The boy tried to overwhelm Jing and he jumped forward, but all he got in return were wild and violent sword slashes as Jing kept retreating, keeping an arm's length distance between the two for his sword to do the brunt of the work. Just like that, the duo found themselves in another stalemate as the boy jumped, and Jing would step back, sword swinging.

'Fucking hell,' Jing cursed in his mind after he heard them shouting once again. But he really couldn't help himself, the sword felt too dangerous in his hands, and was afraid he might accidentally slice the boy in half. Understanding that his reputation amongst the new disciples was at stake here, he gritted his teeth and threw the sword outside of the platform.

His eyes burning with anger at the crowd because of how poorly he carried himself thus far, he channeled everything into the boy before him. 'Common now, I can't lose to a small kid,' He psyched himself, understanding the actual age difference between the two. But he knew that in terms of fighting experience, the boy surely surpassed him.

For the first time, the two approached one another with tight fists and began exchanging blows. The first punch landed on Jing's stomach, sending another jolt of pain through his brain. The next found itself into the boy's neck which made him retreat a bit in confusion and pain.

In the end, Jing's nose was broken, his pearly white teeth were red, his lips swollen, and his eyes could barely see anything as dozens of punches landed on his face. The boy was also in a similar state, his hair disheveled and seemed on the verge of falling.

The crowd was initially bored, but after a while, they were hooked. Each punch brought the two fighters closer to losing consciousness, and they watched with bated breaths who would fall first.

Almost everyone had understood by then that it was no longer a fight of skill, but more so a fight of will. The one who would remain standing after taking all of that damage would be declared the winner.

In a pin-drop silence that was only interrupted by the sounds of groans of pain and knuckles making contact with the bony flesh of the face, the duo continued their desperate attacks.

Initially, Jing as someone who hardly fought with anyone before, found the notion of getting punched in the face very daunting. However, punch after punch, he was beginning to enjoy it. Naturally, there wasn't any masochistic about it, but simply because as someone whose body was as fragile as a snowflake, witnessing himself getting pummeled in the face and yet still having the ability to continue fighting and remain fighting brought him immense gratification.

"Here," He remarked, his teeth red and a long stream of blood dripping down his lips. "It's your turn."

He weakly moved his body forward and the boy before him sent another punch to his nose. Jing groaned in pain as his already bloodshot eyes became even more watery after the punch on the nose, "Ouch," He murmured. "That hurts,"

Unlike him, his opponent's main drive was resentment and humiliation. The more Jing laughed the angrier he became, thinking that he was being made fun of.

Jing moved forward, he narrowly evaded another punch that made way for his face pushing it to the side. Taking advantage of the fact that the momentum behind the boy's punch was still driving him forward, Jing raised his knee and kicked him in the stomach with everything that he had.

A guttural groan sounded as the boy's eyes bulged as he fell to his knees, hands clutching his stomach, he desperately fought to breathe.

"It was a good fight," Jing said with much difficulty. His right and leg shoulder moved slightly back, and with an impressive force, his right clenched fist dashed in the boy's direction, aiming for his face.

Unable to stop it, the force sent the opponent flying to the side before he weakly lay there, unable to stand up. The crowd cheered, their voices booming scaring Jing who was lost in thoughts out of his wits.

The disciple finally came and announced the winner and another disciple came and escorted the fallen disciple into another area. From what Jing had learned, their talents were still valuable and so even if they lost they'd receive invitations from the other two sects under the Golden Mountain Sect.

Jing returned to where the other soon-to-be disciples were, legs slightly limping and with a face that had seen better days. Though he was very proud of his fight and the multitude of both psychological and physiological obstacles he had to overcome to win, he knew that in the grand scheme of things their fight was very amateurish, if not outright comical.

True to his expectations, as he gazed at most of the disciples' eyes on his back he could detect their confidence as they met his gaze. It was the confidence of them being unafraid of what he to do offer, the confidence one had when they looked at someone they do not respect.

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Jing didn't pay them any mind, and when he was but a few paces from them he noticed Wang Fei, the boy who had saved him waving in his direction with an encouraging expression. He had previously noticed him on the first test, and he had a Silver-grade Talent.

"Good fight," Wang Fei said with astonished eyes.

If someone else had said that Jing would take it an insult, but as he looked at his sincere eyes he knew that he meant it. "Thanks, Wang Fei," He said, smiling with his blood-red teeth. "It was rough."

After the first fight was done, the official disciples swiftly moved and created ten make-shift circles on the ground around the area. From the nearby people's whispers, Jing learned that it was a tradition to have the first fight watched by everyone, as for the rest they'd prioritize time.

