts as to his ability to reach the summit. However, that does not mean he knows the path to get there. His soul swirls inside him, shining with strength, yet frustratingly elusive. He’s close. He knows it.
Gold flame burns his opponent’s technique, a kindness on Feng Zhi’s part. If he is seen losing to the Eternal Flame, his failure will be seen less harshly. With his next move, Feng Zhi flawlessly knocks him out.
“Winner! Feng Zhi of the Eternal Flame Clan!”
Feng Zhi does not look at his father or uncle. He does not look at Lady Ling or Feng Zhuo. He looks at Feng Hao, who waves his arms wildly as he cheers for his victory.