The rest of the week had passed somewhat tediously. Sammath had spent a lot of time just meditating on his bed, trying to dive into the time aspect of his Concept. While he was able to use it to see a split-second, perhaps one tenth of a second, into the future, Sammath quickly became disoriented and had to let go of it. The rest of his time was relaxing with Ashe for about an hour each day, training in classes with Erin, or eating. Ashe had already made significant progress with his Ink manipulation; who knew that having access to nearly unlimited Ink in the form of the Core would help aid Ashe’s progress? And Ashe had managed to cut his Ink expenditure when using his mind to just over two times his regular Ink usage when making Runes and halve the time it took to make each Rune.
Erin had stayed true to her word and, the night before, had taken the Core and absorbed what remained. According to what she said, it seemed like she absorbed the energy and pushed it through her Bloodline. The energy had apparently washed away most of the imperfections that were left in her Bloodline and she had the ability to advance at any moment. Despite that, though, Erin didn’t want to do so and, instead, wanted to scour her Bloodline for any remaining blemishes so that she would quite literally be forced into the next Stage. Sammath didn’t really understand the need for complete perfection; he would be happy to advance to the Count Stage if her were her; but he respected the desire anyway.
Now, it was the first day of the weekend and Erin’s first fights against the sect were later that day. Sammath didn’t really want to go; he felt that the fights would be boring, and that the conclusion was already forgone; but he also decided to go and support his friend and teammate alongside Ashe.
So, it was a little before midday, with the sun high in the sky, that Sammath found himself seated in an arena in the sect. All of the seats were packed, Count Stage Cultivators in their mid-twenties having even come from the Inner Sect to watch Erin’s matches against their younger counterparts. The arena was a massive, ovular arrangement, with pavilions on either side of the oval’s middle so that guests could more easily spectate fights and have better views. Sammath and Ashe weren’t there as they weren’t important enough to warrant the seat but he didn’t really care. Inside the pavilions, lush pillows in various shades of green and low tables seemed to abound. Food and wine were lain out on the tables and Cultivators in pristine, white robes with green trims and gold along the edges of the green trims. Dragons spiralled around the green jade columns that supported the pavilion’s tiled roof and thick, green curtains surrounded the entire pavilion but the front so that guests could see the fighting. Sammath imagined that there was probably a number of enchantments hidden behind the curtains to block the sounds of the crowd and to keep the room cool.
Sammath could admit that the decorations and rooms looked good, but he also thought they were extremely wasteful as the wealth could be spent to help others or shared amongst the people to benefit far more than these wealthy few. Beyond those pavilions, though, the arena’s floor was some sort of packed dirt or had material, covered with a thin layer of sand. It would soak up any blood so that was spilled on the dirt. Also, it was far easier to fix than the cobblestones of the training courtyard and it would be better for the nature Cultivators than cobblestone as their Techniques would be able to quite literally take root in the dirt even if they couldn’t in the cobblestones.
Sammath leant back on the rough stone bench, even as he took in the people around the arena. Hundreds of disciples, almost all of them with black hair, olive skin, and brown eyes in the green-trimmed, white robes of the sect were seated on the stone benches, cheering their fellow disciples on as they fought. Erin was up next and Sammath was already anticipating her matches being over, thinking that they’d probably be quite boring. Erin was a prodigy, after all, and he was confident that there may be three or four people in the entirety of the Order, if not the continent, who were at her Stage and could beat her. That number would potentially increase as she increased in Stage and fought against old monsters and other prodigies but it could also decrease as Erin further came into her power. Sammath didn’t really know.
Finally, the match ahead of him ended and the people in the stands hollered in triumph or wailed in despair, depending on who they supported and if they’d bet on the fight. The loser of the match clambered to their feet and bowed to their opponent, both of them departing the arena, and Erin strode confidently into the centre of the oval from where she’d been waiting on the sides.
She turned around, projecting her voice, “Alright! I will be accepting five challengers at the Viscount Stage today. It does not matter to me what your ranking in the sect is, nor does it matter to me if you fight in pairs or by yourselves. Are there any volunteers?”
Immediately, a young man in the stands stood up, “I volunteer!”
Sammath looked over to find it was the young man who’d though he could fight her by himself in her class and chuckled darkly, “He’s going to regret that.”
