The Grand Competition Three

As the first match concluded, without any pause, two youths each holding a wooden staff stepped onto the stone platform.

At the signal from the youth in the brown shirt, these two also displayed their skills and began to fight.

Although Qin Fengming had never practiced staff techniques, he knew that this type of weapon was one that could overcome ten techniques with sheer force. This martial art was most suitable for mid to long-range combat, as the staff itself was already half a zhang long. When wielded, it possessed immense power.

These two seemed to know each other already, so upon contact, neither attempted any probing. They immediately unleashed their ultimate moves and fought fiercely.

Watching the moves they used, Qin Fengming couldn't help but chuckle inwardly. These two had abandoned technique-based fighting and were now battling with brute strength.

This kind of reckless fighting method naturally led to a swift conclusion.

The third pair to enter the stage, regardless of age or strength, were vastly mismatched. In just a moment, the one who used fists and feet disarmed the opponent's long spear, winning effortlessly.

Gazing at the youth who used palm techniques, Qin Fengming's expression turned solemn. With his bare palms, his mastery was incredibly high. While he hadn't reached the realm of his master's Thunderclap Palm, Qin Fengming felt an almost irresistible pressure. Because of this, Qin Fengming put aside his contempt for the other disciples.

As the third match ended, it was Qin Fengming's turn to ascend the stage. He smiled slightly at the fellow disciples beside him, stepped out from the crowd, and calmly walked onto the stone platform.

Holding the bamboo token, the youth in the brown shirt looked at Qin Fengming with confusion. He was astonished that someone so young, in terms of both physique and age, dared to step onto the stage. However, after a brief pause, he waved his hand, signaling them to begin their match.

The opposing youth held a strange weapon in each hand, one with a crescent moon shape at the bottom and a hook at the front. Looking at Qin Fengming, a hint of ease appeared in his eyes.

"Junior Brother, you're a new disciple, aren't you? To participate in a match at such a young age, don't you know that blades and swords have no eyes? If you're accidentally injured, it would be quite bad."

"Thank you for the reminder, Senior Brother. This junior brother has been in Luoxia Valley for less than three years. This match is merely to gain experience. I hope Senior Brother will go easy on me."

The disciple nodded and said no more. He crossed his weapons in front of his chest in a cross shape, then stared intently at Qin Fengming, not initiating an attack.

Drawing the treasured sword gifted by his master, Qin Fengming smiled slightly. With a flick of his hand, the first form of the Thirteen Forms of the Willow flowed out like water, rapidly attacking the youth several yards away.

As soon as they engaged, the youth holding the strange weapon was greatly alarmed. This young man before him was not someone to be trifled with. Even if he went all out, it was uncertain whether he could win.

Although the youth's strange weapons were skillfully wielded and possessed considerable power, under the exquisite sword techniques of the Thirteen Forms of the Willow, he was completely suppressed. After an initial all-out effort, Qin Fengming was only using five parts of his strength.

The disciple grew increasingly alarmed as they fought. This twelve or thirteen-year-old youth possessed such seasoned techniques and elusive sword moves, as if he had been deeply immersed in this art for over a decade. Layers of sword light surrounded him, making him feel as if sword shadows were flashing everywhere. If he hadn't defended steadily, he would have been defeated long ago.

At this moment, Qin Fengming's mind was at ease. Defeating the youth opposite him was merely a matter of thought. However, despite his youth, he understood the principle of "the nail that sticks out gets hammered." He knew that if he won every match at his age, it would provoke all the other disciples to unite against him, which would not be good for his future standing in Luoxia Valley.

With this thought, Qin Fengming made up his mind. Suddenly seeing the opposing youth strike his sword fiercely with both weapons, he went with the momentum. With a flick of his hand, accompanied by a crisp sound, his sword was flicked away, falling more than ten feet away.

"Thank you for holding back, Senior Brother. This junior brother's skills are not yet proficient. I concede this match." Bowing with clasped fists, he said these words, picked up his long sword, and gracefully left the stage.

Staring blankly as Qin Fengming departed, the youth stood on the stage, his face a mask of bewilderment. He had clearly been on the verge of defeat, yet the other party's sword had been disarmed by his own very ordinary move. This left him extremely puzzled.

"Fengming, you showed no signs of defeat, so why did you suddenly concede?"

When asked by everyone, Qin Fengming chuckled carelessly, "I just wasn't paying attention. It's okay, there's still the losers' bracket. Winning in the subsequent matches still allows you to advance to the next round."

The other disciples, seeing this, began to discuss amongst themselves, all regretting his sudden loss.

"Zhang Feng, Wei Zhihu, step up for your match." Just as Qin Fengming closed his eyes to rest, the youth in the brown shirt on the stone platform called out.

As the two stepped onto the stage, Qin Fengming recognized them as disciples who had just lost. Regarding the people in his current group, he already knew everyone's strength and was confident in his smooth advancement to the next round.

When Duan Meng reminded Qin Fengming that it was his turn to ascend the stage again, two matches had already been fought in his group. A youth named Wei Zhihu had earned the right to challenge, while Cui Liang had directly advanced to the next round.

His opponent in this round was a disciple around seventeen or eighteen years old who used a sword. Qin Fengming greatly admired this person, knowing that his martial arts had some foundation, but it was only "not weak." Compared to himself, there was still a gap.

At this point, there was no need for further words between them. At the signal of the youth in the brown shirt, the fight began.

This time, Qin Fengming held nothing back. In just over thirty moves, he used a clever technique to flick away the opponent's long sword, successfully securing his challenge qualification.

Seeing Qin Fengming's successful victory, Duan Meng and the other disciples who came with him erupted in cheers, and the scene became boisterous. This was the first victory achieved by a new disciple in decades. How could they not be overjoyed?

As the matches progressed, Qin Fengming eventually vied for the last advancement spot with a disciple who used a staff.

The two stood on the stone platform, looking at the youth who was shorter than him. The staff-wielding disciple showed no contempt. He had watched all of Qin Fengming's previous matches. Although the young man opposite him was young, his mastery was profound.

He also knew in his heart that it would be extremely difficult to defeat the young man opposite him with technique alone. The only way was to force the opponent to abandon his sword and concede through sheer force.

With this thought, the moment they clashed, the staff-wielding disciple fiercely struck Qin Fengming's long sword with his staff, hoping to achieve victory in one blow.

Facing the opponent's move, Qin Fengming naturally understood. He unleashed the Thirteen Forms of the Willow, executing exquisite sword moves. His small body was exceptionally agile, circling the opponent like a top, deliberately avoiding contact with his weapon.

When they reached about seventy rounds, Qin Fengming lightly thrust his sword tip, drawing a shallow wound on the opponent's arm. The wound was not deep, but it forced the opponent to drop his staff and concede.

Thus, the disciples who advanced to the next round from Platform No. 6 were decided: the saber-wielding disciple Huyan Zhuo, Wei Zhihu, Cui Liang who used fists and feet, and Qin Fengming, a total of four people.

The second round of matches would begin the next day. Surrounded by Duan Meng and his fellow disciples, as if being the center of attention, Qin Fengming was escorted away from the valley.