Leader Zhou called Sha Xiang and another disciple named Deng Qi onto the stage next. As the two of them descended to the arena floor, Sha Xiang trembled with barely concealed rage. It was almost enough for He Yu to feel sorry for her opponent, who had only recently achieved Body Refining so far as he could tell. He’d be going against an angry Sha Xiang at her full strength. He Yu had had a difficult enough time when she’d already been spent.
While a part of him understood that it made sense she would be angry at Qiao Xia being knocked out of the tournament before qualifying for the inner sect, He Yu still thought her reaction was a bit much. As she waited for the match to start, her qi was barely controlled, a riot of earth and fire and something more sinister just underneath that He Yu couldn’t quite place.
He looked to the stand where the sect elders sat, but if they noticed, or cared, that she had something like that in her spirit, they gave no indication. Neither did any of the core disciples. There were, however, several inner sect disciples who seemed to be engaged in intense conversation and frequently pointing to the stage. At least that confirmed He Yu wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.
The gong sounded, and Sha Xiang’s qi surged. This was the first time so far in the tournament that she’d fully revealed her spirit. Her presence was a cracked and burning mound in the middle of a desolate wasteland. Toxic fumes poured from the rents in the earth along with waves of heat, no doubt created by the earth’s very blood. As her spirit surged, earth qi gathered around her fists.
Her arms—bared by the sleeveless uniform she’d taken to wearing—took on the appearance of rough stone, cracked and weathered by countless ages. The gloves she’d always used since coming to the sect, oozed a molten mix of earth and fire. Underneath the scent of sulfur and stone, He Yu caught just a hint of something faint and coppery.
He was initially taken aback by the feeling of her spirit. Aside from the wrongness it carried—amplified from the last time he’d felt her like this—it was far more developed than he would have expected. As far as he knew, she hadn’t had the same opportunity to train her presence that he had. And she’d still been late Foundation when he had returned to the sect at the end of winter.
He Yu wracked his brain, trying to come up with any training methods or elixirs that would have allowed her to solidify her presence so quickly. He kept coming up blank. Could she simply have just advanced her cultivation base that far and that fast completely on her own?
Her opponent, to his credit, stood his ground in the face of Sha Xiang’s unleashed presence. Deng Qi summoned a staff of hardwood, inscribed with formation characters, and banded in iron. His spirit was aligned primarily with metal. When Sha Xiang rushed to attack him, he met her in kind.
The fight was brutal and short. Sha Xiang caught Deng Qi’s staff in one hand and slammed her other fist into his chest. Even from the stands He Yu could hear his ribs and sternum shatter. She ripped the staff from his hands, then grabbed him by the throat. That same sense of wrongness that had surged during He Yu’s fight with her returned, sending an audible rush of chatter through the gathered crowd.
Then, she simply squeezed as she stared dead into his eyes. She kept her hands in a vice around Deng Qi’s throat as he thrashed in a vain attempt to break free until finally, he puffed into mist. As she returned to the stands with the silence of the crowd hanging over the arena, she looked just as furious as she had when she’d taken the stage.
He Yu didn’t have any time to reflect on what he’d just witnessed, as he was the next contestant called to the stage. Any concerns he might have felt about the future matches—and his own prospects against Sha Xiang—vanished in the face of the excited buzz that now coursed through him. This was it. The most important round of the tournament.
He just barely managed to stop himself before activating the Sky Dragon’s Flight on his way to the arena floor. For the first time in the tournament, he’d be facing someone who might actually be able to put up a fight. He couldn’t deny that a part of him was a bit jealous of the matches some of his friends had fought so far. Tan Xiaoling especially.
Given the strength of her opponents, and her insistence on offering a chance for them to surrender before absolutely crushing them all, the first rounds had been little more than an opportunity for her to show off. As expected, everyone watching had been suitably impressed.
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His opponent, a rich commoner by the look of him, named Long Junjie, took his place across the stage from He Yu. Like many of the disciples in the outer sect, his weapon of choice was a jian. He held the double-edged straight sword with good form so far as He Yu could tell, but not with the easy confidence that he’d become accustomed to when facing Li Heng. Then the gong sounded, and they both released their spirits.