Jing stood there with Wang Fei and Shen Yun, watching twenty people compete at the same time. Most of them seemed somewhat versed in the ways of combat, and so their fight was incomparable to the poor display he and that other boy had shown.

To his side, Shen Yun seemed very confident and concern about his upcoming fight wasn't something evident on his face. Wang Fei, on the other hand, was even tenser than Jing. He was visibly shaking, and his face could barely muster up his usual polite smile as he talked with Jing.

Witnessing this, Jing looked at him and said, "Don't think about it too much." He glanced at the ongoing matches once again. "The more you think about it the more difficult it'd seem. Just prepare yourself to get hit in the face, and most importantly resolve yourself to remain standing."

Wang Fei's eyes showed a subtle hint of sadness at that. His plump soft fists clenched together, "I can't lose," He said. "If I did my family..."

Feeling slightly intrigued, Jing asked, "Your family what?"

"I live in Crimson Lotus City, and my Wang family is very big and has a lot of branches," He said with difficulty. "If I manage to enter the sect then my mother would be able to remain safe."

Jing's eyebrows shot up in astonishment, forming high arches that mirrored the sudden spark of surprise in his eyes. "Well," He said. "If you have such a strong reason then you better prepare those cheeks of yours for some assault."

Shen Yun laughed at that, "Go for the jewels." He said with a wink.

"It's too shameful," Wang Fei immediately rejected. "I would be laughed at."

Jing agreed with Shen Yun, "Well," He said with a shrug. "Respect or family, if you can't win normally then only one way would remain."

Finally, it was Shen Yun's turn. His opponent was a teen a head taller than him, with auburn short hair, and he had a rugged appearance.

"Watch this," Shen Yun whispered before he left.

Jing and Wang Fei moved to the left, to get closer to the arena where he was supposed to be fighting and watched from there.

After the disciple declared the beginning of the match, the two fighters gently approached one another. Shen Yun had a wide smile along the way, unlike his opponent's solemn demeanor.

The tall boy threw a punch, and Shen Yun skillfully evaded it by slightly moving his torso to the side. His coarse hands gripped the boy's forearms and pulled him forward with impressive strength. The boy resisted by moving backward, and it was then that everything changed.

Shen Yun had crouched down at some point, putting his legs behind the boy, and so when he retreated backward he tripped and fell on his back. Yet, before he could even land on the ground, like a swift cat Shen Yun jumped on top of him and sent a barrage of punches toward the boy's face. In a split second everything changed, and in a few seconds, the light in his opponent's eyes dimmed as his nose gushed out with blood.

Shen Yun stood up with the same faint smile and began dusting off his dark red attire. He didn't even wait for the disciple to declare him as a winner as he made his way towards the shell-shocked duo.

"Heavens," Jing said, mimicking the way they phrased their astonishment. "I suppose you're at least lucky he wasn't your opponent." He said to the nearby Wang Fei, who nodded in acknowledgment.

Witnessing their expression, Shen Yun felt smug, after all, he was still but a young boy. "What did you think?" He asked, his eyes inviting more praise.

"How did you do that?" Jing asked.

Shrugging his shoulders, he waved his hands nonchalantly. "It's nothing," he said. "We used to train a lot in the sect."

True to his words, all of the demonic disciples whose fight was witnessed by the trio won by flying colors, except Zho Tu, his fight was rough on the edges, but he won in the end.

When it was Wang Fei's turn blood drained out from his face, and his pudgy face flushed red as he sweated buckets. His opponent was a lean and tall lanky guy with shoulder-length hair. Needless to say, his speed was out of Wang Fei's leagues, and his skinny punches dealt an unexpected amount of impressive damage.

Wang Fei's chest was heaving up and down in intensity, and victory was gradually slipping out of his grasp. All of a sudden, something seemed to snap within him and he roared like a madman and began chasing the skinny kid around with vengeance in his eyes. Most people found the sight very amusing as they heartily laughed.

When Wang Fei finally gripped, the kid's forearm, his eyes bulged and with shocking strength he clenched with everything he had, unwilling to let go. Finding himself stuck, the skinny kid began pummeling him with his vicious fists. As strong as the cultivator's teeth were, Wang Fei lost several in that exchange.

The blood and pain drove him even more mad and he wrestled his opponent into the ground and began biting and hitting with everything that he had. After a terrifying bloody battle that made even the elder responsible pay attention to it, his opponent surrendered through screams of pain.

Wang Fei walked back in the group's direction shaking, his face bloody, and his eyes had a blank look on them.

Jing winced in fright, compared to his fight what Wang Fei had just done and went through was horrifying. "Good job," He said, patting the chubby boy's shoulders.

Wang Fei who always quickly replied to anything due to a mixture of awkwardness and politeness didn't say anything this time, and he seemed out of it.