Ashe nodded, also looking at the man, “I don’t think Erin taught him a memorable enough lesson. Especially not if he’s stupid enough to try and fight her again.”
Both of their voices were nearly drowned out by the crowd’s roar of excitement for the volunteer and dozens of people shouting.
‘Go, Senior Brother!”
“Come on, Junior Brother!”
“Show her what our sect can do!”
Those were a few of the cries that Sammath could pick out of the cacophonous roar of hundreds of voices. With a smug grin, he strode confidently down the stairs of the arena and leapt over the arena’s railing. He landed easily on the ground, knees bending to absorb the force of his landing. Spinning around, the Cultivator raised his hands to encourage the crowd to cheer for him and they happily obliged.
When an elder strode out into the field, though, the Cultivators quietened down respectfully, “Disciple. What weapon are you choosing for this battle?”
His response was simple and succinct, “The sword.”
“Very well.” The elder nodded, “With that, remember that this match is until knockout or surrender. You may begin.”
Immediately, the Cultivator drew a sword from a belt on his hip that had been obscured from Sammath’s view until that point. “Now that we’re not fighting unarmed and without Techniques, I think that you’ll find it significantly harder to beat me than you did. Prepare yourself to lose to Lan Wangji, the 153rd ranked outer disciple of the Grasping Vines Sect.”
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Erin looked at him, almost seeming bored as she took him in, “You need to practice more. Your stance is wrong.”
The disciple flushed red and he shut up, summoning his qi. A green glow surrounded him as he activated his movement Technique and a separate green glow rushed down his arm, into his sword, “Falling Leaf Blade!” He yelled out as he slashed towards Erin, his sword cutting down at Erin in a crescent-like shape; a shape that resembled the path of a falling leaf. Erin, though, didn’t even raise her hands to block or step out of the way. Instead, she leant into and underneath the Technique and snapped a kick into the Cultivator’s knee, forcing it to bend and buckle in a way that no human knee was meant to.
Erin shook her head, “You should have cultivated your body properly.”
Before the screaming Cultivator could respond, she spun around and raised her leg, pulling with her glutes to snap her foot across her body and into the Cultivator’s temple. The screaming cut out quickly as his upper body crumpled to the ground, limp, and his sword fell from his grip.
Sect medical staff rushed out from the side of the arena and injected qi into the Cultivator to stabilise him before lifting him up and leaving the grounds. Erin, face as flat as it had been when taking in the Cultivator, “Next!” Erin called out.
In the stands, a few people stood up, but it was a young woman who’d been seated by the railing that jumped into the arena before anyone else could, “I am Disciple Jiang Cheng, ranked 102nd in the outer sect. I do not believe that I can beat you, Young Mistress Dawnblaze, but I look forward to your instruction.” The Cultivator bowed to Erin and the red-haired Arikaran nodded.
Once again, the elder stepped out and asked what weapon the Cultivator wanted to use. She said that the weapon choice was open and the elder began the match. The Cultivator bowed to Erin, who returned the gesture and settled into an easy combat stance. While Erin could probably beat the Cultivator without preparation or truly taking the fight seriously, her stance was a sign of respect for the Cultivator – that much Sammath could tell.
Green qi suffused the air around the woman as she pulled out a bow. Erin cocked her head and waited for the Cultivator to attack. “Grasping Arrow!” She yelled out, firing the arrow even as green qi wrapped around the arrow. Tendrils of qi lashed out at Erin before the arrow, even as Erin moved to the side. Erin’s hand snapped up and tried to wrap around the shaft of the arrow, but the tendrils of qi reached out and latched onto Erin, changing the trajectory of the arrow. Quickly, yet seemingly without panic or haste, moonlight coalesced from the palm of Erin’s hand as she blocked the arrow. A burst of flame incinerated it and Erin turned to the Cultivator, nodding in respect even as another arrow was fired towards the Arikaran. This time, Erin forewent the decision to try and grab it and just launched a burst of flame at the arrow to incinerate it.
