Wu Shan leaped back before dropping his bag of holding which he had brought along to the arena. Utilizing Yang Arms and Yang Fist, he created a pair of gauntlets that reached up to his shoulders and enforced the muscles on his leg.
Calming his mind, he watched as his opponent summoned a spear and twirled it before assuming a stance.
Wu Shan waited for no one. He bounded forwards, letting sheer momentum be his propulsion as he aimed a fist at Zhang He, who pointed his spear to block.
Wu Shan, in the nick of time, used Yang Arms to create a staff which he used to vault over Zhang He. While airborne, Wu Shan used Yang Aegis on his feet to create a platform to kick down from, nailing Zhang He flat on his head, destroying it and reducing it to a cloud of blood instead of water, much to Wu Shan’s shock.
In the nick of time, he managed to recover, knowing that his opponent was crafty enough to take advantage of his apprehension to kill.
Wu Shan erected a Yang Aegis on his back, and the clank of metal on metal-like substance proved his suspicion.
Wu Shan turned around and collapsed his Yang Aegis before grabbing a hold of the spear, reeling Zhang He inwards, but much to his surprise, Zhang He let go of the spear and summoned another one and used it to attack Wu Shan. Reflexively, Wu Shan brought his spear to block, but it disintegrated harmlessly as Zhang He’s spear made contact with it.
“Phoenix bomb!”
In the last moment, Wu Shan released a tiny, compact phoenix bomb which blew both him and Zhang He backwards, but as he was closer to the blast, Zhang He was more damaged as a result.
Wu Shan admonished himself, lamenting over the fact that the battles have been so close as of late. Zhang He truly wasn’t a weakling after all.
“Come to play, Wu Shan?” Zhang He sneered. “I’ll admit that I am happy that you’re here. At least now I may be able to entertain my Lin-Lin.” Zhang He pointed towards her, but Wu Shan’s eyes were trained on him, refusing to divert for anything.
Wu Shan bristled in readiness, fingers flashing about in a furious hurricane of gestures. Yang Arms and Yang Fist stretched to the limit of his Qi capacity, Phoenix bombs were flying about, ready to detonate upon contact and a giant black dragon created from Dragon Trail, ready to be released on Zhang He.
In reciprocation, he also brought out his wild cards, throwing his spear in the air and letting it combust to form a fiery-red dragon that dripped boiling hot blood from itself, circling around Zhang He like a mother protects its child.
Wu Shan waited for no one. Neither did Zhang He.
“Sixty four contestants remain standing! Congratulations, rising dragons! You will be able to participate in the tournament!”
Wu Shan and Zhang He both stopped, deactivating their techniques, letting the unused Qi return back into their dantians.
Wu Shan went to fetch his bag of holding before he sat down and crossed his legs, replenishing his Dantian in a raging cyclone of Yin and Yang Qi.
Around him, hundreds of downed youths were being treated for all sorts of injuries, but there seemed to be no crippling, killings or disqualifications, bringing some peace of mind to Wu Shan.
About a quarter of an hour had passed before the defeated were cleared. The MCs voice once more boomed across the arena as a projection of the tournament bracket appeared in the sky.
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“We shall begin with round. Contestants will have to win six of their matches in order to win the Tournament! One loss equals one elimination. Every match is best of one, and if two contestants happen to fall simultaneously, the victor will be decided on a point-based system, and if there is still a tie, the winner will be decided with whoever has the lowest cultivation base, as that contestant would undoubtedly be more talented!”
“Round one will begin shortly, with each subsequent round being allocated for the next night. The finals will be in the sixth day of the Dragon Flight Gala, so stay with us until then, good citizens!”
Wu Shan looked for his name, and found it on some inconspicuous corner of the right side of the bracket. To his dissatisfaction, Zhang He’s name was on the opposite end of the bracket, meaning that they would only meet if they both made it to the finals.
A few masked men hopped into the arena, barking out orders to the contestants to group up. Wu Shan sighed before complying, knowing that he was a part of this farcical tournament whether he wanted it or not.
Once the youths had grouped up, all the masked men gestured at once, warping them someplace else inside a non-descript waiting-room with long tables of food and delicacies.
There was a timer on the wall, and beneath the timer were the names of two combatants.
While a majority of the youthful contestants were munching away and replenishing their health before being called, a select few were simply seated on the floor, gathering energies from Heaven and Earth, furthering their own cultivation bases.
Wu Shan asked one of the masked guardians if his bag of holding would be safe from theft, to which he was assured that it was. Thus, he felt safe leaving it in the room once he was to fight.
Wu Shan was concentrating on his skills. From his two prior tussles with Zhang He, one thing was abundantly clear. Even with an inferior cultivation base, the man had technique much more advanced than his own.
The tension in the room was almost palpable. Few people would even stay at a radius of a dozen meters near an opponent. Fighting inside the waiting room was strictly prohibited, but that didn’t stop the young contestants from suspecting each other.
At any rate, they were to fight each other at some point. That was of no surprise, and it would be a small wonder if the person you just socialised with turned to be your opponent.
Wu Shan knew his own by name. A certain Su Chen. Wu Shan vowed to give the fight his all and be graceful in victory as well as in his possible defeat.
Once two contestants were called out, only one would return victorious while the loser would be given quality spots on the tribunes.
Finally, after nearly everyone had finished their matches, it was time for Wu Shan to fight Su Chen.
The two contestants were warped out of the waiting room and into their own corner of the arena.
“On the west side of the arena, we have our immaculately-dressed hidden dragon, the surprise contestant that duelled Zhang He to a stand-still! Wuuu Shaaan!”
The crowd was split between boos and cheers. While the masses did love young talents, that was a completely different story when a young talent happened to be able to rival their young talent. Most Gold Stone City dwellers didn’t take kindly to the fact that their little Blood Dragon patriarch were being challenged.
“On the east side of the arena, hailing from the Iron Gong Mountains, we have the scourge of Mount West Tiger! Suuu Cheeen!”
Su Chen glared daggers at Wu Shan, who only stared back with silent resolution.
“Three!”
Wu Shan formulated his plan of action.
“Two!”
Decided which techniques to use.
“One!”
Prepared to gesture.
“Go!”
Yang Arms, Yang Fists, Phoenix Wings.
Before Su Chen could activate his first technique, Wu Shan rushed him, bounding forwards with the increased strength and speed granted to him by Yang Fists and Phoenix Wings, flapping forwards.
In the nick of time, Su Chen erected a transparent Qi barrier…
…Which shattered upon impact with Wu Shan’s fist. The fist continued, uninterrupted towards Su Chen’s face, who flew dozens of meters back, digging a trench through the arena before stopping, broken and bleeding.
A medic hopped into the arena to assess the grievously injured Su Chen, and Wu Shan held his breath, scolding himself furiously for allowing himself to almost kill his opponent.
He really should learn how to hold back.
The medic stood up and gave a thumbs up, prompting the MC to action.
“And the winner is our surprise contestant, Wuuu Shaaaan!”
The boos slowly began to turn into cheers as Wu Shan raised his fist in the air, celebrating the victory.
A masked guardian appeared in front of him and warped them both back into the waiting room.
Wu Shan’s domineering pose struck a chord deep within the waiting contestants, but nobody murmured or whispered. Such was the tension in the room.
Deciding that he did enough, Wu Shan laid on the ground and used his bag of holding like a pillow and fell asleep.