Through his training with Old Guo and the addition of the Empyrean Ninefold Body Tempering, He Yu’s presence had truly begun to take shape. His spirit had formed into the leading edge of a thunderstorm. Dark clouds churned in the high gusting winds that so often whipped the mountain tops of the Shrouded Peaks. As the clouds grew near, the distant flickers of lightning spoke that the full fury of the storm was yet to come. Rumbles of thunder, barely yet a whisper, echoed that sentiment. This was only the beginning, and the wisdom he’d gained in his cultivation of the Peerless Judgment had said as much.
As he focused on the opponent before him, he shoved aside the look of uncertainty he saw on Long Junjie’s face. He ignored the way his opponent squared his shoulders, and reset his stance. The Peerless Judgment told him all he needed to know—he was stronger and his opponent knew it. A stage of advancement was a large advantage, but not an insurmountable one.
He Yu had more than a simple stage advancement over his opponent, however. His presence was more fully formed, indicating that his breakthrough to Body Refining had been of significantly higher quality. He had powerful arts and was now possessed of two treasures fit for an immortal of the Fourth Realm rather than the Third.
He Yu blasted forward, carried on wings of wind. The robes he’d received from Yongnian whipped around him. Wind and heaven wreathed the blade of his guandao. The ease at which his techniques came now was almost enough to make him laugh from sheer excitement. The speed at which he advanced and swung his massive weapon was that of a howling gale. As he exchanged techniques with Long Junjie, He Yu realized for the first time that he was becoming more than the wind. With that insight, this time he did laugh, and it was a sound of pure exhilarated joy.
His guandao smashed into Long Junjie’s guard, knocking the flimsy sword away. How could a mere one-handed blade stand up to the might of the very same weapon wielded by the God of War himself? The Empyrean Ninefold Body Tempering turned away all of Long Junjie’s techniques with ease, and the attacks that he couldn’t weather, he simply avoided. Again He Yu marveled. When had he gotten so fast? Where had that weak child, unfit to even study under a Foundation stage “master” like Dong Wei gone to?
A broad sweep of his blade passed through a puff of white mist. He’d done it—he had secured his place in the inner sect. Although he’d doubted himself, Zhang Lifen had assured him he would. He looked to where the core disciples sat. Zhang Lifen shot him a smile. Nobody else seemed to be paying too much attention. He supposed that was fine.
The real prize wasn’t the inner sect, after all. It was his ranking. All that mattered now was that he placed as high as he could in the tournament ahead. As he walked back to rejoin his friends and accept their congratulations, he reminded himself that the inner sect had never truly been his goal. It was simply another step.
“Impressive,” Yan Shirong said as He Yu took his seat. “That ought to give the others some pause about facing you in later rounds.”
He Yu accepted the praise but felt a bit embarrassed by it. Although it had all only been in his head, he felt like he’d been gloating just now. Nobody else had seemed to notice, so he contented himself with that as the remainder of the matches continued.
Cui Bao, Yan Shirong, and Li Heng all won their matches against Third Realm opponents and secured their spots in the inner sect. The only fight He Yu paid any attention to was Li Heng’s. He’d been matched against Ma Peng, the noble who’d fought He Yu twice now, and lost each time. He Yu almost felt bad for him at this point.
Li Heng had at least been polite, but the fight had still been fairly one-sided. At least Ma Peng had advanced to Body Refining since challenging He Yu upon his return to the sect. He could spend the next year cultivating, and probably make it into the inner sect with the next tournament.
Of course that meant the last match of the tournament came down to none other than Tan Xiaoling and Xiao Jun. As the two of them descended to the arena, He Yu couldn’t help but wonder about the match-up. Had this been what Zhang Lifen had been referring to when she spoke of making concessions to get what she wanted? If so, which one was it?
Princess Tan and Xiao Jun were the most advanced disciples in the tournament. The idea that one of them wouldn’t be advancing to the inner sect went against everything he’d been told about how the tournament was structured. While Tan Xiaoling had always been strong for her stage, she’d only recently advanced to late Body Refining. Xiao Jun had been at the same stage for a year now. While he didn’t know her that well, Chen Fei was good friends with the princess. How would she fare, if her closest friend didn't join her in the inner sect?
As the two faced off against each other, He Yu turned his attention to the stage. All his questions would be answered soon enough, after all.