Green qi tried to grab at Erin and pull the arrow into her but the fire pushed it away and charred the shaft so it fell apart. When the arrow fell apart, the qi dispersed into the air as its anchor was destroyed. Seeing this, the Cultivator changed strategy and began firing her arrows into the ground. Each arrow stuck into the dirt and the qi began to lash out at Erin as she passed, trying to grip onto her but she easily dodged around each tendril. If the woman had further advanced the Technique or her Cultivation, perhaps they would have hindered the skilled Arikaran but, as they were, they posed little to no threat.
Erin quickly closed the distance between herself and the Cultivator, feet deftly weaving around the grasping tendrils, and the Cultivator heaved back on the bow, qi gathering around the front limbs of the weapon.
With a grunt, the Cultivator shouted out the name of her Technique, “Whipping Limb Shot!” With a groan and a creak as the Cultivator let go of the bow’s string, the limbs of the bow shot forwards like the branches of a tree that had been bent and had been held back while people walked past. While not empowered by qi, the arrow flew forward and Erin, who was only a few metres away by this point, had to jump with a massive burst of flame from her feet. Not having expected the huge vertical leap, the Cultivator shot their arrow underneath Erin’s feet, and it streaked through the air before lodging in the stone walls of the arena. Erin flipped forward, flame still bursting from her feet to push her down and knocked the Cultivator out with a swift blow to her temple.
This time, the medical attendants took their time rather than rushing out at full speed and they knelt before her, sending pulses of green qi into her head. The Cultivator woke up slightly groggily, even as Erin yelled for the next person, and woozily stumbled to the side of the arena with the support of the attendant. There were significantly fewer volunteers now, people realising that they didn’t really stand a chance against Erin, but there were still more than enough for Erin to fight.
A young man jumped into the arena and bowed to Erin before assuming a fighting stance. He chose needles as his weapon; a little bit unusual but Sammath knew that it wasn’t unheard of, especially for Cultivators or people that used poisons to fight. Erin just nodded acceptance and settled into her stance. Sammath leant over to Ashe, whispering under his breath, “What? He isn’t going to announce his name and outer sect ranking?”
Ashe snickered lightly, even as he glanced either side of him but he needn’t have worried. The Cultivators were cheering too loudly for anyone to hear what Sammath had said. When the elder announced the beginning of the match, the Cultivator challenging Erin immediately reached into his sleeve before his hand flicked out. Silvery glints shot through the air, too small and quick for Sammath to properly see, but Erin clearly saw them as she contorted her body to dodge.
More needles flicked out from the man’s hands and Erin pulled something from her own sleeve even as she summoned her Bloodline armour. Glowing, white moonsteel coated her body and, even though she didn’t dare to take a strike head-on as the needles might just penetrate her armour, she had no hesitation in slapping the needles from the air with her armoured skin. In seconds, Erin had closed with the Cultivator and they exchanged a flurry of blows but Erin’s expertise won out within nearly ten seconds, her needle stopping as it sunk somewhere into the Cultivator’s head; Sammath was too far away to properly see where she struck; but he froze and stepped away, bowing. Erin had clearly threatened something vital, or at least important enough to his body’s function that he didn’t want to risk it getting injured. Sammath guessed she’d probably dug her needle into the back of the man’s neck, into his spine, and threatened to paralyse him.
Erin nodded to him in respect and the man strode back to the stands, head high in the air. With his defeat, there were only four volunteers to fight Erin when she next asked and Sammath heard people talking about the man’s rank; he was apparently third in the outer sect; and people were wondering about how she’d managed to beat him with his own weapon, considering how unusual it was. After that, though, neither of the remaining battles were particularly interesting and Erin only had to tap into her Sarin Bloodline to beat them. First was a young man wielding a large, wooden club. While he utilised his weapon with far more skill than Sammath had expected, leveraging its weight and momentum with practiced, deceptive ease. The other was a young woman with a spear who used relatively standard forms, as far as Sammath could tell, but with almost mechanical precision. He had to admit that he would have struggled to beat either of them, especially as they ramped up the usage of their Techniques.
Erin, though, managed to beat them both before the versatility and power of their Techniques truly began to affect the fight. So, with that, Sammath found himself leaving the arena just under half an hour after he’d entered and with almost as little enthusiasm as he’d originally entered it with. What he was looking forward to, though, was something he and Ashe had been discussing all week; it was time to take a mission from the sect.